There is a rabbit and a wolf at the dinner table. The rabbit taps its foot against its metal seat, letting the th-thump, th-thump, th-thump of its rhythm resound through the air. A meal of berries lays before the creature, but still, it does not eat as its attention is on the guest before it.
“You first?” The growl strums the atmosphere and the wolf’s yellow eyes glimmer with a yearning. For what? That is unclear and the two continue, the rabbit t-tap-tap-tapping and the wolf peering at the rabbit. Then finally the light flickers above the two meal partners and in the second the darkness ascends, something changes. Before long, the wolf and the rabbit are illuminated again. The berries still before the latter, yet something is different. The wolf twitches its tail, swinging it back and forth, back and forth. And the rabbit looks up at the wolf, eyes shimmering. Not with fear as one might assume, but with a yearning. “Why should I be the one to start?” There is no quiver in the rabbit’s voice. No, it’s steady and confident. And I, both observer and object of this scene, feel this deep in my bones. A soundless understanding that both rabbit and wolf is I, Ashly, two dual identities in one. So I laugh, letting their meaningless questions reverberate around me. Rabbit? Wolf? I am me.
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Sara hated how the wind prickled against her purple jacket. She blinked her eyes, already giving up the battle of trying to force her hair to stay put with her hands. Dusk had settled and the Summer sky had melted into a deep blue dotted with red from a blinking plane passing overhead.
As Sara strode along the sidewalk, she attempted to ignore the scuffling of animals darting around yards too dark to see and trees too shadowy to make out. Her rational mind knew the critters were just going about their nightly business just as she was, but her slightly more irrational mind played with more frightening fantasies. I’ve been spending too much time listening to Helena. Sara’s younger sister Helena was always going on about random magical things she claimed had happened to her. I really did see a theatre made out of rain, Helena protested. Yeah, and I saw a talking fox, Sara retorted. The things Helena saw never made any sense to Sara and they definitely would never make any sense to their parents, which was probably why Helena only told these fantasies to Sara and their younger brother Henry. Sara turned left down the street. She was only a couple of blocks from her house now. During the day, living on the far edge of Buchtton near the woods was an exciting adventure. When she was younger, she, Helena, and Henry would spend hours scouring the forest for materials to build hideouts for themselves and shelters for bunnies. Now that Sara was seventeen, playing in the woods wasn’t as appealing, but she still enjoyed taking walks there during her free time and observing the wildlife. In the dark though, the woods weren’t as much fun. She averted her gaze from the trees’ haunting silhouettes. And that was when she heard it. The trickle of water flowing to her right. Sara frowned. There shouldn’t have been any streams close by and she was too far away from the ocean. She blinked and turned to see a cobbled path jutting out from the sidewalk and into a darkened space between two neighboring houses. She could just make out the hint of something reflecting light toward what she assumed to be the end of the pathway. The trickling sound ceased. I’ve walked home this way so many times, but I’ve never seen this pathway. Her mind scoured to find a reason for this development. Maybe I was always so lost in my thoughts and never noticed. Maybe this was built just today. Before her thoughts could rationalize any further, a strange sensation wrapped around Sara’s body. She was being pulled. No, not physically, although it definitely felt physical. It was something…else. She had to see what was at the end of the path. Taking a shaky breath, she stepped off the sidewalk, letting her sneakers tap against the stone tiles. It felt like her body was ringing. Like a bell had been rung inside of her and now her energy just tumbled out in waves, colliding with the night air, the whispering creatures, the murmuring trees. She was part of it all and she could breathe. Then she was there. In front of a glistening…fountain? It wasn’t a glamorous fountain that rose above its visitors and spouted water onto shimmering pennies. No, it was a gray water fountain, similar to the ones Sara saw at school. Still, it glowed, its silver metallic surface possessing no hint of prior usage. It was a fountain built just for her. She waited for her breath to steady and then she stepped forward in front of the fountain. Hands shaking, she grasped the little button on the side, its polished texture cool to the touch. A jet of water bubbled in front of her. The liquid slithered down the side of the basin and slipped down the drain. It was so quiet, she wondered if it was even real. She dipped a finger into the stream of water and gasped. It was cold and slimy, just as real water should be. Sara yanked her finger away from the fountain, this strange fountain that shouldn’t have existed, and dashed back down the pathway. Once her feet struck the sidewalk, she paused. She turned back around. The stone steps, the gleam of the fountain, they were all gone. She stood there for a few seconds. The wind frolicked with her hair and jacket. The critters shuffled and yipped among the bushes and trees. I must be tired from being out all day. I must have imagined it. But a spark had been startled awake inside her. Because now, Sara knew everything her sister had said was true. The fair blinded Youngvia. Street vendors crowded the black pavement. Advertisers scurried around the crowds waving little pamphlets and business cards. It was all so exhilarating for the quiet town of Buchtton.
