“There’s a small cabin just off of the road that goes out to Raccoon Point,” she said. She looked tired, her nerves strung out. I couldn’t imagine the stress that must have been her life. “It looks like the owner’s left a few weeks ago.”
I wished I could have offered to let her put the motorhome in our backyard. But that would send up the red flag to my parents, and then social services would have to get involved. And then she’d be gone.
Wish I would have known. I would have come and helped you.
“Don’t think that would have been a good idea,” she said, though an appreciative smile spread on her face. “With as much school as you’ve missed this year. I’ve got a lot to catch up on what I missed just today. I told all my teachers my mom was sick today so I had to help her out.”
I gave a sad smile. What happened to me was bad, but at least I didn’t have to lie out of necessity all the time.
You want to come over to my place and work on homework?
I wrote.
Mom’s making enchiladas tonight.
She laughed as she read it, throwing her arms around me. It felt like my entire body finally relaxed, relief flooding through me. Maybe everything hadn’t been ruined.
“I’d love to,” she said. I was surprised when she looked at me again to see there were tears pooled in her eyes. My brow furrowed to ask her
what was wrong
? She just gave a cut off laugh, a few tears breaking free from her eyes. She wiped at them with the back of her hand. “It was just a stressful day, you know? I feel like I can’t ever relax, always afraid I’m going to get caught. And I can’t afford to miss school and let my grades slip.”
I pulled Sam into my arms again, hugging her tightly. I could feel all the pain she was in, as if it clung to her like a heavy, itchy wool sweater. She relaxed in my arms, almost as if she was relieved to have me holding her together for just a few moments and not have to do it herself.
I stepped away from her.
Come on,
I wrote.
Let’s go.
I set our backpacks in the back seat and we both climbed in. As soon as I started pulling out of the parking lot, Sam slid her hand into mine, our fingers intertwining. She squeezed my hand tightly, as if she were afraid if she let go, she’d crumble.
19 weeks ‘til Sam’s birthday
It was amazing, how easily Sam fit in with my family. I’d brought her home with me and everyone went out of their way to say hi to her. And everything just felt so… normal. Sam talked with Jordan for a second, and then she and I went into my room and worked on homework. And we did actually work. There was no pressure in the air to have to do anything physical; it didn’t feel weird that we were in my room alone together.
It felt like something we’d done a hundred times before.
Just like she was a part of the family, Mom set a place for her at the dinner table and she ate with the lot of us.
I took her home that night and kissed her good-bye just once. Her lips tasted like cherry.
But something felt… off at school the next day. Sam was still friendly, she still smiled that smile she only smiled at me. We still sat next to each other during class. But she never did slip her hand into mine. She never came with me to The Market for lunch. She’d just quietly say she needed to do some homework in the library.
Sam was just… distant.
And I honestly wasn’t sure how to react. I felt like I was being whiplashed. Any time we were alone or at my house, she was the sweet girl who felt like my girlfriend, who held my hand and kissed me, and ran her fingers through my hair absentmindedly. But at school, she felt like nothing more than a really nice girl who was my friend.
Considering what she was currently dealing with, I didn’t dare push her about it. She was already trying to balance so much in her life, I wasn’t going to make things worse. And I could make it through the agonizing school Sam for the intoxicating after-school Sam.
She didn’t come over to my house on Tuesday and Thursday since Kali always came over on those days. He was already at the house when I arrived at home. He suggested a walk and together we set out down our road.
The very-end-of-November chill bit at my skin, all the moisture in the air making it feel colder than it actually was. The last of the fall leaves barely clung to the non-evergreen trees, a prelude to their dead winter skeletal selves. The island felt different in the winter. Things slowed down, more so than normal island time. All the tourists left, all the snow bird residents went to warmer places. The people who stayed were true islanders, appreciating Orcas’ beauty even when it was dark sixteen hours of the day.
Already as Kali and I walked down the road, at only quarter to four, it was starting to get dark through the overcast clouds above us. There was actually a chance of snow that night if it got cold enough.
How was school today?
Kali signed. I actually understood everything Kali’s hands said.
Okay,
I signed back.
How was your day?
Cold,
he signed with a chuckle.
The bike isn’t very warm in the winter.
I chuckled too, watching Kali’s dark, smiling face. I couldn’t help but wonder at Kali whenever I was around him. I didn’t think I’d ever met a person who had so little, but was so happy at the same time. I had never heard him complain; never saw his face without the hints of a smile.
Where do you live?
I suddenly signed, not even thinking about what I was asking.
