One day Nessa forgot her lunch at home and when she walked out of class, instead of taking a left to go upstairs to the art hallway where she usually ate, she took a right out the back doors, in the direction of the Ledge.
Tanya was sitting on one of the benches, squished between two other girls. All six of their legs dangled, slender and bare, sandals hanging off their feet. A boy was telling them a story and Tanya was laughing, her mouth open wide. She looked happy, Nessa thought.
When Nessa approached she saw Tanya’s eyes flicker in her direction before quickly looking back at the boy.
As she broke the invisible border, crossing from outside the Ledge to inside it, the girls beside Tanya glanced over. They regarded Nessa with a mix of annoyance and apathy, the way someone might eye a hungry bird loitering at a picnic.
The boy was loudly telling his story, throwing his hands around, fading out only when he realized the girls’ attention had turned elsewhere. “Sorry,” Nessa said to the boy, who said nothing in response. Then she looked at Tanya—her sister’s smile was still pasted on her face.
“What’s up,” Tanya said, her voice thin and bored.
“I forgot my lunch and my wallet,” Nessa said. “Do you have any money?”
Tanya patted her front pockets with her hands and then shrugged, shaking her head.
Nessa looked at her and realized she felt scared.
“I don’t,” Tanya said loudly, as though Nessa hadn’t understood. She turned around, her face burning.
“Who’s that?” someone asked as she walked away.
“My sister.”
“That’s your sister?”
Tanya must have nodded because Nessa didn’t hear her response and she didn’t want to turn around to see Tanya’s expression.
* * *
—
THAT NIGHT NESSA AND TANYA and Lorraine ate dinner in the living room in front of the TV. On the screen a pretty woman on a reality television show spoke in an emphatic voice. “I want someone I can do the little things with.” The woman’s teeth were huge and white, perfectly square. She wore a pink bikini. “Grocery shopping, making dinner. Watching TV. Walking my dog, Munchkin.” She gazed into the camera. “I deserve love.” She announced it with such conviction that Nessa wondered, Were there people who didn’t?
Tanya and her mother had their feet up on the coffee table, Tanya’s foot grazing Lorraine’s ankle. A take-out container sat balanced on her sister’s stomach, rising and falling with her breath. Her face and arms were flushed, and she had that ruffled look about her that Nessa thought must be sex.
“Can we change the channel?” Nessa asked.
Neither one of them responded. On the screen another woman sniffled. “This is so much harder than I thought it would be,” she said. “When I see him with the other girls it destroys me. It’s the first week where I think I might be going home.” She had indelicate features, hair straightened to death. The woman was right, Nessa thought. She would be going home. If not tonight, then soon.
“Can we please change the channel.”
Tanya threw Nessa a look. “Chill out.”
“Do you actually like this shit?”
Tanya frowned at the screen and Lorraine typed something into her phone, smiling from the corner of her mouth.
Nessa stood. “I’m going up.”
“Good night, honey,” Lorraine called after her, her voice distracted.
* * *
—
NESSA WAS ALMOST at the top of the stairs when she heard the slap of bare feet on wood, the rhythm of Tanya’s breath. When she turned around, Tanya was behind her, reaching, a wicked expression on her face. Nessa jumped away, but Tanya grabbed her ankles fast and squeezed.
“Tanya!” Nessa yelled, and her sister’s grasp tightened. Her fingers were working their way up Nessa’s legs, to her thighs and butt, kneading her flesh like dough. It tickled and Nessa’s legs buckled, her muscles suddenly useless. She attempted the word stop, but she was laughing too hard, jerking and flailing under Tanya’s hands. The Wild Thing was strong, and it was no longer a fleeting sensation, the way it always was on the stairs. It was potent. Her entire body was the Wild Thing. She continued to laugh, tears pricking her eyes. “Stop!” she shouted, conjuring enough strength to yank one of her legs away.
Tanya’s eyes shone and she lunged for Nessa’s free ankle.
