For all of Bernie's sweetness and loyalty, he was dead wrong when it came to Dusty. Then again, she supposed it was only fair; sometimes you had to meet a person to understand how truly special they were. So she swallowed her best friend's complaints and bore his naysaying. When their call was over, she resumed her self-assigned research project.
She understood how an outsider could think of her as ridiculous, but she treasured those days she had slept beneath the twinkling sounds to the chorus of crickets. They were sweet on her tongue, but maybe that was only because those days were right after the horrible time she had spent alone in the woods. Before she stumbled into Dusty's campsite, she had been terrified. Haunted by visions of her hanging grandmother and her faceless mom, Lisa almost went mad. Hunger and fear would have ripped her apart if not for her unlikely friend. When she traveled with Dusty, his presence swept away the grisly delusions conjured up by her lonely mind.
Now, the ugliness was starting to creep back. When Lisa closed her eyes and sat in Grandpa's big, empty house, she felt Marty's presence. Since Brad slept in his own apartment, she was the only warm body that occupied the house at night. But she wasn't alone. Spiders with her father's face crawled in the edges of her vision. Scuttling up the walls, they disappeared into the corners of the room whenever she turned to face them head-on. Come morning, the spiders disappeared like mist in the sun.
Maybe the loneliness was driving her insane. Even though Brad drove her to school, they rarely spoke over the loud rock music buzzing from the radio. In each class, Lisa was a stone, too afraid to talk to anybody. She learned her lesson from her last school: Spend too much time talking, and people will figure out who you really are. Each word is a potential bullet someone can use against you. A simple compliment to a boy—"Hey, your shoes look cool"—could get you slammed into the lockers after class. "Why are you flirting with my boyfriend? Huh?"
Now, whenever boys approached her, she turned her back. She couldn't seem too friendly, because then she might get called a whore. To girls, she was a bit more patient. She'd give them a few seconds of chatter before looking down or walking away mid-sentence. They thought she was rude, but she just didn't want to give them ammunition. Thomas warned her not to be too paranoid, but she preferred safe isolation to the alternative. It was hard enough transferring to a new school; it could be even worse if she started getting into fights again.
Bernie was her only light. They talked on the phone as often as they could, but sometimes they clashed. One day, he would be bubbly and easy to please; the next, he turned prickly and sullen. She wanted another friend, but it had to be someone who didn't go to her school. She couldn't run the risk of being chased out again.
Dusty was the only other friend she'd ever had, and she desperately wanted to meet him again. So she kept trying, but all her efforts amounted to an endless cycle of frustration. She searched through books and squinted and scribbled down information and called countless businesses, only to bang her head at the futility of it all.
It was far too much for one single person, so one day after English class, she asked her teacher for help. She was vague in her wording, only mentioning that she was struggling to find a building through the Yellow Pages.
"What kind of building?" Mr. Collins asked hesitantly. She was a silent and surly student, loathe to be called upon and ready to let her reluctance show. Maybe he thought she was going to snarl some insult at any moment.
"An orphanage," she told him.
"Wait, you've been looking for an orphanage through the Yellow Pages?" He blinked. "Lisa, that's just a list of businesses. If you want to find a list of governmental buildings, you'll need the White Pages."
She could have slapped herself on the forehead. When she went home, she found no copy of the White Pages in Grandpa's bookshelves, so the next day at lunch she searched the school library for a copy. Then the whole painful process reset itself: Lisa scoured every single page, but couldn't find any leads. There were no orphanages listed in the White Pages, so she went to Mr. Collins again for help.
"In that case, you could try to look up birth records," he suggested. "When someone's adopted, there's a note that mentions which orphanage they were sent to...I think."
"Can I find birth records in our library?"
Mr. Collins scoffed. "Absolutely not. You think a public school has access to that kind of information? The government's not giving us any more pennies than it absolutely has to. Pfft! A school...having those kinds of resources…as if!"
"Well, where can I find them?"
"You can find birth records in the hospital...I think." Lisa wanted to ask him more, but Mr. Collins shooed her away. "Now, please leave. I've got to get ready for my next class."
Well, now's as good a time as any, Lisa thought as she walked out of Grandpa's room to visit the park. She had ample time before Brad got back. If Brad got back. She was afraid that one day he would forget her. He was starting to show up late when he picked her up from school. If she voiced a complaint, he would silence her with a surly look.
On her way to the elevator, Lisa found a woman sitting on the desk. "Excuse me," she said. "Where are the birth records?"
"Why do you ask?" The receptionist squinted over the desk, clutching a cup of blueberry yogurt to her chest.
"I want to see when my friend was born."
"Why?"
Lisa took a deep breath to calm herself. Incessant questions were infuriating. They took her back to her time in custody, when CPS agents interrogated her on every aspect of her time with dad. Did he do this? Why? Did he do that? Why? How did you feel? Why? Where did he touch you? Why? How did it make you feel?
Sweat dripped down her neck. Lisa stammered out a lie she hoped would bring her closer to the truth. "I, uh... forgot my friend's birthday and I want to get him a gift on time. So that's why...I need to see his birth certificate."
The lady slurped down a spoonful of her yogurt. "That's very cute, but you can't access that type of information." She shook her head of curly hair. "It's not for you."
Who are you to decide, you pompous bitch? Lisa wanted to spit at her. But that would squander the opportunity to find Dusty, so she swallowed her pride. "In that case," she asked sweetly, "where can I find that information?"