Youngvia clutched the straps of her cello case and continued on her way to the town hall. A few people glanced at her as she walked, but most were content to focus on the excitement of Community Day. “Hey, Youngvia!” Youngvia twirled around to see her friend Aleah racing toward her with her own cello case thumping against her back. Aleah’s dark wavy hair bounced around her shoulders and her brown eyes were bright. “Oh, my goodness,” Aleah said as she stopped beside Youngvia. “I thought I would never find you. Buchtton is such a small town, but it really gets crazy on Community Day.” Youngvia nodded in agreement. “That’s for sure. Are you ready to play?” Aleah laughed. “You bet I’m ready. My mothers and sisters are all sick of me playing the songs at home. I’m sure your family feels the same.” Youngvia definitely had been practicing a lot, but her little sister and parents were used to it now, so they rarely ever complained. She and Aleah weaved through the crowds to reach the brick building at the center of the streets. Around her, Youngvia could smell the sweetness of cotton candy and hear the laughter of kids and parents. As pop music boomed from speakers above her, she could feel the ground vibrating below her feet. The scene both energized her, but also made her nervous. What if she couldn’t do this Community Day service? It was the first time she had performed at an event like this. Most of the time, she played in school talent shows and musicals where the only people she was being judged against were other high school students. Here, the stakes seemed so much higher. The two girls finally made it to the steps of Town Hall. At the top of the steps, a black platform had been wheeled out in front of the great brown doors and tech people were racing back and forth across the stage to check the mics and connect the mess of wires that were required for the performance. “I’m so glad that I don’t have to handle the tech stuff,” Aleah said beside Youngvia. She had to shout to be heard over the speakers. “I know I would mess everything up.” Mr. Agu, the high school music and drama teacher ran over to Aleah and Youngvia from the top of the stairs. “There you two girls are.” He grinned at them. “I know how hard you have been working in class and it must be nice for it to finally be paying off.” Aleah beamed at the teacher. “Thank you for always supporting us.” “Well, go be awesome.” He nodded toward the stage. Youngvia’s heart pounding, she started up the steps. The cello on her back weighed down on her and with each step her feet made, it felt like she was walking through mud. The noises of the background faded to the edges of her senses and all that could swarm in was her anxiety. Stop it, Youngvia, she scolded herself. She had never been this nervous about performing before. She had always loved sharing her gifts with the world and being able to bring others joy through her music. Why was today different? What if everybody hates me after this? What if they think I’m terrible and stuck-up and they abandon me? There it was. That word. The word that Youngvia tried to push out of her mind all of the time. That word that had caused her so much pain since she was an infant. She glanced at Aleah. She couldn’t tell what her friend was feeling, but she wondered if Aleah also had the fear of failure leading to abandonment like her. They both were adopted, meaning that they had to have been abandoned first. It was part of their stories. Yet, Aleah had only been abandoned once and she had been adopted into a loving family with four mothers and five sisters. Youngvia had been adopted as a baby and then abandoned again when she was ten, only to be taken in by her first adoptive mother’s cousin. What was Youngvia thinking hiding behind her music? The pain of the past would never leave her. She crossed the last step and trudged toward the black stage. She smiled back weakly at the tech people who waved and grinned at her and her eyes drifted over the cobbled ground. Aleah went up the stage steps first and strode toward one of two wooden chairs on the platform. Youngvia lumbered after her friend. Her mind erratic, she unzipped her instrument and went through the movements of tuning. Her arms shivered and sweat dripped down her forehead. Even though it was a warm day, she still felt this weird sensation of feeling both warm and cold. Her stomach churned inside of her and her legs wobbled as she positioned the cello between them. The pop music quieted and Aleah flashed Youngvia a smile. We got this, she mouthed. All Youngvia could do was nod back. And then they played. Once she felt the cello vibrate between her legs. Once she heard the silence settle down among the people below. Once their footsteps quieted, their chattering paused. Once she knew she was safe up here, Youngvia could breathe the music. “See? That wasn’t so bad,” Aleah said to her fifteen minutes later after they had finished playing and were heading back into the crowds. The pop music had returned to the speakers and chattering fluttered around them. Youngvia grinned. “Yeah, it was nice.” “Do you want to talk about what had made you so nervous? Usually, you aren’t this uptight about playing in front of all these people.” Youngvia watched as a family of four passed by, their laughter a light breeze blowing by her ear. “I mean, this is our first time playing at Community Day. We usually play in more formal places where the people there are our families or people who know music. It’s weird playing here where us playing isn’t the main act.” “We’re just part of the crowd.” Aleah nodded. “Right, but it was nice…being part of the crowd. I was so worried everyone would just leave if they didn’t like what they were hearing, but no one did. They just listened. It made me feel like I belonged and that I didn’t have to worry about being abandoned.” Aleah’s brown hand grasped onto Youngvia’s pale one. “You never have to worry about being abandoned again, if that’s what you’re worried about. Buchtton is a small community, but we look out for one another, okay?” Youngvia smiled. “Okay.” “We should really try that someday,” Kaya said.
