one

THE car ride up to Rhode Island seemed to last forever. I was never really a fan of road trips, anyway. Being strapped to a chair for hours while playing listless “I Spy” with my little sister wasn’t my idea of having fun. In fact, I hated it. My parents sat up front, and I could tell that they didn’t enjoy long trips either. My mother, in the passenger seat, was dead asleep with her head tilted back and mouth wide open. I had to laugh a little bit, because I knew she’d be embarrassed by looking this ridiculous. My father was driving and turning up his baseball game which was crackling over the radio. 

“ I spy...” Gabriella screeched. “Something... BLUE!” 

From the back bench seat, my older brother turned over onto his side. He hadn’t spoke a word the whole way up, but none of us had expected him to anyway. I had to convince him to come along with us to Rhode Island, as we do every summer for about a whole month. He told me he’d rather choke than come with us this year, because of the recent strain between him and our parents. I guilt tripped him, successfully, telling him I’d be so lonely and bored without him there, and that he couldn’t possibly leave me stranded with my parents and a six year old sister who can’t carry a conversation in a basket. 

Just last week, we got a phone call from my brother. In the evening, our home phone chimed out, ‘Call from Shay, Mitch’. Mitch was always the smartest kid I knew, and an easy show off to my friends when I was younger. He always had an answer, even to my dumb questions, and could make anybody laugh. I was never jealous, no matter how many times I was compared to him. In fact, it made me admire him even more, if possible. 

Mitch was that dorky kid in middle school. He was the one with the high white socks, who always had a backpack that weighed around a thousand pounds. Annoying kids in the hallway would always nudge his backpack hard, sending him spinning in the other direction, just to be mean, and well, because they were fifth graders and they’re supposed to be annoying. 

Throughout high school years, however, he had become more popular after his amazing summer of puberty. His acne cleared, he became taller and broader, voice deepened, and well, sort of attractive. He apparently received so many opportunities of popularity that year, like being invited to parties, and the occasional ditzy girl standing by our front door asking him to take her on a date. Like I said, he was smart and wildly driven, and he didn’t want too many things in his way. He’d spend his days usually studying furiously or sketching here and there under the large noses of our mother and father. 

Ignoring his sudden popularity didn’t make it disappear, but his modesty made it grow. Despite all this, he stayed the same. iPod in his ears, looking down at his feet, backpack heavy as hell. Of course I don’t know this about him now. He just finished his sophomore year at Brown University  majoring in law, and I just finished my freshman year at an art school in Georgia, planning on going into design. Since Mitch has been at school, he’s been more quiet. He doesn’t like to talk about his time at college, or brag about the good grades we expect he’s getting. That’s why this phone call was a surprise. 

“Hey,” he said on the phone that evening, sounding weary. “Can you put mom on the phone?”

I felt a slow tightening knot form in my stomach. He sounded terrible. I knew something was up besides from the way he sounded. Mitch didn’t ask me how my year was rounding up, or torture me for information about a boyfriend or mindless gossip. Whenever we talk on the phone, it’s always this back and forth, no matter what we’re doing at the time. 

I didn’t question his sudden rush to  speak to mom, but instead found her upstairs, relaxing on the printed white sofa with a glass of red wine. My dad was sitting across from her in a chair, reading the local newspaper.

“Mitch.” I said, and handed the phone down to her. My father put down his newspaper, and looked in the phone’s direction. The bags under his eyes were increasingly present to me now, as the sun hit them just perfectly, bowing beneath the trees this time of day.

“Mom,” I heard through the phone. “I need to talk to you...”

I left the room but hid in the hallway to listen. Whatever it was, it was bad, but my curiosity was never thirstier. 

After a few moments of silence, my mother whispered, “Excuse me?”

Another silence, and now my father put down his paper completely, and looked at my mother while she listened to Mitch.

“I’m not completely understanding what you’re trying to tell me here, Mitch.” But she did understand. 

It suddenly clicked in my mind, and I knew what he was saying to her. Oh no. 

“You can’t do this to us! This just isn’t acceptable!” She yelled, and started to pace around the room. The vain in her forehead pulsated, and the corners of her mouth depressed.

This conversation, or yelling match, went on for over an hour and a half. Both my mother and father had a good share of the phone, neither of them trying to side with Mitch. 

