Sync, page 7
But Thursday after school
Jim has news.
I heard from your sister’s
caseworker today. She can
arrange for a short visit.
“With Lake? Really?”
I Tamp Down Expectation
It’s been forever, with no word.
Yes, with Lake.
“When?”
Tomorrow evening. She thought
you could have dinner. I’m sorry.
I know you and Jaidyn were—
“No. No. She’ll understand.”
Still, when I call to let her know,
I suck in a deep breath, hold it.
Oh, I’m so happy for you.
I know it’s been a long time.
I expel all that air from my lungs.
“I’ll make the game up to you!
Oh, Jai. I’m so stoked! Hey, have
I told you I loved you lately?”
I do. And I love my sister.
And I get to see her tomorrow.
I can barely eat. Anticipation
flutters in my stomach.
I can barely sleep. Recollections
flicker on and off like old movies.
I only wish they were kinder.
But maybe there’s still time.
Maybe Lake and I can create new
memories to carry forward.
School Is Impossible This Morning
I keep reading the same
pages over and over,
in English even, and still
they make no sense.
Every class drags,
minute by minute by minute,
until the bell makes me jump,
each one bringing me
a little closer to Lake.
Jaidyn decides to go
to the game without me.
No problem. We’ll meet up
tomorrow, hang out, and swap
stories about our Friday nights.
Pick you up around noon?
she asks when she drops
me off at home.
“Perfect. Love you. Be good.
Never mind. You’re always good.”
Wait. She hands me a small
box, gift wrapped. I got this
for Lake. It’s a bottle of Daisy.
“Your perfume?”
I used to wear it, but switched
to Cloud. I still love Daisy, though,
and hope your sister will, too.
She Is Amazing
I tell her that, give her a long,
deep kiss for the road.
“Hey, Jim,” I call, once inside.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
I kind of expect he’ll come
tell me tonight’s been canceled.
But he yells, Okay! We should
leave around 4:30. Traffic.
Bay Area roads can be bumper-
to-bumper any time of day.
But late afternoon on Friday
they’re total quagmires.
I deposit my backpack in my room.
Search my drawers for clothes.
Grab the nicest pair of jeans I own,
plus my (clean) Rex shirt.
Lake will get a kick out of that.
It will be the perfect icebreaker.
Weird to need one, but four years
apart have made Lake and I strangers.
How can I feel such a deep bond
with someone I no longer know?
Standing Beneath
A rivulet of steaming water,
I think back to the events
that forced us apart.
Eloise fostered for money,
so she took us both in.
We arrived, afraid to be hopeful.
She proved us right.
From the start, our closeness
scratched at her.
That grew into suspicion.
After an awful day at school,
Lake was hugging me.
We were fully clothed.
But Eloise saw us, screamed
incest! and called social services.
Our caseworker, Pam,
believed our denial.
She understood the link
between Lake and me.
But her hands were tied.
It was an ugly scene.
My sister and I had never
been separated before.
I begged to stay.
Eloise insisted no way.
Lake sobbed her own pleas.
But Eloise wanted me gone.
She didn’t even mind
losing the stipend.
Pam Did Her Best
To keep Lake and me in touch
for the next year or so.
We exchanged letters.
Scheduled phone calls.
But it wasn’t easy.
Levi and Anna, my fosters,
were happy to let us communicate.
Eloise, not so much.
This was her bullshit excuse.
It upsets Lake when she talks
to Storm. Best just leave her alone.
Pam did manage to arrange
a face-to-face on our thirteenth
birthday. We celebrated with
pizza and ice cream cones.
The day was bittersweet.
Sweet: Precious hours with Lake,
who I hadn’t seen in eleven months.
She’d grown two inches.
Her hair had grown five.
Still sapling thin, her cheeks
were hollows. Sadness glittered
in her eyes. She was beautiful.
Bitter: Knowing our fragile
bond would break again.
When we parted, returned
to our separate worlds,
the severing ripped me apart.