"You'd have to go to the County Clerk," the receptionist said. "But don't waste the time. You've got to be authorized to look through birth records."
"Well, how do I get authorized?"
The woman snickered. "By becoming an attorney, for one! Or a member of a law enforcement agency...or a parent. Or a licensed adoption agent. You're a bit young for that, kiddo." Blue yogurt dribbled down the side of her mouth. "Anyway, sweetie, just put on your big girl pants and take responsibility. Walk up to your friend and tell him you forgot his birthday. Don't waste your time looking through dusty papers!"
Lisa stomped away because if she stayed still for one more minute she was going to explode. Condescending strangers triggered her like nothing else. If that bitch had just answered Lisa's original question without needling her with why-why-whys, Lisa wouldn't have had to lie. And then she got mocked over the lie she was forced to tell? If she'd just been straightforward and told her the truth off the bat, Lisa wouldn't have wasted her time. But, no, some worker was feeling powerless and decided to lord herself over a little girl. Disgusting.
She needed some fresh air. Mashed the elevator's down arrow. When the doors swung open, a lone man stared at her. Lisa stiffened. Imagined herself alone with him in that tight space. Suddenly, she had trouble breathing.
He frowned. "You coming in or not?"
"N-no. Sorry." Above his head, fat spiders twitched around the lights. "I, uh, pressed the wrong button."
He rolled his eyes and closed the door. Lisa held herself and breathed, one-two-three, just like Thomas taught her.
"Just be in the moment and let your emotions flow through you," Thomas hummed in the back of her mind. "Don't fight them. That's the only way you can move on."
After a few moments, she felt better. Not as angry at the receptionist. Not as terrified over what might happen to Grandpa. The next time the elevator opened, it was blessedly empty.
Alone in the slowly descending cable, she continued her breathing exercises. Tried to ignore the spiders' whispering legs as they crawled over her head. I can't believe Mr. Collins sent me in the wrong direction, she thought. You can't trust anybody.
The elevator dropped down two floors before it ground to a halt. The doors opened on level three, where a tall, muscular man waited for the ground floor. At once, Lisa's heart hammered in her chest at the thought of being alone in a tight space with him. It's okay, she thought. Not every man is like dad. You can do this.
She couldn't do it. Quickly, she stepped out of the elevator just as the man entered, their bodies like two ships passing in the night. Above her head, a spider scuttled out of the elevator, chasing her into the new level. No. Despite herself, Lisa mustered the courage to throw back a polite nod at the man. He nodded back, and the spider returned to the elevator cable. The doors slid shut, taking it far away.
Lisa sighed deeply, holding a hand to her heart. Everything had changed — but she still felt like that frightened runaway, constantly looking over her shoulder, guilty for the crime of living. When strange men looked at her for too long, she felt their eyes and imagined their hands stroking her skin and she rippled in revulsion.
"Well, hello there!" A chipper voice broke her thoughts. "I haven't seen your face before."
The receptionist waved at her with a bright smile, and Lisa lifted her arm to return the gesture, but her arm froze once she noticed the beauty surrounding her. Bright blue birds decorated the ground beneath her feet, flying through the white tiles towards the long hallways to the left and right. Stained glass butterflies adorned the walls, their dazzling orange and black wings frozen in mid-flight. The chubby receptionist with honey-colored hair sat before an ocean of childish drawings pinned to a cork wall. Chaotic squiggles depicted families, misshapen animals, and dancing fairies in all colors of the rainbow.
"Which one is yours?" The receptionist asked, following Lisa's gaze.
"None."
"What? Really?" The woman's blue eyes widened in surprise. "All of our guests get their drawings pinned up."
Guests…? Oh. "I'm not a patient," Lisa said. "I'm a visitor."
The woman gasped. "Oh my goodness! Are you here for Gale?" No, Lisa is about to say, but the woman smiled from ear to ear. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you! She's been waiting for you all day. What took you so long? She keeps leaving her room and asking me, 'Is she here yet?' or 'Where's my friend?' and I keep having to let the poor little baby down. Why, it's been breaking my little heart all day long! Now that you're here, I can finally patch them little heart-pieces together—"
"You've got the wrong person."
The woman didn't seem to hear her; she jumped to her feet and slid closer. "Honey, don't feel guilty! We're all a little late sometimes."
"I'm not late." The woman stepped uncomfortably close; Lisa backed away. "I'm not—I don't even know anybody named Gale!"
"What?" The woman's face fell. "But—you…" Then a flash of suspicion lit her features. "Wait a minute...are you lying to me?"
"No." Lisa's back collided with the elevator door.
"All right, fine. I'm just so...disappointed." Her crestfallen gaze slumped to the floor, where dark blue cranes flew through ivory clouds. "That poor little girl deserves a friend to hang out with. I can't believe her friend would lie and leave her alone..."
A quiet moment passed, and Lisa lifted her finger towards the down button. Then, the receptionist whipped her head up, like a marionette jerking awake for its master's hands. "Hey, hey!" She fixed her intense gaze on Lisa once again. "Won't you do me a favor? I can tell you're a good girl. Isn't that true? You like helping people?"
Lisa cringed, but the woman plunged on: "Listen, honey. We've got a very sick and lonely girl here. Nobody ever comes to visit her. All she wants is a friend to play with. All day she's been expecting a girl from her school to pop in...but nobody ever showed up. Isn't that so cruel? But now that you're here, it's like a shining light! Wouldn't you like to make a new friend? You should pop in and give her a visit! It'll make her day, and you'll be doing a good deed!"
