Resilient

by Patricia Vanasse

  “I’ve got to say SpongeBob. No similarities there, though.” He smiles and lies back down, inspecting the stars. “Do you believe there’s life out there besides us?”

  That question has been on my mind for years, but I never had to answer it until now. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

  “You hope so?” His brows shoots up, “Wouldn’t you be afraid if aliens really existed?” He sounds sincerely curious.

  “No, I don’t think they would be the monsters Hollywood makes us believe. I think they would be just like...”

  “Us?”

  “Yeah, like us. How about you?”

  He nods, “I agree with you.”

  We fall into silence for a little while before his next question. It would be too pretentious of me to believe humans are the only ones to live in a universe so much bigger than we know. There are so many places we haven’t even begun to discover yet. In any case, other life forms could be the explanation to all of my inhuman abilities.

  “What do you like most about yourself?” he asks.

  My mind wanders; I’m not sure what my qualities are, really, but I think of something to say. “I’m stubborn.”

  “And that’s a quality?”

  “Yes. I mean, it keeps me from giving up when things gets rough.”

  He turns to look at me, probably wondering what could be so rough in my life. He doesn’t know that I don’t have everything, I don’t have what I want the most: answers to what I am.

  “What do you dislike the most about yourself?” I ask. His lips twitch and he looks down.

  “I dislike my hair,” he says. He knows I didn’t mean physically; he’s avoiding his personality. I don’t push it, though.

  “So you like blond better than brunette? You can always change your hair color,” I say and he smiles.

  “I like brunette better.” He shifts his body again, fixing his eyes on mine. My stare slowly traces his face, stopping at his lips—I sit up.

  “We really should go now.” I avert my eyes.

  “Sure.” He stands, offering a hand to help me up. Something in his posture says he’s disappointed.

  * * *

  On our way home, he asks about my life back in New York and why we moved here. I tell him that my parents wanted to come back to the West Coast and take it easier. They were too busy in the city and didn’t have enough time for family, which is true. I just leave off the main reason why we left.

  He tells me stories of growing up on the island and how he likes living in a small town. “Seattle is only an hour away if you ever crave the big city,” he assures me.

  “I think I’m good.”

  We pull into my driveway and he cuts the engine. “How does around one sound for tomorrow’s training?”

  “Sounds great.” I open the car door, feeling awkward and wanting to get away from the lingering urge to kiss him. “Meet me at the barn.”

  “Sweet dreams, Livia!” He calls out as I stride away.

  8 Adam

  I wake up right after eleven. I want to sleep more, but there is too much damn noise in this house. I get out of bed and head to the bathroom.

  “Oh God!” I yell, startled at the scene in front of me. Now I can’t erase the picture of my old, fat Aunt Judy sitting on my toilet. I hurry my apologies and close the door.

  “No problem, Adam, just knock next time!” Aunt Judy snaps.

  I hurry back in my bedroom, muttering and shuddering at the mental image, “I didn’t know I needed to knock on my own bathroom door”. I grab clothes out of my closet and go use my brothers’ bathroom. As I’m walking up the stairs, I can see lots of cars parked in front of the house. Right. It’s the last Sunday of the month. That’s when Mom’s friends come over for their monthly potluck lunch. That’s why all that noise was coming from the patio, right next to my bedroom. That’s why I’m going to be hopelessly cranky this morning.

  I shower and get myself ready to meet Livia. Just the thought of it makes me smile. I had a good time with her last night, and I couldn’t stop thinking about her when I got home. When we had left the party, I knew Kyle wasn’t the only one angry with me; Livia was pretty angry, herself. I really thought I had screwed up any chance I may have had with her. But then, when we were lying on the grass watching the moon, I felt her anger dissolving. She had stopped hating me for a precious moment.

  When I had looked at her, she was gazing at me with those pale blue eyes of hers. I noticed that she had replaced all that frustration with something else—I could swear I had seen desire. I thought about making a move, but for some reason, I couldn’t. I was nervous. I don’t recall being this nervous around a girl before.

