I watched the horizon as the plane drifted slowly through the clouds, hugging the window and making the world feel smaller. The sunset painted everything rose gold, a great ball of fire sitting peacefully on the Mississippi River. My thoughts were dancing on the water, along the mountains, away from Brooklyn and away from memories of home.
It was another three hours until I arrived at SeaTac, to be swept away to the middle of nowhere by estranged family I'd never met. Home had recently become a psychological war zone, and surviving there wasn't an option anymore. My Grandma, our family's matriarch and my only true protector, sent me away. I think my melancholy and dismal attitude was casting a dark cloud over the house that she couldn't afford to let darken the hearts of her family.
I tried to keep myself locked away in my room for the first part of the year. I tried to make my self-inflicted prison a little more bearable. I redecorated, I painted the walls, strung lights from the ceiling, draped plastic flowers over them. I hoped that if my space looked happy, it would inspire me to feel happy in it. I was pathetically wrong. The pastel colors and twinkly lights mocked me, I'd trapped myself in some ironic, four walled hell.
So I stayed out a lot. Drinking, smoking, fucking, generally keeping myself occupied. I made dates and plans, often with people I hated, but I hated myself, so it wasn't like the company I was keeping felt any different. I was at home at strange hours, and since I couldn't bear existing in the same house as him, I always made sure I was at least inebriated enough that I would hardly remember where I was.
Grandma couldn't watch anymore. I was breaking her heart. So, she did something I never thought she'd do. She called my dad's family.
My father left my 21 year old mother in her second trimester, staying just long enough to give her hope of a family, and leaving soon enough to let her spiral in the last few months of her pregnancy. My father is Quileute Native, and the family he does have lives on the La Push Reservation in Forks, Washington. I googled Forks, Washington. It rains all the time, has hardly any people, and I doubt that the ones who live there are all that interesting. Not like the characters I would encounter every moment on the streets of NYC. There would be no life, no hustle, it seemed to be a town that always slept.
When Grandma told she'd made arrangements for me to stay with my Dad's cousin Emily in Washington, I had never felt smaller. I begged her to stay, not to send me to live with strangers across the country. I told her I'd try harder. She shushed me and wiped away my panicked tears and said, "It's not about you trying anymore, sugar. You can't live here. I think it would be best for everyone."
So that was that. Grandma felt it would be best for everyone if I left. So I did. And now I'm leaving. I'm almost gone. And I don't know if she ever, ever wants me back.
I turned my head forward, staring emptily at the back of the seat in front of me. I refused to blink until the tears in my eyes settled, promising not to fall over the edge of my lid for the world to see. I reached into my bag to grab myself a treat. I unwrapped the chocolate and placed it on my tongue, hoping the edible didn't smell too loud. It melted quickly, the strong flavor of marijuana blending beautifully with the caramel. It was my second one during the flight. I plugged my headphones into my laptop and closed my eyes.
I wasn't planning on having to think again until we landed in hell.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
With the combination of readjusting to being at sea level, a five hour long flight, and 30mg of THC working its way through my system, getting off the plane was an experience. I felt like I was floating as I dragged my suitcase down the jetway. There seemed to be some distant, thunderous drumming, sending vibrations through my core and making my bones feel hollow. I figured out that it was my heart.
I emerged into the brightly lit terminal, scanning the people standing around for some signal that somebody was there for me. It was difficult, having never met the person I was looking for. It wasn't long before I spotted a sign that said "Calypso", in feminine, loopy writing. I looked to see who was holding it and was, admittedly, startled by their appearance. Standing there was a striking woman, with dark almond eyes like mine and a kind smile on her lips and three deep, jagged scars running across her features. The wounds only marred the right side of her face, the left side offering a glimpse of what she once looked like. But her eyes were familiar and welcoming, and I found myself walking towards her.
"Hi," she said softly as I approached, still holding the sign in place. "Are you Calpyso?"
"Yeah, hey," I said. "You're Emily, right?" I realized that the scars extended across her shoulder and down to her hand. She smiled and nodded, opening her arms to hug me. My eyes widened as I realized what was happening, I'm not much of a "new person" hugger, but the woman had enclosed me in her arms and pulled me to her chest before I had time to move.
"It's so good to meet you," she said, thankfully breaking the embrace sooner rather than later. "Let me handle some of your bags for you," she offered.
"No, no, it's fine, please-" Emily was already grabbing my carry-on and slinging my duffel bag over her shoulder.
"Let's go," she said, walking forward. I tried not to sigh and followed her, groggy and wanting to be in a bed. "How was your flight?" she asked me.
"Long," I responded curtly. I was tired, and not in the mood for pleasantries. We would be living together, and I was more than sure that there would be plenty of time for that.
"Did you get a window seat?" she asked.
"Mhm."
"I bet the sunset was pretty."
"It was."
"Have you been to Forks before?"
"No."
"You used to live in Seattle a while ago, right?" Emily asked, glancing over her shoulder at me as we stepped onto the moving walkway.