“Wait, what?” I glanced over at my friend. The sun baked her shoulder-length black hair, causing it to glow a slight crimson. “That.” My friend pointed in the distance where a group of teens our age was boogie-boarding in the waves. Their laughter tingled in my ears, causing me to smile. “Yeah, that looks pretty fun. I’m pretty sure Ayana has some boogie boards we could borrow and use.” I thought of my other best friend who lived right across from this very beach. She had been busy lately with a badminton tournament, so I hadn’t seen her very much this Summer. “We’re going to be graduating high school in just two years,” Kaya said. “We need to do it before then.” I frowned and traced a line through the sand. Although I had slathered sunscreen all over my pale skin earlier today, my fingers were still tinged pink. Were we really that close to the finish line? It was hard to believe we were going to be juniors in a couple of weeks. Sophomore year, half of which was online thanks to COVID, had passed by so quickly and our freshman year had ended abruptly due to the pandemic. Did I really have only two more years to enjoy the company of all my classmates? Ayana’s smiles. Kaya’s determination. Lucia’s creativity. Isabelle’s confidence. “You okay, Summer?” Kaya peered at me, her brown eyes brimming with concern. I chuckled and shook the grainy sand off my fingers. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just feels like things are going too fast.” Kaya shifted closer to me, her body so close our shoulders almost touched. We had been best friends since elementary school. Would that still be the same even as we moved on? A cloud blocking the sun floated off and the light blinded me, so I looked away from my friend. A breeze flitted with my blonde hair, bringing along with it the briny scent of the ocean. Even the weather seemed to be moving onward. “I honestly can’t wait to get out of here,” Kaya said. “I mean, you know how things are with my sister. I love her, but sometimes it’s exhausting when she’s having another tantrum and none of us can help her. And my parents, they aren’t the warmest of people. They show their affection in different ways and I understand that, but…” “You want something else,” I finished for her. I kept my gaze on my feet submerged in the sand. “Definitely.” Kaya sighed. “Not sure if I’ll ever get it. I haven’t earned that much money to be living on my own.” “Kaya,” I said. My heart thrummed in my chest. “We should move forward together.” Kaya stared at me. Then her face broke into a grin. “Are you asking me out, Summer?” I must have looked disappointed because Kaya placed her hand on my wrist. “I think that’s very sweet,” she murmured. “So what do you say? Are we going to tackle the future together?” Kaya leaned her shoulder against mine. “I don’t know what will happen, but you’re right, it’ll be easier doing this if we’re not alone. But first, let’s go find some boogie boards!” Celio felt the grass sting his palm and breathed in the salty air of the sea grumbling in the distance. He cherished the thrumming of the waves, the shuffling of the wind, the dancing of his own heart. He couldn’t see it at all, but he could still enjoy the environment around him. That’s what many people didn’t understand. Sometimes, you don’t need eyes to enjoy something beautiful.
“Celio, I found a nice shell!” His little brother Horatio called a few feet to his left. Horatio’s voice was light as if it could drift with the breeze. Celio pushed himself off from the sandy grass and, with the help of his cane, made his way toward the sound of his brother’s voice. The grains of sand shifted underneath the metal stick and embraced his sneakers. He loved the way his feet sunk into the soft substance as if he were being transported to another world. When he reached Horatio, he knelt down and held his hand out for his brother to place the shell in his palm. The damp, curvy figure tickled his skin and he could feel the water dripping off his brother’s slimy hand. “The water feels cold! I don’t get how you can stay so long in the waves, Horatio.” Horatio laughed. “It was worth it to get this shell.” Celio fingered the sea’s gift, stroking each curve and feeling its smooth underbelly. “It’s fascinating. You should bring it home to show Mom and Dad.” “I think I will!” Celio smiled at the excitement in Horatio’s voice. He loved how enthusiastic his brother was about all the little things in life. Celio wanted to be that way, too. That’s why he visited natural environments and forced himself to focus on his senses. He liked being himself, he liked belonging. Celio let his brother take back the shell and he buried his hand in the sand. The dry and wet particles mingled together and shivered against his fingers. He wondered if the tiny insects that burrowed in the sand were being disrupted by his movement. A flicker of guilt flashed through him. Humans could be so destructive sometimes. His brother was now mumbling a Portuguese song their mother often sang, although a bit out of tune. Celio gently recovered his hand from the soil and swayed to his brother’s music, letting himself hum along. “I want to go to Portugal someday,” Horatio said. “It would be cool to actually visit our grandparents in their own home instead of through phone calls once a year.” “Yeah.” Celio brushed off sand that had floated onto his t-shirt. “That would be nice.” He wasn’t sure that would happen anytime soon. While his family wasn’t struggling at the moment financially, it wasn’t like they had that much money to just throw around. Celio wished he could go on vacations like his friend Pavel did with his family. “Hey, Celio,” Horatio said. His voice was tentative in a way that made Celio want to pause his whole body just so he could focus on listening to Horatio. “Do you think we will ever be able to travel?” Celio didn’t know what to say. He wanted to comfort his brother, but he didn’t want to lie. He plastered a smile onto his face. “You know, we can travel right now. Close your eyes.” He heard the sounds of Horatio fidgeting on the sand. “They’re closed,” Horatio announced. “Good,” Celio said. “Now, listening to what’s around you and keeping your eyes shut, what do you see?” A moment passed. Celio focused on the wind whistling by him and the laughter of a family playing in the waves. Along the boardwalk behind him, he could hear the thumps of footsteps and the scratching of bicycle wheels along wood. “I hear people having fun and walking around,” Horatio said slowly. “What else?” “The ocean, but Celio, this is nice and all, but it isn’t the same.” Celio sighed and ran his fingers through the sand, letting the dry particles slide off his skin. He could heard the disappointment in his brother’s voice, the sadness of feeling stuck. Celio had been so focused on observing his environment, he forgot to pay attention to his brother. “You’re right. To be honest, I don’t think we’ll be able to travel anytime soon.” “It stinks.” “It does.” Horatio groaned. “Vacations are probably overrated anyway. Maybe we’re the lucky ones since we get to stay here and really appreciate this place.” Celio grinned. He listened to the sound of his brother rubbing his hand along his seashell. “Yeah, that may be true.” There is beauty in these moments, Isabelle, my father once told me as we stood in the sand. The grainy particles dug into our feet and the summer sun seared our foreheads as we watched it float down into the waves. This is a gift from God, I had thought. My mind whirled with what my second grade CCD teacher told me last Spring. But now, almost nine years later, I stand on the icy boardwalk and stare at the snow-encrusted beach with only heaviness lingering in my brain.
