As I sit here in the crowded forest where the only audible sound is of leaves rustling in the wind behind the tall oak tree where I seem to find myself a lot of the time, I begin to think about Teri.  What is her future going to look like without me?  Will she be okay if I decide to leave when I turn 18 in six months, or will I have to stay here and take care of her?  Do I really want to leave here, or is it best for everyone’s sake if I stay?  My stampede of thoughts is interrupted by someone calling my name.

“Savannah!  Dinner is ready!”  Louise yells out the door.

I jolt up out of my daze.

“Okay, be there in a sec’,”  I shout back.

            I trudge back to the small cabin and swing open the screeching screen door.  The air condition rumbles as if it is also complaining about the sweltering heat.  I can’t blame it.  I always ask if we can get a pool, even one of those cheap blow up ones.  The response I get is a constant “next year.”  Eventually I gave up and settle for the sprinkler in my front yard.

“It’s so hot out there, Savannah, I can’t imagine it’s comfortable sitting out there.  Haven’t you heard about all those sun diseases on the news lately?  Wouldn’t you rather just stay inside with the air conditioning?”  Louise asks with concern in her voice.

“You mean the air conditioning that doesn’t work?  I’ll take my chances,”  I say firmly.

“Why did you make soup again?  It’s so hot out.  Can we just have popsicles?”  Teri begs.

“You’re lucky you’ve got any food at all.  Now stop your complaining and eat your supper,”  Louise answers as she strolls over to her chair and thumps down onto the dusty cushion, knocking the wind out of it.

I donate the next lengthy few minutes picking at the leftover soup from last night’s supper.  It was good, but Teri was right.  It was too hot for soup.  Sweat was actually starting to drip from my nose into the soup.

“May I be excused?”  I ask politely.

“Sure, but please stay inside.  I don’t want your Mama upset with me because you’ve got some rare form of skin cancer,”  Louise says.

“Mama’s never even home.  She wouldn’t find out if I grew five extra heads, let alone a sunburn,”  I respond, beginning to furrow my brow.

“Well, just in case she makes an unexpected appearance, please refrain from growing extra limbs if it’s not too much trouble.  You’re already a load of work; I don’t know what I’d do if you started multiplying,”  Louise answers in her sarcastic tone.

“Whatever,”  I reply and roll my eyes as I turn away toward my bedroom.

I open the door and sit down next to the boisterous fan that’s long overdue for a replacement.  I lay my head down to take a nap, but it is boisterous in her room.  My eyelids are beginning to sweat just from the heavy task of holding them open.  I close them and begin to think.  Where was Mama lately?  Sure, she was usually M.I.A at home but never gone for this long.  She didn’t even come home to watch Teri’s second grade graduation.  I had to go in her place, and even though Teri didn’t say it, I could tell she was disappointed.  She had that sort of melancholy look on her face on a day that she was looking forward to for what seemed like a millenium.  She definitely didn’t let us forget about it, but Mama must have.  She hadn’t called in a long time either.  I wanted to miss her like a daughter should really miss her mother after a long time apart, but she was never really around anyways. 

Louise was always supposed to be my “stay in mother,” but to be honest, she felt more like my mother than my real mother did. When Teri came around, I thought for sure Mama would be around a lot more often, just like she promised, but she just seemed to go away more and more.  Her job was important, and I knew that.  It’s the reason we’re able to have a roof over our heads and food on the table, as I’d been reminded so many times by Louise, but sometimes it was sad to think that a mother loved her job more than her own kids.  I mean, why couldn’t she just get a new job?

An image of me on my Mama’s lap appeared then in my mind. I was crying, begging her to stay just one more day.  She told me she had to work, but she’d be back soon.  I asked her why she couldn’t work someplace else, someplace closer to me.  She said some things just couldn’t change.

I sit up and stroll into the living room.  Teri is drawing something in her sketch pad.

“What’s that?”  I ask.

“None of your beeswax,” she says.  She’d made excellent use of the phrase ever since I told her what it meant.

“Whatever,” I say, but I can see over her shoulder that she has drawn Mama, her, and me smiling under a rainbow.  It isn’t hard to infer the message.

I kneel down next to Louise.  She looks half asleep, so I shake her gently.

“What?  What happened?  Are you alright?” she asks, looking around until her eyes meet mine. 

“Has Mama called lately?” I ask.

“No, not that I can remember.  But you go ahead and give her a ring if you’re feeling like it,” she slurs and dozes off.

“Teri, I’m gonna call Mama.  If she picks up, do you want to talk to her?” I ask.

“Sure, but I don’t think she will.  I tried calling her this morning and she didn’t answer, not that I care,” she says, even though she obviously does.  I stroll over to her and sit down in the empty chair next to her.

“What’s wrong?”  A tear rolls down her cheek.

“Is Mama ever coming back?”  she beseeches.  I can hardly understand her through the muffled sniffs.

“Yes, of course she is!  She’s just working right now.  Don’t worry, she’s coming back really soon.  I promise.”  I feel terrible promising her something I don’t know to be true.  I know it’s just a bandage on a much bigger problem, but solving that problem is a much more daunting task than I’m willing to take on right now.  I hate seeing Teri cry; all I want is for her to feel better.

