November 13, 2006
Chapter 14
(Filed under: The Novel)Anwyn climbed aboard the school bus after her final class and slumped into a seat halfway back. She sat next to the window and just stared out.
She remembered when Isabelle started high school. She was in a panic about everything—her classes, her friends, what to wear. Even something as simple as breakfast set her off into a panic.
On the first day of school she was flying around trying to find her new clothes and her new school bag. Anwyn and her father sat at the table having breakfast, like they did every day. Anwyn would have to start getting ready soon, but she didn't have to leave for another 45 minutes. She had plenty of time. Isabelle, on the other hand, had to leave in ten minutes. And she wasn't dressed yet.
"Isabelle," Jack called out. "Did you get some breakfast?" Anwyn grinned, but didn't look up from her cereal bowl. Isabelle never ate breakfast.
"Dad!" came the shriek from upstairs. Jack just chuckled.
"It does a body good," he called out again, this time breaking into laughter.
"You're bad," Anwyn said, trying not to laugh herself.
"Yeah, I suppose I am," Jack said. "Maybe I should help her out." He set his bowl and glass on the counter and walked towards the stairs. Then Isabelle came flying down the stairs.
"What are you looking for?" Jack asked.
"Nothing," Isabelle said. "I'm fine."
"Well, it sure looks that way," Jack said. "Let me help you out."
"No, Dad, I've got it under control," Isabelle said. "I'm in high school now." That had been her refrain for the summer. She was in high school now and she could handle it. She was in high school and she didn't need help. She was in high school now and she didn't lower herself to giggling with Anwyn or going to the library with her or any of the things they used to do. Though every now and then she'd slip and let out a girlish giggle or do something nice with Anwyn before realizing it and trying to be extra cold to make up for it.
Isabelle had changed her outfit one final time and now was trying to track down her backpack. She found it, crammed her notebooks and folders into it and took off out the front door. Anwyn just shook her head and kept eating her cereal. She had learned over the summer not to worry about it. Jack sighed and watched his firstborn march defiantly down the sidewalk towards the bus stop. She didn't need help anymore. She was above it.
When Anwyn came home from her first day of sixth grade, Isabelle was of course already home. She had claimed the TV and was stretched out on the couch watching reruns of The Cosby Show.
"Hey," Anwyn said. She sat down in the chair opposite Isabelle. Isabelle just grunted, hardly turning to look at her sister. They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching Cliff Huxtable talk about the quality of chocolate cake.
"So," Anwyn said, "How was high school?"
"It was fine," Isabelle said. Anwyn didn't say anything. These were the same lame answers she'd give her parents when they asked her later that evening. Anwyn stood up to leave her sister to the TV.
"How was middle school?" Isabelle asked. Anwyn stopped.
"What?" she asked.
"How was middle school?" Isabelle repeated. Anwyn sat down on the arm of the chair.
"It was kind of fun, actually," Anwyn said.
"I liked having different classes and different teachers all day long," Isabelle said, turning away from the Huxtable family.
"Yeah, that's pretty cool," Anwyn said.
"Who do you have for science?"
"Mr Johnson," Anwyn answered.
"Ooh, he's good," Isabelle said. "Just be sure to study hard for his tests." It was the old Isabelle, suddenly returning to be nice to her little sister.
"Any cute boys in your classes?" Isabelle asked. And there it was. Anwyn knew it wouldn't last long. There was the mature Isabelle, beginning to emerge.
Anwyn just shrugged. She had never been as eager to share the Justin Crenshaws of her life with her sister. And Isabelle knew that.
Isabelle turned back to the TV and Anwyn went to her room. Later that evening their parents would ask about school and Isabelle would shrug and say it was fine.
The bus stopped in the middle of Richmond and Anwyn filed off the bus with her other classmates and started walking home. She remembered Isabelle's momentary burst of kindness on her first day of high school. That's often how her experiences with her sister over the next, final few years would go. Excessive surliness and then suddenly, unexpectedly something kind and decent. It wasn't a precursor to suicide though, it was just being a teenager.
Anwyn scratched Charlie under the collar when she walked in, the dog turning and leaning into it. Anwyn gave him a final pat on the head and stuck her head into her dad's office.
"Hey dad," she said. Jack just turned and waved, pointing to his earpiece perched on the side of his head. Anwyn liked to call him a cyborg when he wore it. He was on a business call. He mouthed a "how was school" and raised his eyebrows like a question. Anwyn gave him the thumbs-up and he nodded.