Lisa poked the elevator's down button. "No thanks."
"Whaaaat? " The woman wailed. "Don't you care about her?"
"I don't even know her."
"Then get to know her, please! Just pop in and say 'hi!'" She stepped closer, blue eyes wet and pleading. "I promise you, it will only take a minute! Oh, won't you please go in and play with her a bit? She's so lonely..."
Lisa violently jammed the elevator button. "Sorry, but I gotta go somewhere." Ten mashes later, the doors were still immobile. Frightened and overwhelmed, Lisa's stomach let out an enormous belch of hunger. It would have unnerved any normal person, but the bizarre nurse lit up in excitement.
"What about this? I'll buy you lunch! The hospital food is really good—that's why we don't give free meals to visitors. It's so good you gotta pay for it." She giggled. "Come on! I'll buy you some food if you just do this good deed!"
Lisa's finger lifted from its fruitless assault on the down button. It was a good idea; she had been hungry for a while. Brad hadn't thought to bring any food. As she paused to think, the blonde pounced: "What would you like, sweetheart? I'll get you a nice chicken sandwich. Maybe some potato salad—that's my favorite. I'll even get you a can of Cocola Cola, too—how's that sound?"
It sounded pretty good, but Lisa's fighting lessons weren't the only gift she got from her Grandpa. He also taught her how to barter. She leaned back, crossed her arms, and fixed the overbearing receptionist with an unimpressed look. "I also want some chocolate."
"Done."
Lisa nodded. Mulled it over. "So, you just want me to say hi to this girl?"
"Well, talk to her a bit! Play with her. Just...make friends with her. Please." The woman's voice dropped. "She's alone all the time. This could make her really happy."
"All right," Lisa said. "Where should I meet her?"
The nurse pointed down a long hall. "Head down there and take a right. Then take another right, then a left. It's the last door on the left. If you get confused, just look for the signs."
"Wait, what?"
"Thank you so much for doing this, sweetheart!" The lady danced around Lisa. After one quick jab to the down button, the elevator doors immediately swung open. Lisa's eye twitched in jealousy, but the cheery nurse didn't seem to notice. She blinked out of sight with a triumphant smile, looking for all the world like the cat that ate the canary.
Lisa stroked the back of her short, messy bob and sighed. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to talk to someone new. After all, she wanted a friend who didn't go to her school—maybe this could be her perfect opportunity. And, as the lady said, she would be doing a good deed. Then again, her surprise meeting would likely result in disappointment. If Lisa were in the little girl's shoes—Gale, the nurse called her—she wouldn't be too happy if a stranger showed up in place of a friend. Surely Gale would greet her with a grimace. "Um, who are you?" Lisa would probably be her usual surly, creepy, silent self, and Gale's day would get even worse. That nurse must be out of her damn mind if she thinks I could ever cheer up a stranger, Lisa thought sourly.
Like a daisy popping out of a sidewalk, a cheery thought brightened her mind. Or maybe that nurse is right and you could make a new friend, it whispered. You never know until you try!
It was a tempting thought. Lisa always fought the feeling that she was a terrible, ugly, worthless person. Surely a horrible waste of human life wouldn't go out of its way to help someone out. This could be proof of the goodness she wasn't sure she had.
When Lisa approached the corridor, she saw a large sign posted on the wall. VERY IMPORTANT AHEAD! it promised in red marker. At the bottom of the sign, a cursive signature revealed that its writer was Gale, who had a penchant for smiley faces. It seemed sweet, and Lisa walked ahead. She counted 12 doors before the next sign showed up. YOU'RE ALMOST HERE! JUST TURN RIGHT FOR THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE, Gale's sign read, now in electric blue marker. Lisa dutifully headed to the right. When will this room show up? By now, she lost count of how many doors she walked past. Throughout it all, the unsettling song of sick children seeped through the walls: wet coughs, secretive whispers, and crackling TVs. Hopefully, the room at the end of the journey would be worth it.
HEY GIRL! Gale's next sign was written in golden marker, which was nearly unintelligible against the white poster paper. With squinted eyes, Lisa read the directions: TAKE ANOTHER RIGHT FOR TRUE PARADISE. Lisa turned into yet another long, dreary corridor of endless rooms. Why did I even agree to this? Lisa wondered as she walked. And walked. And walked some more.
It's because I'm a good person, she reminded herself. By now, her feet were starting to hurt. Violet words swirled around Gale's next sign, spelling out a cheerful message: TURN LEFT TO FIND THE COOLEST GIRL IN THE WORLD! With a heavy sigh, Lisa forced her aching feet forward and lumbered down the final hallway. Then, at long last, she saw the final poster, this time written in pink marker. An eerie smile stretched beside Gale's cursive signature. HERE IS MY ROOM. A thick arrow pointed to the left. NO TRICKS THIS TIME, I PROMISE.
Lisa approached the large white door, turned the handle, and stepped in.
A torrent of water splashed down upon her. It spat down her face and stained her white shirt. Clank! went the bucket as it cracked against her head and bounced against the floor.
"Haha! That's what you get!" A girl's voice cried, followed by maniacal laughter.