Is tomorrow really Christmas? A tiny flake lands on my gloved fingertips clutching the boardwalk’s railings. Shivering, I turn to the left and blink water droplets out of my eyes. The wind flattens my dark blue mask against my cheek and I take a shaky breath that fills the slim gap between my mouth and the cotton with warm air. I glare up at the pink-tinged sky. Everything had seemed so accessible back then. I used to think of the atmosphere as where God lay resting among the clouds and stars. As if all I needed to do to reach heaven was to stand on my tiptoes and grasp onto a shooting star with my bare six-year-old hands. At sixteen, that seems impossible. When was the last time I even went to a service? To a mass? We had left the Catholic church back when I was in fifth grade and hadn’t looked back since. Our new church had been much more welcoming and I had loved the people I had met there. It’s just that…it’s getting so much harder to believe. I love sunsets. The clouds are splotches of paint that splatter across the canvas of the sky. A memory trickles into my senses. My best friend Avani and I had been walking home from school last Fall. I had stayed late helping organize a food drive while Avani had play practice. By the time we had left the high school, the sky was almost completely dark. Only the barest sliver of purple lined the horizon. I’ve always thought of sunsets as more organized, I had said in reply to Avani. The colors are layered and the sun always sinks down. There’s an order to it all. Avani had shaken her head. That’s where you’re wrong, dear friend. I had spent the rest of the night thinking about Avani’s words. Even ignoring the aesthetics of sunsets, the scientific reasons for the phenomenon still expressed a sequence of events, not a random splashing of paint. But now, I realize, maybe there is truth to my friend’s claim. There is beauty in these moments, my father had said. A gift, I had thought. There is, meaning it exists. Beauty just exists. That gift exists. No structure required. I peer up at the colorful sky. With a smile, I let go of the railing. Twilight blanketed the Summer trees and little wisps of wind crackled against branches. My sneakers sunk into the moist soil and I clenched my phone in my hand. My gaze swept the forest clearing. Where was the cauldron?
Of course, the moment I went looking for that mysterious object was when it was nowhere to be found. I grimaced. I could see the trees, the dirt, the sky, but not the cauldron my siblings and I had found two years ago. I need it. Days have been so hard lately. I flopped onto the ground and traced the silt with my finger. The grime clung to the little canyons running through my skin and cooled my tingling extremities. “Mystery?” I jerked upright. My older sibling Anonymous stood at the edge of the clearing. I hadn’t even heard Anonymous’ footsteps. “Pronouns?” I asked. “She/her.” She peered at me, her eyebrows furrowed. “You just ran out from dinner. Wanna talk about that?” I hugged my knees to my chest. The last thing I wanted was to talk about my feelings with my seventeen-year-old sibling. She’s going to judge me like she always does. I glared at an ant crawling over my bright blue sneaker. “Sixth grade is going to be starting for you in a week, Mystery,” Anonymous stated. “If you can’t even talk to me, how are you going to handle all the new people at middle school?” I shoved my glasses farther up the ridge of my nose. “It’s none of your business.” “Make it mine so I can help you.” The ant had left my foot and was now trekking towards the side of the clearing opposite of my sibling. Being an ant would make my life so easy. All I would care about is finding food and shelter. Not caring whether or not people like me or if I can fit in… “How’d you know I’d be here?” I spoke to distract myself from my circling thoughts. “I can read minds.” I frowned. “You can?” “No, silly! I followed you. Our parents aren’t going to let you go off on your own like that. You’re eleven. Remember how much they freaked out when Soo did that?” I winced. It had been my fault Soo ran away. Soo struggled with anxiety and obsessive-compulsive behavior and I, jealous of all the attention she got from our parents, had stolen her bracelet. Anonymous and I had found her that night in this exact clearing. That was also when we had discovered the cauldron. Which isn’t here right now. I dragged my finger across the soil leaving dents in the earth. I shoved away the queasiness seeping into my body as sludge wriggled underneath my nails. “I want to be alone.” “If you come home, then I’ll leave you alone in your room, but I’m not going to let you sit here in the forest by yourself. It’s getting dark. What if a coyote eats you?” Anonymous plopped onto the ground beside me, causing the silt to tremble beneath my hand. I stared at my sibling. Was she really going to sit here with me? I sighed. “I’m just going to bore you.” Anonymous chuckled. “That’s true. You’re a very boring person.” “Am not!” “You just said that you are.” A smile flickered onto my lips and I peered up at the dusky orange sky swirling above us. “I’ll probably bore all my classmates.” “You’ll bore them by talking about how boring you are.” I shook the dirt from my fingers and nails. “Do you really not mind sitting here with me?” Anonymous was silent for a moment before meeting my gaze. Her dark brown eyes flickered with concern. “Hey, you’re my brother, and fine, you’re a bit boring and weird sometimes, but as your eldest sibling, I have to look out for you.” I sighed. “I came out here because I wanted to see that cauldron again. It