"Yeah, I lived in Seattle until I was 10."
"Do you ever miss it?"
"Kind of. It's a lot different from New York, but the time that I spent there with my mom was good."
"Forks is a lot different from Seattle, and even more different from New York," Emily said as we slowed to join the line through security. "But it's a beautiful town with nice people. You can't ask for too much more, y'know?"
Some nightlife and more than two high schools is too much to ask?
"Yeah, I guess."
Emily left me alone for a while after that. It wasn't that I didn't like her; to be honest, I wasn't sure how I felt about her yet. I was tired and coming down from my high and even just making my way through the pristine airport filled with people who seemed as fragile as china dolls, it was clear I was no longer in New York. I already missed it.
Getting through security was fairly painless, and we were soon standing on the pavement outside, waiting for Emily's fiancé. A worn down, dark blue Mitsubishi pulled smoothly up to the curb, and Emily stepped forward. From the unassuming vehicle emerged a giant of a man, at least 6'4", and handsome as all hell. It was all I could do to keep my jaw from dropping.
"You must be Calypso," the man said as he approached, the timber of his voice carrying effortlessly over the traffic. I nodded, practically craning my neck to look him in the face. "I'm Sam," he said, reaching out his hand to shake. I stuck my hand out and he gripped it almost cautiously. Even so, I could feel the strength in his arm and the heat of his skin and knew he could crush my fingers without a thought.
Emily and Sam packed all of my bags into the trunk, and Sam held the door for me as I slid into the car. They exchanged a few words about traffic and dinner as the car pulled onto the road and we began making our way out of the airport. The car ride was long, but I was able to nap for most of it, and I didn't fall asleep until after I told them I wanted salmon for dinner.
I awoke to the sound of crunching gravel as we coasted down a driveway. I opened my eyes and rubbed the sleep from them. The car approached a modest wooden house with its porchlight still on. I sat up straight, giving my muscles a quick stretch.
"We're here," Emily singsonged quietly as we all clicked our seatbelts open.
"You girls head inside, I'll grab the bags," Sam offered. I didn't feel like I had much of a choice, so I just slung my purse over my shoulder as I walked toward the house.
"Want me to show you your room?" Emily asked on our way to the door.
"I thought we agreed she was sleeping in the yard!" Sam shouted from the car as he unloaded bags.
"Don't mind him," Emily giggled, not even turning to acknowledge her partner. We walked to the side door and Emily began unlocking it.
"I like your flowers," I noted, commenting on the flower box bursting with marigolds beneath the window.
"Thank you!" Emily piped, pushing the door open for me. "I have a little garden out back, I just started it." She turned the light on and made her way into the kitchen. It was nicer than the outside had led me to believe. It had high ceilings held up by wooden beams, with white, neatly kept cabinets brightening the kitchen. A large window was placed against the side of the house, making the entire space feel open. There was a little round checkered table sitting in the dining area, with bright sunflowers standing in a vase in the center of the table.
"I'm assuming you didn't grow these?" I said, nodding to the sunflowers. Emily looked over her shoulder from the kitchen where she had begun gathering ingredients for dinner.
"You caught me," she laughed, turning back toward the counter. "It's a little difficult what with it being one of the rainiest cities in the country."
"Summer's coming up," I noted, slowly meandering over to Emily with my hands in the pockets of my sweats.
"Yeah, it's even supposed to be warm this year," Emily said.
"Thank God for global warming." Emily laughed and it was like sleigh bells, high and light and it made me feel twinkly inside. "Can I help you with anything?" I asked, walking over to the sink to wash my hands.
"Please, sweety, you don't have to!" she insisted, continuing to chop onions.
"Oh, so you guys get to throw my bags around without my permission, but I can't peel a few potatoes?" I grabbed a potato and the peeler, settling over the kitchen sink.
"I suppose fair is fair," she said. I heard Sam entering the house, the loud bustle of bags being moved up the stairs reverberated through the walls.
"Do you cook?" Emily asked, separating all her onion slices from each other, scattering the concentric circles all over her cutting board.
"No, I'm bad at cooking. I like to help with prep though."
"Did your grandmother cook a lot?"
"Her and my mom actually. I've been grating cheese since I was 4."
"You know, I knew your mother." I looked up suddenly from my task, intrigued by this new information.
"You did?" I asked, resuming my work.
"We practically went to highschool together. John and I, your father, went to school here on the Res. Your mom attended Forks High School down the road. But once she and John were seeing each other, they were inseparable. She was down here every day after school, we basically lived on the beach all weekend." Emily smiled fondly at the memories, and I tried to imagine my mom as an actual teenager.
"I've only ever heard stories from my grandmother," I said, grabbing a second potato.
"Oh, your mom was a real troublemaker." My eyes lit up.
"Really?" I said, perching on the counter beside her.