Water dripped down Lisa's eyelashes, and she coughed up a river. There must have been murder in her eyes, for Gale slowly lowered her middle finger. Wide, almond-shaped eyes in a pretty swirl of green and brown blinked at her.
"I can see why your friend chose not to visit you," Lisa said. Twirling around, she began the long march back.
"Wait!" The girl wailed. "I thought you were someone else!"
"And I thought you were a poor little sick girl who needed a friend."
Gale matched Lisa's pace. Her crooked teeth were a creamy color, like cadmium yellow drowned in white paint, and her long, aquiline nose bulged at the tip. "That was your first mistake," she teased. She wore a mixed expression of guilt and amusement, like the mischievous little sister in a sitcom who just got caught pulling a prank. "But I'm sorry! Please forgive me?" She widened her eyes like a guilty puppy trying to escape the consequences for its actions.
It won't work on Lisa, no matter how much she has always wondered what it would be like to have a sister. Jerking her head from side to side, Lisa shot water from her bangs like a sprinkler, splashing droplets all over a sputtering Gale. In the moment of distraction, Lisa darted down the hall.
"I'm joking! I didn't mean it!" Gale chased after her, tiny feet slapping against the blue and white tiles. "Please stop." Tiny hands wrapped around Lisa's forearm in a grip as tight as handcuffs. "Like, at least tell me who you are!"
"I was supposed to be your consolation prize," Lisa said. "But I'm taking back the offer."
"Wait, why?"
"I don't want to be friends with someone who throws a bucket of water at my head." When she frowned, a droplet spilled from her chin to her collarbone. "Even I know you're supposed to make a good impression."
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Gale bit her lip. "Really, I am! I set the bucket of water up for someone else, not for you."
"The friend you were expecting?"
"Yes." Gale pouted. "She promised me in class. She said that the next time I got sick, she'd come and visit me the very next day. But she lied! And liars need to be punished, especially since she made me wait all day!"
"Yeah, I heard." Lisa jerked her chin towards the end of the hall. "The lady at the front desk told me all about it."
"Mrs. Guan?" Gale blinked. "Why?"
"I dunno. Felt bad for you, I guess."
"And you just...decided to come in and visit me?" Her greenish-brown eyes sparkled with admiration. "Out of the kindness of your heart?"
"Nah. I was hungry, so she bribed me with food."
"What? So you don't even care about me? Well, guess what, stranger? I am not a meal ticket!" Gale's voice soared to an obnoxious whine. "That, like, really hurts my feelings! You need to make it up to me."
"No, I don't." Gale was like an anchor: No matter how Lisa strained forward, she couldn't budge an inch.
"Yes, you do! Won't you just play with me for a little bit? I mean, you walked all the way over here!"
"And now, I'm about to walk all the way back." Lisa wiggled her arm out of Gale's grasp and stepped away. In a flash, it was captured again. This time, Gale tightened her grip.
"No! Please come to my room, at least! Even if you won't play with me, let me give you a new shirt. It'll be my way of making it up to you."
Lisa looked down at her soaked shirt and shrugged. "Okay, I guess."
Gale's room was large and colorful. Vivid murals of sunflowers twirled over the headboard, stretching towards the ceiling in bursting strokes of golden yellow and bright green. Hand-painted images of stars, birds, plants and musical notes drifted around the walls, and a set of paint supplies sat on a tiny corner table. During Lisa's long trek, she saw some doors that were cracked open; none of the rooms she had glimpsed were as large or lavish as this. Certainly, none of them had art materials or painted flowers sprawling everywhere. A row of canvases leaned against the far wall, each neatly placed against one another. The first painting, a work in progress, displayed hot air balloons in vivid orange and pink strokes. Gale had painted the sky as pale blue with fluffy white clouds. It was so realistic that Lisa imagined herself floating above the world in one of the balloons, far away from all of her problems.
"Come over here! I've got a great view." Gale threw open the pink curtains. Her room was directly above the lush park. "Check it out! You can see everyone over there." She pointed towards the green land across the street. An older teen boy with a cheetah-patterned shirt threw a frisbee for a chocolate lab. Over at the wooden tables, a group of friends chatted over pizza, while a young couple enjoyed a picnic on a red blanket.
"I've got the best view on the whole level," Gale boasted. "My daddy made sure of it."
"How?" Lisa looked around. The room was far larger than Grandpa's. "I mean, is he the boss of all the doctors? Like an administrator or something? I don't know what they're called."
"Not exactly. He just gets what he wants."
"Uh, okay." Lisa scratched the back of her soaked neck. "By the way, where's that shirt you promised me?"
"Oh! Wait a minute." Gale jumped onto her large bed, and the animal toys bounced under her weight. She hopped off the other side of her bed, throwing open a small cabinet in her nightstand "Here you go!"
"That is the ugliest shirt I have ever seen in my entire life." It was a garish mix of polka dots in lime green and cherry red shades. Difficult to look at, like an optical illusion or the trippy acid art on Brad's posters.
"What! You don't like my fashion choices?" Gale gestured to her own outfit. Unlike the atrocity in her hands, her shirt was lovely: it was creamy white, with a pattern of pink roses atop green stems. It went well with her long, pleated skirt, the pink color of salmon flesh.
"Your outfit is fine," Lisa clarified. "But that shirt is...not."
"So you're not going to wear it?"