"How's the call?" Anwyn asked softly. Jack rolled his eyes and then pretended to fall asleep.
"No, it's a database issue," Jack suddenly said, jolting back awake. He paused and gave Anwyn a look. He shrugged and continued, "Yeah, I'm sure. I've checked it twice." Anwyn grabbed a snack from the fridge and headed up to her room.
The floor of Anwyn's room was no longer completely consumed with boxes. There were only a few strays leftover, shoved off in a corner. They'd probably stay there for months. Anwyn had never moved before, at least not that she remembered, so she had no idea how it was done. She didn't realize that if she didn't unpack the boxes now she'd never do it.
She sat down on her bed and remembered another day when Isabelle's niceness had poked through, only to suddenly disappear again. They had taken the bus downtown to the big library. Their mom wasn't thrilled with the idea, but they both had big projects to work on and it seemed like the easiest way for both of them to get research done and not to have to worry about parking downtown.
"Mom, I’m 15," Isabelle kept saying. "I'm not a child." That made Anwyn 11 and not a child either, but Isabelle thought otherwise.
"Well then you can take your sister," Jill said.
"But mom," Isabelle intoned.
"But what?" Jill asked. "You both need to go to the library. You're old enough and responsible enough to take the bus as you've so persuasively argued. That means you're also old enough and responsible enough to take your sister and keep an eye on her."
"Fine." Isabelle huffed, exasperated. Anwyn didn't say anything. She didn't think she needed Isabelle keeping an eye on her, but she also didn't want to take the bus alone.
"Let's go," Isabelle muttered. They walked out the door together, but hardly together. Isabelle walked in front, with her quick, rushed strides. Anwyn struggled to keep up, wishing Isabelle wouldn't get so annoyed so quickly.
The bus pulled up to the stop and Anwyn followed Isabelle on. Isabelle paid for both of them, making a big deal of it and telling the driver she was also paying for her little sister. Anwyn resented the emphasis she put on 'little.' Isabelle led them to the back of the bus, and motioned for Anwyn to take the corner seat in the back. It was actually the seat Anwyn preferred, so she didn't complain about being bossed around. From that seat you could see the entire bus, you had a clear view out the window, and—best of all—you could put your feet up behind the seat in front that face the center of the bus.
Isabelle sat down next to her sister, but also next to an older, rough looking boy. Anwyn didn't realize it at the time, but Isabelle spotted the guy when she got on the bus and planned to sit next to him, forcing Anwyn to take the window seat so she could sit next to the boy.
Before she knew it, Anwyn realized her sister had struck up a conversation with the boy sitting next to her. She didn't even realize it had happened and afterwards wished she had. She was never good at starting conversations with total strangers and always wondered the best way to start—without doing something completely goofy like commenting on a T-shirt or making inane comments about the weather. Anwyn imagined her sister had better methods.
But there they were, Isabelle and this boy, talking. He had to be older, maybe a senior, maybe in college. Maybe just a drop out. They were talking about music now, bands Anwyn had never heard of and she wasn't entirely sure Isabelle had heard of them either.
It turned out that the boy was going to the library, too. At least that's what he said. Anwyn wasn't so sure. It didn't look like he needed to go to the library. He didn't have a bag or a notebook or anything. The bus stopped and the three of them stood up and went out the rear door of the bus. Isabelle and the boy—his name turned out to be Nick—walked in front, laughing and carrying, while Anwyn followed a few paces behind, clutching her notebook and looking at the pavement.
Her sister was flirting, with abandon, with a total stranger. Her parents would be pissed. But Anwyn wouldn't say anything. As much as she wanted to turn her sister in and watch her get busted, she also didn't want to tattle. She also knew that Isabelle tended to get herself in trouble. Anwyn had realized long ago that she didn't have to take the heat for getting Isabelle in trouble. She'd do it herself.
They walked in the big doors and Isabelle and the boy turned to the right and started heading towards the stacks. But then Isabelle said something, the boy stopped, and she turned and walked back to Anwyn.
"Meet me here, at the entrance, in two hours," she said, turning to walk away almost immediately.
"What?" Anwyn said. "Where are you going?"
"Nick and I are going to study and we don’t need you bothering us," Isabelle said. "You've been here before, you know what you're doing."
"What do you mean, you and Nick?" Anwyn asked, pushing the edge.
"What about it?" Isabelle asked. "Do you need me to take you by the hand and help you with your homework?"
