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THREE
My first day of school was probably the most exciting day of my life up till then. I got up at daybreak; my mother wasn’t even awake. I hadn’t slept all night from a combination of nerves and excitement. I got up and put on my school clothes; the white blouse, white bobby socks, and black, white, and gray plaid jumper. It was bland, I realized, but I had to wear it anyway. The first day I wore it, though, it represented my entry into a world I had never before seen. I was going to school and, for the first time, I’d be with Jimmy all day.
I remember Mom telling Jimmy at breakfast to make sure I found my class all right, to look out for me, all the normal big-brother stuff. She finished putting my hair into the braid I wanted, told me I looked divine, then asked him again for his word. He assured Mom that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me, and we ran out the door. Jimmy ran faster than I did, and eventually he realized this, picking me up on his back and letting me stay there until we got to St. Anne’s.
When we got to St. Anne’s, I looked at my new surroundings, my eyes wide. The school building itself had to be nearly four stories tall, and as it had to house every grade from 1st grade up though 12th grade, rightly so. I looked across the way at the church. It was the same one we attended every Sunday – I’d just never seen it from this angle before.
I clung to Jimmy’s hand. He looked down at me, smiling. “Scared, Abby?” When I nodded, he gave my hand a tiny squeeze. “It’s okay. I’ll show you where your class is.” I smiled; Jimmy could be so sweet sometimes.
When the bell rang, I jumped a mile. It was unnerving; I had never heard it before. Jimmy noticed my fright and squeezed my hand again. “It’s okay, Abby,” he said with a smile. “It’s just the bell; we can go find your class now.” I nodded mutely. It was not fear that kept me silent, just apprehension. I was just nervous about starting school.
Jimmy led me into the school’s first floor hallway. Within a moment or two, we located the first grade rooms and Jimmy had found my name on a list just outside of room 1. He smiled.
“This is your class,” he said. “Your teacher is Miss Gilson.” Jimmy led me inside to where a lady was standing. She turned to us after she had finished speaking to a father and his young son.
“Good morning, James!” she cooed at my brother. “What brings you back here?” She was nearly cowering in fear and I couldn’t help but wonder why.
“I’m dropping off my little sister,” he said. He prodded me forward and I moved. “This is Abby.”
She looked at me as though God could not be as cruel as this, to give her charge over me. “Well, James, thank you for dropping her off. Your class is upstairs, room 7, I believe.”
I turned to Jimmy. “You’re not staying with me?”
He shook his head. “I can’t; I have to go to class too, Abby. But I’ll see you at recess.” And then, before I could say another word, he was gone.
My first day of school only went downhill from there. I was so scared without Jimmy; I’d never been alone in such a strange place without him. But I had to face it; I knew he wasn’t going to be there forever.
The first thing my teacher had done after Jimmy left was to put me in the very back of the room, though I was probably the shortest child in her whole class. And it made absolutely no sense; she sat us in alphabetical order (not that I knew what that meant at the time), but between Cassidy and Degridye, she skipped me and just added me on at the end. I didn’t know what she meant by it then, but soon found out.
My brother, I found out that day, had been such a living nightmare to her that it earned him the very same seat she now placed me in. Since I was Jimmy’s little sister, she had no doubt in her mind that I would be the exact same way as my brother.
At recess, I saw Jimmy talking to his friends; three guys and a couple of girls. As soon as I was out of Miss Gilson’s sight, I ran to him. I grabbed his sleeve, but before he could turn, one of his friends looked at me and laughed.
“See, Jimmy, even the first grade girls wanna date you!” The rest of them laughed at this as Jimmy turned. When he saw me, he flushed bright scarlet, and I had to wonder why on earth my brother was so damn embarrassed to see me.
“Abby, what do you want?” he asked.
Before I could answer him, one of the girls looked over at me and said, “Aw, Jimmy, is that your little sister?”
He turned his head to her and nodded, still blushing. “Yeah, this is Abby.” Then he turned back to me. “What do you want? Quickly, now, Abby, we were doing something kind of important.” His cheeks began to turn back to their normal color, his mahogany eyes still staring at me. “What do you want?”