  After my shower, I get Bader saddled up. “Want to go for a ride, buddy? We better take advantage of this weather while we can.” We head into the woods and my heart starts racing. The thought of seeing Livia gives me butterflies, which is not a good sign. I should not be feeling this way about someone whose every move toward me feels like rejection.

  Livia is not like girls I’m used to; she’s not shallow and flirty. She compared herself with Daria, of all people. She’s definitely different and I have no idea how to act around a girl like her. I want to get to know her better, and I hope she gives me the chance to.

  I get close to Livia’s house and I see Aphrodite standing outside of the barn with her saddle on. Livia must have her ready to go. But I look around and I don’t see Livia. I slide down from Bader and walk into the barn—there’s no one there. I walk to the main house and I knock on the back door. Through the glass, I see someone approaching.

  “Hi!” One of the twin boys opens the door.

  “Hi, I’m looking for Livia,” I say. The little boy calls out for his mom who comes out to the back door.

  Mrs. Berwick waves as she approaches us. “Livia went to the barn about an hour ago. She said she was meeting you for training lessons. She’s not down there?”

  “I thought she—”

  “I saw her taking the horse out for a ride earlier,” the brother says, cutting me off.

  I look back to the barn and I notice that Aphrodite is not tied up. She is just standing there, loose. Bad sign. I run back to the barn, leaving Mrs. Berwick and the boy to stare after me. I climb up on Bader and I head into the woods. If Livia took Aphrodite for a ride and the horse came back without her, it can only mean Livia is still out there somewhere. Really bad sign.

  My head is spinning and I’m beating myself up for not warning her about Aphrodite. I ride towards the lake where I think she could have gone. I call out for her, but I don’t get a response. My heartbeat quickens as I take a different route, heading up to the opposite shore of the lake. I take a loop around the entire perimeter, but I don’t see her anywhere. I head back to her house, taking yet another trail. As I round the last hill before her property comes into sight, I see her lying on the ground in a fetal position, hugging her leg.

  I jump off of Bader and run to her. “Are you all right?” I ask, kneeling beside her, my heart racing.

  “Aphrodite wouldn’t stop,” she says between moans. “When she did, I fell off and landed really hard on my foot. I think I broke my leg.”

  Her face is wet with tears. I loop her arms around my neck and slide one hand under her legs and the other behind her back.

  “I’m gonna carry you back to the house. Are you ready?”

  She nods. I hold her in my arms all the way home. As I approach the back door, her family crowds outside. Mr. Berwick runs towards us and I see the worry on his face.

  “How bad is she hurt?”

  “Her leg might be broken, and she’s in a lot of pain.”

  “Let’s put her in the car,” he urges. “We have to take her to hospital right now.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad, let’s just go get some X rays.” Livia tries to sound calm but she’s biting her bottom lip in an effort to contain the pain. Needless to say, Mr. Berwick and I end up driving her to Coupeville Hospital.

  I
called Dad ahead of time to let him know what is going on—he is working today, and he can warn the hospital that we are on the way.

  The ER nurses take Livia in right away. As Mr. Berwick walks in with her, practically attached to his daughter’s side, I sit in the waiting room. The sight of her lower leg made my stomach flip. It was already swollen, I could see the bruise spreading, and it was entirely my fault. I should’ve been working harder on Aphrodite. I should’ve asked Alo for help. I should have done a lot of things, but now Livia will be out of the saddle for months.

  I watch as the clock on the wall ticks and my mind whirls. Forty-five minutes feels like eternity.

  At some point, my dad walks into the waiting room. “Good news,” he greets me. “No surgery needed. But it’s going to take a while for her to heal. She suffered from a spiral fracture of the tibia. They just put a cast on her leg, and she’ll be in there for another hour or so.”

  “I’ll wait,” I say, rubbing my eyes with my hands.

  Dad sits next to me, his next words softer. “Hey, this was not your fault.”