Lisa looked down at her wet shirt, which clung to every inch of her torso. It was uncomfortably tight, and the dripping water left puddles wherever she stood. Then, she looked back at Gale's terrible offering. "At least this shirt will get dry. Your shirt is already ruined. I mean, you can't fix ugly."
The other girl snickered and shook her head. "Suit yourself! You'll just have to sit there and soak. You'll be like that Celtic witch. You know, the lady in the water?"
Lisa rifled through her memories for a name. It had been a long time since she cracked open a fantasy book, but she had fond memories of The Enchanted World, a book series stuffed with timeless tales from mythology and folklore. Her favorite was a blood-red hardcover all about witches and warlords. This book had an illustration she could never forget, which came from a story about a vengeful enchantress who cursed a princess. Hypnotized by dark magic, the princess led her ladies-in-waiting to a lush green cliff by the sea. One by one, they marched through the dirt and grass to the summit. One by one, the ladies threw themselves into the turquoise sea, their long, dark hair flowing above their plummeting bodies. After Lisa closed the book, the story sat over her psyche like a melting Dali clock. If a witch cursed her, would she have the willpower to break through the spell? Or would she succumb to dark magic and throw herself into the sea?
For all the stories she had consumed, Lisa couldn't think of a name. All the witches melded together into a large, writhing mass of magic and malice. But, as she looked into Gale's expectant eyes, the need to impress squeezed her mind, until a name popped out of thin air. "You mean, like...Morgan le Fay?"
Gale's greenish-brown eyes nearly popped out of her skull. "Oh my God! You know about Morgan le Fay?"
"Well, she's a famous character, right?"
"Right, but no one else has ever heard of her! I've never met anyone else into old legends!"
"Well, I don't know much. I've just seen some stuff in fairy tales."
"Girl, that's enough for me! When you're starving, even crumbs are like gold." Gale clasped her hands. "Anyway! I was just saying you're like the Lady in the Lake. All drenched in water and regal."
"You think I'm regal?" Lisa lifted an eyebrow. Looked over her wet shirt. Ran a hand through her thick, soaked locks. She certainly didn't feel like a dignified lady, but if Gale saw her as a cool witch, she wouldn't argue.
"Heck yeah! You got a sword for me?" Gale padded around Lisa's side, peeking at her back. "Hiding Excalibur behind your back, are you?"
Lisa snickered despite herself. "I wish! But, maybe it's for the best. I'd probably get kicked out of here if I had a sword."
"Haha, I know, right? Actually, funny story: I used to have toy swords, but daddy took them away when I bonked a nurse on the head. It was an accident though!"
"I can't blame you. A lot of the nurses here are really annoying."
"Oh my god, I know, right? It's like, 'Hello, I'm here! Can you stop ignoring me?'"
"I feel the same way! My grandpa is sick but the nurses just didn't seem to care at all. They won't even look at me."
Gale bobbed her head. "I completely understand you, girl. That's my whole entire life in one sentence."
"Wait, people ignore you?" It was hard to believe, with all the extra luxuries in the room. She imagined Gale spent all her time being pampered.
"I mean...kinda? They're nice when I ask them for stuff, but even when I talk to them, they never really listen, you know? I just feel like...nothing I say matters to them. I'm just another sick kid. They just see me as this wimpy little weakling who needs to be taken care of...but not listened to. Does that make sense? Or do I sound crazy?"
A burst of fondness spread through Lisa's chest. She and I are the same. They both felt ignored, forgotten, unimportant. All of those worries from earlier flew away, like dust in the wind. Her presence wasn't upsetting Gale; the little girl was just as much of a weird troublemaker as she was. Comfort loosened her posture, made her smiles come more easily. Normally Lisa didn't touch strangers, but now she put a gentle hand on Gale's shoulder. "I'm just like you," she said. "People never listen to me, either. It makes you feel completely alone, doesn't it?"
"It really does!" Gale smiled shyly at her, seemingly charmed by the friendly touch. "It sucks. I hate being alone all the time."
"I completely understand." Lisa smiled. "I spend most of my time alone, too. Now that my grandpa's in the hospital, it's just me in our big house. It gets kind of spooky at night."
"Oh my gosh, I bet! You really don't have anyone to help you out?" Gale sat down on her bed and picked up a purple octopus toy. "Come join me." Lisa obeyed and was rewarded with a black cat plushie.
"My brother drives over in the morning to take me to school." She hugged the cat to her chest. "And when he drops me off, he'll be with me for a bit. But he always leaves at nighttime."
"That sounds scary. My parents would never leave me alone for so long. Especially at night time!"
Indignation burned in Lisa's throat. "Well, I don't have any parents."
"Oh."
They fell into an awkward silence, glancing at one another, then looking away when their eyes met.
"Hello, ladies!" Mrs. Guan, the blonde nurse from earlier, appeared at the doorway. In her hands was a tray of food that had Lisa's mouth watering. She took a step forward, then noticed the puddles on the floor. Little lakes popped up wherever Lisa had stood, leading in a line straight to the window and then to Gale's bed. "Oh my goodness, is this a hospital or a water park? What on earth happened here? Gale, you didn't play a trick on this poor girl, did you?"
"I…" Lisa looked at Gale, who shot her a frantic look. "Um, I spilled some water on myself?"
"Oh ho ho!" Mrs. Guan giggled. "I get it. I was a clumsy kid when I was younger. You should see me when I'm in the kitchen! I've got to make simple, easy dishes or else I'll get stains all over myself. One time I got some chicken juice on the ceiling. Can you believe it? My husband gave me a real tongue lashing for that!"