I had a hunch. Every time I’d force him to tell me how college was going, he’d respond with, “Oh, it’s fine.” or, “It’s boring, but... you know...” and even sometimes he’d joke, “Maybe I should just quit and be a street performer, eh?” I don’t actually think he was joking. Besides the street performer part. In high school, he would be so excited about nearly everything he’s doing. He’d talk my ear off about the Mythology paper he was writing for class, and about how he was actually excited for the scheduled lecture the next day. Now that he’s been at Brown, nothing. He doesn’t talk about how ‘exciting’ his classes were, or how learning to be a lawyer was so ‘interesting’.  I’m his sister, and I consider myself to be one of his best friends. I know when something is wrong  with him. I had a hunch that he wanted to drop out of Brown. 

I would be supportive about him wanting to pursue something else. But what pissed me off was that he didn’t even talk to me about it.

“I am so glad we are going on vacation. So glad.” My mother said after finally hanging up the phone. I was still hiding in the hallway, now with some dinner I took from the refrigerator. 

So here we are now, in the rotten fruit smelling van. 

“Something blue, Lizzy, something blue!” Gabriella whined again. I was half listening, while my music from my iPod pumped through my ears.

“I dunno, Gabby... the sky?”

“No, silly!” She pointed down to my metallic blue iPod.

“Good one, Gabby.” It was, considering her previous ones had been the green trees, grey road, and the brown dirt.

“Just an hour now.” My dad grumbled. Thank God. I could’t wait to get out of this car, get in my room in the summer home, and shut myself off for a bit. 

About forty five minutes later, my mother woke up. Her hair was standing up untamed in the back, and she started to point out our favorite spots as we drove into the town. We all recognized it immediately. After ten summers of coming here, it has become our home away from home. The small little shops that were scattered through town, the large water tower in the middle, and the street we rented our house on were more than familiar to us. 

We took the right turn into the dirt road neighborhood, and I started to unbuckle my seatbelt and slip on my flip flops.

“We’re here, we’re here!” Gabby screamed, making the whole car jostle.

“Gabriella Tonya Shay,” My brother said, his first words today. “Must you?” 

She giggled, and her short black hair shifted across her face.

My father pulled into the driveway, in front of the familiar blue house. 12 Lakeside Road it read on the mailbox. Instantly Gabby shot up, and ran into the thinning yard.

The air was fresh, with the salty smell of the ocean that stung my nose, and a distant waft of barbecue. I suddenly realized how hungry I was. We last stopped at noon at an Arby’s, and it was nearly eight now. We had wrappers and bags still stuffed into the tight corners of the car, in between luggage and bicycles. My mother had made us all sandwiches, but I refused to eat these. She mentioned a “Special Surprise in Liz’s Sandwich”, which I assumed was a food that should never be in a sandwich. We all questioned my mother’s cooking... Even if it is just putting sandwich meat on bread. 

“I am starving.” I said aloud, dragging my luggage into the small living room.

My father nodded, and slumped into the nearest cushion chair. “I’ll order a pizza.”

My mother suddenly looked cross. “I still don’t know why we are letting these tasty sandwiches go to waste.”

She pulled them out of the cooler, and looked around at us. Like I said, she wasn’t a good cook. She tried to make homemade pizza once two years ago, Oh God, and left it in the oven for an hour and a half. When I got home from school, I smelled it burning away, and told her that it may be past time to take it out. Her response was, “Oh no, honey. That just means it’s baking.” 

Of course, it was burnt to a crisp. 

“Mom, we question your cooking.” I admitted.

“Sandwiches. Not cooking.”

I laughed, hoping it wouldn’t faze her. I couldn’t tell nowadays. We used to laugh about anything, from her cooking mistakes to how ridiculous she would look with hat hair. Now it seems I walk on eggshells. Not looking to see if she was really upset, I brought my bags up to my room on the top floor. It was hot. Real hot. It was the closest to the roof; you could even consider the whole floor the attic. It had painted yellow walls, a single twin bed, dresser, and a cushy chair in the corner. I opened all the windows, including the screened skylight, and it instantly cooled down.

Unpacking my things, I heard laughter of the girl next door. Her name was Debbie, and I’ve known her since I was eight, and she was truly ‘The Girl Next Door’. 

Happy to see her, I went to the window and shouted, “Hey Deb!” 

Mouth open in a toothy smile, she waved both hands enthusiastically, and ran near the house. Within a few minutes, Deb was up in my room, helping me unpack.