“Can I come hang out with you?” I said meekly. Why was he acting as if I had the plague?
He stared at me. “We’re playing big people games, Abby. You might get hurt. So no, go play with your own friends.” He turned his back on me and went back to talking with his friends.
I sauntered away very sadly, arms crossed over my chest, feeling rejected. What had happened to the Jimmy I knew? Where was that protective older brother that was supposed to love me and entertain me? I sat down, my back against a tree, watching him and his group from across the playground. He looked so happy, sitting there with them, talking about things I probably wouldn’t understand. Jimmy had never treated me this way before, and to have done so now, when I needed him most, was appalling.
Since the moment I had sat down that morning, I had not been allowed to talk, Miss Gilson fearing “another Cohen joke.” I took this to mean that Jimmy had been a class clown of sorts. I was certain I would be an angel, and I’d make her see it too. But because I hadn’t said a word to anyone, I’d made no friends. Not one child near me now wished to talk to me, including my own brother.
Just then, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to the girl. “Hi,” she said pleasantly. “My name’s Caidyn Johnson. What’s yours?” She had a nice smile, and her pretty blonde hair was pulled into two pigtails.
“Abigail Cohen,” I said, smiling back.
“You wanna be best friends?” she said quickly, still smiling.
I nodded, happy, and she sat down next to me and began to talk with me about random things. We started with our families. She had four siblings: Alex, Bryn, Darcy, and Eleanor. The rest of her siblings went to Abergavenny Academy, the public school in town. Alex and Darcy were twins and were in third grade; Bryn was in fifth grade. Eleanor, however, was not attending school yet; she was only three years old. Her mother, Joyce, worked for the city, and her father, John, was a firefighter.
Then the talk turned to my family. My father, Kevin, had been dead for several years, but before his death, he had been a cop. My mother, Grace, worked at home; she was an accountant. “And my brother,” I said, pointing toward Jimmy, “is right over there.” I grinned as she looked. Then she looked back at me quickly.
“Is he the cute redhead?” The grin on her face was a mile wide.
“No,” I said, still pointing, “he’s the brown-haired one.”
She looked again. “The straight-haired one?”
“Nope, the one with the curls.”
She looked back at me and grinned. “He’s cute!”
We both giggled as I said “Ew!” I would never have thought of my brother as cute before. To me, he was just Jimmy, my older brother. There was nothing cute about him – or, at least, I didn’t think so.
But soon recess was over, and Caidyn and I had to return to class with Miss Gilson. I didn’t want to, of course. Who would want to return to a class with a teacher who didn’t allow you to talk? But I knew there was no way around it, so I went willingly back to my seat and was silent.
That is, until she asked a question I knew the answer to.
She stood in front of our class, asking math questions. When she finally wrote an equation on the board and asked if anyone could solve it, I raised my hand. I could answer what two plus four was; Jimmy had taught me basic math last year.
She went off on seeing my hand raised. “Abigail Cohen, what did I tell you? You are not allowed to speak, so put your hand down, child! I won’t have another Cohen making fun of me!” I meekly put my hand down, wondering why she wouldn’t give me a chance. I wasn’t going to make a joke; after all, I wasn’t Jimmy or Evan.
Not too long after this, the bell rang for us to be dismissed. I packed up my notebooks and pencils, ready to leave, when the most dreaded sound occurred. “Abigail,” Miss Gilson said, “come here.” I walked to her desk, not sure why I was being summoned. She folded up a piece of paper and handed it to me. “Give this to your mother when you get home,” she said. “Don’t open it before then or you’ll go straight to Hell.”
Well of course, talk such as that will scare an impressionable six-year-old. I raced out of the room, clutching the note, determined not to open it. When I met Jimmy on the bus, he looked at me funny, then realized what I was holding. “Gilson already gave you a note?” he said. I nodded quietly, tears in my eyes. I wasn’t a bad kid; I knew I wasn’t. “Don’t worry,” he said, stroking my hair. “Mom won’t go ballistic on you unless you tried to kill her.” I didn’t want to know how Jimmy knew that.
