Excerpt Sliding

SLIDING ON RAINBOWS

By Jeanette Cottrell

One

Dad says the world is nuts, except for Mom and me. I’m starting to think he’s right. ‘ Normal ’ is what I wanted when I started seventh grade. Normal Crystal Hendrix, in a normal school, in a normal town, with normal parents, and most of all, a normal sister. Yeah, right. Like Lissie could ever be a normal kindergartner!

I’m twelve now, going on six or thirty-six, depending. That’s what Mom says. Dad says age is a state of mind, but he still celebrates birthdays. I have one sister, Lissie, and a cat named Mowser that rules the household with an iron paw. We live in Oregon , about an hour from the coast. It’s sunny in the summer, and rains the rest of the year. We’re used to it.

I zipped to school the first day, dragging Lissie behind me. I dumped her at kindergarten and dashed across the street to the middle school to find Aileen. Aileen and I had Language Arts. We tried to sit together, but Mrs. Dominguez raised an eyebrow. I gave her an innocent look, but she just stared at me. I switched seats. In a small town, it seems like everybody knows everybody else.

Aileen made a face. She held her hand down low and started spelling in AMSLAM, the deaf sign language. We learned it out of an encyclopedia. It’s really useful.

“B-E-T-H,” she spelled.

“Aileen,” said Mrs. Dominguez sweetly.

“Hmm?” Aileen looked at her.

“This class is a little full. Perhaps you’d like to move into Mrs. Moreno’s class, permanently. What do you think?”

Aileen gave her a sickly smile, and folded her hands on top of her desk. Mrs. Moreno? Ick! Mrs. Dominguez’ mouth quirked at the corner. She pointed at Aileen, then at me, and shook her finger. She picked up her roll book, and started calling out names. She’s okay, really.

I meant to wander over to the kindergarten at recess and check on Lissie, but Aileen and I started making plans for an attack on the boy’s bathroom. Last year, we got in there and put pink ruffles around the mirrors. I nearly died laughing, seeing their faces when they came out, stuffing pink paper in all the trashcans.

The school day raced to the finish line. Aileen and I went over to Mom’s store. Mom runs a computer store. We generally go there after school. It’s cool, being the first one in town to test out games and new computer systems. Dad teaches history at the high school. I don’t like history much. It doesn’t fit together, really, just a bunch of stories strung in a line. I can’t get a handle on it. I like things to make sense, like computers do.

“Computers are Crystal-clear,” Dad jokes, and we all groan. Crystal-Hendrix-clear, he means.

“Hi, Crystal . Hi, Aileen, long time no see.” Mom twinkled at us. She claims Aileen and I were joined at the hip sometime in third grade.

After an hour or so on the computer games, I noticed we hadn’t had to shove Lissie off the best graphics monitor. She’ll spend hours just changing designs. She doesn’t even draw trees or dogs, just changes colors, and lets the program do a color kaleidoscope. She does it for hours, it seems like. It drives me bats.

“Have you seen Lissie?” I asked Aileen. Aileen was all wound up in Dragons and Warriors, the best computer game in the world.

“No. Maybe she’s in the back. Wow, look, a Class IV Turbo Wombat! How do you kill these things?”

“Well, the Disco Rat went down with the fire extinguisher.”

“It’s worth a try.”

Class IV Turbo Wombats don’t extinguish worth a darn. It slaughtered Aileen and me in record time. Someday, I swear, I’m going to beat that level.

“How do you think she did today?” Aileen asked. We looked at each other. Lissie’s a bit on the weird side and people pick on her. A couple months ago, Aileen and I turned a hose on Eric and Kyle when they started swooping around Lissie on their skateboards. They’d left her alone after that, mostly.

“She did fine, I guess. Why wouldn’t she?”

“You don’t think she started talking about Joey again, do you?”

“Mom and Dad told her not to talk to Joey at school. Or about him.” I started to worry though. “We’d better find her.”

Sure enough, she was in the last place we looked. She’d hidden in the dark corner of the storeroom, a cloud of fluffy blonde hair around huge green eyes. I flipped on the light and scooted under the table.