seemed to make everything better last time with Soo.” Anonymous shrugged. “Nah, the cauldron just gave us some yummy soup. You apologizing and us going to find her was what helped.” “You really think so?” My sibling nodded. “Yeah, I do.” I scanned the clearing one last time, taking in the dark green bushes and the deep brown tree trunks. The chirping of crickets comforted my ears and the breeze seemed to carry a fresh aroma that wrapped around my body. I didn’t need the cauldron again. Anonymous was right, I did belong here. I returned my attention back to my sibling. “I’m ready to go back.” The last thing I wanted was another biology project, but the expression on Mr. Das’ face told me I was never getting out of this one. Not like I had ever tried to get out of doing a project before. It was just that...sometimes being a good student was exhausting.
“Why the long face, Noah?” I glanced up from my lunchbox to see my best friend Lizzie staring at me. Her dark brown eyes were creased and she rolled her head back as she snorted. Her short dark curly hair bobbed around her shoulders. I sighed. I ran a hand through my own black hair. “I’m just annoyed Mr. Das is assigning us another bio project.” “You guys get a new one every week and it’s only the third week of school!” Lizzie shook her head. “I’m glad I have Ms. Mei. She’s easy. Our theme is cooking and we just eat the good food she brings us.” I stuck my tongue out at her. Of course, Lizzie got the fun theme. Buchtton High School was unique in that each core class had a theme. For instance, my biology class had an underwater theme and my English class had a current events theme. Right now, I was pretty sure Mr. Das was trying to drown us in homework. “Ooh, did I hear you got another project?” I twisted to my right to see my other friend Lea sliding onto the bench with her lunch tray balanced on her palm. She grinned at me. “That sounds like so much fun. I like Ms. Mei and it’s great being in the same class as Lizzie, but sometimes I don’t feel challenged enough.” “What? You don’t like sitting around just talking about food, Lea?” Her giggles dying down, Lizzie peered at her girlfriend. “I do. It just doesn’t feel like a biology class at times.” “I don’t care about that.” Lizzie shook her head. “Biology is my least favorite science.” “Yeah, you’re a computer science girl,” I mumbled. “That’s true,” Lizzie said, smiling. She stared off into the distance as if imagining herself in the computer lab hard at work coding some confusing game. The blinding cafeteria lights flickered across her deep brown face, emphasizing her look of contentment. “So what’s your project assignment this week?” Lea asked. “We have to give an example of an underwater food chain in a creative way.” I stared at my hands. “I’m awful at drawing, so whatever I come up with is going to suck.” “Hey, your dad is a famous author,” Lizzie said, her attention returning to the present moment. “Why don’t you write a story?” Lea clapped her hands. “That’s such a good idea! You should totally do that, Noah. You’re an awesome writer, too. You helped write the play for this year’s performance.” As embarrassment shot through me, I felt grateful that my skin was too dark to see any blush. I fidgeted with my lunchbox’s zipper. “I mean, that was different. I was writing something that I was interested in. This is…” “Just a simple biology project that is literally only going to be seen by one teacher? A teacher, who already told you last week that you're one of the most hardworking students he’s ever taught?” Lizzie frowned at me. “When you put it that way…” I tilted my head as ideas drifted through my brain. “By the time this lunch is over, we’re going to have helped you make the best short story ever!” Lea squealed. ~~~ By the time lunch was almost over, a story certainly existed, but whether or not it was the best story ever...there was an obvious answer to that. I flattened my forehead against the lunch table’s wooden surface. “Mr. Das is going to think I don’t care about his class.” “Stories can be fun, you know,” Lea said. The table trembled underneath me as Lea reached in front of me to snatch the sheet of lined paper where I had scrawled all the ideas we’d brainstormed. “There’s a difference between fun and nonsensical,” I muttered. “I think if I was a krill, I would figure out a way to become queen of the ocean,” Lizzie said, her words riddled with laughter. “None of you are taking this seriously.” “You’re taking biology too seriously,” Lizzie retorted. I turned my head to glare at her. “Krill makes potion in order to turn the tides of the food chain,” Lea read outloud. “Next thing you know, for a day, all the roles are reversed. Krill are at the top of the food chain and all the predators are at the bottom.” “How can krill even make a potion?” I lifted my head from the table. “They don’t have arms.” “That’s the beauty of fiction,” Lizzie said. “It doesn’t have to make sense.” “But readers still want stories to make at least a little sense or what’s the point?” “Are you the god of stories?” Lea pouted. “Who gave you the authority to decide how all stories should be written?” “Well, I think looking at what the audience wants is a pretty good start,” I mumbled. “Stories are kind of a community thing, so if other people won’t read your story, then why bother creating it” “Ugh, you sound like my dad’s SO. Bìhn is always saying stuff like that.” Lizzie grabbed the paper from Lea. “Well, Bìhn is my dad’s agent,” I reminded her. My friend wasn’t listening though and instead was doodling a giant krill in the paper’s margins. Lea rolled her