  “I know, but…” I don’t know. I should have told her I was having problems with Aphrodite; I should have warned her.

  “Come on!” Dad gets on his feet “I’m gonna take you to see her.”

  Dreading it, I follow Dad down the hallway and we stop outside of her room. Mr. Berwick is there and ready with a pat on my shoulder. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come looking for her.”

  The smile I give him in return is full of guilt that I hope he can’t see.

  Inside, Livia is lying down with her right leg propped up and covered in a purple cast. “Hi,” I say and she gives me a flat smirk. “Purple looks good on you!” Her lips widen just a bit.

  She waves me closer. I take a seat on the edge of her bed. “I’m sorry,” I say, reaching for her hand as she looks into my eyes. My heartbeat races and I wonder if she notices the effect she has on me. I wonder if she’s feeling the same.

  “I should have waited for you.” She looks down and slightly shakes her head. “It’s not like I’ve never ridden before. I thought I could handle it.”

  “I should have warned you that it wasn’t safe for you to take Aphrodite out on your own.”

  “You did warn me.” She pulls her hand from mine. “They said I’ll have to use this cast for at least two months.”

  “Two months will go by fast. It could be way worse.”

  “I guess I have no choice,” she says, her eyes filled with tears. “Would you mind coming over sometimes to take Aphrodite for a ride? I would hate for her to be stuck in that barn until I’m better.” She looks up at me and a tear trickles down her face. I reach over and smear it away with my thumb.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her until you feel better.”

  She fixes her eyes on mine once again. Her gaze is remarkably intimidating, like she can see right through me.

  Just then, Mrs. Berwick walks in with her twin boys, knocking on the door as they enter. I stand up and step away from the bed to let Livia’s brothers have time with her. I gesture awkwardly, letting her know that I’m leaving. Her gaze follows me all the way out of the room.

  I walk down the hallway to Dad’s office, checking my phone. Kevin left a voicemail letting me know that he took care of Bader for me. I want to hang around the hospital longer, but I know when I’ve overstayed my welcome. When I reach Dad’s office the door is closed and I hear a loud male voice inside; it’s not Dad’s. I lean closer to the door; I feel anger swelling on the other side.

  “I want to see the medical report, and if you don’t give it to me, then who’s to say you’re not trying to hide something?” The man shouts.

  “What could I possibly be trying to hide?” There’s Dad’s voice. “The incident happened seventeen years ago. We don’t keep files for that long.”

  “Dr. Cooper, answer me this. Doesn’t it seem too convenient that your son, born with lung failure, not only miraculously survived but could breathe all on his own the next day, and somehow the strong and healthy boy I brought in here died of a rare lung condition? He was not even sick! He was here for a gunshot wound!”

  “I remember it very well. A gunshot wound to the thigh, and you didn’t want to file a report with the police.” My father’s tone is the same faintly accusing one he uses on me when he harasses me for spending too much time in the barn.

  “You’re not listening.” The man’s tone oozes desperation. “He has to know who he is. His life depends on it!”

  I wrest open the door, his words echoing in my ears. “What the hell is going on here?”

  Dad’s eyes go wide when he sees me. The other man looks at me, irritated. It’s the same guy who was shouting at Kim yesterday.

  “We’re having a private meeting here,” he says. I look from my dad to him and I don’t break eye contact until his anger dissipates to nothing. I watch as his legs tremble and he sits down on the chair behind him. He stares at me, his lips slightly parted, as if he’s in shock.

  I can’t be bothered with him, though, and I turn away. “Dad? Is everything okay?”

  “Adam.” Dad takes a deep breath. “What do you want?”

  “Uh, I—I need a ride home.” I look at him, apprehensive. “Do you need me to call security?”

  “No. Mr. Stevens was just leaving.”

  Mr. Stevens, who is still sitting and staring at me, nods. He pulls himself upright. “This isn’t over,” he says, shuffling out the door. He casts one last look at me over his shoulder and then shuts the door behind him.