“Hey, Lissie, are you okay?”

“Mmm.” That meant yes.

“How was school? Fun?”

She shrugged.

“Lissie? Was the teacher mean to you or something?”

She shook her head. When Lissie shuts up and hides away, she’s not always upset. She could be thinking, or dreaming. I yanked her out from under the table.

“Hey, Liss, what did you learn in school?”

She turned her head away from me. I stared at her, waiting. Finally, she whispered, “Colors.”

“That’s neat. Primaries and secondaries, and all that, huh? I’ll bet you did great. Come on, Mom got in a supercool graphics monitor. You’re usually all over those things. Have you seen it?” Lissie shook her head. “Well, come on, let’s see what a dragon looks like on it.”

I pulled her behind me, and we got into Dragons and Warriors again. That graphics acceleration just drove us nuts. I felt like I was flying on the dragon’s back! Aileen and I messed with the options, and got it to shoot out green and blue flames instead of yellow and red.

“ Crystal ?” said Lissie. “What’s purple?”

“Huh?” I said absently. “It’s a color, dummy, like a plum.”

Aileen jimmied with the joystick, and got a purple dragon. “See?” she said proudly, “like that. Let’s go after the Turbo Wombat again. I’ve got an idea.”

We dove into the maze again. Lissie stayed in my lap, looking kind of spacey. Her hair floated around her head like soap bubbles hanging in the air. I brushed it away from my face. Lissie’s hair has always been like that, bright gold, silky, and flyaway. I’ve got limp brown hair. Life isn’t fair.

Half an hour later, Mom closed up the store, and heartlessly shut down our game. Aileen looked at her watch, shrieked, and raced out the door. We got into the car, and Mom asked about school.

“Mom, you know what Bethany said today?” I said. I started to steam.

“ Crystal , are you going to start obsessing about Bethany again this year?”

“Yeah, I know, but she really bugs me. She told Sarah—”

Lissie interrupted. “Mom, what’s purple?”

I rolled my eyes, but Mom answered matter-of-factly. “It’s a secondary color, made from red and blue, honey.”

Now why hadn’t I thought of that? Lissie turned quiet again.

The evening passed as they always did, with Mom and me chattering up a storm, Dad teasing us, and tossing Lissie in the air. He finally broke a smile out of her just before she headed off to bed. I collapsed on the sofa and started rereading the umpteenth Oz book. Mom did something with her laptop computer. Dad sat in his chair smiling, staring at nothing. He does that a lot. Lissie must get it from him. It’s not like they’re being lazy, or stupid. They’re just thinking too hard to do anything else.

A white flutter caught my eye: Lissie, in her nightgown, looking sad. Mom reached out to her, but Lissie didn’t seem to notice. She walked slowly, step by step, to Dad. She stood right in front of him stiffly, and watched his face for a long, long time. He must have seen her, but he didn’t say a thing. He just closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

“Daddy,” she said. Her voice wobbled. “What’s purple?”

A dreamy smile crossed Dad’s face. “Purple. The color of kings and noble thoughts. Purple mountains majesty.” Lissie listened intently. “Good deeds, Lissie love. Beauty. That’s purple.”

All the stiffness melted out of her. She climbed into his lap and snuggled close, his arms around her. She was still there when I went to bed.

~ * ~

Joey’s been around ever since Lissie could talk. Starting when she was two, if you asked her what she’d done that day, it was always ‘Joey said this,’ or ‘Joey and Daddy and I went to the park.’ I couldn’t even joke about him. I asked her once if she shared her cookies with Joey.

“Joey doesn’t eat at our house!” she said in disgust.

Apparently, ghosts don’t eat, tie knots in shoelaces, or lose library books. Eventually, I quit teasing her about Joey, and Lissie quit treating me like a total nitwit.

Lissie never figured out why people acted so weird about Joey. She went ballistic when people laughed at her. So she stayed home and played there, where it was safe, just her and Joey. Sometimes another little kid came over to play, but she never went hunting for them. She liked being alone. She didn’t think she was alone.

Before she started school, Dad told her she had to leave Joey home when she went to school.

