Lisa's promise

TW: Mentions of illness

For some reason, objects seem further away when people are in a rush to reach them. Maria’s car looked like it was on another continent despite us running as fast as we could. We didn’t know if anyone was behind us, but it was too late to turn back; after all, we would have still gotten in trouble by giving up halfway, might as well just do it. 

It was a weird morning, taking away the fact that I was running away from school, which is punishable with suspension if they catch you, of course. But I'm a dumbass, instead of just leaving early like most people, I waited because I wanted to pretend to be a good student for a bit longer and turn in my goddamn paper first period. But what happened? Mr. Giles decided to not give bathroom breaks, I was already pretty late for my escape so I just made a run for it. I was so scared, I didn't even want to look behind me and see the tall, bald, skinny figure of Mr. Giles, so I never looked back.

My only reassurance was the fact that Maria had done this in the past; you know, skipping classes was a yearly event for her at this point, but we didn’t intend for our escape date to also be the date that the superintendent visited the school. Shit happens.

I felt a weird relief when my hand touched the passenger’s door, but the moment I got inside the feeling of the rush just took over again; the engine was not turning on. I could already see the school’s door opening as I yelled, “Turn this shit on!” To which Maria just shushed me over and over again. In seconds that felt like hours, the car cooperated, and a big exhale escaped my mouth as we made our way to the destination.

“You know, she will probably kill us when she finds out.” Maria was the type of person to give a warning post-fact. I’m more of the type of person to think ``go big or go home’’, quite a cliche if you will, I assured her “She would kill us even more if we go back.” My heart had finally calmed down, but an overwhelming melancholic feeling soon went over my nerves. I knew she felt it too. For someone so talkative she was very silent. I pulled down the window to feel the warm breeze of May, and for some noise to somehow break the tempestuous muteness that we both had. It was still no help.

“Everything will be fine,” I said, as I reached out to her shoulder. “That’s not true.” I nod my head in disagreement, although I knew she was right. “Look at you,” she continued, “Skipping class, willing to run away from security, at 8 am, you know damn well those suckers will call your mom and you don’t seem to care enough.” She was right, again. This is very unlike me, but helping me go through with it is very unlike her. What is very like me is to take the blame for everything, although this time it was really on me. “This is all my fault,” I said. “I made that promise, and I know I shouldn’t have, I was so stupid, but she looked very sad, and-and hopeless, I just-” I took a few deep breaths as I thought of what excuse to blow to the air. “You just forgot about the fact that not only you had class, but you’re also a fucking scholarship student, for fuck’s sake Daniel, your mom is going to kill me too.” As you may notice, Maria was pretty close to my mom, we lived near each other, and somehow Maria ended up agreeing to take care of me, as if I was a kid, she’s just a year older than me. Maria thinks that she owes something to my mom to the point that she’d lick her shoes if asked to. 

I think that the rush of having my academic life be obliterated made me not notice Maria’s car. Is very interesting since she uses it a lot, and you can tell what she did the day before by just paying attention to certain things. It was a red mustang she had inherited from the old man next door. He died about two years ago and apparently was very close to her. From what I’ve heard, she has always had an affinity for old cars; her mom is a mechanic. When the old man moved into the house, she would purposely walk the dogs every other hour to admire it. Though there was nothing to admire. 

It was an old car; it looked nicer by the time I was skipping class because she spent an entire year fixing it. But even then, one of the doors was jammed; I don't know exactly how bad but bad enough that she had to replace it with a door from another car with a color that barely matched. One of the lights was always broken, so it was a matter of luck to see whether or not 

It would work at night. We would be at the car’s mercy since the engine didn't turn on most of the time.

She tried her best, you know, to keep the car tidy and cared for. But, it was the little details of Maria's everyday life that made this car fascinating. You could see the five hair ties in one of the cup holders and conclude that she went to practice the day before; her thick hair kept breaking the ties; her solution was to just carry more. More than one empty water bottle in a plastic bag in the back would normally mean she drove her friends home after school. The plastic straw in the driver’s door compartment would hint that she barely slept last night, and this morning before school she bought some coffee. She doesn’t like to use straws but when she does she saves them. 

Her low-pitch voice breaks me out of my detective fantasy “Can you stop doing that?” she said while holding the gear steadily with both hands, she’s stressed. “Do what?” Shit. Did she notice? “Examining my car. I noticed.” 

“Sorry, I was just looking for distractions.” I really was, I'm always looking for them; distractions keep me interested, at least that's what I tell myself.

“You know, you should be excited, we’re going to see her. You always get excited when we visit her.” Her elbows lowered, slowly, thinking of me being calmed might’ve calmed her, perhaps her being calm will calm me. 

“I know.” I knew. I knew that although I may have jeopardized my perfect attendance record, the trust Mr. Gil has set on me since the beginning of the year, the amount of work and sacrifices my mom has made to get me where I am, I knew that it was all worth it, for her.

For her, for Lisa. For the girl that helped me put up poster signs when my dog went running away from home, for the girl who held my hand when I wouldn't get any phone calls about him. For the girl that would sneak into my house when I would miss school to give me at-home remedies that she found god-knows-where. For the girl that was there when they cut our electricity, she was there with a box full of lanterns and somehow managed to make a game of shadows of some sort. For the girl that would acknowledge me when everyone else wouldn't. For the girl that was there when I would get in trouble for one bad grade at one assignment. For the girl that covered for me when I got drunk for the very first time. 

Lisa, I hope there are many like her. I hope the world gets full of Lisas. We'll need more once this one is gone. 

My daydream is abrupted by the aggressive door slam of the driver's seat. For someone that loved her car, she sure didn't mind breaking another door. She was there, she was always there, sitting down, sniffing the air. Honestly, there was a time she didn't participate in such calming activities like sitting still on her house porch contemplating afternoons. But, having your own body kill itself slowly does something to the cheerful nature of people. I didn't get out. I don't think I have to refresh the fact that Maria was a veteran in skipping class, unlike me. If Lisa's mom was to find me here, I'd be dead by her own hands. Plus, I can't face her like this, It was hard enough facing her the day before, let alone now. 

It was hard to hear the chatter between the two but I sensed that us going through with the plan made her happy. At least I hope it did.