Born Weird (4 page)

Lucy stepped off of the bus. She watched it drive away. Then she looked around. The houses were mainly sixties-era bungalows. The lawns were perfectly kept. The street signs told her that she stood at Druid and Forester. Lucy had never been here. She had never heard of either of these streets. She
wasn’t even sure what part of town she was in. But Lucy knew, without doubt, that if she went six blocks north, and then four blocks west, and then south for another nine and a half blocks, she’d be in front of her house.

“Damn it!” Lucy said.

She walked into the middle of the road. She closed her eyes and she held out her arms and she turned in a slow clockwise circle. But no matter what direction Lucy faced, she knew the way home.

A
NGIE SET THE TIMER ON HER PHONE
and waited on the sidewalk across from her sister’s house. Forty-five minutes passed before a dented and dirty taxi arrived and Lucy stepped out of it. It had been nearly eight years since Angie had seen her sister and the first thing she noticed, and then couldn’t stop staring at, was her haircut. The bangs on the right side of Lucy’s head were at least three inches longer than the bangs on the left. The bottom was sliced in a zigzag, like the mouth of a jack-o’-lantern. Three tufts stuck up at the top. Lucy’s haircut didn’t look fashionable or avantgarde—it just looked crazy.

Angie walked across the street. Lucy turned and saw her coming. They stopped when they were three feet apart. Neither decreased the space between them. Angie tried not to stare at Lucy’s hair.

“It’s me. Your sister. Angie.”

“I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I didn’t either.”

“Your boobs are so big!”

“Well, I
am
pregnant.”

“How did you find my house?”

“You’re in the phone book.”

“Right.”

“Do you want to know how long I waited?”

“Yes!”

Angie took her phone out of her purse. She checked the timer. “Forty-seven minutes,” she said. “And twenty seconds from right … now.”

“That’s not so bad.”

“No. I guess it isn’t.”

“Can you give me five minutes?”

“Of course,” Angie said, setting the timer again. Lucy turned. She ran up the steps to her house. Her hair was just as ragged in the back.

Angie had always known her sister to be tightly wound. Lucy had obsessed over her grades. She was considered one of the prettiest girls in her school, yet she never went out with anyone. At the same time she was a bit of a slut, although her choice of partners had always seemed more than literally beneath her. Growing up Lucy had always disliked surprises. As Angie stood on the sidewalk in front of her house, she assumed that her sister’s desire for control had finally broken her.

Angie’s timer dinged. She walked across the front lawn, which was manicured to a golf-green perfection. Picking the
blades of grass off her shoes Angie knocked on the door. It was immediately answered.

“Angie!” Lucy called.

“May I come in?”

“Please do,” Lucy said, and Angie stepped inside.

Two skinny floor rugs lay side by side in the hallway. Angie stood by the door. She could see into the living room, where matching white armchairs were pushed against the far wall. Both rooms were without coffee mugs or newspapers or anything accidental. It did not look like anyone lived there. It looked like an advertisement.

“Can you take your shoes off?” Lucy asked.

“Um …”

“Please.”

“Give me a minute,” Angie said. She sat on the floor and lifted her feet into the air.

“Come on, Angie, you’re a big girl now.”

“Obviously you’ve never been pregnant.”

“It’s not too late,” Lucy said. She crossed her arms. Angie kept her feet in the air. The effort strained her stomach muscles.

“If you want them off you’ll have to do it,” Angie said.

“So, what? You never take your shoes off?”

“It’s just hard.”

“You sleep in those shoes?”

“You can’t just help me out here?”

“Not if you can’t help yourself!”

“Fine,” Angie yelled. She wedged off her left shoe with her right foot. It flew into the air and landed upside down on the left rug. She did the same with the other shoe, which landed on the right rug. Lucy collected both shoes. She set them inside the hall closet, next to her own. Then she reached out her hand and helped Angie to her feet.

“The hard part is getting them back on.”

“Well, maybe I can help you with that,” Lucy said.

The two sisters walked into the living room. Lucy sat in the left armchair. Angie lowered herself into the other one. She watched her sister, knowing that Lucy would be trying to predict what she was about to say. Angie waited some moments. She waited a few more. Then she just came out with it.

“I went to see the Shark!” Angie said. This was the name the Weird siblings routinely used when referring to their grandmother.

“Good God why?”

“Didn’t expect that, did you?”

“No. I did not.”

“She says that she’s on her deathbed.”

“Again?”

“I know, I know.”

“Is she still on Blake Street?”

“No. She’s in the hospital. Vancouver and District. Room 4-206.”

“Do tell.”

“Don’t get excited. She doesn’t seem sick at all. She does however claim that she will die on her birthday.”

“Very dramatic.”

“She was pretty convincing, Lucy.”

“You’re the only one who still falls for the bleeding nose thing.”

“She also claims—”

“It’s not as if we all couldn’t do it. So handy for getting out of phys. ed., remember?”

“She also claims that she gave us all special powers when we were born.”

“Beautiful.”

“At the time she thought they were blessings. But now she realizes that they were curses.”

“Blursings!”

“Let me finish—”

“What did you get?”

“Listen to me!”

“What does she claim to have given you?”

“I can always forgive.”

“And me?”

“You’re never lost.”

“She always liked you better.”

“Luce! Listen! I believe her!”

“Oh you do not.”

