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Coming of Age American Teens & Young Adult

On the other side of the paneling, Laney could hear the low humming sound reverberating through the thin wall: “Ohmmmm.” Quietly, she opened her bedroom door and crept down the hallway, her bare feet tamping down the gummy green shag carpeting. She pressed her ear to the door and then lay down flat on her stomach to see if she could peer underneath.

Suddenly, the hum stopped. Her sister’s voice called out sharply: “Laney, I know you’re there!”

The younger girl scrambled back down the hallway through her own open door and then quickly closed it behind her. She laid on her bed for a moment and then quietly opened the drawer of her nightstand. Slowly, with careful thought, she chose seven multicolored marbles of various sizes and then crept back into the hallway. 

Once again she could hear her sister’s voice through the door, almost-singing that same low note. She lined the marbles up along the bottom of the door. The humming paused for a moment but then started again.

Laney walked back to her bedroom, opened her closet door, and lifted out a Barbie camper and two dolls, Barbie and her slightly more diminutive little sister Skipper. She gathered them up in her arms, chose a few more marbles from her nightstand, and then plopped down again in front of her sister’s door, where the “Ohmmmm” seemed to be getting louder.

This time, she arranged the marbles in a circle around the camper. Barbie and Skipper sat inside it, the picture of cowgirl cool, two sister soulmates enjoying each other’s company after a long day on the range, out hiking, or maybe kayaking, having who knows how many unforgettable adventures, just the two of them. 

Laney was just about to go back to her room to look for reasonable facsimiles of campfire supplies when her sister’s door flew open.

What are you doing?”

“Playing camping.”

“Why here?”

“I like it here.”

“I’m trying to meditate!”

“I don’t mind if you meditate!”

Samantha sighed deeply and pressed her fingers to her forehead. The wooden beads on her macrame headband clicked together as she tipped her head forward, and Laney watched as they moved as one with her sister’s long, wavy chestnut-colored hair. Samantha closed her eyes and pressed her hands together in front of her crocheted poncho.

“Breathe in patience. Breathe out acceptance. Breathe in patience. Breathe out acceptance.”

“Why are you breathing in patience?”

“So I don’t clobber you.”

“Why would you clobber me?”

Her sister took another deep breath.

“I’m going back into my room now.” 

“Do you want to play camping?”

“Laney, when you get to be a certain age, you really don’t want to play anymore.”

“You still like to play tennis.”

“That’s different.”

“You like to play the radio.”

“That’s different, too.”

“Why do you want to meditate?”

“To transcend my earthly concerns.”

“What are your earthly concerns?”

“You’re my earthly concern.”

Samantha walked back into her bedroom, but she left the door open. She sat on her floor with her legs crossed in front of her, the backs of her hands touching her knees and her thumbs pressed to her middle fingertips. She closed her eyes and breathed in, then out, then in, then out.

Laney put down her dolls, walked over to Samantha, and curled herself into her sister’s lap.

“You know, you should try to meet some of the other kids in this neighborhood. It’s gonna be a really long summer if you don’t.”

Laney stared at a fake knothole in the dark brown paneling and felt the rise and fall of her sister’s breath. 

“We’ve been here one whole month, and you’ve got almost two more to go before school starts. You can’t just hang out with me all day while Mom’s at work.”

Suddenly, the shrill clanging of a pale pink princess phone broke the silence.

Samantha twisted her upper body to grab it. “Hello?” she said quickly, her face lighting up with anticipation as she twirled the cord around her index finger. Laney endured the contortion and continued staring at the wall.

“Oh, hi, Tara,” she said, the expectation quickly turning to disappointment.

“I am happy to hear from you, and no, I didn’t think you’d be someone else… I’m ok. It’s just really boring here. We don’t know anybody. I still can’t believe we had to move here. And somebody always wants me to entertain her…. Wait, what? They’re on right now?”

She leaned forward to turn the knob on a small black and white television set in front of her. Emphatic, staticy music exploded from it.

“I woke up in love this mornin! I woke up in love this mornin! Went to sleep with youuuuu on my mind!”

Samantha bobbed her head to the music as she listened to the voice coming from the phone. Laney’s body bobbed up and down, too. 

“There’s literally nothing to do here. I wish I was old enough to get a job other than babysitting.”

She reached for a bottle of orange nail polish on her dresser and proceeded to slowly coat each of her outstretched nails with a glossy rust-colored sheen, deftly balancing the receiver between her shoulder and ear.

Laney could hear the person on the line talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying. She continued staring at the knothole, her breaths becoming more measured, her body relaxing.

Slowly, gradually, her sister’s voice converged with the tinny song on the radio, which converged with the muffled voice coming from the telephone, which converged with the persistent whir of the air conditioner, which converged with the sound of a random car horn blaring in the distance. 

Still focusing on the knothole, she felt as though all of these things were somehow connected - with each other, with her, and with Samantha. They were separate from her, but they were a part of her. They belonged here, but they didn’t belong here. They were new here. They’ve always been here. The summer stretched endlessly before them. It had always been summer, forever, since the beginning of time. 

She breathed in, she breathed out, she breathed in, she breathed out.

“Oh, God, she’s fallen asleep on me! I was trying to meditate!”

The End

May 18, 2022 01:01

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2 comments

Allen Learst
00:38 May 23, 2022

Good story. Lots of nice descriptions. Do we know where we are? Town, city? I think, though, the story could use more tension. It sounds like the sisters love each other and tolerate each other, but the ending is a bit unfulfilling. Something needs to happen, what, I don't know, but it's worth exploring. Did you ever read Joyce Carol Oats's story called Where are you going? Where have you been? Anyway, I like the story. The consistent POV is good.

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Angela Terez
17:41 May 29, 2022

Thank you so much for that feedback! This was actually my first toe in the water of fiction writing (well, for a long, long time anyway), and I'm sure it showed. I have a journalism background and think I'm a pretty solid journeyman nonfiction writer, but in nonfiction you don't have to come up with plots, and that's definitely an area I need to work on. I agree with your tension/"something needs to happen" critique completely. I did read that Joyce Carol Oates story. I acknowledge she's a master, but I really don't like her fiction because ...

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