"No," Anwyn said, defiance in her voice.
"Look, you're smart, you can do this yourself," Isabelle said, trying a different track. "Mom should have let you come by yourself. So what do you care what I do?"
"Fine," Anwyn said. "Two hours?"
"That's my sister," Isabelle said, pinching Anwyn's cheek and turning to rejoin Nick. Anwyn locked eyes with Nick who had been staring at her. He had his head tilted back slightly, like he was trying to look down on her even more than his height allowed. He gave Isabelle a smile—a sleazy smile, Anwyn thought—and the two walked together into the history section.
Isabelle looked back at the last second, looking back to reassure Anwyn. But Anwyn didn't see the usual confidence and strength in her sister's eyes. She saw the eyes of a scared little girl.
But Anwyn just shook her head and got to work. She went up the marble staircase to the third floor and started her research. She was doing a history project on St. Paul and asked the librarian to pull a few local interest books and documents. She holed up at a table with a pile of books and flipped pages and scribbled notes.
She worked for a solid hour, writing down names and dates and interesting tidbits. She took a detour reading about the origins of Mississippi Boulevard and East River Parkway, the roads that followed the Mississippi River on each side of the bluffs, but otherwise stuck to her work and finished earlier than she thought she would.
Anwyn packed up her notes and returned the books to the librarian with a polite 'thank you.'
Now she had an hour to kill. She was in one of the most amazing and interesting buildings in St. Paul. The library building was completed in 1917 and had ancient marble arches and rich woodwork. It was an architectural marvel.
But marveling at an old building isn't how Anwyn chose to spend her remaining hour. Instead she would marvel at her sister.
Anwyn wondered around the third floor, went down to the children's section and then back up to the second floor. She looked down every aisle of books, peeked in semi-private caddies and nooks where researchers were pouring over stacks and stacks of books. She checked the bathrooms and the café on the first floor.
Finally she went in one of the newer side rooms. Here the ancient building suddenly felt modern. It was as if an extra floor had been wedged into the building to accommodate more books and all the architecture flourishes were forgotten in an effort to cram more books into a tiny space.
Here the shelves were extremely narrow. There was hardly enough room to turn around. This room was also empty. Anwyn quietly tiptoed down the center aisle, pausing to peer down each row as she went.
And then she heard it. Muffled giggling, whispers, hushing and more giggling. It was coming from the corner. Anwyn came to the sixth row from the end and snuck down the row. Each shelf had slats where you could see through to the next row, and the row beyond that and across the room. Except where books were too tall and blocked the view. The result was that you could just barely find a sight line to peer all the way across the room. Peering six rows over was a little easier, but it was still a challenge.
Within six feet of the end of the row Anwyn got down on the floor and peered through the rows into the corner. She saw two pairs of legs—her sister and Nick. She sat up on her knees and tried to peer through a few shelves higher, but her view was blocked. She went up another shelf and could see Nick and Isabelle at waist level. They were standing close together. Then farther apart, then back together—depending on whether they were whispering or giggling or both.
Anwyn slowly moved up another shelf, carefully peeking to make sure she couldn't be seen. This time she could see higher. Isabelle's back was to her and Nick was facing her. His arms were around her.
Anwyn dared to go another shelf higher and this time she could see their faces, at least Nick's face—she saw the back of Isabelle's head. Nick's eyes were glued to Isabelle and he seemed oblivious to anything else. Isabelle didn't have the same concentration and she kept turning her head at every little sound. When she turned Anwyn could see her face, and she had the same scared, lost look in her eyes. She tried to hide it, to cover it up with her usual confidence and air of superiority, but she couldn't. Even Nick could see the fear in her eyes.
And that's when he kissed her. He moved in, his mouth opening in a sneer and he kissed Isabelle, not letting her turn to check the aisle for the umpteenth time.
Anwyn's eyes widened and she was about to turn away when Nick opened his eyes and stared straight at Anwyn, his lips still locked with Isabelle's. Anwyn couldn't move. She didn't know what to do, whether she should run or act like she hadn't seen anything. But it was too late for that now and she was too scared to run. Nick didn't seem to react either, he just kept staring.
And then Isabelle finally turned and pulled away from Nick, who broke his gaze at Anwyn. She took her chance and turned and ran, not caring how loud she was anymore. Isabelle didn't notice the footsteps but pushed Nick away. She glared at him and then turned and stalked off.
Nick watched her go, not saying anything.
Posted by kevin at November 13, 2006 10:09 PM
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