eyes. “I think stories should be what you want them to be. If krill eating whales is what you want, then go for it.” “I’m not sure what I want at this point,” I muttered. Lea stared at me sadly. She pushed a strand of her black hair behind her ear. “Hey, you don’t have to do any of Lizzie’s and mine crazy suggestions. We were just being silly.” I glanced at Lizzie on my left doodling and Lea on my right packing up her trash. Lizzie and Lea were two of my closest friends. They could be somewhat eccentric at times and I had to admit, their story ideas were a bit weird, but they made me smile. I sighed. “You know what? I actually do like the krill thing and I think I can make it work. You said I’m a good writer, right? And I did say that writing is about community.” Lea peered at me. “You sure? We’re not pressuring you or anything?” I smiled. “It’ll be fun to relax a little with a biology project for once.” Life is chaos. That is one thing I am sure of as I stand outside in the sun. My bare feet dig into the moist soil and the Spring wind crackles against my hair. The sky’s dying light warms my cheeks and I breathe in its crispness, letting it crash against my lungs and tumble down my diaphram.
Life is chaos. Shouting bellows inside the house behind me. A tangle of words tremble in Venezuelan Spanish. My little brother has once again disappointed my mother. Life is chaos. I hear the weeping downstairs of the monster my sister has adopted in secret. The poor thing is frightened by a world that fears beings like him. Life is chaos because I can’t control it. I, Loli, can’t control the sun, the dirt, the wind that surrounds me. I can’t control the yelling inside my home or the Minotaur my sister Aziza has embraced. I can’t even control my own mind and the thoughts that entwine with my brain, convincing me I’m wrong, that I’m not good enough, that I’m...not...me. And that’s something I will have to endure. I peer at the clouds gliding across the sky. They’re so fluffy and orange now. Who could imagine they will eventually grow heavy with the sorrows of the world and pound against my roof? Who could envision the little sprouts underneath my feet sucking in that pain through their roots and growing taller will only be mowed down later on? Things can change so quickly. I blink and water shrouds my gaze. I turn back toward my home with the bellows, the monster, the disorder. Yes, life is chaos and I have to endure it, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing I can do. The house was always silent. Of course, houses normally didn’t make noises when you walked by them, but the colonial on the corner of Amelia Văn’s street was soundless. Amelia doubted anyone even lived in it. Still every night, from her window, Amelia could see the flickering of candles behind the building’s white curtains.
Today in particular was a big occasion as it was Amelia’s fifteenth birthday. Not only that, but her elder sister Maisie was finally returning home from her stay in Suriname and their three mothers were putting on a big party just for the five of them. “Soccer practice alright?” Her mother Tania Patil asked as Amelia entered their home. Tania was sitting on the couch with her tablet in her hands. “Yeah, it was good. Nothing much happened.” Amelia’s thoughts were still on the house. She slipped off her sneakers and placed them inside the cubby by the door. The mirror above the shelf flickered a greeting as Amelia’s tan face came into its view. The date, Saturday, June 1st, 2115, glimmered green in the mirror’s bottom left corner. “Nothing much can be quite alright,” Tania said. “Eleanor went to the airport to see your sister and Stella had some errands to do.” Eleanor Quintanilla and Stella Văn were Maisie and Amelia’s other two mothers. “That’s good to know.” Her voice was still light and her body trembled ever so slightly. Shaking her head, Amelia strode over to join her mother on the sofa. The cushions bent under her weight and embraced her sore legs and feet. Amelia could still feel the effects of all the stretches they had been doing during practice. At least there weren’t any games today. The only reason Amelia even did soccer was because her mothers wanted her to spend more time with her peers instead of just staying home reading books and doing homework. Tania peered at Amelia and placed her tablet on the glass table before them. “Something not right? You look off.” Amelia sighed and leaned against the side of the couch. “It’s that house again. I just can’t stop thinking about it.” Tania pursed her lips. “The colonial? You need to stop worrying so much about that house, Amelia.” “Easy for you to say that. I have to walk past it every time I go to school and practice. You work at home all day.” “Even more of a reason for me to be worried about the house,” Tania countered. Her gaze flickered as if she were uncomfortable. “I have never seen anything strange go on inside of that building. Now, it’s your birthday, right? Go get some nice clothes on so we can celebrate when everyone returns.” Tania’s words slipped from English into Marathi as she spoke and Amelia gave another sigh. Would anyone ever listen? ~~~ Three hours later, the doorbell rang. Amelia, who had been sitting in her room completing her homework, glanced up at her window, which was currently exhibiting an image of a forest. The forest imagery and sounds disappeared as she commanded the screen to display the front door. Her sister Maisie and her mother Eleanor stood on the stoop. A grin stretched across Amelia’s face and she leaped to her feet and dashed out of her bedroom and down the stairs. By