“Stop!” Nessa cried again, but Tanya only held on tighter, her fingers hot and angry on Nessa’s leg. With her free foot, Nessa tried to push her away.
“Scared?” Tanya said, a millisecond before Nessa kicked her, hard, in the chest. Tanya’s arms flailed out for balance, and for several seconds she hung there, suspended—her feet solidly on the step, and the rest of her body floating.
The rest was fast. A backwards somersault—limbs everywhere, the white of her neck, the flash of her eyes. There was a terrible cracking sound. Tanya landed on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.
Nessa raced down.
Ten steps.
Nine steps.
Eight steps closer.
She was waiting for Tanya’s cry. An enraged Fuck you. But Tanya was silent, her body a noiseless puddle of arms and legs. When Nessa saw the blood, she went hot. It was dark, almost black, growing in girth beneath her sister’s head.
Lorraine appeared in the hallway. She made a sound, something between a scream and a dry heave. “Call 911,” her mother said in a voice that wasn’t hers, and Nessa nodded, finding her way from the hallway to the kitchen. The numbers swam in front of her. She blinked fast, trying to clear her vision. Her fingers were thick and heavy as she dialed; her hands themselves felt huge, like the foam hands they give out at sports games.
For an unbelievably long time the phone rang before a woman’s voice, calm, appeared in Nessa’s ear. “Nine one one,” she said. “Emergency.”
“My sister fell,” Nessa said, lips moving clumsily. “We need an ambulance.”
“Bring me the phone, Nessa,” Lorraine yelled from the hallway.
Nessa ran to her mother with the phone. Lorraine had taken off her shirt and was holding it under Tanya’s head, which lay like an object in her mother’s lap. Lorraine’s hands were covered in blood and there were streaks of it on her cheeks and neck. Nessa began to shake. Lorraine took the phone and told Nessa to get her a clean towel, which she did, breathlessly. Then she watched as Lorraine wrapped Tanya’s head with the towel, saying, Uh-huh, uh-huh, into the phone.
That was when Nessa started making promises to God. She would never eat another cookie. She would never think about that disgusting porn while she masturbated. She would never masturbate. She would spend the rest of her life making it up to Tanya. She’d spend the rest of her life keeping her sister safe.
A few minutes later they heard the ambulances approaching, far-off wails of sirens getting closer and closer, until they were right outside the house. Nessa ran to the front door and opened it, and men in electric-yellow uniforms ran through the doorway.
* * *
—
TANYA WAS GETTING A CAT SCAN when her father showed up, Simone a few steps behind him. He surveyed the emergency room, his eyes darting around until they found Nessa’s. He was wearing a suit and tie and Simone was done up in a black dress, her hair pulled back.
Her father brought the smell of outside, of an elegant restaurant. He hugged Nessa, kissing her roughly on the forehead. Then he hugged Lorraine and that was when Lorraine broke down. She buried her face in Jonathan’s neck and he put his hand on her hair and held her. When she pulled back, her face was streaked with tears and makeup. She had smudges of blood all over her. “I was so scared,” she said to him. “She wasn’t moving. I couldn’t wake her up.” Her eyes were moving left and right, up and down, searching his face for something.
“Where is she?” he asked. “
Is she still unconscious?”
“She woke up in the ambulance. They took her in for scans. Oh my God, Jon, it was awful. I’ve never seen anything so awful.”
“It’s okay,” her father said. “It’s going to be okay. You got her here, Lorrie. That’s all that matters.” He hugged her mother again and pulled Nessa in, too. They hugged, the three of them, and Nessa breathed in the scent of her mother and father together, and wondered if they could smell her, too—her guilt and her shame and everything else disgusting about her.
When they detangled themselves Nessa glanced at Simone, who was watching from a few feet away. Lorraine looked at her, too, and Simone took a step forward. “I’m so sorry,” she said, mostly to Lorraine. “I can’t even imagine how frightened you must be.”
Lorraine nodded, wiping her eyes.
“Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Something to eat?”
“No,” Lorraine said. “But maybe Nessa would like something?”