When I handed the note to my mother, her eyes went wide. “Abigail!” she said, taking it. “What on Earth do you have a note for?” Then she read it, quietly, eyes growing wider and wider. “You refused to follow instructions and were a general disruption to the class?” She stared at me. “Don’t become your brother, Abby. You’re supposed to be my good child.”
“Hey,” Jimmy said from behind me. “That’s mean, Mom.”
“But true,” she said, smiling, ruffling his curls. “You’re my little nuisance.” Then her attention turned back to me. “Now, young lady,” she said, the smile dropping from her face. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything!” I said quickly, tears forming in my eyes. “I just wanted to answer a question and she wouldn’t let me. She sat me in the back and told me not to talk so I didn’t except that she asked a question I knew and I wanted to answer it, so…”
Jimmy stopped me mid-sentence. “Wait a sec – Gilson sat you in my seat?” I nodded. He looked at our mom. “Mom, I think she’s got it out for Abby just because she’s my little sister.”
Mom nodded. “Yeah, I think so too.” Within minutes, Mom was on the phone with the headmistress of St. Anne’s, Sister Anne Clemens. It was only after being assured that something would be done about Miss Gilson that my mom finally hung up. “Don’t you worry anymore, baby,” my mom said, hugging me. “She’s gonna be nicer to you now or she’ll lose her job.”
I smiled. My mom always knew how to get things done.
As soon as the bell had dismissed us, I gathered up my things and set off for the auditorium, where the costume fittings would be. As I walked into the auditorium, I heard Sister Anne’s voice ring out. “Where is Evan? Evan Cohen, where are you?” I watched from the back as Evan walked over to her. “There has been a slight change of plans, Evan. Unfortunately, you will not be able to play Joseph this year. I’ve assigned that role to James Cohen.”
I smiled; Jimmy was going to play Joseph? I’d seen the Christmas pageant, and the sheep always stood right behind Joseph. Not only would I be onstage with my brother, I’d be right next to him.
“That’s not fair!” Evan was screaming. “You promised this year I’d play Joseph! Every year it’s a fourth grader!”
“Well I’ve decided that the older students can’t just play minor roles anymore. After all, Mary is always played by a tenth grader. Maybe it’s time Joseph’s role caught up to it. You will still be in the pageant, Evan. You are one of the Three Kings.”
“I was Caspar last time!”
“Well, then this time you’ll be Balthasar! And you can use the same costume, too. You haven’t grown too much.” Evan threw up his hands; he knew he’d lost. I spotted Jimmy, smiling serenely at Sister Anne. He looked like a saint, so of course he could play one. Evan came over to me, grumbling.
“Do you believe that? She passes me up for Jimmy? Like he could ever be believable as Joseph.”
“I think he can do it, Evan.”
He looked at me. “Yeah, I know you do. You’re loyal to him, all right. How about you just watch me get even with them both?”
“Evan, don’t be mean.”
“Watch me,” he mumbled, walking out. I was worried, but not too much. Evan was mostly hot air when it came to stuff like this.
When Sister Anne called for the animals to be fitted, I walked over and she looked at me. “Well, well, my lucky day, is it? Abigail Cohen is in my school.” I smiled at her. “You know, young lady, your brother is very impressed with you.” I couldn’t stop smiling, but now I was sure I was blushing. She looked up toward my brother. “James, why don’t you go take your sister for her fitting?” He took my hand and led me over to where two girls were standing with tape measures.
He gestured to a redheaded girl. “Abby, this is Vanessa Shaughnessy. She’s a very good friend of mine. She’ll take good care of you.” Vanessa took my hand and led me behind a screen that blocked the other people from looking at me.
“Okay, now sweetie, what part are you playing?”
“Miss Gilson said I was going to be a sheep.”
She looked at me, smiling. “And an adorable little lamb you’ll be. I know the other two sheep. We’ve got my younger brother Seamus as the ram, and his girlfriend Quenby Adams is the ewe.” She jotted a few notes down on a legal pad. “They’re part of your brother’s group. They’ll take real good care of you.” She started taking my measurements, which took all of maybe two minutes, then led me back out to Jimmy.