the time she arrived on the first floor, Tania had already opened the door to let Eleanor and Maisie inside. “Maisie!” Amelia exclaimed. She rushed forward and nestled her sister’s waist. Her sister, who was twenty-six now, had always been so much taller than her and she was glad to see that even after a year of not seeing Maisie in person, that was still the case. “You’re crushing me,” Maisie said in Panamanian Spanish. “But I’m glad to see you, too.” Amelia, still beaming, let go of her sister. All of her uneasiness from earlier had dissipated. “How was the bus ride home?” “Fortunately, not too busy,” Eleanor answered as she slipped off her shoes. The afternoon sunlight from the window reddened her wavy brown hair. “I will forever be thankful that the public transportation has become quite good in our little town of Buchtton, Massachusetts. Stella took that old blue buggy for her errands. Said she really needed it today.” The look shared between Tania and Eleanor made it clear that they both knew why Stella needed the car. Amelia frowned. Out of all of her mothers, Stella was the one who preferred using their own self-driving car over public transportation, but it would have been much easier and more convenient for Eleanor to have taken the vehicle to meet up with Maisie at the airport in Boston than for Stella to use the car just to do some local errands. “Do you know what Stella wanted to do?” Eleanor’s body stiffened, but then she shrugged. “No, but it's your birthday and Maisie is home, so I feel happy.” Still wrinkling her brows, Amelia’s eyes flitted in the direction of the colonial down the street. Its white surface appeared blood-stained in the sun and the flowery bushes skirting its edges seemed to jeer at her. Amelia held back a gasp. She was certain she had just seen one of the curtains twitch every so slightly with a tan hand grasping the fabric. “You all right?” Maisie asked. Amelia plastered a smile on her cheeks and faced her sister’s concerned dark brown eyes. She would bring up the house later. “Yeah, of course. Let’s go celebrate!” ~~~ Even when the sun had set and Amelia, Tania, Eleanor, and Maisie had settled down to eat, Stella still had not returned. Dishes were splattered around the table. Some were wrapped up in compostable take-out boxes while others were served on colorful platters. The flavorful misal pav lay at the center of the table. Garlic bread and bean stew squatted on either end. Lo mein, jollof rice, and mashed potatoes crowded the middle of the rectangular surface. There was no particular theme tonight and that was alright to Amelia. The food was just like her family. To some, the assortment may look mismatched, but, in fact, it was quite fulfilling. “It feels wrong to be eating without Stella,” Maisie said, pausing from slurping up her bean stew. “What errands is she even doing that are taking this long?” Tania shrugged and placed her chopsticks down on the edge of her plate. “Stella knew tonight was a big deal and we waited long enough for her. I’m not going to let this food get cold. It’s not everyday we go all out on meals.” Amelia nodded as she took a bite of her garlic bread. The sleek, oily carbohydrates brushed her tongue and she felt grateful for this food and to be with...well, most of her family. “Tell us more about Suriname and studying the rainforests there,” Eleanor said. With that, the attention transitioned away from Stella as Maisie chatted about the rainforest protection initiatives she helped organize and all the different flora and fauna that she had seen. As Maisie droned on, Amelia, who was situated on the right side of the table beside Tania, glanced out the window. After soaking in energy from the sun all day, the fluorescent street lights gleamed like earthbound stars. Shadows flitted around the neighbors’ yards as little trees and bushes shaded their perimeters. Naturally, Amelia’s eyes landed on the colonial. The house appeared silent as usual even with its mysterious candles flickering behind its curtains. Amelia’s gaze drifted past the windows to stare at the corners of the building. She jolted in her seat. Just barely visible on the right side of the house, she could see the edge of a familiar old blue vehicle. “What’s wrong, Amelia?” Tania asked. All three women peered down at Amelia with frowns etched on their faces. Amelia opened her mouth to speak, but then remembered what Tania had said earlier about not worrying over the house and how today they were celebrating. She didn’t want to ruin the moment with drama. “Thought I saw Stella. I think I’m going to take a look and see if she needs any help carrying things inside.” Amelia forced a grin onto her face. Tania leaned toward Amelia to try to peer outside. “Hmm. Don’t see anything, but go ahead and take a look if you want.” “Make sure to come back in time for dessert,” Eleanor said as Amelia stood up from the table. “Don’t want to miss the cake I bought.” Amelia nodded and scurried over to the door. ~~~ It took Amelia less than a minute to reach the sidewalk outside the white colonial. Mosquitos flitted around her neck and cheeks and the humidity cocooned her bare legs and arms. Sure enough, her family’s car was parked in the colonial’s driveway. Trembling, Amelia crept across the stone pathway to the building’s door. The way the streetlights accentuated the shadows and the crickets chittered in the background made Amelia feel uneasy, as if someone was watching her. As she approached the porch of the house, the front lights flickered on, illuminating the plain white seating area. A dusty wooden chair sat to Amelia’s left and a