“How do you know that?”  she blinks away tears.

“I talked to her on the phone yesterday.  She told me she misses you and is almost done with her trip, and when she comes back she’s going to stay for longer than she has been.”  I have just lied to Teri and feel guilty about it, and yet there is another one popping out of my mouth without even a thought.

“Really?”  Her eyes illuminate.  She’s starting to calm down.

“Yes!  She can’t wait to see you,” I say.  Teri smiles and wipes her nose.  Mission accomplished!  “I think it’s time for bed now.  I’m tired and I think you are too.”  I smile gently at her. Sometimes I feel more like a mother to Teri than a sister.

“Okay,” Teri pouts.  “But just for the record, I am not tired at all.”  She sighs.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re not,”  I say sarcastically and pick Teri up.

I carry Teri over to her bedroom and tuck her in.  Before I even shut the door I hear her snoring.

I come back out to the living room and dial Mama.  I need to know what’ going on, for Teri’s sake. 

The phone rings once, then twice, then three times, and then I lose count.  I slam the phone down.

“What’s going on?” Louise asks. 

“That’s what I want to know.  Where has Mama been?  Teri is starting to get worried and so am I.  She’s never been gone this long.  I mean, we haven’t seen her in at least a couple months,” I scream, frustrated.

“Lower your voice!  Teri’s sleeping.”  She pats the seat next to her.  “Sit down, hon’.  There’s something I haven’t told you guys.”  Louise sounds concerned.

“What’s wrong?  Did something happen to her?”  Worry courses through my veins.  I feel a chill tickle my skin,  making my hair stand on end.

“No, not to your Mama, but your Grandma’s been sick,” Louise says.  She starts to crease her eyebrows like she does when she’s about to say something she really doesn’t want to.  My heart starts to jump up and down like a kid playing hopscotch. I don’t really want to ask what I do next, but I know that I have to.

“Is she going to be okay?”  I stutter quickly, like ripping a band-aid off.

“She’s isn’t too well, ‘Vannah.  She might not make it too much longer.  Your Mama’s been staying with her and talking to the doctors down in Washington.  I’m so sorry, Love.”  The band-aid is officially off, and it stings.  My eyes fill up with tears.  I want to just let them spill out, but I feel the burning and blink them back.

Louise must see me struggling to hold it all in, because she motions for me to come over to her.  My whole body bursts as I sit on her warm, familiar lap and let it all out.  I’m shaking as I pour my long sobs into Louise.  I try to stay quiet, but it doesn’t work because out of the corner of my eye I see my sister standing in front of Louise. I sit up and wipe my nose and eyes.  Louise hands me a tissue. 

“What happened?  Are you okay?” Teri questions.  Her thin, blonde eyebrows rise in concern.

“I’m alright.  Listen, Teri.  Do you remember your Grandma Portia?”  I ask.

“Kind of.  Isn’t she Mama’s Mama?”  I can tell that Teri is wondering why any of this matters.

“Yes, that’s her.  So the reason that Mama has been away for so long is that she’s been with her Mama, Grandma Portia,” I reply.

“What? Why? She’s been with her instead of us?”  Teri quizzes me before I can finish my sentence.

“Well, yes, but she has good reason.  Grandma has been very ill.  She probably doesn’t have a lot of time left.  Mama has been staying with her at the hospital and talking to the doctors,”  I say.

“Really?”  Is all Teri could muster.  Her eyebrows rise and don’t move.  Her mouth opens slightly.  I think she is expecting me to say something like, “Mama doesn’t love us anymore, so she’s going to stay with Grandma.”  I have to admit, I’m pretty shocked too.  I can’t believe Grandma is actually gone forever.

“Yes,” Louise answers before I have the chance.  “I’m so sorry, girls, but she lived a long, happy life.  I know all of this is overwhelming right now, but it won’t seem so bad in the morning.  Why don’t we all get some rest?”  Louise can always make things better.  I breathe a deep sigh of relief.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”  Teri asks with exhaustion in her voice.

“Sure,”  I reply.  Teri outstretches her arms for me to pick her up, so I do.  I carry her back to my bedroom and set her against the cool wall.  She curls up against it and shuts her eyes.

“Good night,”  I say, not really knowing if she is still awake.

“Good nigh-...”  Teri mumbles back.

I open my eyes and stare at the pale ceiling, listening to the fan rumble.  I think about my fading memories of Grandma Portia.  I remember how jolly she always seemed.  I recall one time when I was visiting her at her house in Washington.  I was around Teri’s age.  She made me a root beer float and some popcorn and we watched a movie together, snuggled up on her worn, soft couch.  I don’t remember what the movie was about, whether I liked the root beer float, or if the popcorn had enough butter.  All I remember is the feeling I had in that moment, next to her.  I was at total peace.  My nose fills as I realize I’m never going to have that again, but I can’t cry now, not with Teri next to me. 

I turn over and wrap my arms around Teri.  As she sleeps in my arms, a feeling washes over me, the same feeling I felt in that moment with Grandma Portia.  I close my eyes, and somehow, everything’s alright.

-Casey Van Nostrand