Stations of Life

by Chloe Spencer

  “I can’t read it.”

  “What do you mean you can’t…” Suddenly it clicked for June. “Oh. Oh? But wait…”

  “It’s too hard and it’s too long. I literally can’t read it. If I could, I would. But I can’t. So just let me design the poster board.”

  June stared, her expression softening. “Have you told Mr. Bernhower that you can’t read it?”

  “Why, so I can be held back a year?”

  “No, because maybe he’d be able to make an exception for you. But wait a minute, I don’t understand. You can’t read?”

  “I can read some things. Like math problems. Short sentences. Comic books. But long books like this, with no pictures and lots of words? No. The words and paragraphs all blend together.”

  “I think you have a learning disability.”

  Eloise snorted. “Bitch.”

  “No, seriously, isn’t that dyslexia? When words just stop making sense?”

  “Hell if I know. All I know is I can’t read, and you have a problem with me.” Eloise shook her head.

  “Hey,” June snapped, “I’m not the bully here. I didn’t wreck your crap, did I?”

  “No, I mean you think you’re better than me,” Eloise retorted. “You always think you’re so much smarter than the rest of us.”

  “Yeah? Well, you act like you’re cooler than the rest of us. The way you talk, act, dress. The way your friends call you ‘Ease’ instead of ‘Eloise.’ It’s so…”

  “What?”

  “Facking…stupid.”

  Eloise’s eyebrows arched in surprise. June released an embarrassed yelp and covered her mouth. Back then I rarely ever swore. If I did, I would be immediately grounded. But in that moment, Eloise and June exchanged a glance and they burst into laughter.

  “I can’t believe you said ‘fuck.’”

  “I didn’t! I said fricking, fricking!”

  “You definitely said ‘fuck,’” she said, throwing back her head and laughing. “But you say it in the weirdest way. Like there’s an a in there somewhere.”

  “Fack.”

  “Fuuuuck.”

  “Fack!”

  “You’re still not saying it right,” she cried out, laughing until tears streamed from her eyes. “Juniper, what the hell?”

  “Fack,” June said, giggling.

  “Oh my God, are you doing this on purpose?” Eloise shook her head.

  Just then Bernhower came through the doorway. He smiled at them.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Oh just…Sam’s parents. They’re just…silly.” June fumbled for an explanation, and Eloise struggled to hold back laughter.

  Confusion flashed across Mr. Bernhower’s face, but then his eyes rolled up to the ceiling. He nodded, seriously considering this.

  “I guess they are funny. Letting their fourteen-year-old son run around in the woods on his own.”

  I squeezed Young June’s shoulder. I understood why she brought me here. This was the day that Eloise and I became friends. And after that day, we were inseparable. Every afternoon for the rest of that spring, I spent time with Eloise after school, teaching her how to read. We worked on that project together, and Eloise designed an incredible poster board. I learned that like me, Eloise loved to draw and do other arts and crafts. We bonded by dreaming up ideas for movies and comics together.

  “Okay, we’ve spent enough time here. We have another place we have to go.” Young June tugged on the sleeve of my shirt.

  I stared back at my younger, happier self. At a younger, happier Eloise. The one who made me laugh, told me ridiculous stories, and taught me how to draw a human hand. For some reason, I didn’t want to say goodbye to her. But that’s strange, right? This wasn’t the Eloise I knew now. This was an Eloise I left behind.

  And Mr. Bernhower. Smiling and offering helpful advice as he graded papers. This was the man who taught me to believe in myself. The teacher who listened to me cry when I told him about how hard my dad was on me. He was the person who believed in me when I didn’t have faith in myself.

  God, I would give anything for him to still be alive. Anything.

  “Goodbye, Mr. Bernhower. I hope it’s nice where you are,” I whispered.

  But he couldn’t hear me. He smiled and kept grading papers. My hands shook and I resisted the urge to cry. I stared intensely at him, hoping his image would burn into memory. This was how I always wanted to remember him. Happiest when with his students.

