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“Will you come out?”
I shot my friend a wide-eyed look, brow raised. It took her a second to catch herself, and she laughed.
“No, I meant to a walk, silly.”
She was shaking her head as she hopped off my window sill, strides swift on the way to my dresser. “It’s cold out, so wear a jacket.” She tossed me the frayed blue one that I hadn’t worn for a long time. Probably since seventh grade. It was many sizes too small.
I returned my gaze to her, but she had already blown my door open. I could hear her footsteps down the stairs, flighty like the night breeze.
“Good evening uncle!” She greeted, beaming like an innocent teenager devoid of mischief. Which I knew for a fact she was anything but. “Good evening auntie! Just gonna run an errand with Miyo.”
“Oh there you are,” my dad looked up from his jigsaw puzzle, peering at me from behind his magnifying glass. One eye looking goofy, comically larger than the other one. “You alright, ducky?”
I scoffed yes. He took another moment to look at me, before nodding.
“Be careful, also grab a tub of ice cream for your mom. ” He then handed me a bunch of bills while my mom smiled at him from across the room, practicing on her harp. She had a gig coming up so she had to study the music overtime. My dad winked back at her, and I had to get out of there before I witness them flirt some more.
“M’kay,” I announced my departure, grabbing my set of keys then shutting the front door.
“Your parents are always super cute.” She chuckled, skipping beside me as we exited the driveway. “If we stay out long enough, do you think you’ll have a little brother in nine months?”
“Gross!” I exclaimed, making a face. She laughed some more, and in time I joined in. “I kinda want a little sister though,” I mused, looking up the starry night sky. Strange, wasn’t that lamppost repaired already? I buried my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “I will teach her all the knots I know, and we’ll collect rocks together.”
I quite enjoyed being an only child. And as much as I treasured my parents’ undivided love, having a built-in bestfriend would probably be nice too. I’m pretty sure all non-single children around the world groaned in disagreement just now, thinking my fantasies too naïve.
She picked up a small stick and waved it around like a sword, swinging it across my arm as we walked. “Hm, what if she turns out to be a brat? She steals your chicken nuggets and farts in your face? My older brothers did that to me all the time.”
I made another face at her, then shrugged. “She can have all my lunch if she wants,” I answered solemnly, returning my gaze to the night sky above, that inky carpet dotted and adorned with faraway diamonds, toxic smoke and ancient rain. “I don’t want to be farted on, though.”
A breezed passed, and I shuddered, hugging my arms tight to myself. She was still waving that stupid stick around, her eyes bright. Not like how I remember her. But I could be wrong. I hadn’t seen her in a long time.
“I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you could visit. Your letter was pretty vague.”
I said, studying her. Every time I thought I recognized something, the thought would slip out my mind, betraying my memory. It was a boggling experience, like walking in a dream.
“Ha, surprised you, didn’t I?” She chuckled, slipping the stick in my pocket. “It’s been, what now, five years? All my brothers are officially married, and mom is doing okay too, new boyfriend and all.”
I nodded, listening and walking. My heart ached, her bare feet padding the sidewalk.
“I’m glad they’re busy with their own lives, so I’m not sulking,” she continued. But I could tell the pout in her tone. I wish I could tell her that they must have paused to remember at one point in the day, that surely they would drive back to this hometown on the weekend.
But that would be a lie. I didn’t really knew anything for sure. I didn’t know I lot of things. I might be seventeen today, barely scratching the edge of adulthood. By the end of this year, I’ll be filling out college applications and cramming reviewers.
But inside me was the twelve year old that chased paper boats with her, foolishly brave. Still stuck in that river, thrashing against the current, head under water. Never growing up.
Just like her.
She stepped in front of me, making me stop. An easy smile on her lips, the wind never touching her hair.
“You can’t rewrite the past no matter how hard you wish for it.”
I know, I know.
“I was going to do it that day, Miyo. Doesn’t matter if you fell in or not.” She said gently, her thumb brushing the tear off my cheek. But all I felt was the cold of that day. “If anything, I am happy I saved you before I left.”
No, it was my fault.
“I love you, Miyo. I miss you.”
Five year old grief surfaced, and I sank down, clutching my arms tight. I must have been curled up on the sidewalk a long time, because when I came to, my parents were around me, the fright evident in their voices. A warm comforter was wrapped around me as my dad carried me to the car, mom’s hand cradling my head and checking my temperature repeatedly as they rushed me to the hospital.
I don’t remember much what happened after that. Apparently I had approached hypothermia, and that my body was reliving the shock of the accident five years ago. I could see my parents fight their tears, my mom’s hair disheveled as she soothed my dad who couldn’t stop tossing me a worried look, his eyes red and wet.
A couple days admitted at the hospital. Discharged and recovered, the ride back home. My mom hugged me all the way, kissing the top of my head. She handed me a stick that I had been clutching when they found me.
“It was in your jacket pocket,” she said softly, watching me closely.
I turned the stick over and over, unable to draw the boundary between grief and madness. The bills for the ice cream were still in my jeans pocket.
“Something wrong, Miyo?”
My mom asked, her hand holding mine.
I hesitated for a moment, before admitting to her what I had so long denied myself. “I... I think I want to go to therapy,” I whispered, scared. If I did this, would she disappear from my memories? With nothing but the pain to anchor her to me, will I be betraying her?
“Oh baby,” my mom inhaled, cupping my face so I could look at her. “Of course. Anything you need.” My dad met my eyes through the rearview mirror, and I felt his encouragement.
One month passed.
One of her brothers drove back with his family. I knew, because I bumped into him buying candles and flowers at the farmer’s market. In his eyes, I saw a flash of contempt. But then sadness took over, then forlorn tenderness. He asked me if I would like to visit her grave with them. I would have politely declined, if it weren’t for his four year old looking up at me expectantly.
“You can tell them stories about her,” he offered.
My nose stung as I relented. Of course I would be honored to tell them about their auntie.
My bestfriend.
“Miyo, your dad and I have big news.” My mom paused, having sat me down as soon as I came home from the cemetery. She looked like she was holding her breath, an odd sweat in her movements that were far from her soft grace as a harpist.
Somehow, I knew. I felt it in the cold patch that brushed my cheek.
“Is mom pregnant?” I asked, smiling when their faces slackened in surprise. I laughed.
“Honey, I think Miyo is an esper,” my dad joked. I could see his relief, that I received this information well. Their family of three for seventeen years, soon to be much bigger. “Tell us what else you know, O seer Miyo.”
I laughed again, tickled by their antics. I was so lucky to be loved so, to have pillars so supportive and strong.
“Hm... I think it’s going to be a baby sister.”