Pink Water
It was ten thirty, and Monica and I had pulled the covers up on our beds and were pretending to be asleep. We heard the TV click off on the other side of our door. A few seconds later the doorknob turned and the door slowly opened. I held my breath as our mother peeked in at us and then closed the door. We waited until we heard the toilet flush in her bathroom and the squeak of her bed springs before we sat up in our beds.
Monica climbed out of hers silently. She had gotten so good at it that if I wasn’t watching her, I wouldn’t have known she did it.
She came over, sat on my bed, and turned her phone light on. “How do I look?”
She looked like a porcelain doll with bright red lips. The top one looked like a capital M with sharp points. She was so beautiful. I couldn’t believe she was my sister. I smiled at her. My cheeks felt warm.
She smiled back at me, but when she saw my smile fade into a frown, her face did the same. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
I whispered, “You’re going to get in trouble.”
She touched my chin and then pushed the corners of my mouth up with her finger. She smelled soft like powder. “How is mom going to find out?”
I shrugged.
“Sister secrets,” Monica said. She pulled a $5 bill out of a skirt pocket and pressed it into my hand. “Add that to your stash. How much do you have now?”
“Fifty dollars,” I said.
She kissed my forehead and gave me a quick hug. Then she turned her phone light off and stood up. The silhouette I saw against the light from the window was curved at the chest and waist. I wondered if I would ever get the same ones.
“Tell Cody hi,” I said as Monica went to the window and climbed out fast and quiet, like sneaking was her superpower.
*
I woke later that night to the sound of sniffles coming from Monica’s bed. I whispered her name into the dark.
There were a few more sniffles before she whispered back. “What?”
“Are you crying?”
“Why would I be crying?” She was quiet for a few seconds. “I caught a cold.”
I grabbed the Kleenex box next to my bed and put it on her nightstand.
“Thanks, best sister,” she whispered.
I pressed my hand against her forehead, but her soft skin felt fine.
*
I woke in the morning to the sound of water filling the bathroom sink. Monica’s bed was bare except for her blanket. When I looked in the bathroom, she was twisting water out her sheets.
“Why are you doing that?” I asked.
“They’re dirty,” she said.
“Have mom wash them.”
“We can help her sometimes,” Monica said. “Don’t say anything.”
I nodded. “You have lots of makeup on.”
“More than usual?” she asked.
“Your eye is red.”
She looked in the mirror and asked, “Do you think it’s from my cold?”
I watched as she slipped the damp sheets back on her bed and pulled her blanket over them. She grabbed her school bag and purse. “I’m going to school early,” she said and smiled at me. “Tell mom I have to make up a test.”
She was about to walk out when I asked, “What’s it like having a boyfriend?”
The smile left her face. She looked to the window and kept her eyes there when she spoke. “It’s nice,” she said. She stopped and took a deep breath. “But you have to keep him happy.”
“Is that why daddy left mommy?” I asked.
“Why else would he leave her?”
I thought for a second and shrugged. “Do you think I could keep a boyfriend happy?”
Monica looked back at me. Her smile returned. “I’ll tell you some ways when you’re old enough.” She turned to leave, but stopped. “I forgot to drain the sink. Get it for me?”
I went to the sink and thought about Cody and how much bigger he was than Monica. How he always had his arm locked around her and how she must feel safe. I thought about them laughing and kissing. I wondered what else they did when she snuck out, and how to keep a boy happy. Then I pressed the stem on the sink and watched the soapy pink water gurgle and swirl down the drain.
Thinking of You
I’m pedaling around the pond in the middle of the pines. The water mirrors the sky. Mayflies jet on the surface. A drake skims along, unfolding a shimmering caret behind him. We are warm in the sun and as unrushed as the summer day. He arcs to his left, and then his honk like a trumpet blast rips across the water. He lurches skyward, but a snapper locked on his leg pulls him down. His shrieks echo off the trees until they are silenced in a flurry of splashes and bubbles. I’m thinking of you and wondering how far I can ride.
Alien Buddha Press 