“Thanks, doll.”
“No problem, stud.” They grinned at each other as Jimmy led me out of the auditorium. We walked to the front door and started walking toward home. We were halfway home before I said anything.
“Jimmy? Why did Sister Anne replace Evan?”
He thought for a second. “I don’t know, Abby. I guess she just decided to change the cast. She has her reasons, I’m sure.”
“But don’t you feel bad?”
“Oh, not the slightest little bit.” Even then, Jimmy didn’t have the slightest idea what modesty was.
“Why not?”
“Well, Sister Anne usually does what she thinks is best for the group. Besides, Evan will get his chance. Sister Anne never lets someone play the same character twice in a row.”
“She made Evan one of the Three Kings again, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, but he’s a different one.” He looked at me as we started up the sidewalk to our house. “So what part did you get?”
I looked at him proudly. “I’m a sheep.”
He stared at me. “You’re playing the lamb?”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “Is it a good part?”
He didn’t answer, but walked into the house calling for Mom. She was sitting at the table. “Mom, Abby’s playing the lamb in the pageant!”
She stared at me. “Is that true, my little one?”
I nodded. “Is it a good part?” I repeated.
Jimmy looked at me. “Sister Anne picks out all the roles that mean something, and that’s one of them. Abby, you know what they call Jesus, right?”
“The Lamb of God.”
“You’re playing the lamb, right?”
“Yeah.” It finally clicked. “Oh, cool!”
“Abby, you get to lead one of the songs.” Jimmy looked at me. “Do you think you can do it?”
“What song?”
“Well…it changes every time around, so this time it’s probably…‘O Holy Night’…oh crap.” He stared at me. “Stealing my glory, huh, Abby?”
I felt a tear start. “I don’t mean to.”
“I’m teasing you, Abby,” he said, reaching down to tickle me.
The next day at rehearsals, I caught Evan grumbling at Jimmy during a run-through of their scenes. My line was simple enough to remember that I didn’t need to go over it ten million times. Vanessa (who was playing Mary) would say “The Lamb of God is born to us today,” and that was my cue to bleat as much like a lamb as I could. At the end of the play, I would begin a rousing chorus of “Angels We Have Heard On High,” which Sister Anne had changed the required song into, fearing Jimmy would be mad at me for singing the same song that he had last year at the concert.
Every day after school we rehearsed. We rehearsed until our feet felt ready to fall off. Finally, one afternoon, Sister Anne asked us to do the very last scene, the song included. I was nervous. I’d never actually sung in my life. We did the lines, with me bleating every time someone referenced the Lamb of God. At last, the song was cued, and I opened my mouth to sing – and nothing came out. Jimmy turned and looked at me, along with most of the cast. “Abby, go for it,” he said. “Belt it.”
The piano cued me in again, and I opened my mouth again. Again, nothing, not even a burp. I swallowed, the piano cued me in once more, and I opened my mouth with the first line – and it came out. I belted the song clear to the rear of the auditorium without a microphone, and Sister Theresa in the very last row let her eyes go wide when she heard my voice. When the cast was supposed to join in, no one made a sound. I let my voice trail off, embarrassed. Was I horrible?
“Oh, my God,” I heard Jimmy whisper. “Oh, wow.” His eyes were wide. No one else said a word; everyone just stared at me.
“Am I that bad?” I whispered after a few seconds, my head bowed.
“Bad?” Sister Anne said. “Bad isn’t the word, Miss Cohen.” I looked at her; I was horrible. “Bad doesn’t even come to mind.”
“Abby,” Jimmy said, smiling. “I think you got the family gift.”
Evan was smiling at me too. “Dang, girl, I think you hit the rafters with that ‘Gloria’ stuff.” I knew I was blushing as everyone else started in with praise.
Jimmy didn’t stop praising me until I went to bed.
