Over the Rainbow

by Brian Rowe

  “All right. Almost there.”

  I took a deep breath. I was surprised how nervous I was, especially since I had battled dinosaurs for the past day with few qualms at all.

  Frankie slowed to 10 MPH, tried to see an address. “It's too dark, Zippy,” he said. It was barely 4 AM, and the sun still hadn't broke. “We're gonna have to get out and go house to house—”

  “1229!” I shouted, with a big grin. A soft, yellow light illuminated the numbers on the house in front of us. “It's the next one over.”

  He pulled over to the sidewalk and I pointed toward the last house on the left. One of the biggest on the street, it sat up on a hill.

  “1231,” I said. “That's it.”

  “That’s it,” Frankie repeated.

  I nodded, placed my hands over my eyes, and wept.

  “Zippy,” Frankie said. He leaned over, grabbed my hands. “Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

  “No, no,” I said. “I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m crying because I’m so happy.”

  He glanced at the house. “What are you going to do, if—you know. If Mira isn’t there?”

  “Shh. Don't even say it.”

  “But—”

  “She’s in there, Frankie. I know she is.”

  I turned around. Mr. Balm sat upright, a knowing grin on his face, while Elle was asleep again and resting her head on his shoulder. Judy was curled up in a ball at their feet. “Thanks, Mr. Balm,” I said. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  “Sure you could’ve.” He moved the hair away from my eyes. “Sorry I’ve been such a pain in the ass.”

  “What? You haven’t been a pain at all.”

  “Sure I have. I’ll make it up to you, though. I promise.”

  I looked him over. “Are you feeling any better?”

  “Much. Thanks.”

  “Good.” I turned back to Frankie. “And you. I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Don’t,” he said.

  “If you hadn’t been on that plane, Frankie, I don't know what I would've done. You kept me going. You brought me here.”

  “Zippy.” He pointed at the house. “This isn't goodbye, okay? Go.”

  “What?”

  He leaned over me and pushed my door open. “Just go. We’ll be waiting for you. Both of you.”

  I sensed more tears coming on, but I suppressed them. I nodded to Frankie and stepped out of the car. I looked toward the two-story house on the hill. There was no movement. All of the lights were turned off. But I was confident she was in there. Somewhere. She had to be.

  I blinked a few times, wiped the raindrops from my face, and started walking.

  The winding driveway that led to Mira’s house was so intimidating that I was surprised it didn’t have a giant black gate to keep intruders away. I marched upward, keeping a steady pace, as the rain pounded against me. I kept my eyes focused on the dark house. I would’ve been less scared and more excited if even one lone light was turned on.

  I reached the top of the driveway, turned back toward the street. The car was still there.

  I wiped my shoes on the welcome mat and took a deep breath.

  I knocked on the door.

  And waited.

  The silence filled me with dread. Even though it was super late, Mira knew I was coming. When a minute passed and she didn’t answer the door, my heart dropped an inch or two. I tried the doorbell and waited again. Still nothing.

  I looked down at the doorknob. I must have stared at it for thirty seconds. I was scared of it being locked, I was scared of it being unlocked.

  I finally turned it, and sighed in relief when the door opened. I stepped inside. The house was in total darkness. I was thrilled to have no alarm go off, but I was dismayed by the lack of light.

  “Hello?” I said. “Is anyone here?”

  I found the nearest light switch, turned it on, and breathed in, satisfied, when the foyer of the two-story home came into view.

  “Mira?” No answer. I raised my voice a little. “If anyone can hear me, my name is Zippy Green, I’m friends with Mira. I’m not a stranger, and I’m not here to hurt anybody.”

  As I crept toward the nearest staircase, I waited for somebody to respond. But I didn’t hear a whisper, a footstep—anything. The house was empty. Mira’s parents had already taken her. I was too late.

  I shook my head, tried to push away the negative thoughts. No way would Mira leave me like this, so close to us finally meeting. If she wasn’t here, there had to be a reason, a good one—and I was certain, at the very least, she would’ve left me a note.

