My Sister

My sister never had a boyfriend in high school. I think she tried to. I remember her hogging the phone at night, and always expecting a valentine. She became a preschool teacher after high school. Preschool was a few years ago; I don't remember what it was like. I must have painted all the time because my sister brought home handpainted art every day.

A year later, she met David. I call David Mr. Ugly because he made himself look like he was always crying. My parents found the court records saying he took his girlfriend on a car ride she didn't want to go on. Mom and Dad confronted my sister, and they had a big fight over it. She stormed out and everything. That evening, my sister slipped into my room and told me, "Mom and Dad don't understand the situation. I know the real story."

She never did tell me the real story.

After a month, my sister moved out of the house to be with Mr. Ugly. She was supposed to come back home every Thursday for dinner. But she only ever came over when she needed money from Dad. One Thursday dinner, when she needed bus money, my parents gave her the neighbor's old baby blue pickup truck. It made sense. I saw that truck every morning before school sitting on their lawn. It had been sitting so long the tires had no air in them. My mom said the car had one rule: only my sister could drive it.

I asked for my own truck, but Dad said, "You have to wait until you're older."

My sister said, "I'll give you the old truck when I'm done with it."

I was so excited I jumped out of my chair to hug her. We hugged for a long time until Dad made me sit back down. After that, I looked at that car as if I already owned it. But two months later, Mr. Ugly crashed it into a ditch.

One day, Mr. Ugly needed to see my sister at the preschool. I don't know what he needed, but it must have been really important because he didn't leave until he saw her. I heard there was yelling in the office. When Mr. Ugly finally went home, he had to catch a ride back in a cop car. Sometimes, I wonder if Mr. Ugly was checking if my sister was sleeping at work because she got fired for that the next week.

I didn't see my sister much after that. Sometimes she would call and ask how I was doing. I told her I was doing really well. And in these conversations, I would be sneaky.

I would say, "Thursday dinners are quiet."

And she would say, "Yeah, I guess they are."

Then sometimes I would ask about her, and she would start talking about funny things. She told me, "My fingertips hurt" or "people aren't so nice in the world anymore."

At some point, the call would just end. I would hold the phone to my ear for another minute in case she called back. But I always put the phone back down.

At school, kids in my class started telling me my sister was babysitting them. They said she knew how to make games fun and what to say to make them laugh. One family said Mr. Ugly helped babysit too. On a call, my sister said, "He was just being helpful, he wasn't even being paid."

But she stopped babysitting after that.

Then my sister's landlord threw out all her stuff. I heard about it at dinner from mom, then Mom and Dad started fighting, and it was bad too. Mom yelled, "She needs to be here with us!"

My dad would be quiet until he had enough and yelled at her to stop talking. Dad ate in front of the TV after that, except on Thursday.

In the winter, the flu got me bad. But I got to stay home for a whole week. When Mom was at the store, my sister walked through the back door. I was so excited to see her that I forgot I was sick and gave her a big hug. I must have grown because I could reach all the way around her and touch both my hands together. She gave me a big hug back but let go fast to ask me a question.

"When is Mom coming back?"

I told her, "I don't know, but real soon because I'm hungry for soup."

She told me, "Go back to bed and rest."

So I did just that but I was too excited to sleep. I heard my sister go through Mom's room, and then it got really quiet again. That night, I heard Mom crying to Dad. The next day, a woman came and played with the lock on the back door. When she was done playing, she gave Mom a key. Sometimes I like to sit on the kitchen floor and look at the back door. I let my mind wander. I see her bursting through the door with a brand new truck, and we go for a ride all around town. Then I started thinking of my sister pushing me on the swings. She would tell me, "I will always take care of you. If the moon falls out of the sky, I will take care of you. If ducks forget how to quack, I will take care of you."

I always wondered if she was taking care of me. Who was taking care of her?

That summer, Mom would give me a nickel and send me downtown to play. My friends told me I was bad luck and stopped playing with me. I never told Mom this; I might stop getting the nickel. One day, I spent the day walking up the creek behind my house. My shoes were wet, but it was hot out, so I didn't mind. A way up the river near the Anderson farm, I found forts made out of cardboard. But there weren't any kids. There was an old man with no teeth and no shirt who smiled at me. My mom told me to always smile back, but I forgot that day. Then I heard my name yelled out. I felt my back do a dance. My legs were jelly as I turned. It was my sister.

She walked towards me with her arms wide open for a hug. But for the first time, I didn't feel like hugging her. I just stared at her walking at me. Then, I wasn't even in the river anymore. I was on my class field trip to the zoo, and I was looking at the giraffes. I could hear my teacher saying, "Giraffes have the longest, thinnest legs in the animal kingdom."

Then I felt my sister's arms around me. When she squeezed tight on me, it hurt.

"Why aren’t you hugging me back?" she whispered.

I moved my arms. When I let go, she held my shoulders and said, "You've grown so much in a year."

I could only nod. I felt like she was talking at me. It was like when Dad was fixing the neighbor's truck. He would talk to it. Yell at it. But the truck couldn't talk back. The truck couldn't say, "I'm sorry I'm not working. If only I were a better truck, you wouldn't have any problems."

"Can we go to the park?" I asked. I wanted to push my sister on the swings, but my sister didn't notice my question. She started pointing around the area and complaining so I asked again louder, 'Can we go to the park!?"

She just kept talking, I wanted her to listen to me. I didn't mean to yell, but I couldn't control anything anymore. "Take me to the PARK!"

As fast as I could think, she snapped at me. "Why would I do that?"

Then I ran. I didn't look back the whole way home. 

Sometimes I think I should have stayed. Sometimes I think I should have hugged her longer. But most of the time I think my yelling killed her.