"Yeah!" Emily said, her face beaming now. "Oh my goodness, I remember one time, at a barbeque, we had all just watched American Pie and-"
"Is this the story about the pie bet?" Sam boomed, thundering down the stairs.
"Yes," Emily laughed, her smile broadening as if she had just been caught.
"Don't tell her that one!" Sam argued, wrapping his arms around Emily's shoulders and kissing her on the forehead. She chuckled and kissed his forearm and resumed cutting. It was a simple gesture, but I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen a couple more in love. I wasn't sure that I had. There was almost a current surrounding them, I was sitting so close I could feel it buzz, making my hairs stand on end. I found myself drawn to it, wanting to be closer, wanting to stick my hand in the invisible energy field and become an extra circuit. I imagined how restorative it would feel, I fantasized about how it cleansing it would be to let it fill me with light and instill hope to start over.
But I knew that wasn't likely. I knew what was more likely, if I did try to absorb that energy, was that my body would reject it like poison or a bad piercing. It would hurt me, and my system wouldn't know how to process anything like it. I knew that kind of love didn't belong here, with me.
So I lifted myself off the counter and moved to help finish dinner.
"You knew my mom too, Sam?"
"Everybody knew Talia!" he piped, releasing Emily as she went to grab the salmon. "She was the life of the town, always throwing surprise parties for people, babysitting, starting water balloon fights." Sam walked over to me as I was peeling. "I first met you when you were as big as my thumb," he said, sticking it out for reference.
"Maybe a little smaller," Emily chuckled, rubbing the salmon with pepper and herbs.
"We may be strangers, but we are family," Sam said with a kind smile, patting his large hand firmly on my frail shoulder.
Dinner was ready soon after, and Emily poured everybody a glass of wine. The salmon delicious, perfectly pink and retaining all of its savory juices. It was accompanied with creamy mashed potatoes and caramelized onions, and I was glad I was still living in a house with someone who knew how to cook. We played some jazz on the stereo and finished a couple of bottles of wine. They learned about some of my life in Brooklyn, and I learned about what life was like on the Res. We played a couple of card games and we all went to bed when Emily pointed out that it was 1 am, and insisted that Sam and I turn in with her.
Sam said goodnight to me at the top of the stairs with a kiss on my head and another pat on the shoulder as he turned down the hall. Emily led me to my bedroom just on the right, across from the bathroom. It was a fine room, with a small window across from the twin bed, and a desk against the wall. There was a lamp in the corner, casting a warm yellow glow over the space. My bags were piled neatly in the closet, the lacy white curtains fluttering in the open window.
"This is yours," Emily said softly, sleep creeping into her voice as she nestled in the doorway. "We can get you a bigger bed if you like, I wasn't sure if you wanted more room or more mattress."
"This is fine, this is perfect," I said, looking around at the pristine room. I took a seat on the understated floral bedspread, dotted with pastel colored daisies and a bumblebee here and there. I looked over on the pillow and had to resist the urge to laugh when I saw what was sitting there.
"A chocolate, Emily? Really?" I asked, grabbing the candy and holding it out. She looked at me and shrugged, making me shake my head and chuckle.
"I know it's silly, I was nervous, okay?" she said, taking a seat beside me on the bed.
"Why were you nervous?" I asked, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.
"Oh, no reason," Emily said dismissively, looking in her lap as she toyed with her fingers. "I mean, the last time I saw Talia was almost twenty years ago, when she was pregnant with you. We were all so excited to meet you, she knew she was naming you Calypso by week 4. I helped her buy baby clothes, we had started organizing her baby shower. And then…" Emily glanced at me. "Everything happened and I never got to meet you and time just flies and then all of a sudden, her mother was calling me asking me to take care of Talia's 19 year old girl and…" She looked up, and I realized she had tears in her eyes.
"Life is just funny that way, you know?" I nodded, peering at her over the tops of my knees. "And so," she sniffled, "I was nervous to finally meet the person we all were so excited about. Your arrival has been long awaited. You're Talia's baby girl," she cooed, patting my foot. I felt a lump form in my throat, and pinpricks in the back of my neck at the sound of that phrase. I had never heard anybody say that before, and I wanted her to say it to me all night.
"Well." Emily cleared her throat and gave me a smile. "You'd better get to sleep, darling, you've had a long day." She stood and crossed the room as I unfolded myself from myself. I was taking off my socks as she was closing the door, before she briefly stuck her head back in. "We're really happy to have you here, Calypso." I looked at her scarred face with eyes like mine and a kindness I had rarely encountered, and I felt like I belonged. She smiled and closed the door and I felt my heart give a contented sigh. I looked around the room and decided the first thing I'd do, once I had a chance, was hang up my fairy lights.
After brushing my teeth and putting up my hair, I slipped into my pajamas and crawled in bed. The sheets smelled like lilac, and the corners were tucked just how I like them. I wiggled my feet as I unwrapped the Andes mint and placed it on my tongue. I fell asleep dreaming of chocolate.