I’ve Mostly Sewn
Myself back together.
But the stitching is weak.
I hope a visit with Lake can reinforce
it. Maybe now we can stay in touch.
It takes an hour twenty
to drive, like, thirty-five miles.
By the time we pull into
the restaurant parking lot,
I’m shaking. “Hey, Jim? Thanks.”
For what?
“Braving the freeways for me.”
No problem. Ready?
I am. I’m not.
I get out of the car.
Follow Jim inside.
It takes ten seconds to spot her.
Maybe because she scans
every face that walks through
the door and when she sees mine
she jumps up, comes running.
We crash into each other,
but the only pain is what we’ve held
inside for so very long.
It escapes in two exhaled words.
“Lake.” Storm.
By Mutual Silent Agreement
We sit barely touching,
in need of proximity without
raising some weird suspicion.
Unthinkable.
We’ve both brought letters
and cards we couldn’t send,
or that came back to us.
Undeliverable.
But we leave those for later.
We talk about school.
My girlfriend. Her only friend.
Unfamiliar.
We swap stories about
placements. Fosters.
Best of. Worst of.
Uncategorized.
Lake explains her fashion
sense, shopping at thrift
stores, vintage versus new.
Uninhibited.
I tell her about fistfights,
things learned in lockup.
She looks disappointed.
Uncomfortable.
I make a quick diversion.
We discuss dogs. Rex.
Morley. A senile poodle.
Unpedigreed.
Eventually we stumble
across information
we should have had by now.
Unbelievable.
It’s Tossed at Us
By Lake’s caseworker, Candace.
She and Jim have been quietly
eating pasta, trying not to interrupt
the conversation across the table.
When we finally quiet,
Candace clears her throat.
Sorry to be the bearer
of bad news, and you should
have known this sooner,
but I just found out myself.
“Sounds ominous,” I comment.
Your grandmother passed
away six weeks ago.
The information sinks in
slowly, like through quicksand.
Lake’s expression changes
from impassive to morbidly curious.
How? Was she murdered?
I could totally see that.
But that’s the kind of thing
Candace would lead off with—
your grandmother was murdered.
No. She was hit by a car.
“Which doesn’t completely
rule out murder.”
I think it’s funny, but
my joke crashes and burns.
Candace shakes her head.
Dark street. Drunk driver.
Camera showed her wobble
off the sidewalk right in front
of the guy. He never saw her.
That is some serious karma.
I thought someone should
tell you both in person, which
is how I was able to arrange
this visit. Thankfully, Colleen,
Jay, and Jim agreed.
“It’s messed up that’s what
it took. But thanks anyway.”
Storm…warns Jim.
It’s okay, Candace interjects.
I understand and happen to agree. Let’s see if we can do better, okay?
Did they bury her? asks Lake.
I don’t know.
Lake’s jaw goes rigid.
I hope they burned her so
she can’t ever come back.
Harsh, But I Get It
Jim and Candace, however,
look quite concerned.
I try to lighten the mood.
“Pretty sure burning’s for vampires.
Beverly was more of a money
sucker than a bloodsucker.”
Only Lake laughs, and even
that is half-ass. Hey, I tried.
Jim attempts a subject change.
Anyone want dessert?
I do, says Lake. Every good
wake requires desserts.
Everyone smiles and orders
something sugary for the death party.
About the time Candace asks
for the check, I decide I should
at least inquire about our mother.
“Do you know what’s up with Mom?”
Sorry, no. I haven’t heard
a word from her since
we removed you the last time.
Lake and I are given a few
minutes to say goodbye.
She doesn’t have a cell, but
her fosters have a landline.
I put the number in my phone.
“It’s great we can talk sometimes.
Jim will be cool with it. What about
your people—uh, Colleen and Jay?”
Just don’t say the Lord’s name
in vain if they can hear.
“That kind, huh? Okay, no problem.
Hey. Should we feel bad about Beverly?”