"Uh-huh." Lisa eyed the delicious food. It smelled divine. But before she ate, she had to ask: "By the way, how did you get here so quickly? It took me forever to get here."
"Oh, I took the shortcut."
"There's a shortcut?!"
"Yes, dear! Didn't I tell you?" Lisa emphatically shook her head. "My bad. Anyway! I got your lunchy-poo. True to my word, I got a chicken sandwich, potato salad, sodey-pop and—of course—chocolate!"
"Thank you." After a long day of hunger, it smelled incredible. Lisa barely finished speaking before she threw her mouth into the sandwich, her last syllable devoured by a tidal wave of mustard, tomato and chicken breast. As Lisa ate, Gale threw a nervous look at the nurse.
"This girl told me you bribed her with food to get her to hang out with me. Is that true?"
"Of course not!" Mrs. Guan swore; at the same time, Lisa said "Yep!" through a mouthful of lettuce.
"Well, uh, it's like this," the nurse stammered. "She came here out of the goodness of her heart. The food was just, um, extra motivation. Isn't that right, dear?"
"Sure," Lisa said, ripping apart a wad of chicken. It was drenched in mayonnaise and mustard, a delicious explosion of flavors on her tongue.
"See? You're popular, Gale. Even strangers want to see you!"
Gale smiled weakly. "Thanks, ma'am. I appreciate it."
"Of course!" Mrs. Guan chirped. Before she left, her eyes narrowed at Lisa's shirt, as if she knew exactly what Gale had done. There was disappointment on her face, but not a lick of surprise. In a flash, her features shifted to a sugary smile, and she waved before stepping out.
Gale bumped her shoulder into Lisa's. "Thanks for covering for me," she said.
"No problem," Lisa said through her bite. Silence fell upon the room, save for her chewing and swallowing.
"You eat like an animal." Gale curled her lip when Lisa slurped up her potato salad. "It's kinda gross." Lisa snorted in response, like a pig at a trough.
"Ew, you're nasty!"
"I'm hungry," Lisa corrected. She licked her lips when the sandwich was done, smiling all the while.
"Uh, obviously. When was the last time you ate?"
"I mean, I had food this morning. But I haven't eaten something this good in forever," Lisa admitted. "Nowadays I make my own food. And I'm not really a cook." In reality, she rarely eats dinner. She has trouble keeping down what little she eats, anyway.
"Doesn't your brother help?"
Lisa scoffed. "Boys don't cook in the Armstrong household. I've been cooking since I was a little kid. My Grandpa said it's my job as the woman of the household."
"Ew, really? That's terrible!"
"That's just the way things are."
"Well...that's not okay. You shouldn't have to do everything yourself."
"Whatever." Lisa shrugged. "I'm used to it."
"Girl, you are amazing." Gale sighed. "I don't even know how to cook an egg."
"I'll teach you sometime."
Gale jumped to her feet, bouncing in excitement. "Really?!"
"Sure!" Lisa couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm. "But it's just an egg. Not really exciting."
"Girl, the egg's just an excuse for a sleepover! We could make cookies and watch whatever movies we wanted! We could even do nails and stay up all night. I mean, you have the whole house to yourself." Then a foreign thought pierced her elation, and she deflated. "Oh, but I can't go to your house until I get better. And who knows how long that can take?"
"You can't get out of here at all?" Lisa bit into her chocolate bar. "Like, you couldn't leave to go to the park down there?"
Gale walked over to the window, watching the brown dog and its owner leap and bound over the grassy hills. "I mean, I can go to the park, but only when I'm supervised. Like, a nurse has to be there, or my parents."
"If I went with you, would that count as supervision?"
Gale's greenish-brown eyes widened, and her freckled face broke into a smile. "I think it does! Let's do it!" She grabbed Lisa's hand started dragging her to the door, but Lisa shoved her chocolate bar and the soda bottle into her pockets. Free food should never go to waste.
"Are you going to take me down that mysterious shortcut?"
"No, we'll use another secret passage!" Gale laughed. "Sorry about sending you the long way. I thought it would be a fun way to prank my friend by being late, but…she never showed."
Lisa squeezed her hand. "Fuck her. At least I'm here."
"Oh my gosh, you're terrible!" Gale squealed. "But I'm glad you showed up, anyway. You're much more fun...wait, what's your name again?"
"I thought I was the Lady of the Lake?"
"No! Your real name!"
"Lisa." She held out her hand, and Gale beamed, pumping their hands like a businessman trying to make a strong first impression.
"Gale MacGavin! Nice to meet'cha."
"Wait...MacGavin like the governor?"
"Yep!" She lit up in happy surprise. "He's my grandpa!"
Suddenly, the large, fancy room makes sense. Of course a girl from a rich family could get special treatment. "Oh."
"I'm surprised you know who he is! A lot of kids don't know about him. I'm always saying, 'He's the guy who's making all the fish-men!'"
"Is he really making them? Or is he just paying other people to make them?"
"Tomatoes, to-ma-toes." Gale waved her hand like she was shooing away a fly. "Anyway, turn left here. When we get to the end, we can use the stairs."
"Can't we just use the elevator?"
Gale pursed her lips. "We could, but I'm afraid Mrs. Guan wouldn't let us. Technically, I'm not supposed to leave…"
"You're afraid of the nurse?" Lisa teased. "What are you, a chicken?"