“I can’t believe you’re here! Last summer seemed like yesterday.” She flashed her gorgeous smile again, and made me jealous. 

She was the kind of girl that all the guys want, and she doesn’t even try hard. Her tan was natural, she had pretty brown eyes, and big wavy blonde hair. As for me, who burns instead of tans, has to put on make up each day to look public appropriate, and dull, unmanageable curly hair.

“Yeah, not for me. Last summer seems like decades ago. This year was kind of a long one for me.”

“Well, a good one, I hope.”

Deb was going to the local university, the University of Rhode Island. It’s no surprise, really. She went somewhere close to home where she could still see her many friends, and went to a school where parties and drinking wasn’t hard to come by. 

She fixed her hot pink top, sliding it slightly to the left, exposing an extreme bikini tan line on her shoulder.

A guy yelled up to the window, which I instantly knew was for Deb. She smiled, and verified this. 

“Who’s the guy?” I asked, rolling a shirt into the drawer. 

“His name is Adam. I met him at a party a few nights ago. He’s real sweet.”

Adam. I hated the name Adam. It literally made me want to vomit. 

“Actually, aren’t you dating a guy named Adam too, Liz?” Deb gawked, and stared at me with big brown eyes.

“Um, no, actually. We broke up.” I tried not to make it sound pathetic, but it came off that way anyway.

“Liz, you didn’t tell me that! I’m so sorry!”

Deb and I would chat on the phone often, keeping each other up with one another’s lives, so there would be no news dumping when we see each other. It would work most efficiently, but there was always a piece or two of gossip one didn’t tell the other. Like my break up with Adam, for instance.

“Yeah, well he was a jerk anyway.” I rummaged through my suitcase mindlessly, hoping she wouldn’t say anything else. I was still stiff on the subject, and wanted to stay far away from it.

“Well, most of them are. But my Adam...” She peered out the window where he was standing patiently. She didn’t say anything else.

I had remembered last summer, when Deb had met a guy, and he turned out to be a total a*****e, and she said she would never date another guy because they were all pigs. I guess she got over it. I suddenly wondered how many guys Deb has been with, blissfully unaware that they were all the same, and would dump her or cheat on her weeks to a couple months later.

“Sorry, Liz.” She said. “We were just about to go out. I hope you don’t mind.” Deb glanced back out the window.

“Of course not. See you later.” 

She left, and her blonde hair bounced behind her. I looked out the window when grey clouds started to form, and the wind was kicking up. I closed the skylight after dirt from the roof started to sift in in response from the wind. I looked out the window again, where I saw Adam and Deb holding hands and walked down the street, her face lit up and pretty-like.

This trip will be long, I thought to myself.

After our supreme pizza from the Greek restaurant five miles away, the house was quiet. Some certain little sister had to bring up Mitch’s roommate, Dave, who she had taken quite a liking to on move-in day. Of course even lightly touching on the subject of Mitch and college tightened the rope between the three of them. We almost had a normal dinner, and this sort of  brought the night to a damper. Nobody wanted to talk about it, not just yet, but Gabby didn’t know that. 

“What did I do wrong?” She said, and widened her blue eyes at me.

“Nothing, Gabby. Let’s go upstairs and I’ll play dolls with you.”

I could see Mom and Dad beginning a lecture, and Mitch was already slouching in his chair. 

Gabriella had the room next to mine, but it was a lot smaller and the walls were painted a pale pink.

“Why are Mommy and Daddy so mad?” She said instantly as we stepped into the room.

“Because of Mitch. He wants to leave college.”

I don’t sugar code things for Gabby, even if she’s just six. If she asks me a question, I’d answer it, and I’d answer it honestly. She asked me what she did wrong earlier. And I did answer honestly. Nothing. They needed to talk about this, sore subject or not. 

“Because of Mitchie?” She didn’t get it, like most things. Obviously, she hasn’t grasped the concept of college yet. Mitch leaving school didn’t seem like much of a big deal to her, so I explained. She listened, and blinked heavily every once in a while. 

“So that’s why they’re upset with Mitch.” I finished with, only to find that she was half asleep. I tucked her in, and kissed her goodnight. 

There were only soft grumbles downstairs and the sound of the local news turned on a low volume. There didn’t seem to be a fight tonight it seemed, so maybe they have sorted things out. 

Reviews

[Jetta Zippora]

Really nice! Great writing, friend. Excellent details.

[Satori]

Interesting lead in to what feels like a complicated family dynamic.