Over the Rainbow

by Brian Rowe

  “The dinosaurs. And the rapture, too. I’m sure God plucked people out of China, out of Switzerland. And Seattle, and Kansas. And Orlando I bet, too.”

  The color melted away from Frankie’s face. “You mean…”

  “Oh.” I lowered my head. “I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that.”

  He backed up against the hood of the car. “After all that’s happened, I didn’t even realize that my own family back home could be…” He moved his hands to his forehead, then down to his chest, like he was going to suffer a heart episode, too.

  “Hey, maybe they're still here,” I said. “You won't know until you call them.”

  “But you’re right, they're probably not. My mom. My sisters.” His eyes met mine. “They’re gone, aren’t they?”

  Elle rolled down the passenger window. “Are you guys okay? Mr. Balm wants to know.” The dog barked. “Uhh. And Judy, I guess, too.”

  Frankie lowered his head and started crying.

  “Be right there, Elle,” I said, and sat on the hood next to Frankie. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring this up.”

  He sniffled, wiped a tear away, and blew his nose into his giant t-shirt. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “Where are the car keys?”

  “What?” I opened up my right hand. “But I thought—”

  He took the keys. “The sooner we get to Seattle, the sooner I can find my dad, and get a hold of the rest of my family. I’ll get us there the fastest. I mean, look at you. You’re too short to even see over the steering wheel.”

  I crossed my arms. “Normally I’d punch you for saying that, but right now I actually agree with you.”

  We moved to our respective doors, but I stopped before he opened his. “And Frankie? One other thing.”

  “What?”

  “If you want us to get to Seattle soon, we’re gonna need to get off this freeway. There’s too many parked cars, and they’re so hard to see in the dark. It’ll take us a week to get there at this rate.”

  “Is there another direct way?”

  “I have no idea.” I opened the passenger door. “But there has to be.”

  “There you are,” Elle said, sitting upright, her legs pushed up against the glove compartment. Her afro was so massive it touched the car ceiling. “What were you doing?”

  “Here, scoot up,” I said. I planted my butt on the seat and brought Elle to my lap.

  I thought she would complain about the seating arrangement, but instead, she happily rested her back against my chest. I wrapped the seatbelt around both of us and clicked it into place. I motioned to Frankie to get the car started.

  “Mr. Balm?” I asked, looking back. “You all right?”

  “Yes. A little better, thanks.”

  “Are you positive you don’t want to go to a hospital? Because we can try to find a place to stop along the—”

  “No.” He latched onto my hand so hard I thought he might break it off. “Please don’t leave me.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said, and I glanced at Frankie. “We won’t.”

  Frankie turned on the ignition and pulled the car back onto the freeway. He had to swerve around three stalled cars almost immediately.

  “So if this wasn’t an alien invasion, Zippy, if this really was the rapture as you say it is, then all of these people were taken from their cars as they were driving?” Frankie asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “I know. It’s insane.”

  Elle looked up at me. “Did all these people go where my family went?”

  “That’s right, Elle.”

  “Is it a good place?”

  “I’d imagine so.” I hadn’t a clue of the definitive answer, but I kept a smile on my face, anyway. “I bet it’s a happy place.”

  “With music? And pancakes?”

  “Pancakes for sure.” I looked out the windshield, at a tipped over school bus, then returned my gaze to the seven-year-old. “Now Elle, quick question. Would you happen to know another way to get to Seattle besides this freeway?”

  She shrugged.

  “Damn it,” Frankie said. He peered out at all the dozens of stopped cars ahead. “This is going to take forever.”

  “We can check the map, though,” Elle said. She opened the glove compartment. A large US map tumbled against my feet.

  I kissed the girl on the cheek. “Elle, you’re a genius.”

  “That means you think I’m smart, right?” she asked, with a proud grin.

  “Very.”

  I opened up the map, and found the area between Portland and Seattle.

  “Where are we now?” I asked Frankie.