glass table covered with specks of dirt lay before it. Potted plants were scattered all over the sides of the porch, but unlike the table and chair, they seemed well-cared for. The doorbell glowed orange and with her fingers tingling, Amelia clicked the button. Ding. The sound echoed in the air and even the crickets seemed to pause for a moment. A warm breeze brushed Amelia’s black hair against her collarbone and she clutched her hands together. Thumping reverberated inside the house and Amelia took a step back. With a creak, the door opened to reveal a petite Southeast Asian woman. Amelia gasped. The woman’s tan face was...Her expression of surprise mirrored Amelia’s own. The way she gripped her hands together and stared at the ground...It wasn’t Stella, but she certainly looked like Stella, but even more than Stella, she looked like...Amelia. “Angelica,” a voice, an older, feminime voice, called from what appeared to be the kitchen. “Who’s there?” The woman, Angelica, opened and closed her mouth. Finally, she made out, “It’s no one. Just the wind.” Her dark brown eyes did not leave Amelia’s. “You’re not supposed to be here,” Angelica whispered. “Stella, my sister...your mother promised.” Amelia’s throat felt like it was being sucked into her chest. She felt cold even though the temperature outside was warm. “Wh-who are you?” she asked, even though she already knew. Angelica shook her head. “Just go.” The door shut in Amelia’s face. Her head throbbing, Amelia twisted around and scampered down the steps. She was halfway across the stone pathway when a voice called her name. She twisted to her left to see Stella standing in the driveway by their car with empty reusable grocery bags in her hands. Despite the dark, Amelia could make out Stella’s concerned expression. Holding back a sob, Amelia ran over to her mother. ~~~ The rest of the night went as planned. The five of them ate cake, teased one another, and laughed about how late Stella was. It wasn’t until Amelia was alone in her bedroom, getting ready to sleep when Stella knocked on her door to chat. “Is Angelica my mother?” The two of them sat beside one another on Amelia’s bed. Stella brushed a strand of her own black hair behind her ear. “You met Angelica once before. On your eighth birthday. I had run into her while getting flowers with Maisie for your party and invited her over. I didn’t know she was your birth mother then.” Amelia vaguely remembered that party. It had just been with her family. She couldn’t remember Angelica being there, but it sounded like she hadn’t visited long. “My sister...she got caught up in something bad, something I disapproved of. A cult, I guess others would call it, but they aren’t hurting anyone.” Stella’s eyes were distant with memory. “I pushed Angelica away for ten years until I saw her at that flower shop. I thought maybe I could be a better sister, but...I was wrong. She left your party without me noticing and it took a year before I tracked her down again.” Amelia stared down at her toes. The soft fabric of her bedsheets tickled her thighs and she fiddled with the edge of her blanket. “How did you find her?” “The group my sister is part of operates with these places called ‘Temple Houses.’ Members live there so they can do their practices privately. The group isn’t associated with any religion. They’re very seclusive and focused on community and nature. I figured out where some of the Temple Houses were and located the one Angelica was staying at the time. I offered to support her and make sure she and her friends had food. “Eventually, after a couple years, she trusted me enough to let me know that she had recognized you as her daughter when she came to that birthday party. She felt ashamed about leaving you, but she also wanted to know how you were doing, so I helped her buy the colonial across the street. Eleanor and Tania agreed to assist me. It’s now a Temple House and Angelica runs it. I help out with the more practical things like getting groceries. It’s why I don’t use public transportation. I don’t want anyone getting suspicious.” Amelia nodded. She glanced at the window, which now displayed an image of the milky way. A little fan whirred silently on her bookshelf washing Amelia with waves of cool air. What was Angelica doing now? Was she thinking about Amelia? Stella placed a warm hand on Amelia’s wrist, stilling her fiddling. “Angelica didn’t want you to know all of this because she doesn’t want you to feel ashamed of your birth mother. She loves you though and I hope you know that we do, too.” Amelia met her adoptive mother’s dark brown eyes, which she now recognized as being similar not only to Angelica’s, but her own as well. She leaned against Stella’s shoulder. Amelia knew now that the Temple House was nothing to be scared of, but that didn’t mean things weren’t complicated. She listened to Eleanor and Tania chattering downstairs. She heard Maisie shuffling around in the bathroom nearby. She could feel Stella’s grasp over her hand. Amelia had always been a loner and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. She couldn’t predict what would happen next with Angelica, but she did know she wasn’t alone. |
AuthorI'm Darcy Ridge, creating stories that all revolve around family and identity in a myriad of ways. In the past, I have shared multiple stories and published a novella online. You can find me on Wattpad and many other social media websites. They/them [Image Description: black background with the words "Social Justice and Mental Health Resources" in white in the center /end ID]
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