“But Daddy, he’ll be lonely!”

“Lissie, if he goes to school, other kids might tease both of you.” The way Dad talked about Joey, you’d think Dad could see him, too.

“We always do everything together!” Lissie’s chin wobbled.

“I know you do. You can play with him after school as much as you want. But Crystal can’t take Mowser to school or cousin Jeff when he comes to visit. It’s just the same thing, Lissie. The teachers aren’t set up to handle Joey in the classroom. Believe me, I know!”

The first couple of weeks were fine for me, but they had lots of ups and downs for Lissie. Sometimes she’d come home happy, sometimes in one of her quiet, dreamy moods, and sometimes as stiff as a store manikin. Mom and Dad went to talk to her teacher once, and I heard Mom on the phone with her another time. I figured things would relax after a while.

I finally did go over at recess one day. Lissie sat by herself, scrunched up against a wall. She wouldn’t talk to me. I crouched in front of her.

“Come on, Liss, come play with the kids,” I said.

“Crystal Hendrix!” Miss Flanders came up behind me with her busy little steps. “ Crystal , you’re not supposed to leave your own campus.”

“I was just checking on my sister. Mom asked me to,” I lied.

“ Crystal ,” said Miss Flanders, tightening her lips so they nearly disappeared. “Your sister will be just fine without you. The other older children aren’t allowed to visit, and you may not either.”

“But Lissie’s upset, Miss Flanders. Please...” It’s a waste of time trying to explain anything to Miss Flanders. All during fourth grade, we were stuck with each other. For a while, I’d hated school.

“I will take care of Lissie. Come along, dear.”

She took Lissie’s hand. Lissie tried to flinch away, but Miss Flanders ignored her. They went to the sandbox. I trailed behind. Miss Flanders plunked Lissie in with three other little girls. They glared at Lissie.

“Now, children,” said Miss Flanders. I hated the way she always talked to ‘children.’ It made me want to bite her.

A little girl scowled and stuck out her lower lip. “We don’t like that girl. She cheats.”

“Now, now, dear, I’m sure there’s just been a little misunderstanding. We mustn’t make assumptions.”

“She does, too,” insisted a second girl. “We played hide-and-seek, and she watched everybody hide! She’s a cheater. Mommy says not to play with cheaters.”

“Lissie never cheats,” I said hotly. “She’s just better at finding—”

“ Crystal !” snapped Miss Flanders. “I’m perfectly capable of handling this myself. Go to your own campus immediately!”

“But...” How can you tell a teacher about people like Lissie? Or Dad, come to that? We never play hide-and-seek at our house. It’s a waste of time. Dad always knows where everyone is. That’s why he doesn’t care when we run off to explore at the beach or in the mountains. He can always find us the moment he looks. Lissie’s the same way. From the time she could walk, I could never hide from her. She looked for my ‘colors,’ and there I was.

“Crystal Hendrix, do you want to discuss this with the principal?”

I didn’t. I tried to catch Lissie’s eye, but she just sat there, suffering. What could I say, or do? Nothing. I couldn’t stand looking at her anymore. I turned and ran.

After school, I tackled Mom.

“What do we tell Lissie to do?” I asked. “Cheat and pretend she can’t find anyone? What did Dad do when he was little?”

Mom sighed. “Your father is a law unto himself. I’ll talk to him about it tonight.” Lissie plodded around the store with her watering can. We watched her. “I wish he could find cats, though,” she said, changing the subject. “Mowser didn’t show up this morning. I went by the house at lunchtime, but she wasn’t there then either.”

“She’s probably out picking a fight somewhere. I’ll go hunt for her. Can I take Lissie with me?” I chuckled, trying to prod Mom into a grin. “Maybe she can find cats, then teach Dad!”

Mom smiled faintly. “It’s worth a try.”

Lissie perked up some when we started searching the yard for Mowser.

“Hey, Lissie, can you pull your magic stunt, and find her?”

Lissie ducked her head, and her mouth sank at the corner. I gave her a hug.