Christmas Eve finally rolled around, and the family gathered at the house to wish us luck. We made the same trip as the year before, but this time when we arrived at St. Anne’s, Jimmy took my hand and led me backstage with him. Once backstage, he helped me put on my costume. “Gosh, you’re tiny,” he said, zipping me up the back. “When are you gonna grow?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you water me like a flower and we’ll see?” Even then, I was hanging around the boys too much. I was turning into a smart-ass just like them. But at least my brother laughed.
“Now who’s the silly one, Abby?” he asked me, using Mom’s mascara to paint the tip of my nose black. As soon as he’d finished, I spotted two other people in white wooly costumes making their way over to me. Jimmy saw them, too. “Ah, you guys finally got here!” He gestured to them. “Abby, this is Quenby Adams and Seamus Shaughnessy. They’re two of my best friends and they’ll take care of you, okay?” I nodded.
“Aw, Jimmy, she’s so adorable!” Quenby said, crouching down to look at me. “And that voice, Abby – trés amazing.” I smiled at her, blushing.
“Nice touch with the mascara, Cohen,” Seamus said, looking at me but talking to Jimmy. “Really gives her that ‘I am lamb, hear me bleat’ look.”
I giggled. I’d be fine with these two. Jimmy looked at me. “I’ve got to go get into costume now, okay? You’ll be fine, right?” I nodded. He kissed my forehead. “I’m proud of you already. Now just sit back and relax. You’ll be fine.” He dashed off to find his costume.
I sat talking with Quenby and Seamus till we were called to our places. I followed them onstage dutifully, looking for Evan, but I didn’t see him. I had wanted to wish him luck. Sister Anne was finishing a pep talk to the main cast, then departed, informing us “Two minutes!”
Jimmy saw me coming and hugged me quickly, his makeup and costume perfect. “You’re gonna do fine, all right? Just don’t think about the audience when you’re singing. Just imagine I’m the only one listening to you, all right?” I nodded. He knew exactly how to calm me down.
After what seemed like an hour, the curtain went up to lots of loud applause. The play began, the animals milling around and looking into the manger, Jimmy and Vanessa kneeling by it. It went smoothly; no one forgot their lines, no one messed up. Right on cue, Jimmy called for the Three Kings to appear, and they did – well, rather, two of the Three Kings appeared. Evan wasn’t with them. Jimmy chuckled quietly, then said his line again, and then again, expecting Evan to appear.
And appear he did.
Just as Jimmy finished his line for the third time, Evan came racing out of the wing, completely naked. He paused for a second, facing the audience, then screamed, “I’M BABY JESUS!” and tore off the other side. There was a lot of screaming, some giggling, but above all this I could hear Sister Anne.
“Oh, my God!”
I had to laugh. Evan had succeeded in making a nun scream the one phrase you’d never think you’d hear out of one. I giggled as a few of the cast members started making jokes.
“Is his middle name Richard or something?”
“Jeez, he’s a freakin’ tripod!”
“Too bad his name isn’t Johnson.”
“Evan the handyman, just the right tool for the job.”
“Showing off the Cohen family jewels…”
“His favorite bird must be the woodpecker…”
“Must be the bell going off again…ding dong…”
“He must work for the postal service. Brought Sister Anne a package…”
Amid all the laughter, Jimmy turned to me. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”
If I’d known his microphone was still on and super-sensitive, I would have kept my mouth shut. “Jimmy, the human wang is a beautiful thing.” He gaped at me, trying to cover his microphone, but it was too late.
I actually heard my mother’s scream.
And I had actually thanked him. The play had been dismissed right after his “unseemly display,” eliminating my need to sing. Although according to my mother, I was still the cutest little lamb she’d ever seen.
The two boys finally came out of the office. Evan looked as though he was suppressing laughter. Jimmy looked ashamed. I heard Sister Anne call me in, and I tried once more to catch my brother’s eye. But he wouldn’t look at me. I walked into Sister Anne’s office.
“I am very disappointed in you,” she started. “I expect such things from those two, but not from the young lady of the family. Do try to act better.” And that was it. That was my lecture; my first run-in with being a troublemaker. I decided I didn’t really like it. On my way back to my classroom, I vowed never to be like Jimmy.
