“Is your dad, like, a serial killer?”
Zilch.
She shoots a dry-ice glare.
“Okay, fine. I don’t care, anyway.”
Empty.
I wish I were rooming with las
cubanitas. Even three to a room.
Vacant.
THANKFULLY
Tanya calls from way down the hall,
Girls! I need some help. Hurry!
There is some sort of a muffled crash.
The tension in the room, god-awful
heavy just two seconds ago, falls
away, like shedding a heavy robe.
Eliana and Rosa rush out the door.
I start to follow and suddenly Simone
transmutes, phantom into flesh. Wait.
I can’t tell you, she whispers. Ever.
She is human after all. Real. As real
as the fear alive in her eyes.
I nod my head. “I know.” I know
because I never told either. Her
story is mine, only with a different “he.”
I understand as only someone who
has been there can understand. We
have something in common after all.
APPARENTLY I MADE TANYA FEEL GUILTY
Because by the time
Simone and I
reach the living room,
she and the girls are
elbow deep in red and
green and gold.
Rosa’s eyes are wide.
Ooh. Look. Can
I hang this pretty one?
Lights first, commands Walter,
untangling a long
strand. Then ornaments.
It all looks so normal—any
family anywhere—
it’s almost enough to
make you forget
how abnormal this “family”
really is. Two
artificial parents; two
orphans. One
total mystery. And me.
LIGHTS, GARLAND, AND ORNAMENTS HUNG
The tree still looks sad to me.
It’s not that the decorations
are old (and they are). It’s that
they were all arranged without love.
This isn’t the first loveless Christmas
I’ve spent. Foster homes, however
solid, are all barren of that emotion.
You don’t dare care about someone
you probably won’t know in a year.
But I’ve had beautiful holidays
with both sets of grandparents—
Carl and Jean. Scott and Marie.
The ones with Grandma Marie
were especially special because
Hunter was there too. My brother.
The one I hardly ever get to see.
But when I do, he’s always pretty
much amazing to me. Because
he gets to be with his sister (me).
The one he hardly ever gets to see.
Those Christmases I understand
the power of family. My three
brothers will be there this year.
I so wish I could be there too.
THE ONLY PLACE
I’d rather be is with Kyle. He’s all I can
think about as I help make dinner,
Tanya chattering away about how much
you’ll love Roosevelt and church on Sunday.
All I can think about at the table, Walter
griping about the goddamn power bill.
All I can think about as Simone and I
load the dishwasher in total silence.
Wonder what he’s doing, as I brush
my teeth, get ready for bed. Wonder
if he’s thinking about me, too, as Eliana
borrows one of my well-loved books.
Wonder if I’ll ever see him again as Rosa
practices for her Sunday School pageant.
Wonder if he’s written me off already
as I crawl between the scratchy sheets.
IT IS WALTER
Who comes to handle the lights-out
bed check. He knocks, but doesn’t
wait for an invitation to enter.
Simone, in a short, gauzy nightgown,
barely covers her long legs, and Walter
is all eyes. I swear, he starts to salivate.
No. No way. Not her. And not me.
Good night, ladies. He flips off the lights,
closes the door. Did Simone notice
the demon-wolf in his eyes? Her voice
drifts toward me on dark wings of night.
I hate him. He reminds me of my brother.
Without telling me, she has shared
pop into my head. Real brother? Step?
When? How? Who told? Why did
that mean she ended up here? But in
the long run, the answers don’t matter.
BEFORE TOO VERY LONG
Simone’s breathing falls shallow.
Rhythmic. She’s wandering deep
within some sort of dream. A good
dream, I guess. She laughs softly
in her sleep. Do I ever find happiness
in my dreams? I rarely remember
them. Sleep will not come easily
for me tonight. Not in an unfamiliar
bed, in an unfamiliar room. The night
itself is a different shade of dark.
Loneliness strikes suddenly,
a cobra sinking its fangs into my
heart, venom pumping. My eyes
spill into the strange, lumpy,
bleach-perfumed pillow. Salt soak.
I should be used to this by now.
Should expect the slow opening,
the hollow place inside. I am oddly
not afraid, though I recognize
the thirst in Walter. Who knows
how he might try to quench it?