  Young June grabbed my hand and slowly pulled me out of the classroom. Panic rose in the back of my throat, but I did not struggle. I wanted to go back. I wanted to be in that space forever. When I felt safe, when I felt excited for the days to come, instead of paralyzed by the anxiety of everyday life. My throat closed in on itself, and the tears spilled.

  “He meant a lot to us,” Young June murmured, her voice reassuring. “And he knows.”

  “I’m sorry, I just…” I sobbed.

  “He knows. Believe me, he knows.”

  * * * *

  Young June led me out of the school. I was inconsolable and continued to cry as she ushered me onto the train again. Young June rubbed a circle on my back, trying to comfort me. As the doors closed and the train started moving again, I tried to wipe my tears away.

  “Is this when the dream ends?” I asked her. “Please tell me that this is where the dream ends.”

  She smiled sadly. “We have a few more stops I’d like to make.”

  “I don’t know why you’re showing me all of this. I don’t get what the point is.” I released my hair from its ponytail, running my fingers through it to soothe my anxiety.

  “Well, you’re going to have to figure it out.”

  “So, what are you supposed to be? My spiritual guide?”

  “I guess you could say that, sure.”

  I shook my head and turned to look out the window. For the most part, I could only see fog, but occasionally I saw various little “islands,” floating in the nothingness, each holding various objects from my life. On one of them, I saw a massive version of the corsage Eloise got me for prom. Another had the God-awful turquoise dress I wore to my brother’s first wedding. I saw my first car, a yellow Toyota Corolla, teetering on the edge of its island, threatening to fall into the fog. This whole place resembled some sort of creepy, depressing museum—which I could only watch from behind the foggy windows as the train slowly drifted through.

  * * * *

  I was unsure of how much time passed. In that place, time seemed disjointed. But eventually, the train rolled to a stop outside a two-story brown rambler, which I recognized immediately. This was Eloise’s childhood home. The doors opened, and Young June led me over to the front yard. In this version of Eloise’s home, the tire swing was still standing. I could see it swaying back and forth in the breeze. The flower beds were filled with peonies and lavender.

  Eloise’s mother had taken off when she was five years old. Her father, a professional burglar, had a few stints in jail. Eloise told me that she’d spent time in various foster homes as a young kid. In the fourth grade, she wound up living with her aunt Lucy, who had finally gained financial stability. Lucy was forever young, hated her job, and enjoyed volunteering at animal shelters over the weekends. She filled her home with various foster dogs. When we were in high school, her dad had finished his sentence, and moved in with them. For a scary, tattooed ex-con, he was a nice guy, and I really liked him. Zach liked to lend me old CDs of various eighties and nineties rockers. He also loved to bake cookies, oddly enough. When we first told Zach and Lucy that we were dating, they were over the moon—apparently, they had seen our romance blossoming before we had.

  “Where are we?” I asked Young June. “I mean, us? Where is young us?”

  “Just wait a minute.”

  The front door opened and I saw a version of myself sprint from the house. June’s face was blotchy-red from tears. Eloise chased after her.

  “Juniper! June, stop!”
<
br />   In high school, Eloise was a star athlete who participated in track and softball. I may have been a soccer player, but I was never a good runner. It was no surprise to me that she caught up to June instantly. In my head I tried to figure out how old this version of myself was. Instead of her hair being completely blue, only the ends of it were. I figured she was fifteen, maybe sixteen?

  June wrestled with Eloise and tried to break free, but Eloise wouldn’t let her. She was much taller and stronger than the shrimpy kid I’d been in high school.

  “Let’s calm down. Let’s just calm down for a minute,” Eloise murmured, urging her to sit on the grass.

  “I really don’t want to. I’m sorry. I’m fine. Just let me go home.”