All three of them looked at Nessa. She nodded, so that her mother and father might have some time alone.
* * *
—
THE HOSPITAL CAFETERIA was bright and familiar and Nessa had the feeling she’d been there before, though she had no memory of having been. There was a mural on the far wall, an underwater scene with colorful fish and a treasure chest, an anchor plunging from the bottom of a ship.
She and Simone stood in line together. “What would you like?” Simone asked.
Nessa shrugged, glancing at the salads and soups, the baskets of apples and bruised bananas, the potato chips and candy and cookies, the oversized muffins in saran wrap.
She wasn’t hungry at all, but she picked up a carton of chocolate milk, the kind they used to get with their lunches in elementary school.
“That’s all you want?” Simone asked, and Nessa nodded. Simone took a bag of mini chocolate chip cookies from the counter. “How about we share?” she said. “Cookies and milk?”
“Okay,” Nessa said.
Simone paid and they sat at a table near the windows. Outside there was a small courtyard, a few benches, and a manicured square of grass. It was nighttime, but with all the lights of the hospital, the courtyard looked as though it could still be day.
Simone opened the bag of cookies and shook them out onto a napkin. She ate one, chewing slowly, and then she pushed the napkin toward Nessa.
Nessa dunked a cookie in milk and took a bite. She put the other half of the cookie down and leaned back in her chair.
“How are you doing, Nessa? It must have been awful to see Tanya like that.”
Simone was watching Nessa, but Nessa pretended not to notice. She didn’t want to know what Simone was thinking about her. She no longer thought that Simone only liked her because of her father, but Nessa also felt certain that Simone spent far less time thinking about her than Nessa spent thinking about Simone.
“Nessa,” Simone said, and when she looked at her stepmother, Nessa was surprised to see that Simone’s eyes were wet, that her mouth was trembling a little. “Are you alright, honey?”
“I kicked her,” Nessa said.
Simone looked back, wide-eyed.
“I kicked her down the stairs. It was my fault.” Nessa put her head on the table and began to weep. She heard the sound of Simone pushing her chair back and then she felt Simone’s arms around her. Simone held her, stroking her hair.
“It’s alright,” she whispered into Nessa’s hair. “It was an accident,” Simone said. “She’s going to be fine.” Nessa nodded into Simone’s neck and then she lifted her arms. They held on to one another tightly.
2003
Tanya needed twelve stitches on the back of her head. The doctors told her that she had suffered a concussion, but other than that, she was going to be alright. They gave her medicine for the pain and every once in a while a nurse came in to check her vitals and have her count backwards from one hundred. They decided to keep her overnight just to be cautious.
Her family gathered around her bed, her mother and father on one side, Nessa on the other. Tanya didn’t realize until later that Simone was waiting outside. It was strange, waking up, surrounded by the family she’d missed for so many years.
“How’re you feeling, Tee?” Nessa asked.
“Tired,” Tanya said. She didn’t know how she could tell them she felt happy.
“Can you try to sleep, honey?” asked Lorraine.
“I don’t know,” Tanya said. “I kind of want to stay awake for a little.”
“Does it hurt?” asked Nessa.
Tanya shook her head and then she started to cry.
“Sweetie.” Her mother leaned over to hold Tanya’s hand. “Oh, honey, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Then her father started to sing the moon song.
Oh, Mr. Moon, Moon, Mr. Silver Moon, won’t you please shine down on me.
Tanya rolled her eyes, but that was enough to make Lorraine and Nessa start singing, too.
Oh, Mr. Moon, Moon, Mr. Silver Moon, hiding behind that tree.
There stands a man with a big shotgun, ready to shoot if you start to run.
So, Mr. Moon, Moon, Mr. Silver Moon, won’t you please shine down on,
Talk about your shining, won’t you please shine down on me.
They finished and the hospital room filled with silence again. All four of them smiled. It felt good and sad. The easy way they fell back into being a family, and the easy way they’d fall back out.
