â weâre alike. i knew we would be. â
She still doesnât know how to respond to any of this. And howâs she supposed to, anyway? Louâs so patient and Tammyâs so warm and Debbie reminds her of Willy Wonka, honestly, âcause sheâs always so-- a lot. A lot? But a good kind of a lot. Itâs a happy a lot. It makes Trish thing the Willy Wonka things she used to dream about were real, like the chocolate fountains or the rivers of-- was it sodapop? She canât remember. But all the kids who took all those things were bad, and Willy Wonka was, like, mad and punished them for it, but she doesnât think sheâs ever seen Debbie get mad. Does Debbie get mad? Sheâs loud a lot, Trish notices, but it isnât mad-loud, itâs happy-loud. Like a dog with a tail that wags really fast.
Tammyâs almost a lot. Sheâs so warm and so soft, like hot blankets out of the dryer whenever she used to get to wrap herself up in them. Tammyâs lots like that, and at first, she thought (and knew) she was scared Tammy would be mad. She knew by the way Debbie and Lou were talking Tammy didnât know they wanted to take her away from mother. And when sheâs something people donât know about, she knows sheâs in trouble. Itâs happened before with guys mother likes. They always get big mad at her.
Tammy doesnât get mad. She doesnât even get sad. She doesnât yell. She gets down really low and talks to Trish, who canât do a lot more than look at her while sheâs still holding Louâs hand real tight. And both of them tell her this is Tammy, sweetheart, you donât have to be scared. And sheâs still scared, anyway.
Thereâs a record. She likes records! Movies call them vinyls, and she likes that word, too, and the recordâs The Beatles, and sheâs listening and humming along, counting her steps in time to the rhythm before the little steps she takes with her eyes on her feet bump her-- right into Tammy. Who smiles at her, that Tammy-smile, and says weâre alike. I knew we would be. And Trish fidgets, a little shyly, when she looks up. Her hands twist round and round and round.
âDo they still-- play concerts?â She asks it, quiet and curious, before anxiously, heavily tucking her hair behind both her ears, a big gesture like sheâs nervous but sheâs thinking too, âso people can listen to them play on stage?â