by K. A. Holt
I’ve never seen two ladies, a kid,
and a turtle
have a conversation before.
Great! See you later, then.
We walk past them,
to my front door.
We walk past them to Tam’s
front door.
This is going to be a great night.
Am I about to go watch
Tam’s volleyball game with
two old ladies
(but not their turtle)?
That seems pretty . . .
exciting?
Kate
Bookshelves smile
under the weight of so many books.
They curve and curl
looking soft
like a grandma’s lap,
piled high
with all the best things.
Paths worn in the carpet
show years of feet
wandering to the kitchen
running to the bathroom
tip-toeing to the den.
And everything smells good.
Like love and books and
people and family.
Like dinner and plants
and cats
and
Tam.
The whole house hugs me
when I walk in.
Is that a silly thing to say?
TAM
Mom.
Mom.
Stop.
Mom.
Mom.
Shhh.
No.
We just want a snack.
And to go to my room.
Mom.
Mom.
Stop.
Mom.
Mom.
Shhh.
MOM.
TMI.
MOM.
Well this was a terrible
terrible
idea.
Kate
If I were standing under
a tree losing leaves
and those leaves flew down toward me
so fast
I couldn’t catch
any of them
as they fluttered past,
and I tried to grasp
every single one
so I could inspect them,
look at their little leaf veins,
smell their outdoorsy scent,
memorize their color;
if I were standing under
that tree losing leaves
so fast
I couldn’t catch
any of them,
it would be like right now
the rat-a-tat-a-tat
of Tam’s mom
chatting about everything
all at once
and wanting to know me
more and more and more.
I want to catch all her words
all her questions
all the twinkles in her eyes,
hold it all in my hands
and breathe deep,
the newness of Tam
and her Mom
and her house
and her everything
seeping deep
into my soul.
Kate
When Tam’s mom asks
if I have any sisters or brothers
I don’t even think before I say,
My sister Jill!
She’s coming back to town!
I still can’t believe
she was in the NAVY
all this time.
I haven’t seen her in
so
so
long.
My voice trails off
as my brain catches up with my mouth,
as my eyes see Tam’s mom smiling,
maybe a little surprised,
and Tam staring, like
WHAT, YOU HAVE A SISTER
WHO WAS IN THE NAVY,
WHAT.
She’s a lot older than me.
My voice sounds stupid,
high-pitched now,
like I’m questioning what I’m saying.
She doesn’t really get along with . . .
I . . .
Uh . . .
I . . . was a surprise baby.
Change of Life Child
or something dumb like that.
I . . .
Tam’s mom puts her hand on my hand,
nods, her smile says shhh.
Then she tells me Tam should have a brother
but Tam ate him in her womb
and Tam screams
MOM! NO!
And everything is fine again.
TAM
She said she’d make us snacks
but
she won’t
stop
talking.
Mom.
OMG.
Mom.
Stop.
She’s telling Kate everything
everything
about my life.
I did not eat my brother
in her womb,
good grief.
It’s called Vanishing Twin Syndrome.
I looked it up a long time ago.
It happens all the time,
totally normal.
She’s trying to be cool,
saying things like
amirite?!
and now she’s asking more questions
about Kate’s sister, Jill,
who I didn’t even know existed
except for when Kate’s mom
said she shouldn’t be like Jill
and I was like
I wonder who that is
and
OMG.
Mom.
STOP.
STOP!
If I were Kate
I’d take a brownie
and run as far away
from this crazy woman
as possible.
Kate
Her hair flies free
around her face,
wisps of gray
taking flight
like she’s been mildly electrocuted.
And her smile is
full of light,
showing crooked teeth
that are lovely really,
imperfect
reality.
Tam’s mom is a book
you can’t judge by its cover
because she’s wide open,
every page right there
to be read
in giant letters
begging you
to read more,
to flip through,
to lose yourself
in all her truths.
I can’t help my eyes
as they grow wide
as Tam’s mom goes
on
and
on
and
on.
I can’t help but steal glances
at Tam
who looks ready
to explode.
TAM
I know we have duct tape
in the junk drawer
behind
Mom’s butt.
If I can get her to move
I can make a dive,
grab the tape,
and
seal
her
mouth
shut.
Shouldn’t be too hard.
I think I can do it
and grab a brownie
to boot.
We should go to my room,
I say
my voice not as strong
as I want it to be.
Sorry to leave
you
alone,
Mom,
but as you always say,
you only YOLO once.
My eyes say
I am extra super
not
sorry.
We’ll be ready to leave
pretty soon.
Cool?
Mom stares
into
my face
and her lips twitch up
once
a move so tiny
only I would ever see it,
and the words she doesn’t say
are louder than the words
she hasn’t stopped saying.
Her eyes whisper,
When was the last time you had a friend over
who wasn’t Levi?
They say,
A cheerleader?
They beg me,
I need to know more, more, more.
Twenty minutes.
Meet me in the car.