Her father left shortly after. He hugged all of them, giving Tanya a few kisses on her forehead and cheek. “I’ll be back to see you in the morning, okay, Tee?”
Then Lorraine walked him out, leaving Tanya alone with her sister.
“Can I lie down with you?” Nessa asked, and Tanya nodded. Nessa crawled into bed, squishing herself into the space between Tanya and the railing. “I’m sorry, Tee,” she said.
“Me too,” Tanya said. “I’m sorry, too.”
“I’m the older sister. I’m supposed to protect you, not hurt you.”
Tanya knew what she was talking about. It had only been two months since it happened, but now, in the hospital room, surrounded by her family and doctors, all of that seemed far away, like a nightmare that Tanya could barely remember. “You do protect me,” she said.
“No,” Nessa said. “I didn’t.”
The door opened then and one of the nurses, Kathy, came in, and Tanya was relieved to stop the conversation.
Kathy smiled when she saw the girls curled up in bed. “What a nice sister you have, Tanya,” she said. “I’m going to prop you up a little bit now, okay?” Kathy pressed a button and the upper half of the bed rose to a forty-five-degree angle, Tanya and Nessa rising with it. “Now I want you to follow my finger. Keep your head nice and still.” She moved her finger to the right and to the left, then up and down, and Tanya followed with her eyes.
“Perfect,” Kathy said. “Now with your hand I want you to push back on mine.” She lifted her hand out in front of Tanya and Tanya pushed. “Good, and now the other one.”
Then Kathy looked in Tanya’s eyes with a light and took her blood pressure, nodding. Good, she kept saying, and Tanya started to believe, then, that things were really going to be alright.
“Do you girls want the bed reclined again?” Kathy asked after she was done.
Tanya nodded.
“Okay. Ring if you need anything.” Then Kathy left.
Tanya closed her eyes.
“Do you want to try to sleep?” Nessa asked.
Tanya nodded, and Nessa pulled up the blanket to cover them both.
“Will you wake me up in fifteen minutes to make sure I’m not dead?” Tanya asked, closing her eyes.
“Sure,” Nessa said.
“Thanks.”
Tanya dozed o
ff then, and Nessa lay beside her, one of her hands on her sister’s shoulder to monitor her breathing. When fifteen minutes passed, Nessa gently shook her shoulder.
“It’s okay,” Tanya said, keeping her eyes closed. “I’m still alive.”
III.
On Monday morning, the courthouse is busier than it was on Friday. Nessa and Tanya and Lorraine find a bench near the back of courtroom 1. Each time the door opens, they turn and look, but it’s never Jesse. Tanya instructs Lorraine to inhale deeply through her nose and exhale slowly through her mouth.
At exactly ten a.m., a court guard instructs everybody to rise and the judge walks in, the same one from Friday.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” Lorraine whispers suddenly, and Tanya glares at her. “Hurry,” she says.
The judge calls one case, another two-party hearing for a restraining order, before calling Lorraine Bloom and Jesse Wright up front.
“Go find her,” Tanya hisses to Nessa, and then she stands. “Your Honor, my mother, Lorraine Bloom, is here, but she’s in the restroom.” Tanya’s voice is unwavering.
“Fine,” the judge says. “We’ll come back to this one at the end.”
Nessa doesn’t see her mother in the lobby. She goes to the women’s restroom and checks under the stalls for Lorraine’s shoes. “Mom?” she says. “Lorraine?” she tries. No one answers.
Outside, the day has gotten warm and the sun surges hot against Nessa’s dress. When she finally spots her mother, it’s across the Mystic Valley Parkway, in a little parking lot, and Lorraine is standing with Jesse. Jesse is in a suit and tie, his hair wild in the breeze. He’s talking and gesticulating, using up all the air around him, and Lorraine is listening, looking up at him.
Nessa makes a run for it, sprinting across the busy parkway, so that cars have to slam on their brakes to keep from hitting her. Someone curses loudly out their window. It’s Jesse who sees Nessa first. He stops talking to stare in her direction. Then her mother turns around, following his gaze.
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