  “Hell if I know.”

  “Gee, you’re a big help.”

  Elle pointed to the right of the freeway. “Is that a sign over there?”

  “Yes, I see it.” I squinted my eyes to make out the small words on the sign. It was illuminated in all the darkness with only one small light. “It says, Castle Rock.”

  I pushed my index finger up the map, from Portland to the I-5 freeway. We had already passed through Woodland, Kalama, Kelso. The next town up was Ryderwood. I experimented with different routes that took us off the freeway but that still brought us to northern Washington.

  “Find something?” Frankie asked.

  “I think so.” I looked over the route three times. “Yes, I know what to do.”

  “I’m confused,” Elle said. “Won’t there be cars on any freeway we get on?”

  “Of course. That’s why we’re getting off the freeway.” I turned to Frankie. “Okay, in ten miles, you’re going to make a right on Toledo-Vader Road. I’ll tell you what to do next when we get there.”

  “Yeah? Can I trust you?”

  “Hey.” I smiled at the big guy. He smiled back. “We’re gonna make it.”

  I settled back in my seat, just in time to notice that Elle had fallen asleep again. Except this time she was on top of me, using my chest as her pillow. I kissed her on the cheek. She needed me. Almost as much as I needed her.

  I looked out the window to see what looked like a hospital in the distance. I thought about pointing it out to Mr. Balm, but he’d made it clear he wanted to stay put.

  The closer I studied the building, the less it made me think of Mr. Balm, and the more it made me think of two other important men in my life.

  #

  Saturday, December 19, 1998

  A few days before Christmas, Abram and Asher suffered appendicitis attacks in the same twelve-hour timespan.

  My dad was away on a last-minute business trip, and when he discovered his sons weren’t in any danger, he didn’t bother coming home. I sat in the family room all morning and listened to Connie chat with her friend on the telephone, discussing everything from the hotness of Grant Show on Melrose Place, to the best organic restaurant in Wichita. I tried to ask her how my brothers were doing, but she ignored me. Finally, an answer came through.

  My stepmom lowered the phone, then pushed it back up against her ear.

  “Pam, I have someone on the other line. Can you hang on a sec?” Connie pushed a button on the phone, then changed both her posture and the tone of her voice. “This is Connie Green. Yes, I’m the mother of Abram and Asher. How are they?” My stepmom, ten years my father’s junior, stared into a small mirror and picked at her teeth with her pinky. “So they can come home tomorrow? Great, that’s fantastic. Thank you so much.” She terminated the call, then went straight back to the conversation with her friend.

  “Connie?” I asked, for the umpteenth time. She still ignored me. I cleared my throat. “Connie Thornwall!”

  She glared at me, as she said into the phone, “One minute, Pam.” She pressed it against her boob and stepped into the family room. “How dare you call me by my maiden name you little brat!”

  I ignored her outburst. “How are Abram and Asher? Can we go see them today?”

  “They’re fine. They’re already out of surgery.” She waved me away. “Now go on. Don’t you have school or someth
ing?”

  “It’s Saturday.”

  “Homework?”

  “It’s Christmas break.”

  “Hmm.” She opened the nearest cupboard and grabbed the first thing she saw: Candy Land. She flung the board game at my chest, then returned to her vapid conversation.

  “You need more than one player for this,” I said, but she didn’t hear me.

  An hour later she left me alone at the house. She told me she was going out with friends, and that there were fish sticks in the freezer if I got hungry. She wanted me to go to my room and play with my dolls for the rest of the day, but Connie often forgot the simple truth: I was a teenager, not a child, one with plenty of tricks up her sleeve.

  I wasn’t close with my brothers—I still hadn’t forgiven them for all their pranks, especially that mean one at Perry State Park—but I didn’t like the idea of them stranded in a hospital all day with no one to come check on them.