I swear I will never let him, or
anyone, take a long swallow of me
unless it is my choice. And I only
choose to be water for Kyle.
HOW LONG WILL IT BE
Before living here
becomes unbearable?
How long before the
Bear pays a call on me?
How long before I have
to find a way to flee?
Sometime before dawn
my eyes finally close.
And though I’m not quite
asleep, I feel myself drift.
Float toward that hole
behind the bridge of my nose.
If I can just fall in,
I think I might find Kyle.
If I can just reach in,
I know I’ll touch his face.
If I can just take his hand,
will we leave together?
FOR THREE DAYS
I try to settle in, try to feel
like part of this not-family,
to ignore my gut feeling.
Three days of
listening to Eliana and
Rosa argue and laugh.
Real sisters
acting like
all real sisters do,
I suppose. Who knows?
Maybe, just maybe,
everything
would be different
between my real sister
and me. The fact
is,
it could very well be
hate at first sight.
The fact is,
just
because you’re related
doesn’t mean you
want to be. So,
fine.
Forget that ridiculous
fantasy. Who needs
family, anyway?
DAY FOUR
Tanya has taken the girls Christmas
shopping. We drew names to get gifts
f
or. Stupid, if you think about it. None
of us has any money. It’s all pretend.
I drew Rosa. Figured a Barbie would do
for her, but couldn’t stomach the idea
of traipsing around Wal-Mart. So I faked
sick. Asked Tanya to pick one up.
Walter is puttering around the garage,
playing with his tools (or something else).
This is what I’ve been hoping for—a few
private minutes to try and call Kyle.
But when I dig out my cell, there’s
a message waiting for me. From him.
Summer. Call me. Please. Can’t stand …
Can’t stand not having you with me.
His voice trembles. Crying? My own
tears start to fall as I think about
his arms around me. The comfort
of his kiss. All this love, wasting …
I speed dial his number. He answers
almost immediately, as if waiting
for my call. Summer? How are you?
Oh God, I’ve missed you so much.
“I’ve missed you, too. I’m okay….”
We spend a few minutes talking.
I tell him about the blonde and the bear
and my faux sisters. He tells me about
coming to Fresno to visit his aunt
for the holidays. I have to see you.
Maybe we can get together
while I’m there. What do you think?
Get together? How? I’m pretty sure
dating is a solid foster care taboo.
“You know I want to, but I don’t
know how to make it happen.”
You can sneak out, right? His voice
trembles. I have to see you, Summer.
I’ll come early. Tomorrow. Give me
the address there. I’ll MapQuest it.
I hear a door close, bear-heavy
footsteps. “I’ve got to go! Call me
when you’re getting close.” I hang
up, just as Walter clunks down
the hall. His face pokes through
the doorway, all feral eyes and licking
lips. I pretend I’m waking up from
a flu-induced nap. “Ugh. Gotta puke.”
THE REST OF THE DAY
Is filled with
excited squeals
peals of laughter
sisterly whispers
Bear growls and
Tanya squeaks.
I lie in bed
trying not to listen
trying not to get up
trying not to obsess
about seeing Kyle
in just a few hours.
My head spins
dizzy with love
dizzy with hope
dizzy with strategy
dizzy with dreams
of tomorrow.
ALBUQUERQUE JOURNAL
Working with the FBI and the Bernalillo County sheriff’s department, Albuquerque police accomplished a major sting, arresting five members of a marijuana smuggling ring. Lieutenant Rocky Schneider said if not for an unrelated incident, the smuggling operation might have continued unimpeded indefinitely.
“It started with a simple speeding ticket,” said Schneider. “The officer noticed a definite odor of marijuana and upon questioning the driver, discovered a quarter pound under the front seat. Rather than face a more severe charge, the driver decided to cooperate with authorities.”
Albuquerque resident Wayne Allen Snow led police to a house in Rio Rancho. Upon entering, officers found almost ten pounds of highgrade marijuana, imported via runners for a major Mexican cartel. Arrested there were Adam “Buddy” Grimoir; his wife, Lince; and three Mexican nationals. All five were bound over to await trial.
“This is only a small glimpse of a much larger picture,” Schneider said. “Nevertheless, it was a righteous bust, and perhaps the beginning of a positive trend.”
Hunter
BACK HOME
Indefinitely.