  Eloise shook her head and sat down on the grass, pulling June down with her. The two sat cross legged across from each other in the middle of the yard. It was then that I finally recognized this scene. This was the day that I first kissed Eloise. We had been dancing to some sort of lovesick, croony pop song in her room. At first the slow dancing was a joke, but I had taken things further by kissing her. Stunned, she had stared at me for two minutes before I finally burst into tears and tried to leave. I thought that I would run right out that door, and that our friendship would be over. But she wouldn’t let me go.

  “June, I’m not mad at you,” Eloise said. “Okay? I’m not mad at you for kissing me. If I was mad, I would have slapped you.”

  This didn’t reassure my angsty teenage self. June shook her head and wiped tears from her eyes. She didn’t say anything. Eloise reached across and took her hand. She squeezed it gently.

  “You’re gay, right?”

  “Wait a minute, you knew I was gay?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “What, was it that obvious?”

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  “No, I mean, I only recently realized this was the case.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, when Charlie asked you to homecoming, you turned him down.”

  June wrinkled her nose. “So? That doesn’t mean that I’m gay. That just means that I didn’t want to go to the dance with Charlie.”

  “But Charlie is one of your best friends!”

  “Exactly. We’re just friends.”

  Eloise rolled her eyes. “Look, I don’t know for sure how I know, okay? There have been a lot of other little hints.”

  “Like what?”

  “The fact that you get me a candygram for every Valentine’s Day. You think it’s anonymous, but I know that’s your handwriting. You do that weird thing where you double cross your T’s.”

  June’s cheeks blushed a furious shade of red. “What?! You know about that?”

  “Uh, duh. At first I thought you were being funny and pulling a prank. But that’s not something you would do. And you never came clean about it, so…I thought you were doing it for real.”

  “Oh my God. Oh my God.” June buried her face in her hands.

  “Would you calm down, June? I’m not mad at you! I actually think that…I’d want to give this a try.”

  “What?!”

  “Yeah,” Eloise said, and she was as bright and red as a beet in the summer sun. She tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “I think I’ve always…liked you too.”

  June sputtered, flabbergasted with this information. She laughed in disbelief, and Eloise smiled back.

  “No way.”

  “Yeah. I’m like ninety-five percent sure I’m in love with you.”

  “Pfft. No way. You wouldn’t be interested in someone like me.”

  I understood June’s incredulousness. In high school I had such low self-esteem. My parents were going through a divorce, and my mom moved in with her new boyfriend, a Portuguese man who was only five years older than I was. School was getting harder—I could barely manage to keep up with my pre-calc and chem classes. On top of that, I was gaining weight, and I could never figure out how to apply makeup. Compared to me, Eloise was glamorous, confident, and talented. Everything I wanted to be and everything I loved about her.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Eloise grinned, propping her chin up on her fist. “There’s no one else that I would spend time with, June-bug.”

  “What did you just call me?”

  “June-bug. We’re dating now, so I’m going to give you a pet name. And that one is really obnoxious, so it’s gonna stick.”

  “We’re dating now?”

  “You like me and I like you. I think this is simple enough.”

  June shook her head. “No, it’s not that simple. Being gay sucks. Being an openly gay couple in high school? That’s even worse.”

  “Are you worried about what other people think?”

  “Yes,” June said, her voice hoarse. “Of course I’m worried about what other people will think. I’m worried about you getting hurt. I’m worried about telling my dad and how he’ll react. I’m worried about people trying to separate us. None of this is easy.”

  Eloise’s expression softened. She nodded, biting her lip. “I know. But I also think that if we don’t try, then we’re going to regret it. We can’t hide who we are. Especially you. You wear your heart on your sleeve.”

  “What?”

  “You act like you’re so tough when things get hard. But I know that’s not true,” Eloise whispered. “I’ve known you long enough. I want us to try to be happy together, rather than quit before it starts.”

  “You think we could be happy?”

  “I think we’re pretty happy already, don’t you think?” Eloise smiled.