"No, of course not!" Gale squawked. "I just...don't want to bother her anymore, that's all."
"Suuuuure."
"Shaddup!"
They giggled down the stony stairwell, a long descent through cold and industrial surroundings. Their shoes clapped against the cement stairs, and their hands brushed against the cold, cracked walls. At one point, Lisa nearly slipped in her wet shoes, but Gale caught her before she could fall. It was dark and dreary, but their high-pitched voices traded jokes and bounced laughter off the old walls. The silly sounds of happy children echoed everywhere as they chased each other and raced to see who can go down the fastest. Lisa felt light-headed and happy, like a bird that has just learned how to fly. This must be what having a sister feels like. She squeezed Gale's hand and felt pure bliss when her hand was squeezed back. They were like best friends who had known each other for years, too in sync to possibly be strangers. Cheerful and breathless. Reaching the final floor was a victory. Lisa raced towards it, but Gale flattened herself against the dirty wall and held up a cautious hand like she was a police officer about to break into a suspect's home. "Wait just a minute…"
"What are you doing?"
"Shhh!" A few moments passed before Gale dramatically threw open the door and dashed out. Lisa ran after her, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
"Girl, I can't believe we just did that!" Gale breaks into the enormous lobby and jumps a foot into the air, shaking her fists in excitement. "And we didn't even get caught!"
"I know, right?"
The hospital's front lobby was an enormous room stuffed with coughing people and nervous whispers. A large, glass facade revealed the outside of the building, which filled Lisa's mouth with the taste of freedom: she could see the acacia trees lining the front entrance, the stone walkway where families gathered and drank in the sun. The room felt stifling: sick people waited in chairs, holding their heads and moaning; parents patted their children's hair for comfort; nurses welcomed newcomers, handing out clipboards like candy with expressionless faces. Lisa wanted to break free with her precious new friend.
Holding hands, Gale and Lisa sneaked towards the front door, trying to suppress their smiles. Winding through the crowd of strangers, they reached the glass doors that would open up a world of freedom. Soon they would run across to the street to a land of green grass, fresh air, and running dogs.
Then Lisa looked up, and her breath died in her throat.
Brad walked up to the front doors, his eyes glassy and his red face etched in anger. It looked like he just got back from a fight; there were new bruises on his knuckles, and he clutched his head like he had a migraine. "Gale, wait, stop—"
"Lisa?" His beady eyes widened when they fall upon her face. Then they drifted down to her chest, and his face went hard with anger. "What the fuck did you do?"
"Nothing! I just got some water spilled on me."
"You need to change." He ripped Lisa from Gale's grip. "We're going home."
"But my friend and I were just about to play!"
"Now!" Brad yelled, and Lisa flinched. Gale's mouth dropped open in shock, and Lisa's tongue soured with the taste of disappointment. In one moment, something bright and beautiful shriveled into ashes. There was no more excitement or admiration in Gale's greenish-brown eyes. Now, her face was drawn in an expression of disgust. Maybe Lisa should have seen this coming. Why would a rich girl with a loving family want to be friends with her? Judging from the shock on her face, Gale had never known family members could shout and claw or drag one another away, kicking and screaming.
"Sorry, Gale!" Lisa called out. But the little girl just stared, dumb-founded, a statue of surprise that shrank the farther Brad dragged Lisa away.
"Brad, stop it!"
"You need a new shirt," he said gruffly. "People can't see you like this."
"Someone spilled some water on me, that's all." He shook his head, and her voice turned whiny, like a child's. "I'm telling the truth!"
They rushed down the pavilion of shady trees, where families lingered and whispered comforting words to one another. There were no soft whispers between her and Brad. Lisa's voice was hoarse and frightened when she dug her heels in and pulled away: "Don't you want to see Grandpa?"
"I saw him earlier. Now come on!" He jerked her arm, and her whole body lurched forward. She was bitterly silent the whole way home, crossing her arms and scowling as the city flew by.
Then they turned right where they should have turned left, and she glanced at him. His mouth was twisted downwards, and his eyes were dark in shadows. Every muscle in his body was taut with tension.
He wouldn't look back at her.
Lisa hid her chest under her arms. Why did it upset him so much? It wasn't her fault. It was Gale's. Just a silly prank. Was he upset because he thought she was being clumsy and childish? Did he think she was disgracing the family name by running around in a ruined shirt?
The minute he saw her chest, he freaked out. She looked down. The fabric clung to her skin, wet and translucent. Was that the issue? Was her body so horrifically disgusting that the mere sight of her skin was enough to make him a monster? He never treated her like this before. What was so wrong about her body now?
He drove up to his apartment building, which she hadn't seen in a long time. She wanted to ask what was going on, but her voice died in her throat. It felt like one wrong word would set him off. He'd already bruised her arm with how tightly he held on. So when he stepped out of his car and slammed the door shut, she didn't wait for him to yell, "Get out." She meekly slipped out and followed him, head down like she expected a beating.
The last time she visited his apartment, it looked like a cool bachelor pad, something out of a movie. Brad hung up records and music posters with Alfonse Mucha art and men jamming on guitars. He had shining trophies on the mantle and beer bottles neatly organized above his kitchen cabinets.
Now, it looked like a tornado ravaged the place. There was a hole in the wall. Trash cluttered the kitchen table, and dirt marred the walls. It must have been weeks since he last cleaned. Glass shards glimmered in the living room carpet, like he'd thrown a bottle and missed a few pieces when he tried to clean it up.
