The Entirely Fabricated Story of Lizzie Nickerson

Chapter 33

Lizzie had long since outgrown her picture books like 'Grant The Friendly Hippo' and 'Pelicans Picnic.' The lone exception was 'Lizzie Builds a Treehouse,' which still commanded a position of prominence on her bedroom bookshelf.

To satisfy her insatiable appetite for reading, when she was ten, she'd occasionally ask her first-floor neighbor, Ms. Margery Brennan, for her newspapers once she'd finished reading them. Given the innumerable articles about local murders, missing children, sex trafficking, violence, and other subjects unsuitable for a young reader, Sonya intervened just in time. In the very next issue, The Cincinnati Enquirer covered a story about the passing of a ring-tailed lemur at the Cincinnati Zoo. Had Lizzie read that article, she may never have recovered from the emotional distress.

Researching appropriate reading material for pre-teens, Sonya purchased a subscription to Girls  Life magazine, which Lizzie proclaimed to be boring.  She rolled her eyes at articles like 'Your Best Low Key Crush Move' and 'Eyelash Curler Tips' and tossed the magazines into the trash can. 

Fortunately, her downstairs neighbor, Frederick Gibbs, shared articles from his issues of National Geographic and Popular Science. These publications were far more appealing to Lizzie. She read and re-read articles about making titanium stardust on Earth and the technology behind night-vision goggles, never once uttering, "Oh, geez. That doesn't even make sense."

Once Lizzie discovered her Aunt Sonya's computer and the inexhaustible possibilities of the internet it was a game-changer. She would sit at Sonya's desk and read for hours on end, though she required frequent breaks to calm the dizziness from staring at a big, bright screen.

On this particular Tuesday afternoon, Sonya's day off, she turned down the television's volume and took a break from folding laundry when she heard the apartment door opening. She caught up with Lizzie in the kitchen before she disappeared down the hallway into her room. "What do you have there?" she asked.

"Just a magazine." Lizzie darted into her room, her aunt following. She set the Modern Dog magazine down on the dresser top.

"Another dog magazine?"

"I like to read about dogs."

"How was school today?"

Lizzie shrugged.

"I like your hair like that. In a ponytail. I can actually see your face."

"And my ears. Oh, geez. I don't like people looking at my ears."

"Why do you think everyone is looking at your ears?"

"Because they're sticking right out there all by themselves. First, nobody saw them and now, here they are!"

Recognizing that the topic was causing undue anxiety, Sonya changed the subject. "I wish my skin had been like yours when I was a teenager." Sonya sighed. "Ugh. Acne."

"Too bad you didn't know about hemp soap. I have skin like Momma's."

"Yes, you do."

At the mention of hemp soap, Sonya felt a lump in her throat. In the years since her sister had left Lizzie behind, the only communication from Indigo had been brown paper packages of homemade hemp soap. No note. Nothing. Just half a dozen bars of hemp soap tied up with hemp string. With every package that arrived, Sonya took it harder than Lizzie who seemed to accept the hard truth of the disconnection from her mother.

"Anyway," said Sonya. "I have something for you." She produced an iPhone.

Lizzie froze.

"Come on. It's not gonna bite you."

"Another figure of speech?"

Sonya nodded.

Lizzie remembered her mother's warnings about cell phones and how they would give people brain cancer. But after reading several Popular Science articles on the subject, her fears were allayed.

Lizzie took the phone in hand, an expression of reverence on her face like she was holding the Oppenheimer blue diamond.

"I need to be able to get in touch with you," said Sonya. "It's an early birthday present. You won't need to use my computer anymore. You'll have the whole internet in your hands."

Sonya hadn't made this monumental purchase on a whim. A great deal of thought had gone into the decision. First, there was the matter of protecting her own computer. She couldn't risk having Lizzie accidentally click a link that would open the gates and allow a menacing virus to invade. Viruses aside, there were simply too many potential issues with Lizzie spending hours and hours on Sonya's work computer. Second, was Lizzie's sudden reckoning with exercise. Her no-perspiration solution was walking and the prospect sent Sonya's blood pressure higher. She could imagine a scenario in which Lizzie would begin her walk and God, forbid, decide to follow a dog, or cracks in the pavement, or whatever her mind would seize on. She might walk for hours before she realized that she was lost. Even if she had the courage to ask a stranger to borrow their phone, she didn't know Sonya's phone number. With an iPhone, Lizzie could click the contact, 'Sonya,' and either call or text. She'd also have maps apps, so she'd know where she was and could be instructed to find her way back home. Of course, there would be consequences, but Sonya would deal with them later.

"You're fourteen years old, a young lady," said Sonya.

"What does that have to do with a smartphone?" Lizzie asked.

"Well, you're one of the smartest people I know. If anyone can manage a smartphone, it's you."

"Thank you for this," said Lizzie. "I know it cost a lot of money. I'll try not to drop it too much."