Speed of Life (22 page)

Amber leans down and scoops her up, holding her close. “Hi, sweetie.” It hits me that this is probably the longest they've gone without seeing each other.

“She missed you.”

“Yeah, me too.” Amber kisses Nat's neck, making her giggle. “What did you feed her? I swear she weighs more than she did three days ago.”

“I know. Every time I pick her up it's hard to believe she's that milky little lump we brought home from the hospital.”

“No kidding.”

“So I've packed everything and we're ready to go.” I give my sister a big smile. It's a little fake. My heart's hammering in my chest. Until I get her in the car and we're on the road, I'm not going to relax. Amber looks around at the house and yard like she's actually sad to leave the dump. At her feet, the dog is head-butting her for attention, and she hands me Nat so she can give him a chin scratch.

“Is Gil here?”

“Nope. He actually went to work. I don't think he likes goodbyes. But Mom should be home pretty soon. We can wait if you want.”

She doesn't answer. She walks over to the car and looks in at all our stuff, and the expression on her face is so sad that it hurts my heart.

“Amber,” I say at the exact same time she says, “Crystal.”

I laugh. “You go first.”

The sadness in her eyes turns to fear, and she starts shaking her head. “I can't do this. I'm sorry. I can't leave. You're gonna have to go without me.”

“What?” Deep down, I knew this was coming, but I'd told myself over and over she wouldn't do this to me. My arms and legs are jelly, and I set Nat on the grass before I drop her. “I can't go without you. Is this because of Jade?”

Amber goes to the open trunk and starts dragging containers out of the car. “Is this all mine?”

“What are you doing?”

“Is this my stuff or yours?”

“Stop it, Amber!”

“I'm not going with you, Crystal. I want to stay here.”

“I've accepted my financial aid, quit my job, and rented an apartment. We're ready to go. It's too late to change your mind.”

She doesn't answer. Instead, she separates her things from mine, tossing her stuff into the yard. I touch her shoulder. “Amber?”

She sighs. “I know I'm letting you down, but I can't go with you.”

“You have to.”

“You're not listening,” she says. “You never listen to me.”

“That's so not fair.”

“Then why is college more important than the Glass Slipper?”

I knew it. I want to kill Aunt Ruby for making Amber a partner. “It's not more important. We're gonna do my thing, and then do yours. I promise.”

“I don't want to wait! Why can't you understand that?”

The arguing is making Natalie whimper, so I lower my voice. “This is all Jade's fault. She's been filling your head with all this shit about getting on with your own life. But she wants to keep you here. She's always trying to steal you from me.”

Amber runs her hands through her hair, tugging on it in frustration. “I'm a
person,
Crystal. I'm not something Jade can steal from you. You don't own me.”

“I know, I just—”

“Please. Try to understand what you're asking me to do.” She pulls the stroller out of the trunk, checking for more of her stuff. “Did I get everything?”

I move between her and the car, my hands on my hips. “So you're really gonna ruin this chance for me? For us?”

She sighs and picks up a Rubbermaid container, then heads for the house. I run after her and grab her arm. “Wait—”

When she turns on me, her eyes are full of anger. “Let me go.” I drop her arm because she looks like she might slug me. “I don't want to fight with you, Crystal. Why can't you let this be easy? Let me say goodbye, and then you two should go. It doesn't have to be a big scene.”

“Are you crazy? I can't take Natalie to college with me like she's a doll.”

“Sure you can,” she says. “You always have everything figured out, you'll figure this out, too.” She abandons the container on the steps and walks around me to the back of the car, picks up the stroller, and starts to stuff it in the trunk again.

“Stop it,” I say, pulling the stroller back out by a wheel. “What am I supposed to do with her in McPherson? Who's going to watch her? I don't know anyone.”

“If college is that important to you, then I guess you'll do what everyone else does: find some daycare and let me live my own life.”

“Fine.” I crawl in the passenger side of the car and get three of Nat's bags out of the back seat. “If you're not going, nobody is.”

“You're so wrong. You and Nat
are
going,” she says. “I never said getting your degree isn't a smart thing. It'll be good for all of us. There is no way I'm letting you give up now or you'll end up blaming me.”