Jimmy’s birthday in February, however, was a little more of a big thing. He was turning thirteen. He was officially a teenager. There was a huge cake for his birthday (which, of course, I got not one piece), and he got a ton of presents. But even that special birthday for him seemed to fade away from his memory come April.
As I write, I realize my roommate is staring over my shoulder, taking in every word I type. I quickly shut the lid of my computer, but not before she asks the question I’ve been dreading all day. “Whatcha writin’ now?”
I don’t want to answer, but somehow my mouth just can’t help itself. “A book,” I say shortly.
“What kind of book?” She smiles as she sits at her desk, staring at me with interested eyes. “And why are you writing a book? Don’t you have papers due like, this week?”
I pick up a pad and pen, getting up and heading for the door. “I’m sorry, Nathalie; I don’t wanna talk about it.” She sighs as I leave the room, but I don’t care too much. My aching heart is too weighed down in grief. I head for the TV lounge, hoping to God that there is no one down there. But God ignores me yet again in my life; practically the entire floor is watching a movie on DVD. It’s a classic horror movie, but the name eludes me. The killer looks a lot like the captain from that really old sci-fi TV show, but he’s way too pale…and I think it’s a mask, anyway. As I sit at the table with my pad and begin to write, Makisi gives me a strange look. “Another song?” he asks.
“Nope, a book.” God, I hate being honest.
“About what?” he asks. The movie is paused and every eye in the room is suddenly on me.
“Yeah,” Nathalie says, appearing from down the hall. “What’s it about?”
I can feel my ears going red, and know my face will be soon to follow. But to add insult to injury, Paul sighs at his spot on the floor in front of the TV. “Well, whatever, it’s just a stupid book. Songwriters aren’t good novelists anyway.”
I want to hit him, but I won’t in front of so many witnesses. But I can’t contain my anger. “Hey, screw you, Paul! This book is important!”
“Well, what’s it about?” Jason asks.
I sigh. Should I really open my wounds for everyone to laugh at? I decide to go for it; the only real jerk in the room is Paul. “It’s about my brother.”
Everyone stares, not really knowing what to say. Then Paul breaks the silence. “Well that’s a pretty stupid subject. I mean, how old is he? Twelve?”
This time I contain my rage, not knowing how. “He’s dead, Paul. Today would have been his twenty-fifth birthday.” I can feel tears in my eyes.
He at least has enough grace to look ashamed. “Wow,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Not many people do,” I said. “But more often than not, the Cohen is enough to get them thinking.” I glare at him for a full minute before I look back to my writing. I can hear someone gearing up to ask another question, so before they can, I grab my pad and pen and dash for my room. I slam the door behind me, turning on my stereo full blast. It’s my song, and I lie on my bed and have a good long cry, “My Shadow” blaring in my ears.
“Good,” I said, reaching up to the counter for a plate. Mom dished out some bacon, eggs and toast onto my plate and I sat down. Jimmy came into the kitchen as I started on my toast.
“Hi, Abby,” he said, ruffling my hair. I finished eating quickly and went to brush my hair and teeth. When I came back, Jimmy was packing his backpack. “Hey, Abby,” he said. “You wanna have lunch with me and my friends today?”
“Really?” I said quietly. “You mean…I can?”
He smiled. “Yeah. Quen insisted on it.”
Mom looked at me. “Anything you need today, sweetie? I’m going to the store later, so anything you want I’ll get.”
“Some more cookies?”
She smiled. “Okay.” She jotted it down on a notepad. Then she glanced up at the clock. “Whoops, you two better get going. You’ll be late.”
Jimmy shouldered his backpack and straightened his tie. “Let’s go, Abby.” We hugged Mom, then ran out the door, her eyes on us until we were out of sight.
The morning in class was uneventful. A little math, a lot of reading. We were just starting our Scripture lesson when the phone on Miss Gilson’s desk rang. She excused herself and answered it, Bible in hand. She looked solemn when she hung up. “Abigail,” she said. “You’re wanted in Sister Anne’s office.”