  “In her bedroom,” I whispered.

  Mira told me on AOL once that her room was on the second floor, so I headed up the staircase, straining my ears to hear something, anything. I reached the top and flipped the nearest light switch. The only open door was at the end of the hall.

  “Mira?” No response.

  I took a step. Then another. I sensed a presence.

  “Is someone in there?”

  An urge to run came over me, an urge to get out of the house. But not yet. I had to see what was inside the room.

  I clamped my sweaty hands together and stepped inside. It was large enough to be a master bedroom, but the computer set-up, light pink bedspread, and copious amounts of dinosaur paraphernalia proved it was Mira’s wing of the house. The window in the corner was open, allowing the rain to pound the sill as well as the wet carpet. I walked over and slammed the window shut.

  “Zipporah.”

  The voice stabbed me from behind, like a cold, hard dagger. I didn’t turn around. I peered out the window, tried to focus on the falling rain—but all I saw was my father’s reflection.

  I spun around. He looked like a ghost, his body concealed in shadow by the closet door.

  “I knew you’d come here,” he said. His hair was slicked back, and his face was pale white, like he’d been hiding in that closet all day patiently awaiting my arrival.

  “Daddy.”

  “It’s me.”

  “How did you…” I glanced at the bedroom door, wide open, a potential escape. But my dad blocked it. “How'd you find me?”

  He smiled. “It’s 1999, Zippy. In this age of the Internet, of America Online, did you really think you could escape me forever?”

  “But how did you find her house?”

  “It wasn’t hard. You shouldn’t have had your little girlfriend e-mail you her address. I already knew about Laurelhurst from the e-mails your mother printed out, but when I signed in to your account and read the newest message, you made it so damn easy.”

  “You hacked into my account?” I wanted to foam at the mouth, and then spit the foam into his face.

  He stared at me with pity. “Your password is jurassicpark. Really? You couldn’t have thought of something more cryptic than that?”

  I tried to run for the door. I didn’t want to stand there and listen to another one of his lectures. I had zipped myself into that suitcase for a reason.

  But he swung his right arm around me and pushed me back toward Mira’s desk. He shook his head.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere. I let you out of my sight once. That’s not going to happen again.”

  “Dad, please...”

  “Please, what?”

  “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do… whatever you’re going to do. Can’t you just let me go?”

  His condescending eyes burned into my skin. “You’re the only family I have left, Zipporah. Everybody’s gone.”

  “Abram? Asher?”

  “They were taken.”

  I lowered my head, and grinned. “Of course they were. They didn’t show it very much, Dad, but they were good. Unlike you.” I stared at him for a moment, as he took a step closer to me. “How did it feel? How did it feel to have God finally open His doors, and then leave you behind to rot with your lesbian daughter?”

&nb
sp; He slapped me in the face, lightly, but still hard enough for it to hurt. He turned away, almost immediately.

  “I’m… I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to—”

  “See what you just did there?” I pushed my palm against my throbbing cheek and leaned back against the desk. “That’s why He didn’t let you in.”

  “Stop it.” The hand he hit me with started trembling. He crossed his arms, tried not to show any weakness. “It was just an error in judgment, that's all. I want to understand His decision, and all I can think of is that He didn’t feel I’d done enough to save you from your sins.”

  I crossed my arms, too, and moved toward him. “Are you really that blind? Like, really? God not taking you had nothing to do with me, Dad. He didn't take you because you're mean, and conceited, and care more about what my being gay means to your career than it does to me.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head back and forth, real fast, like he wouldn't even consider the theory. “No, that's not true—”

  “What about Connie?” I asked. “Couldn’t you and her go have a miserable existence together?”

  He bit down on his tongue. Looked away.

  My eyebrows rose a centimeter or two. “Don’t tell me she got taken.”

  “I finally got a hold of her. She just took off, didn’t say good-bye. She went back to her family in New York.”