  “Adam,” Dad’s voice is low and rough, “take my car. I still have work to do.”

  I look at Dad with amazement. I can’t believe he chooses to tell me nothing, not even after what was said in here.

  “I’ll get a cab, son. Go! I’ve had enough interruptions today.”

  I leave Dad’s office without saying goodbye.

  * * *

  I get home and Mom is setting the dinner table. I don’t really feel like eating, but I take my place at the table like everyone else.

  “So, how is she feeling?” Mom asks.

  “She’ll be fine,” I say. “Two months in a cast.”

  “How did that happen?” Mom raises her eyebrow at me. “I thought Aphrodite was doing well on her training.”

  “Aphrodite’s refusing to stop when told. I’ve been working on it, but her attitude has been inconsistent. That’s why she’s not fully trained yet.”

  “Well maybe we should have Alo get the job done.”

  “Mom!” Kevin says. “That wasn’t Adam’s fault.”

  “I didn’t say it was. I just think that Adam will have a lot on his plate with school starting next week. Alo could finish the job.”

  “Mom is right,” I grunt, not bothering to hide my irritation. “Alo will get it done since I obviously didn’t do the job well enough.” I get up and dash to my room.

  “Adam, come back here!” Mom shouts. I just keep on walking until I lock the bedroom door behind me. That’s my family for you. Twist the knife without ever raising a voice.

  Mom is not wrong, and that only irritates me more. I know Livia’s accident is my fault; I don’t need the implications.

  9 Livia

  It’s three o’clock in the morning and I need to pee, but there is no way I can walk to the bathroom by myself. If I move one inch, the pain shoots up all the way to my back. The meds must be wearing off. I pick up my phone from my nightstand and I dial Mom’s number.

  “Be right there,” Mom says, voice thick with sleep. In a second she is opening my bedroom door.

  “What is it? Are you feeling okay?”

  “I can’t seem to be able to get out of the bed by myself.”

  “Neither should you try. Here, let me help you.”

  She puts my arm around her shoulders and helps me walk to the bathroom. She waits to bring me back to bed, and when she does she’s more f
rantic than ever.

  “Does it hurt?” she frets. “I’ll go get some ibuprofen.”

  It does hurt, but I don’t want to complain or worry her more. I brought this on myself and I don’t want to make my parents feel bad for me. I especially don’t want Dad thinking that it’s his fault, since he was the one who bought Aphrodite—his guilt is already on a hair-trigger. I could see in Adam’s eyes that he blames himself and I don’t need anyone to feel worse than they already do. Their guilt pressing in on all sides is the last thing I need.

  Mom lays me back down on my bed and I close my eyes so she’ll feel it’s safe to leave. I don’t like her being around, reminding me that I’m the one causing her pain, or the reminder that the choices I make affect everyone around me.

  * * *

  I wake up to a knock on my bedroom door. “Come on in,” I say, wishing I could sleep some more. Dad opens the door, holding a breakfast tray.

  “Sorry to wake you up. I brought you some food along with your medications,” he says, putting the tray on my bed, filled with milk, two eggs with cheese, and toast. He gives me my meds and the glass of milk. I take the pills but I give him the food tray back.

  “I don’t want to be stuck in my room all day. I can come down and have breakfast with everyone.” Dad shakes his head, and I protest, “It doesn’t even hurt that bad anymore.”

  “I’ll tell you what. You eat your breakfast in here and you can come down for lunch. You need to rest as much as possible, and coming downstairs right now is an unnecessary effort.”

  “Deal.” I suppose I can wait if it makes him feel better.

  He leaves when he sees that I’m eating. I scarf it all down, even though I’m not hungry. I know my parents will feel better if they think my appetite hasn’t changed. As I set the tray aside, I notice that the pain in my leg has receded from deep in my bones to just an ache up in my shin. These meds must be strong.

  I’m able to go to the bathroom on my own as long as I keep my weight on my good leg. I brush my teeth, wash my face, and drag myself back to bed.