  I walked two miles to the closest bus station, and, with a bag of quarters, paid for my ride to St. Francis Health Center in northern Topeka. I chatted with a receptionist who said that Abram and Asher were on the third floor, and I sauntered up the staircase. Twinkling Christmas lights decorated the hallway, and the television inside room 312 came complete with two mini reindeers on top.

  “Abram? Asher?” I took off my scarf and set it on the nearest chair.

  “Zip?” Abram asked. I knew it was Abram because his voice was a touch deeper than Asher’s.

  “Hey guys. I just wanted to come by and see how you were.” I grabbed the chair and dragged it to the center of the room, between the two beds.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he said.

  “I wanted to. What are the odds you both would’ve had your appendix out on the same freaking day?”

  “Asher started getting stomach pains first,” Abram said, resting his head against two large pillows. “I don’t know if the anxiety brought on my own pain, but I knew within an hour of Mom taking him to the hospital that I was going to get sick, too.”

  I stared at him, and narrowed my eyes. I chewed on my thumb.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Just… it always surprises me when you can call Connie Mom so easily. We had another mom before her, you know.”

  “She’s been dead for five years, Zip. It’s not like she died last week or something.”

  “I know.” I shoved my hands against my knees. “I just really want to keep her memory alive, that’s all.”

  I heard a rustle from my left, followed by a yawn so loud my chair seemed to rumble. Asher sat up, with a bad case of bedhead, and stared at me for a few seconds, like he didn’t know who I was.

  “Zip?” he asked. “You came to see us?”

  “Yeah. Connie’s busy, and Dad’s out of town. I thought I’d stop by. Make sure the two of you weren’t trying to kill each other.”

  “Come on, what is it?” Asher asked, scooting closer to me. “Do you need money or something?”

  “What?”

  “Cuz I’m not even wearing pants right now.”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m not here under false pretenses, guys. I promise. I just figured you might want some company.”

  “False pretenses?” Asher stared at Abram and chuckled. “When did you start talking like a forty-year-old lawyer?”

  “Uhh, I’m in high school, hello! And unlike you guys, I’m actually taking Honors classes.”

  “Wow, look at you,” Asher said, playfully. “Jeez, I can’t believe you’re a junior in high school. I still just think of you as our baby sister.”

  I smiled. “I’ll always be your baby sister, Ash. Even when I’m ninety.”

  He grinned, and reached his hand for mine. I didn’t know if I was supposed to take it—but I knew I had to.

  “What is it?” I said.

  “I can’t believe you came to see us. After all the mean things we’ve done to you over the years. I figured you hated us.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  He dangled his legs off the side of the bed, and kept a tight grip on my hand. “I mean, none of our friends showed up. Mom and Dad aren’t here.”

  I tried hard not to cry. My brothers were typically only nice to me when Dad forced them to be. They’d say my dress was pretty or that my new haircut wasn’t a complete disaster. But not much else.

  “It’s Christmas,” I said. “As they say, ‘tis the season for forgiveness.”

  “Don’t they say, ‘tis the season to be jolly?’” Asher asked, with a laugh.

  “Forgiveness?” Abram ignored his brother, and focused on me.

  Asher still had a strong grip on my hand. I turned to Abram.

  “Yeah,” I said. “How about we start with the time you guys abandoned me at Perry State Park, in the rain, with the coyotes. You know, when I spent hours all by myself, thinking I was going to die, until I finally found that park ranger.”

  We’d never talked about it. It’d been more than six years, and nobody had ever brought it up. My dad hadn’t even forced my brothers to apologize about it at the time.

  Abram stared at the ground, as did Asher. Then he took my hand, too.

  Silence ensued. I held both of my brothers’ hands, at the same time, for the first time in forever.

  Finally, Abram said, “I know we were cruel to you, Zip. And no apology could ever make it better. We were young and stupid. But now…” Abram looked at Asher, who nodded back. “Now I think I can speak for both of us when I say, I'm sorry. For being such a dumbass. I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

  His words blew through my chest and against my heart like a locomotive. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Of course. I want to make things better.”