  “Wow,” I said. “That’s true love, Dad. You two were together for five years, and she up and leaves you without even a phone call.”

  He put his hand up again. “You shut your mouth, missy! I won't allow you to talk to me like this!”

  “Or you’ll what? Hit me again? Prove to me again why God left you behind?”

  He didn’t hit me. Instead he grabbed my shirt and pulled me close. “What the hell were you thinking getting in that suitcase? That was some little stunt you pulled, Zipporah. I ran around that airport for hours, looked everywhere. I thought you were dead! And then I find out you snuck onto that plane right under my nose. All so that you could come to Seattle and see your little—”

  “Dad!” I tried to pull out of his grasp, but he wouldn't let me go. “You were sending me to anti-gay camp! You wanted me to spend the whole summer being judged, being told how to live my life!”

  “They were going to help you. They were going to straighten you out. Instead you risk your life, you defy my orders, and you get on a plane—”

  “Defy your orders? What are you? My dad or my drill sergeant?”

  “Both.” He pulled me closer.

  I tried to move away. “Dad, you’re hurting me.”

  “Are you happy? Are you happy with what you did?”

  “It had nothing to do with you, don't you get it? I just wanted a fresh start. I wanted to find someone who actually cared about me.”

  He finally let me go. He stepped back into the middle of the room. “Someone who cared about you? Well, where is she, huh? Look around. Where is your little girlfriend?”

  “She’s here. She's here, I know she is!”

  I ran for the door again and this time anticipated his movement. When he stuck out his arm to block me, I ducked and pushed against his back. I collided against the wall in the hallway and tried to close the bedroom door, but he flung it open, and chased after me.

  “Get back here!” he shouted. He grabbed my right foot and sent me down to the carpet. “Stop running from me!”

  “Let me go!”

  He swung me around and pulled me up to his chest. His cheeks were red with rage, and his eyes looked like they were ready to pop out of their sockets. “We are going home, you understand? You are coming with me!”

  I extended my knee. Aimed for the proper place.

  “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  I kicked him in the crotch, as hard as I could. All the color drained from his face. He rolled over me and tumbled onto his back.

  “Oww,” he said.

  I jumped to my feet to run downstairs, but he blocked the way down. I looked over the bannister. It was too far to jump.

  I struck my fist against the wall. “Shit.”

  “Hey! Get over here!” my dad shouted, and swung his arms toward me.

  I turned around, ran back into Mira’s room. I was shocked and elated to see a lock on her door.

  “Yes,” I said.

  I slammed it shut and locked it, a mere second before my dad grabbed the knob on the other side and tried to push the door open. I turned toward the back corner of the room. The window.

  “Open the door!” my dad shouted. “Zipporah, I mean it!”

  I ignored him, and wedged the window open as far as it would go. I dipped my left leg over the side and prepared to climb out onto the roof, when a light from Mira's computer beckoned me. I hadn’t noticed it until now. Her computer had been black when I entered the room, but now her desktop was lit up with a serene picture that stretched all the way across her monitor. I stepped back into the room.

  My dad banged hard against the door, not like he was striking it with his fists, but like he was trying to break it down with his entire body.

  But I just kept on ignoring him. I stayed fixated on the desktop. “Oh my God,” I said.

  The image was of a sparkly green lighthouse, one that looked out over a never-ending sea.

  I closed my eyes. She’d mentioned this lighthouse before.

  I remembered one of our IM conversations from last fall:

  SparkleFlower: What are you doing?

  zippitydoodah: Nothing, you?

  SparkleFlower: Waiting for the Buffy season premiere.

  zippitydoodah: Oh, when does it start again?

  SparkleFlower: 8

  zippitydoodah: Will it make sense if I haven't watched it before?

  SparkleFlower: Yes, you'll love it, Z.

  zippitydoodah: Why?

  SparkleFlower: It's about a girl who's different but her friends accept her for who she is. She also kicks serious booty.

  zippitydoodah: Is there something wrong with her?