I take two plastic bags of baby food out of the back seat and set them in the yard. “Well, that's because it's your fault! I was counting on you. I can't do it without you.”

“Yeah, you can. And you're gonna have to.”

When I turn around, Amber's trying to find room for the stroller in the front seat. It won't fit, and she's slamming it around like she wishes it was me.

“Would you stop putting stuff back in the car?” I yell at her as she bangs one of the handles against the dashboard. I grab the stroller and tug on it. “I'm not going anywhere.”

She yanks it away from me and tosses it into the street just as a guy on a bike goes by. “Fine! Don't take the goddamned thing,” Amber says. “I don't care. But you're still going.”

“You crazy bitch!” the bike guy yells.

“Bite me!” I yell back.

I go get the stroller. Back at the car, Amber's strapping a whimpering Natalie into her car seat.

I drop the stroller onto the growing pile on the lawn. “Amber! Stop it!” I grab her around the waist and pull her out of the car. She lands on the ground and Bonehead immediately jumps on her, barking and licking her hair like it's some sort of game. I climb into the car and unstrap Natalie, who reaches out and grabs my ponytail, yanking so hard that I yelp, which makes her start crying for real. In the yard, Amber's yelling at Bonehead to get off her, and by the time I've got Natalie out of the car and my hair free, my sister's managed to get out from under the dog and has run inside the house.

I set a screeching Nat down next to Bonehead, who licks her face and makes her cry harder. Her piercing shrieks are too much for him, and he plops down and howls along with her, which gets Mr. Hendricks in on the action.

“It's seven o'clock in the goddamned morning! I swear to God I'm gonna call the cops if you don't shut the hell up over there!”

I'm too intent on unloading our stuff to tell him where to stick his phone. Amber returns, sees Nat's clothes on the lawn, and puts them back in the car. I race around to the driver's side and pull them out. “Amber—”

“Save your breath,” she says, scooping up Natalie and shoving her into her car seat like she's a stuffed animal or something.

I climb into the back seat from the driver's side and try to push Amber out the other door. The whole time, Natalie's between us, yelling, “No! No! No!”

“She's going with you!” Amber grabs the cooler, which I've managed to pull out of the back seat, and runs around and stuffs it in the trunk. I climb out, lifting Natalie as carefully as I can, and she slaps at my arms with her tiny hands, screaming. After I set her down, I snag the cooler while Amber shoves the Nordstrom shopping bags full of Nat's clothes into the trunk.

It's already hot outside, and her face is as red as her hair. Mine probably is too. Amber elbows me out of the way, hard, making me suck in my breath. I can feel sweat dripping down inside my T-shirt. “Would you stop it?” I slam the trunk closed so she can't put anything else in it. “I told you I'm not going, and even if I was, I can't take her with me!”

“You have to. She's
your
—”

“Don't say it!” I lunge, trying to get a hold of my sister, and she ducks out of my sweaty grip.

In a taunting voice she says, “Don't say what?”

“Amber, please? Please don't. Please?”

“What don't you want me to say, Crys?” I grab at her again, and her face is mean and spiteful. “Huh? Crystal? What?” I'm holding her now, my arms pinning her against me. She's struggling like a caught fish, but she still won't shut up. “You don't want me to say she's your daugh—”

I clamp my hand over Amber's mouth. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”

She fights me off, biting my hand, pinching my arms, until I release her, and then she shoves me hard, sending me tripping over Bonehead, who yelps and starts barking again. Standing over me, her hands on her hips, she says, “You can't just walk away—”

“YOU PROMISED!” I scream, my voice breaking into a sob.

“What I promised is to
help
you, but you can't abandon her like this. Goddammit, Crystal, you're her
mother!
It's time you stop pretending that she dropped out of the fucking sky when the stork flew over our house by accident!”

Nat's cries have turned to whimpers, and tears are streaming down all of our faces.

“I called the cops!” Mr. Hendricks shouts at us.

Amber starts up again. “You have to take—”

“Please, Amber. Please? Please, I'm begging you . . .” In the distance we hear the wail of a siren, which sets Bonehead howling again. I don't hear Amber's response over the noise. “What did you say?” I ask. My throat's choked with tears.