"Brad, why are we here?"
He stomped into a room, rustling and slamming cabinet doors. When he emerged, he threw a big shirt at her. "Put that on." It was made of soft, crimson cotton.
"Thanks," she whispered. Maybe he just wanted to help her as soon as possible. Maybe I'm overthinking it, she thought. He's always been quiet. When she lifted the bottom of her white shirt to take it off, his booming voice made her flinch.
"Change in the bathroom. I don't need to see that."
"Um, okay?" She had changed in front of him countless times before. Never had he yelled at her for doing so. Frightened, she shuffled into the dirty bathroom, with grimy windows and trash overflowing from the small can beside the toilet. Here, in this filthy room, she took off her white shirt and slipped on the dry, red clothing he'd given her. It felt comfortable, and it smelled like Brad.
But his scent no longer comforted her.
She rifled through the cabinets aimlessly, delaying her escape from the room. Although it was grimy, here she could be alone. She dreaded leaving this small haven and returning to the black cloud that had devoured her brother.
What's wrong with him? Is it me? She looked the same as she always did, with pale blue eyes and messy black hair. Her body was all knobby knees and too-long limbs. Ugly. Did Brad hate her because she was older now? Did he see her as a woman now, instead of as his sister?
She wishes she could have stayed small forever. At that point in her life, she'd never dreamed of killing her father or hating her body. "Don't think of him," she told herself. Pointed a finger at her reflection, twisted her features into a grim mask of determination. Pretended she was in Thomas' small office, overlooking the city. He always told her she was enough, so she whispered those words to the blurry girl in the mirror. "You are enough. You shouldn't be ashamed."
Unconvinced, she took a deep sigh and gripped the sink. Her breathing exercises helped a little bit. She would have to talk about this with Thomas later; maybe he could shed some light on why Brad was acting so weird. Absentmindedly, she pulled open the cabinets, which were full of shaving supplies and a hairbrush with so many black strands it looked like a tiny animal. She plucked the thick, wiry hair and plopped the little black rat into the trashcan. Outside the room, Brad shuffled and sighed and muttered to himself, his voice low and angry. When she pressed her ear to the door, she heard him slam down the phone receiver. Who was he talking to? What was on his mind?
She didn't want to find out. Afraid of being yelled at again, she walked around the room, started searching under the sink. Hidden behind a bottle of toilet cleaner was a magazine. Glossy pages of big-breasted woman shone in the light. Lisa snickered out of childish satisfaction at finding out a dirty secret; then she wilted at the implications. Even you, Brad? She thought he was pure. But even her big brother had yucky little nudie mags. She slipped it back into its hiding place and sat on the floor for a long time.
There weren't any razors in Brad's bathroom. It was probably for the best.
It felt like an eternity had passed before Lisa stepped out into Brad's apartment. A dull purple glow swallowed the last remnants of golden light, and now the sky looked like a fading bruise. There were no stars in the outside world, which has gotten darker and quieter. Lisa stepped carefully, watching for broken glass on the carpet. She heard nothing, except for the faint sound of Brad's snoring.
His large body was sprawled over his old brown couch, a gift from one of his childhood friends. Uncle Rick, the man introduced himself as. "Do you remember me?" He had asked her, all eager-eyed. "No," she had told him, and his face fell.
Was that why Brad hated her? Should she lie more? What types of lies should she tell for him to like her? What kind of person would he like?
She stood over his sleeping body. He clutched something in his meaty hand, but all of her prodding and pulling proved fruitless. His grip was strong as iron. Strong enough to rip two girls apart. An open bottle of booze lies on the table. It tastes so bad she gags.
"Brad, can you take me home?"
He answered with a rippling snore, like a motorcycle turning on. Thank God for the food she had earlier, because there was nothing edible in his refrigerator. Bored out of her mind, she cleared up the fast-food wrappers on the floor and threw them into the trash, which overflowed with bottles. Hennessy, Smirnoff, Jack Daniel's, the labels said. She has seen those bottles before in Marty's trash can. At least Brad didn't fall asleep with the TV on, filling the room with flashing lights and robotic laughter. Lisa knew she should be grateful and she is here and not in Marty's house; she knew things have gotten so much better than they were before.
She tip-toed to the kitchen so her tears won't wake him up. Flies buzz around the bare lightbulb, and she weeps into her hands, fear and loathing flowing up from her stomach and pouring out of her sopping eyes. Yes, things were better than they were before, but was it so greedy of her to want a normal life? She just wanted Grandpa to be strong and healthy again. And she wanted Brad, not this furious monster that wore her brother's face.
A hard lump swelled in her throat. Maybe she deserved this. Maybe it was a test of her strength.
Who was she to think she could be friends with someone like Gale? She had no business laughing and holding hands with the granddaughter of a governor. What could she possibly have in common with a happy little rich girl with parents who indulged her and a staff full of nurses who did whatever she wanted?
Lisa didn't belong in that colorful hospital room, filled with sunflowers and hot air balloon paintings and purple octopus plushies. Maybe this was where Lisa belonged: In a dirty, beaten-down apartment with holes in the walls. She didn't need indulgent parents who smothered her in love. She was fine here.
I'll get through this, she thought. Like Grandpa always said, Armstrongs are made of tougher stuff.