  June blinked repeatedly, as if stunned by how everything was working out in her favor. Then she nodded, smiling. Eloise leaned forward to try to kiss her, but she recoiled in surprise.

  “Not on the lawn,” June shout-whispered, giggling.

  “Then let’s go back inside.”

  June squeezed Eloise’s hand. The two of them wandered back into the house. I was so fixated on this entire scene that I hadn’t even noticed Young June, who had been smiling up at me.

  “Isn’t that awesome?” Young June said, pointing towards the closed front door.

  “What?”

  “We spent so long, y’know. Pining after her. Sure that she would never return our feelings. But look at what happened! It’s like a fairytale. We ended up together. And in our wildest dreams, we never imagined that would happen.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Well…sure. It was like a fairytale at the time. It was wonderful.”

  “It still is wonderful.”

  I sighed, turning back to Young June. Was I seriously getting lectured by a fourteen-year-old on my relationship?

  “Look, June,” I said, slowly trying to find the words. “Things change. People change. I was…happy with Eloise for a long time. I’ll always treasure what time we spent together. But…that’s not the case anymore.”

  Young June frowned, her nose wrinkling in distaste. “Are you sure that you’re not just pitching a fit?”

  “Excuse you?”

  “Look at how you acted right there.” She pointed towards the spot on the ground, where June had been sitting with Eloise. “You were all fussy and upset for no reason. You weren’t talking to her. She had to pry your answers out of you. You’ve always been like this. We’ve always been like this. But at least back then, we were willing to talk about it.”

  “You’re not seriously saying that I’m the one with the communication problem?”

  “That is exactly what I’m saying.”

  I scoffed, shaking my head. “Is that what this is all about? This is about teaching me a lesson?”

  “No. It’s supposed to remind you of all the things you’ve forgotten.”

  “Look,” I snapped, “you’re like, an eighth grader, so maybe you don’t understand, but it’s a bit naive to say that all your relationship problems can be solved with communication.”

  “Well, you’ve stopped communicating,” Young June retorted, rolling her eyes, “s
o what would you know about what it takes to save a relationship? But go ahead, June. Get angrier. That seems to resolve a lot of your problems, right?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, you don’t?” She pointed towards the open doors of the train. “Then get your ass back on that train. I’m not finished with you yet.”

  Bristling with anger, I went back inside the train and sat down in a huff, crossing my arms.

  “It’s not like I can go anywhere else when you’re holding me hostage like this,” I snapped at her as she entered the train.

  The doors closed behind her. Young June looked at me with great disappointment. She grasped the pole and leaned against it. She sighed, shaking her head. As the train started to move, she gripped the pole tighter.

  “You’re ruining my life,” she said quietly. “What other choices are you giving me?”

  “Ruining your life? Your life hasn’t even started yet. You’re permanently trapped in the body and mind of an eighth grader.”

  “You can attack me all you want. I don’t care. You’re just as insecure as you’ve always been.” She turned to look out the window. “That’s your—well, our problem. One of many.” She glanced back over at me. “Still, I can’t believe that you would actually stoop so low and blame Eloise for everything that goes wrong in your life.”

  “I don’t blame her for everything going wrong in my life. Who said that?”

  “Every time she makes a mistake, you hold it against her. I get that it’s frustrating when someone makes the same mistake over and over again, but sometimes you have to do that to learn. It’s like you hold her to a higher standard than yourself. And that’s not fair—worse, it’s cruel to do that to a woman who loves you unconditionally.”

  “You’re forgetting a lot of things. She nearly burned down the apartment. She overcomplicates virtually every situation. She keeps secrets from me—like the fact that she’s had enough money to pay off her debt for six months.”

  Without warning, the train rattled aggressively. It swerved from side to side on its invisible track, sliding me from one edge of the row of seats to the other. I looked up, and I could see the rage surfacing in June’s eyes.