Again? What had I done this time? With a stomach full of butterflies, I packed up my backpack and walked down to Sister Anne’s office. The door was open, and I walked in. Jimmy was sitting in one of the chairs in front of Sister Anne’s desk. She was looking at his downcast face. “James, I’m sorry. I wish I could have had better news for you.” I stood there for a moment, watching my brother. He was crying; they were quiet tears, but they were still tears.
I dropped my backpack. Both of their eyes snapped to me. “Jimmy?” I said quietly. “Why are you crying?”
He walked over to me and knelt down, tears still streaking down his face. “Abby, I…” He sighed. “I know you’re smart, and I hope you’ll understand this because I really don’t want to have to explain it too much.” He took a deep breath. “Mom was in an accident.”
I felt my eyes start tearing. “Is she okay?”
Jimmy’s tears started falling faster. “No, Abby, she’s not. Mom’s…” I watched his face contort with pain and sadness as he struggled to keep his composure for my sake. When he finally spoke again, the words were strangled, his voice high-pitched. “Mom’s dead, Abby.” Then he broke down completely as he crushed me to him in a tight hug.
I let my tears loose, thoroughly upset. I felt my knees giving out, and before I fell over, Jimmy sat me on his lap, his arms still tight around me, still sobbing. I don’t remember how long we sat there, hugging and crying. But soon enough, Aunt Laraina came and picked us up. She took us back to our house, where the rest of our family was helping our grandmother move some things. I realized through my daze that Grandmother was moving into the house.
I don’t honestly remember what happened between that moment and the funeral a week later. I do know that I didn’t go to school; Grandmother insisted that for one week, Jimmy and I were to be in complete mourning. That meant if we thought we could handle school, we could go, but she wouldn’t require us to force ourselves. So I didn’t go.
The funeral was private, family only. I spent the whole time hanging onto my brother’s hand; even the words of Father John Whitmore, the St. Anne’s parish priest, didn’t reach my ears. I watched Uncle Robert give my mother’s eulogy; after all, her brother would know her best. When it was over, Jimmy and I stood there, just looking at her casket together. Grandmother waited patiently for us to finish saying our goodbyes; she stood by the car, watching us.
“Jimmy,” I whispered as we stared at the coffin.
“Yes, Abby?” His tone was solemn, composed.
“She’s really gone, isn’t she?”
There was a pause. “Only if we forget her. When Dad died, Mom told me if I just remembered him, forever, and loved him, that he’d never go away. If you never forget Mom, and you always love her, then she’s always with you.”
I was quiet. It made sense. “Grandmother’s going to take care of us, right?”
“She has to. It’s what Mom wanted. Otherwise we’d probably get split up, and Mom didn’t want us going to strangers.” He was still staring at her coffin. “Grandmother can be scary, but she doesn’t really hate you, Abby. She just misses Dad. Aunt Laraina said she felt the same way about her when Grandfather died. But she knows it’s not your fault. You didn’t ask for it.”
“Ask for what?”
“Life.” He looked at me.
I looked at him, then glanced toward Grandmother. She was talking with Aunt Laraina. I looked back to Jimmy. “Everything’s different now, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“We’re orphans.”
“Technically, yes.” He stroked my hair with his free hand; I was still clinging to the other one. “It’ll be okay, little one. You are my little sister and I swear on everything holy that I will take care of you now. Mom made me promise to take care of you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
We stared at each other for a second, then hugged, and started back toward the car.
“Jimmy?” I said just before we got there.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, little one.”
Grandmother watched us climb into the car. “Could you two have taken any longer?” she asked, a quiet nasty tone in her voice. I looked at her, and my active imagination began to draw the horns and tail of the Devil on my supposedly gentle grandmother. She started to drive for home, and I stared at my brother, scared.
When we got home, Grandmother sent me to bed, despite my protests that I wasn’t tired. A few minutes after I climbed into bed, Jimmy came in to tuck me in and say goodnight. It was quick, before Grandmother had a chance to yell at him for bothering me. As he walked out, I heard him whisper something softly, probably thinking I couldn’t hear him.
“It’s up to me now, isn’t it, Mom?”
