Work Text:
I was so excited when I heard that my parents were finally going to let Phoebe come and visit me for the first time in the hospital.
It'd been around six goddamn months by then, and Phoebe never really wrote to me. I was starting to think she died or something on account of her not writing, and DB never mentioning her and all. I was real close to asking the nurse who sometimes checks up on me to send flowers to my house. I really was.
But in any case, she wasn't dead, and she was coming to visit me. I wasn't sure if I would even recognize her, since a lot can change in six months. I mean… I figured she'd still be mostly the same. I was just a little scared that she'd grown up while I was gone or something, and she'd be like a different person. People change a lot when they grow up, after all. I know DB did. He became no fun.
I don't know what I was expecting, really. But I swear, whatever I expected, what happened was way worse.
The nurse told me she was there, so I got up and got ready to see her and all, and Phoebe walked in through the door. I damn near had a heart attack– her hair was way above her shoulders. I'd go as far as to say it was shorter than mine.
“Phoebe?!”
She looked exactly like Allie, I swear to it. She'd just turned eleven, and the two of them had the same bright red hair– the same eyes, too. You'd think they were twins. Hell, I was almost certain I was looking at a ghost, until she started talking.
“Holden!” She acted like nothing was wrong. It damn near killed me, almost. It was sort of funny in a way how casual she was about the whole thing. She just gave me a hug.
I wasn't having it, though. I loved her, but if you were me, you'd understand. It looked wrong, so very wrong. Like there was literally a ghost in my hospital room, I'm telling you. It was creepy as hell.
“You look like a boy,” was all I managed to stammer out. She paused, like she just remembered, and froze.
“Oh, yeah– some kid in my class cut a chunk of my hair out with the scissors while we were listening to the teacher talk about something. Mama had to cut it real short, like a boy's hair, because that was the only way to fix it.”
I didn't want to imagine my poor mother cutting Phoebe's hair to look just like Allie's. She still never got over him… it must have been awful. Or maybe she liked it, and she thought it was like having Allie back. I wasn't sure.
“Why the hell did some kid do that?” I asked her.
She looked down. “They think I'm weird because I wear your hat to school,” she admitted. I'd given it to her, since she missed me so much and all. DB said she wouldn't take the damn thing off if you paid her– even to wash it.
“Look, you can't–” I sighed. “If kids are being jerks to you, just stop wearing it.”
“No!” She protested. This kid was impossible… once she decided she wanted something, there was no changing her mind.
“Come on–”
“I'm keeping it!”
It was just about then that I realized that my hat was to her what Allie's baseball mitt was to me– so I just let her be.
I knew how much it probably meant to her, and I wasn't going to be the one to take that away. I'd sooner rot in hell than do that to someone. Really, I would.
“Fine… just– if anyone ever does something like that again, you tell me, okay?” I pleaded with her. “You tell DB, too– or our parents. They'll sort it out for you.”
I was getting real worried for her. I didn't want to even think about anyone being mean to her, let alone about her not telling anyone. I couldn't even describe to you the relief I felt when she nodded.
“Okay, okay…” Phoebe rolled her eyes. The sight of her with short hair was almost starting to make me sick.
I sighed. I don't know what happened, but my head just sort of left me right then. I said something I didn't mean to say.
“Thank you, Allie.”
I froze just as soon as I said it. I didn't mean to– I was just real tired, and she looked just like him, and I was feeling real goddamn peculiar as it was, ever since I saw her hair. It just… came out. I would have given anything to take it back, and I regretted it the second I processed what I said. That just happens to me sometimes. My head gets all mixed up, and I say something I don't mean. I don't know why. I guess it just happens to everyone. It's worse when I do it, though.
I was feeling real sorry for ever opening my mouth at all, for ever letting her come visit… for ever even giving her my hat. Hell, I was almost feeling sorry that I never jumped out a window or something when I had the chance, before I ended up here. At least I wouldn't still be around to screw everything up.
The silence sat for a long time before Phoebe finally said something.
“...I think Mama is waiting for me outside.”
“Right,” I sighed, shaking my head. I gave her a quick hug. “Promise to actually write to me from now on?”
“I'll try,” she promised, quickly getting up and walking out the door. “Goodbye, Holden!”
“...Goodbye, Phoebe.”