Amber looks at me, her face softening. “You know what? You're right. You can't take her with you. Just leave us. I'll take care of her. Go do what you have to do.”

I lock eyes with her while all around us the world sounds like it's coming apart: Mr. Hendricks yelling, Natalie crying, Bonehead yowling, and the sirens getting closer and closer. When I don't move, she pulls me up and physically shoves me into the car, slamming the door. I sit there, gripping the steering wheel, wanting to stay, wanting to go. As much as I love Natalie, every time I look at her, I remember how I'm the one who screwed up the plan. How I'm the reason we almost dropped out of high school junior year. How I'm the fuck-up in this family, not Amber. And I can't deal with that. Not back when Nat was born, not now.

In my heart, I know Natalie's better off with Amber than with me. I start the engine, and before I back the Mustang out of the driveway, I look over at my sister. She's got her back to me, and she scoops up Natalie, unhooks Bonehead, and drags him into the house, shutting the door behind her, not even looking at me.

Fine. If this is how she wants it, this is how it's gonna be. I peel out of the driveway. At the end of the street, I pass a cop car heading for our house. He's turned off his sirens now that he's so close, but his lights are still flashing. I don't even slow down, daring him to pull a U-turn and follow me, but he doesn't. For the first time in my life, I'm on my own.

When I get to I-205, I decide to go south to California like David wanted me to. It's me and a car built for speed now, so what the hell? But as soon as I'm on the freeway, I'm stuck in rush-hour traffic. I turn up the radio until it shakes the car, trying to block out the words Amber promised me she'd never say. I could turn around and go back, but the police are probably still there and we all might get in trouble. I don't want to see her right now anyway. I'm so hurt she broke her promise.

As traffic crawls along, I'm able to slowly build up my wall of defense again. I've had so much practice not thinking about how we ended up with Natalie that after a while, all I hear, think, feel is the pulse of the music and the hum of the engine. Finally, after an hour and a half of creeping along, I reach I-5. Traffic's sluggish all the way to Salem, but then it picks up and I'm on my way. By now I'm not thinking about anything except driving.

The Mustang flies along and, for once, I have total control of everything in my life—​the car, my thoughts, the future. All I have to do is stay on this road and keep heading south—​the wheels eating up the asphalt, the open road ahead.

I'm a city driver and I've never driven much on the interstate. The speed of the highway is truly awesome, and the Mustang rises to the occasion, embracing the freedom as much as I do. I feel myself detach from my body and float above, watching myself drive, like when I play video games with Han. From my perch above the road, I see the Mustang weave in and out of traffic, passing semis, taking curves with the ease of a professional driver. The miles melt away, putting distance between me and Amber. And Natalie. The farther I go, the freer I am.

I drive.

And I drive.

And I drive.

Sometime in the afternoon, my ghost body registers that my physical body is shaking from hunger, and I float down and rejoin myself as I pull into a rest stop. I get out of the car—​​legs stiff, muscles tight—​and try to shake off the tension. After I take a pee, I see some volunteers giving away coffee to help keep drivers awake, and I down two Styrofoam cups full of the sharp, bitter stuff. An old woman with lavender hair tries to talk to me, ask me where I'm headed, but I blow her off and go back to the car. The last thing I want to do is talk to anybody.

A couple of guys are checking out the Mustang, and when they ask about the engine, I answer by rote the questions that usually get my heart pumping with excitement. I open the hood for them and lean against the hot metal of the car, eating a slice of cold pizza from the box Gil brought home last night for our . . . my . . . road trip.

Eventually the guys run out of questions and my lunch is gone, so I get back into the Mustang and peel out, burning a little rubber to impress them. When me and Amber originally planned our route, we thought we should break it up into easy stretches. We'd never really been out of Portland, and it seemed like it might be fun to take our time and see some stuff. The trip was supposed to take six days to McPherson. Now I'm on my own and I don't have to stop for anything. I fly by Ashland, this little town that's so famous for its Shakespeare festival that even I've heard of it. I don't know how long it takes everyone else to get here from Portland, but I do it in four and a half hours. Go, me.