Do you think she cared even
a little about us?
“No. But did you ever wonder
what made her so damn cold?”
Doesn’t matter. Everyone has
the choice whether to perpetuate
their terrible childhoods. You and I
grew up without love, but we can
find it now. And pass it on.
“We loved each other.”
Still do. But we deserve more.
I study her for a moment.
“You’re tougher than I thought.”
You’re softer than I remember.
Not in a bad way. But that
sharp edge has tempered.
I take that as a compliment.
And I credit it to Jaidyn.
Which Reminds Me
“Hey. Almost forgot.”
The pretty bottle is warm
from my pocket.
Daisy?
“It’s one of Jaidyn’s favorites.
She knows how much I like it
and thought maybe you would, too.”
Lake opens it carefully.
Dabs a bit on her wrists,
inhales the scent appreciatively.
It’s wonderful, like berries
in a garden of jasmine. I love it.
“Do you wear perfume?”
Sometimes. But I could never
afford something this nice.
It’s expensive? I’m clueless.
“You deserve nice things.
Someday I’ll make sure
you have lots of them.”
I don’t care about things.
I just want to have you in my life.
“You will. I promise. Every time
you wear Daisy, remember that.”
It Takes Under an Hour
To get home. I spend the minutes
going through Lake’s notes
and cards. Her handwriting
is impressive. Unlike mine.
I hope she can read what I gave
her, and that it fills in the blanks for her
half as well as she does for me.
We talked about a funny poodle
at dinner. There’s more about him
here. Also, something about a girl
Lake got close to. Melanie.
I sense there’s more to that story.
When we were little, Lake
and I had this thing. Our sync.
Sort of a psychic connection.
Like, we could finish each other’s
sentences, or even say out loud
what the other was thinking.
I have no idea if that kind
of thing fades with time
and distance, or if it’s easily
rekindled, but this evening
when Lake was talking about
Parker, I had this feeling
they might be more than friends.
Tone of voice or tenor
of thought, I hope so.
If I deserve love, so does my sister.
I Try Calling Jaidyn
When we get home.
But no luck.
It’s a little after nine,
so she’s probably still
at the game.
I leave a voicemail.
“Hope you’re having fun.
Tonight was awesome.
More tomorrow. See you
at noon. Oh. And I love you.”
Jim asks me to watch a movie.
I decline, go to my room, spent.
Happiness is expensive
energy, I guess.
I put Lake’s correspondence
on the nightstand. Kick off
my shoes. Toss my jeans
and Rex shirt on the chair, lie
on the bed, close my eyes.
My brain is a kaleidoscope.
Twist, twist.
Memory.
Twist, twist.
Photograph.
Twist, twist.
Paragraph.
Twist, twist.
Dream.
A Shimmer of Sunlight
Rouses me out of a series
of interconnecting dreams.
I was looking for something.
Started in one place. Moved
into another. And another.
In the end, it eluded me.
I wake, frustrated. But I’ll see
Jaidyn soon. My spirits lift
and I hum through breakfast.
I’m ready by eleven.
Antsy by eleven thirty.
Anxious at five after twelve.
She isn’t that late. But she’s never late.
Twelve thirty, I call her.
She doesn’t pick up, but if
she’s driving she wouldn’t.
I redial several times and when
I don’t hear anything in an hour,
my stomach starts to knot.
Jim’s in his office, writing.
“Can you drive me to Jaidyn’s?”
If you’re really that worried,
of course. It’s not like her, is it?
Not at all, and that thought replays
the whole way there, churning my worry.
When we turn down her block,
I can see her car in front of her house.
That should make me feel better.
It doesn’t.
LAKE
I Open My Eyes
Against the ashen wash
of early morning light.
Window: familiar.
Bed: ditto.
Pillow: same.
But there’s something
different. Something new.
It takes a few for it to sink in.
Daisy.
Even hours old,
the fragrance lingers,
as if it has woven itself
into the threads of my sheets.
