Serendipity and Me (9781101602805) (15 page)

 

In my chosen picture

my parents sit on a piano bench

with little me on Mom's lap.

 

It looks like Easter.

 

We're all dressed up

and I'm holding a basket.

 

One of my legs

is flung off to the side

like I can't wait to get down

and find those hidden eggs.

 

Mom's arms surround me

like she's holding

something precious.

 

Dad's face shines with twinkling eyes

and a crooked grin.

 

I glance over at my picture

from across the room.

 

It seems to glow with the promise

of a story

 

but I'm not looking for a story prompt

 

I'm looking for something else

 

and I'm not sure what it is.

 

 

 

After we've walked around the room

we head back to our desks

to begin working.

 

I see Garrett stop at Kelli's desk

and hear them laughing

about a bulldog in Kelli's picture

dressed up like a pirate.

 

Something in me sinks.

 

I wonder if Garrett knows the dog.

I wonder if Garrett has been to Kelli's house

like he's been to mine

 

only not just there

to drop off something

from the teacher.

 

There because he wanted to be.

 

Maybe Garrett feels me watching him

because he looks over at me

 

and smiles.

 

Oh.

 

Does he know I like him?

 

Is he throwing me a crumb?

 

 

 

I look down at my happy picture

but it makes me sad.

 

I begin writing without thinking.

 

Once upon a time there was a family.

Then there was none.

Once upon a time there was a mom

who lived and breathed and danced and sang

 

who loved and dreamed and wished on stars.

 

Then there was a car.

Then there was a fog.

Then there was the sound of metal

and it was not the sound

of swords and armor

in a story about Joan of Arc

but the crash of a car

as the fog stole the mother's sight

and the headlights of eighty other cars

that piled up like broken sticks

beneath a burning stake.

 

Once upon a time there was a family.

Then there was none.

 

 

 

I didn't realize a picture

of a bright Easter morning

could prompt such dark writing.

 

I feel like I just burped

a cloud of smoke.

 

A hand appears near my picture.

A finger points to Mom.

 

Garrett on his way to the front.

 

He lifts a strand of my hair

that's close to my cheek.

Two blondies,
he says.

You look just like her.

 

I stop breathing a moment

as the sun comes out

from behind a thick cloud.

Wondering how I should react

to his touch

and his words.

 

She looks beautiful in the picture

to me.

 

Is that how I look

to him?

 

 

 

Walking home from school

I pass Mom's dorm.

The kittens are in the window again.

On an impulse, I climb over bushes

to tap-play with them

on the glass.

But the kittens startle at me coming so close

and one falls into the room.

 

The curtain moves and reveals Jocelyn

who widens her dark-fringed eyes.

She pulls open the window.

Sara! How are you?

 

Good.
I motion through the window opening.

I was just gonna look at the kittens.

 

I figured.           How's your new kitty?

 

I blink.           I guess she's not keeping secrets.

Great—well—I don't know

if I'll be able to keep her.

 

She makes an exaggerated frowny face.

Fingers crossed, right?

 

Right.

 

Jocelyn looks back into the room

then says            
As long as you're here . . .

 

 

 

Why don't you stay and talk awhile,
she says.

Climb on in.

 

I don't know what my dad

would think about this

but I climb in anyway

twisting past a scrambled desktop

trying not to disturb a long-legged girl

sprawled on the opposite bed.

The kittens scatter when I land.

Where'd you get these kittens?

 

Their mom was a stray . . . pregnant.

She got hit by a car after they were born.

We're still trying to find homes

for these last two.

Jocelyn waits a beat and

gives me a considering look.

Do you know if your mom lived here?

 

I nod.             
Yeah, this was her dorm.

 

I thought so.
             
When I heard your fairy tale

and I saw her name, Aislinn,

I wondered if it was the same one.

That's an unusual name.

 

The leggy girl sits up.

Jocelyn. That's not for outsiders.

 

Jocelyn shrugs.

She's not really an outsider.

She turns back to me.

She left an artifact.

 

My mind goes to old pottery and arrowheads.

Artifact?

 

Come on, I'll show you.

 

Jocelyn leads me across the hall

to another dorm room.

Coming through

she says to the occupants.

This is Sara.

Aislinn's daughter.

 

The girls look up from their books

and gaze at me.

It makes me feel like a zoo creature.

 

Jocelyn twists a lamp

so that it shines into a drawer.

 

She pushes aside pens,

index cards, and highlighters.

Take a peek,
she says to me.

 

 

 

The inside of the drawer is littered

with graffiti.

Dorm tradition,
Jocelyn says.

Girls who get engaged

while they're here

put their names in the drawer.

 

I follow her finger

to my mother's name.

She's written

Aislinn and Matthew.

 

Jocelyn sighs.

Isn't it romantic?

 

She leans toward me.

Your parents must have been

secretly engaged.

It's against the rules

for a professor and a student

to have a relationship.

She leans back.

But how can love be

against the rules?

She shakes her head

at how ridiculous that sounds.

 

Jocelyn jumps up all of the sudden.

Omigosh, I'm late for a test.

She gathers notebooks and pens.

Don't worry about that rule thing.

It was a long time ago.

Things worked out—right?

She flashes me a counselor's smile.

Gotta run!

 

She's gone just like that

and I feel dumb with these girls

I don't know

so I drift back across the hall

half-smile at the girl on the bed

and scramble out the window

 

heading for home

and that rule-breaker—

my dad.

 

I guess I'm not the only one

who's wanted something

not allowed.