Leave the door open, you two!
I grab Kate’s elbow
and half drag her
out of the kitchen
and to my room.
No duct tape necessary.
Today.
Kate
I love
love
knowing
so many
new things
about her.
Is that weird?
I love seeing inside
her world.
I love
love
knowing
more
and
more
and
ooooof
she’s dragging me
away.
TAM
I shut my bedroom door
and lean against it
like we’ve just escaped
from a bear
or an axe murderer.
Kate laughs
and plops down onto my bed.
Your mom is . . .
I raise my eyebrows.
different than my mom.
Now it’s my turn to laugh.
You think?
Kate shrugs.
Just a little.
And when she giggles
I see the brownie
stuck to her teeth
and it looks so sweet
and gross
my insides get warm
and melty,
a gross undercooked brownie
of their own.
Kate
Her face crinkles.
Her eyes dip low.
Oh,
she says,
Yeah.
It’s kind of a long story.
But I press
and ask
and cajole
and tease
and finally she tells me
how she lost a game,
punched a wall
and her mom found a frame
for the hole.
Her voice climbs high,
a cartoon voice
dripping with
goofiness,
punctuated with
pink cheeks:
Personal expression is art.
Feelings are for sharing.
A hole can be poetry.
Blah blah blah.
Tam flushes . . .
is she . . . ashamed?
My mom,
she says
with a shrug
eyes on the bare carpet,
is a hippie.
Can’t you tell?
But I can only stare,
mouth open,
at the frame.
Worn carpet, sagging shelves,
and a hole in the wall?
My mother would burn this place down.
That’s what makes me ashamed.
Alex
Alyx
Alexx
Who do we have here?
Cheering at the game?
In an unofficial capacity, of course.
Ponytail.
In the stands.
Smiling wide, wide, wider.
Redwood.
Liquid fire.
As if no one else is here.
But what about Levi?
Cooling off.
Watching close.
So much action.
On this Thursday.
At this volleyball game.
Kate
The two old ladies from earlier today
wave
from a few sections over
and Tam’s mom waves back,
says,
I’m gonna run over there
and chat,
wanna come,
or are you okay?
But I can tell by her smile
she knows I’m going to stay
right here
in this seat
to watch the whole game.
And now,
by myself,
I allow a thing
I keep wanting to do:
I stare at Tam
as long and as hard
as I want to.
Everyone else in the stands
is watching too
so it isn’t strange
for me to zoom zoom zoom
in
and memorize
the tall girl
my new friend
invading my thoughts
in a way so intense
it’s like riding a wave,
climbing higher and higher.
The more I see her,
the more we talk,
the bigger the wave gets,
the more I feel . . .
swept up.
Kate
She’s so focused,
liquid and tall.
It’s fun to watch her,
fun to watch the whole team,
but especially Tam.
And I actually like
that she hasn’t found me
in the stands yet.
That way I can’t mess her up—
Oh!
Hi!
Hi!
You’re doing great!
Watch out!
Haha!
Oops.
She found me.
See?
She just missed the ball
because of me.
Extra oops.
See?
It makes me smile,
because she noticed me.
Sorry,
(not sorry)
rest of the team.
TAM
It’s just me and the ball,
the ball and me,
and the team
of course,
always the team.
But they know the ball and I,
we go way back,
best friends
connected
yin and yang.
The ball knows me
and I know the ball,
watching it fall
through the air,
connecting
leather
to skin:
BAM
over the net.
I am in the zone
until I hear a squeal,
a high-pitched cheer
that jolts
a lightning bolt
through my belly
and my eyes leave the court
and there she is
ponytail bright
under the lights
her squeal echoing in my ears
and I miss the point.
I miss the point!
The ball whizzes over my head,
just like that—
and what in the world just happened?
I don’t get distracted.
Kate
I want to describe how she moves
but I can’t find the words.
It’s like she knows where to go
before the ball knows where to go.
Her arms slice the air, so smooth,
finding the spot where the ball flies
and WHAM, whacking it sky high.
How?
How is she so quick?
Maybe she feels waves in the air,
ripples and trickles
caused by the flying ball.
Maybe she’s a miracle of nature.
Her head whips around,
she catches my eye in the crowd
slams the ball
scores a point
finds me again
and winks.
TAM
Mom
Frankie
Roxy
Levi
Kate
all waiting for me
after the game.
All smiling,
chatting,
congratulating,
but I just want them to go away.
Everyone except Kate.
Her cheeks are pink,
her ponytail bouncing,
I want to know more about
what she thinks,
if she had fun
tonight,
but Mom is chattering
and Levi is asking something
about joining chess club
and what
does that have to do with anything
right now
and we’re all walking to the parking lot,
and I wish I was old enough
to have my own car.
Kate
The lights are not very bright
in the parking lot.
Small halos fall,
little patches,
lighting up spots
next to a few of the cars.
Tam is bouncing,
energized,
talking about the game.