Nikki won’t
even talk to
me, let alone
forgive me.
She pisses
me off. My
fault? Maybe.
But I deserve
a chance to
explain. I
could say it
isn’t so bad.
But that’d
be a lie. I’m
home, yes,
but with the
boys still in
my old room,
I’m in the
guest room.
White
on
white
with
white
trim.
I HATE WHITE
The sun through the south window
makes it much too bright in here
by day, and at night, artificial
light glares, wall to wall to wall.
If this move ends up permanent,
I’ll have to talk to Mom about paint.
My plan, though, is to give Nikki
time. Then gently wear down
her defenses. She’ll have to forgive
me eventually, right? There must
be some way to make that happen.
I can’t believe how much I miss her.
And not just the way she fills my bed
with velvet skin and satin hair and
warm spice scent. Without her,
I am incomplete. The worst thing
is, I have no excuse for what happened
with Leah. The message that bitch
left on my phone gave no room
for misinterpretation. Nikki knew
for sure I had betrayed her. And how.
SO FOR NOW, IT’S WHITE
And not just in here,
but outside, too. It
started to snow four
days ago. And it just
keeps on coming down.
Semester break, no
classes for three weeks,
I only have to worry
about driving for my
air shifts. Holidays
mean the “stars” go
home too, so I’m
pulling a few extra.
But mostly, if for no
other reason than to get
out of the guest room,
I’m helping Mom with
her Christmas stuff.
Decorating. Wrapping.
Baking cookies, even.
That’s what we’re doing
now. She tried to get
the boys to help. But
Donald thinks it’s lame.
And David prefers the pup.
GOOD THING
Someone wants to play with Sasha,
I guess. She’s at that gangly stage—
all floppy feet and squirrelly tail,
wagging into the cupboards while
Mom and I measure flour and sugar
and butter. David, says Mom,
would you please put on your coat
and take Sasha outside to play in
the snow? If you wear her out, maybe
she’ll take a nice long winter’s nap.
David is willing, so off they go.
Donald and Scott are shoveling
the decks. I’ve got Mom all to
myself, a rare thing around here
lately. We haven’t talked much
since I came back. All she knows
for sure about Nikki and me
is that we had a little fight.
I’ve got a lot more than that
to tell her about, though.
I watch her cross the kitchen
floor. Graceful, like a dancer,
and fit, especially for a woman
her age. Still working out at sixty.
Wonder if I’ll have her energy.
SHE TURNS
Finds me staring, gawking
in
admiration like a regular fan boy.
What? A booger or something?
“Nope. Just wondering where
you get all your energy from.”
Can’t slow down. Too much to do.
I have to smile. “You’ve been
saying that since I was a little kid.”
Yeah, and? Nothing has changed.
Still dealing with the fallout of choices,
not her own, made twenty years ago.
Anyway, slow down, you grow mold.
Another favorite saying. “But don’t
you ever get mad about … stuff?”
Hunter, I used to live “mad.” Didn’t help.
I REACH WAY BACK
Into memory, to another
Christmas. I must have been ten.
Kristina was here with Donald.
He would have been three.
Ron was supposed to come
with them that year, so Mom got
them a hotel room. That man
will not stay under this roof.
She didn’t give a reason, and
I wondered why she was so angry.
On their way out of Vegas,
Ron was arrested. Kristina claimed
it was an outstanding traffic
ticket. We found out later it was
for a domestic violence warrant.
Kristina came alone, checked into
her room on Christmas Eve,
and when she didn’t show up for
our usual family dinner, Mom
was mad. You can’t ever rely on her.
But she was also worried
and sent Dad out to look for her.
Turned out she was in the ER.
She claimed it was food poisoning.
Poor little Donald hadn’t had
a bite to eat all day except for a candy
cane a sympathetic nurse gave him.
You’d think a nurse would know better.
I didn’t understand until I watched
him bounce off the walls all night.
Kristina came over the next
morning. Spent Christmas Day, and
I mean all day, on her cell phone,
talking to Ron, who was already out of jail.
Mom stewed big-time. She’s using
again. Six years clean for what?
I overheard her tell Dad. I thought
she was wrong. Turned out she was spot
on. The ER visit was bad dope.
And Kristina was pregnant with David.
MOM WAS ANGRIER THEN