“Liss, I wasn’t being mean! I’m just worried about Mowser. What’s she going to eat? What if she’s at the pound, or somebody ran over her?” Her hurt look faded, and she hugged me, too. I crouched there, trying to figure out where I’d go if I were a cat. Where? Think, think, think…

“Maybe Joey knows,” Lissie said in a very small voice.

I started to say something rude, but stopped. “Maybe so. Why don’t you ask him?”

For a long moment, no one spoke. “Joey?” said Lissie out loud.

Well, of course, nothing happened. Lissie’s eyes went wide, and she pulled away from me.

“Joey? Where are you?” She ran into the house looking for Joey, her voice growing shrill. The front door slammed shut and the garage door banged against the wall. I followed along behind her, hunting for Mowser as I went.

“Joey!” Lissie crouched under Dad’s big motorized saw, talking earnestly to empty space. “Daddy said you couldn’t come to school with me. It’s not my fault, Joey, really,” she said tearfully to the thin air and cobwebs.

I folded my lips together, the way Mom does when she’s afraid she’ll say something nasty. I circled the garage, then the houses on either side of us, calling Mowser. I started to get really worried. Lissie emerged from the garage, dusty and triumphant.

“Joey says she got locked in Mr. Harper’s garage early this morning. Come on, Crystal, Joey, we’ll go get her.”

Bewildered, I trotted along behind. I hoped she never took Joey to school with her. She’d probably forget and start playing tag with him. They’d lock her in the nuthouse by lunchtime. Why couldn’t I have a normal sister, one who talked to Barbie dolls?

The Harpers were gone, but their garage had a few things to say. “Yowl!”

“Mowser! Hey, girl, we’ll get you out.”

“Yowl, mmrrooooowwww!” Mowser’s hoarse screeches grew more demanding and frantic.

“Mowser, Mowser,” Lissie crooned. “Just wait a minute, honey.” She squatted by the locked door, talking.

I peered at garage windows and cracks around all three sides. The windows were about a foot wide, and near the roof. I scratched my head for minute. Maybe I could get Mowser to climb up to one, and let her out that way. I could probably reach a window, if I climbed on the roof, and hung over the edge. I climbed onto the fence, and tried to haul myself onto the roof.

“ Crystal ? Whatcha doing?” Lissie stood there, holding Mowser. Mowser’s purr rattled the air.

“How did you get her out?” I asked, amazed.

“Joey told me.” She led me around the garage, and pointed to a rusty vent grate hanging from the wall. “I pulled it away, and Mowser came out.”

I flushed. I’d seen the grate, but hadn’t figured out what to do with it. I fitted it back into place, and we walked home. Mowser insisted that I lug her every inch of the way. She swarmed around our necks, her rusty purr telling us all the terrors of a martyred cat in an empty garage.

Maybe this Joey-thing wasn’t as crazy as I’d thought.

“Why did Joey hide from you?” I asked casually.

Lissie rubbed her face against Mowser’s. “He wants to come to school with me. His mother says he can’t. Mom and Dad say he can’t. He got mad, until he started talking to the Prince.”

“The who?”

“Prince Kael—” Lissie caught herself and shut her mouth.

Another Joey-type? One might possibly be okay, but two would put me in the nuthouse by lunchtime.

Sometimes, it’s better not to ask.

“That’s really neat the way you and Joey found Mowser and rescued her.”

Lissie actually grinned and hugged Mowser. Mowser is dingy yellow, and pretty beat-up because she insists on defending our house against all comers. But she purrs louder than Kyle beats the school drums. I ruffled up her short, ratty yellow fur.

“Hey, Liss? Mowser’s yellow. What’s yellow?”

Lissie glanced at me mischievously. “It’s a color, dummy, like a lemon.”

I burst out laughing, and Lissie laughed, too. I hadn’t heard her laugh in a long time. We got to the house, and brought Mowser inside with us. She made a beeline for the food bowl. I called Mom and told her we’d found the cat. I didn’t tell her about Joey.

Lissie headed off towards her room, taking Mowser with her. I guess Joey went with her, too. As I switched on our computer, Lissie’s head poked out from the hallway.

“ Crystal ? Yellow is love.”

Available in the Young Adult section at Wings ePress