“I’m starting to,” Angie said. She looked up at her sister. She wished everything didn’t always have to be so hard. “Ask yourself. Have you ever been lost?”

“I have a natural sense of direction.”

“Exactly. And I’ve let almost everybody I’ve ever met walk all over me.”

“That’s not just low self-esteem?”

“She’s charged me with collecting all of us and bringing everyone to her hospital room so that at the moment of her death she can lift the curses.”

“She gave you—a quest?”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Don’t be mockable.”

“Thirteen days …”

“You’re really taking this seriously?”

“It seemed like a lot of time but now it doesn’t.”

“Does anyone know where Kent is?”

“That seems like enough time? Right?” Angie asked. She looked at her sister and saw a mixture of pity and skepticism. “You think I’ve gone crazy.”

“No. No. It’s just big. That’s all. A lot to take in.”

“There were ladies falling unconscious and nurses rushing in and then the lights dimmed. She grabbed my arm and she wrote her phone number on it and I still can’t wash it off. Our plane was on fire! We had to make an emergency landing. We were all going to die! And then I called the number! I agreed to do it! Then the plane landed safely!”

“Do you want some tea? I have the kettle on.”

“Are you hearing this?”

“Do you really believe that the plane would have crashed
if you hadn’t called the Shark?”

“I think … yes, I do.”

“Angie, that’s called magical thinking. You’ve always been prone to it. The whole family has. It’s okay, but it’s a certifiable mental illness. It’s in all the textbooks.”

“You think it’s just a coincidence that we were forced to land in Winnipeg?”

“I think it even has its own drug now,” Lucy said.

Neither sister said anything more. Angie swallowed several times. She bit the inside of her cheek. She tried to take deep breaths. But none of it worked. The tears came. Angie started to sob.

“I’m not going to do it just because you’re crying.”

“I’m s … s … sorry. I’m not trying t … oo. I’m trying rea … lly hard n … ot to,” Angie said. She wiped her nose with her sleeve. Slightly revolted, Lucy retrieved a box of Kleenex, which she handed to her sister. Angie blew her nose but her chest still heaved.

“I lost my job today,” Lucy said. “I got caught fucking a stranger in front of the 813s.”

“No w … ay!”

“I did.”

“Just like … when you … worked at F … f … rosty Queen?”

“Yes.”

“And … at … I … deal Coffee … and Cinnamon … To … Go?”

“No need to make a list.”

“But don’t you … th … ink … that’s too … coinci … dental? You getting fired … today?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, Angie.”

“Okay,” Angie said. She blew her nose again. She took several deep breaths but then she started sobbing again.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Lucy said. “I’ll go see Abba.”

“Really? You … will?”

“Only because we should have done it a long time ago.”

“Thank you, Lucy. That … means … so … m … uch.”

“I can’t believe that still works.”

“It’s … because … you have … a good … heart.”

“Too bad for me.”

“But y … ou’ll really … go?”

“Yes, yes. I just said I would. I’ll go as far as Abba,” Lucy said. Angie nodded. She pushed herself out of the white armchair and moved across the room, lowering herself onto Lucy’s chair, sitting half beside her sister and half on top of her. She turned herself sideways so she could hug Lucy.

“Watch my shirt.”

“This … means … so … much … to … me.”

“Careful with your nose. Here, blow. Everything’s going to be okay. There’s just one thing we’ll have to do first.”

“What is it?”

“We have to visit Mother.”

“Okay,” Angie said. “I’ll do it.”

In the kitchen the kettle began to whistle. This was a trick
Lucy had been using since high school, to interrupt moments precisely like this one. It got louder and louder and higher in pitch. But Angie didn’t loosen her grip and Lucy did not try to break it.

T
HE MOST IMPORTANT THING
the Weird siblings ever did together was Rainytown. It was a city made entirely out of cardboard boxes that they built in the half-storey attic of their family’s cottage. It was a project they worked on every summer, whenever it rained. Two factors contributed significantly to its genesis: that it rained for seven straight days during the summer of 1994, and that several weeks earlier Kent had found numerous cardboard boxes, big and small, in a neighbour’s garbage.

Kent had dragged the boxes back to the cottage with the intention of playing girlbots. This was a game that Lucy and Abba were disinclined to join. It was forgotten until the grey dismal morning of the seventh day, when they looked outside and saw that the rain continued to fall. Lacking fresh ideas, they followed Kent up to the attic, where conflict began almost instantly.

“Hold on there, Kentucky,” Richard said, using the nickname he knew Kent hated. “I’m obviously the mad scientist since I can’t be a girlbot and I’m older than you.”

“That’s not fair!” Kent said. A small trickle of blood began to leak from his left nostril.

“Truth isn’t fair,” Richard said, invoking the expression that was the unofficial Weird family motto.

“You know that isn’t going to work with us,” Abba said. Kent’s nosebleed ceased.

“Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t be the mad scientist,” Lucy said. She began collecting boxes. Richard tried to pull them out of her hands. Fighting ensued. Their voices rose in volume and pitch and soon their mother’s head poked up into the crawl space.

What she saw disturbed her. Abba appeared to be crying, although it was hard to tell because of the box that covered her head. Angie was also in tears—but then again when wasn’t she?—because she couldn’t remove the Kleenex boxes that had been duct-taped to her feet. Lucy repeatedly hit Richard on the head with a long cardboard tube.