  SparkleFlower: No, she's a vampire slayer.

  zippitydoodah: Oh, right.

  zippitydoodah: Mira? Are you there?

  SparkleFlower: Yeah.

  zippitydoodah: You're being quiet.

  SparkleFlower: I'm just sad.

  zippitydoodah: Why?

  SparkleFlower: I just wish we could watch it together, that's all.

  SparkleFlower: I'm tired of talking to you on a computer screen.

  zippitydoodah: We’ll meet each other soon. I promise.

  zippitydoodah: And when it happens it will be worth the wait.

  SparkleFlower: But I want you here now.

  SparkleFlower: I want to show you all around Seattle.

  SparkleFlower: You know where I would take you if you came here?

  zippitydoodah: Where?

  SparkleFlower: There's this lighthouse near my neighborhood. It's on a private beach and it's quiet and empty and looks out over Lake Washington. It's so beautiful, Z.

  zippitydoodah: That sounds amazing. A day at the lighthouse.

  SparkleFlower: Oh my God, it does.

  SparkleFlower: If you're ever in Seattle and can't find me, that's where I'll be.

  zippitydoodah: Why wouldn't I be able to find you?

  SparkleFlower: I don't know. It's a strange world we live in.

  zippitydoodah: That's for sure.

  SparkleFlower: Buffy's starting. You gonna watch it with me?

  zippitydoodah: Of course. Pretend I'm there with you.

  SparkleFlower: Hugging me?

  zippitydoodah: Of course.

  SparkleFlower: Kissing me?

  zippitydoodah: Mmm hmm.

  zippitydoodah: Next summer, Mira. I promise. I'm coming.

  SparkleFlower: I can't wait.

  SparkleFlower: But please don't make promises you can't keep.

  zippitydoodah: I would never.

  SparkleFlower: I love you.

&nb
sp; zippitydoodah: I love you, too.

  I opened my eyes. Looked closer at the image. Let the banging sounds on the door drain away from my senses. I pressed my face up against the computer screen.

  Next to the lighthouse, in small black letters, were three little words: COME FIND ME.

  My dad busted the door down and ran into the room, but I was already five steps ahead of him. He lunged for my legs, and missed, as I crawled out the window, onto the roof. I stopped myself just a few feet before the edge. The rain was still coming down in buckets, making it difficult to see anything. I crawled up to my feet. I didn’t think my dad would dare come out onto the roof—but there he was, tiptoeing down the side.

  “Zipporah! Stop this! You’re going to kill yourself!”

  “Leave me alone!” I stepped to my left, but there was nowhere else to go. He blocked the way back in. It was either take his hand and go back to Topeka, or jump.

  “Come with me,” he said, putting his hand out. “I'll keep you safe.”

  “No! Stay away!”

  “I’m not going to hurt you, honey! I promise I won't! I just want us to go home. We can start over.”

  “Start what over?” I crouched down. “I don't want to start anything over with you!”

  “Zipporah, I am your father! You have to respect me!”

  “No,” I said, glancing down. “Not before you respect me, Dad.”

  I closed my eyes and leaped off the roof. I hoped I jumped far enough.

  Thank God I did. I landed feet first into the deep end of Mira’s swimming pool and sunk straight to the bottom.

  I opened my eyes, and saw a figure swimming toward me. It was my mom. She was in a bathing suit, that yellow one-piece she loved so much. She waved at me.

  I put out my arms. I wanted a hug from the person I missed most in this world, but she just smiled, and pointed up. I needed to go up.

  I swam to the top, breathed in the cold air, and looked up at the roof. My dad was still there, his hands shoved against the back of his head.

  “Zipporah? Are you all right?”

  I didn’t say a word. I swam to the edge of the pool.

  “That was really stupid, you know! You could’ve hurt yourself!”

  Again, I ignored him. I pushed myself up out of the water and rolled onto the rocky cement.

  “I’m coming down,” he said. “Stay right there!”