Kali’s eyes grew sad for a moment, falling away from my hands and face. He was quiet for a long time and I realized he wasn’t going to answer.
Tell me more about your sister,
I signed, not really sure I even did half of it right.
I must not have done too bad, cause Kali started talking about her non-stop.
8 months ‘til graduation
18 weeks ‘til Sam’s birthday
After dinner that night, I lagged behind in the kitchen with Mom, watching from the bar as she did dishes. I was only half seeing her, my eyes glazed over as I thought about the conversation I’d had with Kali earlier.
“Something on your mind, sweetie?” Mom asked, her arms covered up to her elbows in bubbles as she washed a pan.
I shrugged, and reached for one of the dozens of notebooks I left lying around the house.
Just thinking about Kali,
I wrote, holding it up for Mom to see.
“Oh yeah?” she said, her eyes turning back to her work. “What about Kali?”
I don’t think he has anywhere to live,
I scribbled.
I’m pretty sure he sleeps in a tent. I saw it in his bike trailer today as he left.
Mom was quiet for a while, her eyes focusing on something outside the window above the sink.
“It’s getting awfully cold out there these days,” she said, sounding far away.
I’m worried about him,
I wrote. I had to wait almost a full minute for Mom to look over and read what I had written.
Slow-mo conversations.
Mom’s eyes lingered on my words for a long time, like she was considering something very serious.
Finally, when she still didn’t say anything, I clicked open my pen again.
Our loft is pretty big.
Mom’s eyes lingered on my words again, slowly going from them to my face, and back again. And then a small smile spread on her face as she rinsed the pan.
“I’ll have to talk to your dad about it,” she said, drying her hands off and walking over to the bar. She rested her elbows on the countertop and placed her chin in her balled up fists. “But I think that’s a really good idea. Just until spring though.”
I leaned across the counter and gave Mom an awkward hug, as best I could manage with a three-foot counter between us.
“I’m really proud of you, Jake,” Mom said, squeezing me tightly. “You could have taken life so differently after everything you’ve been through. But you’re becoming a man. You amaze me every day.”
Mom backed away from me slightly, looking me in the eye, a smile spreading on her face. I smiled back as she pressed a brief kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to go talk to your father,” she said quietly. Giving me one more brief smile, she turned and headed up to their bedroom.
I had to admit to myself, having Kali live in our house would be weird. But how could I feel okay about myself, knowing there was someone out there that needed our help, and not try and offer it?
18 weeks ‘til Sam’s birthday
3 days ‘til the party
Per Rain’s request, I invited Jordan to the beach party on Saturday. She’d been reluctant at first, but I had a feeling most of that was because she remembered what the last school party had resulted in. But to my surprise, she agreed to it when she found out Rain was going to be there.
It was easy to tell there wasn’t much to do on our little island that time of year. All anyone could talk about was the party on Saturday. Normally a chance of snow might kill plans for an outdoor party, but not on Orcas. It almost guaranteed that everyone would be there.
So do you want to go to the party on Saturday?
I wrote in our notebook during ASL.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a party,
Sam wrote back. I suddenly missed our letters back and forth in the back of the notebook. It had been a while since we’d written any. I was still trying not to push Sam.
You should come,
I said.
It will be fun.
From what I hear, everyone is sticking to their ‘no drinking’ pledges,
she wrote
. Should be semi-safe to go.
So is that a yes?
Sam’s eyes met mine, and finally, a small smile spread on her face. She nodded. I couldn’t help but smile back.
Yet a hard ball settled into my stomach. Was I going to get the standoff-ish school Sam, or the after-school Sam that I loved?
Well, Kali is all moved in. We sectioned off a small part of the loft by moving the entertainment center out from the wall, and then shifted some other stuff around too so there’s this little space back there for Kali to sleep and put some of his stuff. Kali isn’t around too much, mostly just comes back to sleep and sometimes he stays for dinner. Then he helps Mom and Dad out whenever he can.
It’s kind of weird, but it feels good to be helping out someone who needs it. Guess it took Mom and Dad quite a while to convince him to move in.
The other day Kali asked me what I wanted to do with my life, what I wanted to do after high school. The answer had always been pretty simple before. I was going into the Air Force. I was going to be a pilot and serve my country.
I don’t really know now. It would be easy to get pissed off at the universe for changing my plans, but what good is that going to do me?
Maybe I’ll do something with computers, that doesn’t require much talking. Or maybe I’ll work with animals. They won’t mind or think I’m broken. I really have no idea. Guess I should start thinking about that. I am a senior, people expect you to start having an answer to the future question.