  “I do, too,” Asher said.

  “We've been paying more attention to you than you might think.” Abram smiled. “We both know you’re gay, Zip.”

  I leaned my head back. “Wait, what?”

  “We know who you talk to all those long hours on AOL. We know it’s a girl, that her name's Mira. And you know what?” He dangled his legs over the edge, like Asher. “While Dad will probably explode—literally—if he ever finds out, we’re okay with it. It doesn’t make one bit of difference to us.”

  This couldn’t have been my own flesh and blood talking to me. My brother wasn’t possibly being this nice to me.

  I looked at Asher. He nodded. “Yeah, Zip. After we graduate, we won’t see you as much anymore. And we want you to be happy. With whoever you choose to love. It’s fine by us.” He bit down on his tongue. Tears welled up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry about that day we went to the park. That day has haunted us for so long.” He glanced at Abram, then focused his eyes on mine. “You could’ve died out there. We were trying to impress our friends, tried to look cool, but that’s no excuse. You deserved better.”

  A tear trickled down to his upper lip. I always knew my brothers to be more decent than they ever let on, but I had no idea they could be like this.

  “Thanks, guys. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

  “No,” Abram said. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “You know. For giving a shit.”

  Asher smiled and said, “No matter what, though, you’re still a little kid to us, Zip. You’re still our little monkey!”

  I let go of their hands and jumped up. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and started tickling Asher’s hips, a big grin on my face. “That’s not funny! That’s not funny at all!”

  “Oww, oww, oww,” he said. He turned away from me, and pointed at his hip. “In recovery! Remember?”

  “Oh!” In the shock of my brothers’ confessions, I forgot why they were in here, or that I was even in a hospital. “I’m so sorry!”

  “It’s okay,” Asher said. He looked away for a second, then pulled me against his chest and started tickling my armpits.

  “Oh God!” I shouted, laughing and crying at the same t
ime. “Stop it!”

  “Your turn, Abram,” Asher said. He pushed me back toward the chair, and Abram picked me up, started tickling me even more.

  It took me a minute to escape their grasps, but when I did, all I wanted to do was return. My brothers weren’t the evil monsters I grew up thinking them to be.

  They never were.

  #

  Monday, June 14, 1999

  A little after 1 AM, Frankie turned onto a narrow two-lane road that zoomed straight into a vast, foreboding forest. A thick mist had settled into the southern part of Washington, the grounds appearing like a mountain of dry ice had been dropped in a scalding hot pond.

  I kept my arms wrapped around little Elle while she slept. Frankie yawned in the front seat, but he was set on getting us to Seattle, even though it was well past everyone’s bedtime. Mr. Balm stayed concentrated on his breathing in the back, while Judy rested at the edge of his feet.

  I looked out the window. I thought about my brothers. I hoped, wherever they were, down on the ground or up in the sky, they were happy.

  “You doing all right?” Frankie asked.

  “Yeah, fine. You?”

  “Could be better. I’m having trouble seeing the road with all this fog. What’s going on with the weather?”

  “Isn’t the Pacific Northwest famous for rain and fog and pretty much anything but sunshine?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I can tell you this, though—I don’t see this kind of crap in Florida.” Frankie blinked a few times, like his trouble seeing out the windshield had more to do with his fatigue than the spooky mist.

  “We’re living in a world where dinosaurs roam,” I said. “I think the weather is the least of our problems.”

  “I know. It would just make me feel better if I could actually see. I don’t want to hit anything in the middle of the road.”

  “Like a dinosaur?”

  “Yeah, that would suck. Especially if it was a brontosaurus.”

  “Where are we, anyway?”

  Frankie sighed. I knew he was tired, but he was the only one suitable to operate a vehicle this big, especially with Mr. Balm still recovering in the back. “The last sign I saw was for a town called Morton.”

  Elle sat up on my lap, and raised her hands as high as they could go. “Are we there yet?” she asked Frankie.