Sister

I couldn't stop thinking about what happened at the antique shop. I mean, maybe it's time for me to grow up. I've spent so much time thinking about my past, England, Mr. and Mrs. James. I want to be lanky and pretty like the women in the secret room. I want to whisper in the ear of a man, and I want him to laugh at my clever jokes. Ms. Abee said I am beautiful. It's a new thought. I'm tired of being nothing. I could be like them. Beautiful.

I can go now. To Ms. Abee's. I can tell her that I'll do it. It's noon. I guess it's a good time.

I dress different today. I slide on a sequined turquoise dress and some pointy, black boots. And a quick hooded jacket to disguise myself from Amber and Marge.

I rush downstairs. "Where are you going, Kaiya?" Amber asks, not even looking up from her self-help therapy book.
"I'll be back," I say in my most careless, confident tone of voice.

I run to the store. Halfway I decide that maybe running is childlike. That I have enough time. At the front, I see the store is closed. Closed now? Well, I guess I don't really know the hours for this kind of place, anyway.

I hear a scream from afar. A crash. Laughter. I see a spark of orange smoke. I approach the noise. A giant group of people surrounds a mound of burning books. "Kaika! Sweet Kaiya! You came! I knew you would!" It's Ms. Abee.

"Yes! I'll do it!" I have to scream...it's so loud all around us.

"Here!" she hands me a dark green bottle, half-full. "Drink! Be merry! Haha!" She dances, stumbling a bit every now and then. I take a small, unsure sip. Sour, sour. "Kandi, come here, meet KIE-YAAH! HEEHEE! Isn't she gorgeous?!"

Kandi is a pretty girl with light green eyes. She looks about 23. She is dressed in a bold yellow tube dress. "Hi!" She yells to me. "I'm Kandi."

"Kaiya," I shake her hand. Then, Kandi and I talk. For a long time. About Ms. Abee, about the antique store, the weather, my place, her place, the town, and tadpoles. We talked so much that we could hardly pay much attention to the beggars and Ms. Abee's girls joining to throw in their finished bottles of whiskey, rum, and vodka, their dancing, their singing.

I want Kandi to be my sister.