Thursday, October 9, 2008

Beth Mandl


In the Dark

“Are you awake” I say into darkened bedroom.

“I am now.” My little sister’s voice trails down to me from the top bunk. Little. Not so little anymore I guess. “Can’t sleep?” she says.

“Nope.” I stare out the bedroom window and watch the snow erratically flit in and out of the glow of the street lamp. It’s warm in the house but I pull the covers a little tighter around me anyway. “It’s weird being back in the house, huh?”

“Weirder for you than me I guess. I come to see them once a month or so, you haven’t been back in four years.”

“I live across the country Tess, it’s not cheap to fly back and forth!”

“Geeeeeezus Jeff, calm down. I’m just saying that it’s weirder for you than it is for me. I do think it’s a little weird that they turned my room into the hobby room and yours still looks like it did when you moved out, especially since I’m the one that’s here all the time, but whatever.”

My right eyebrow rises in the dark but nobody sees it so the effect is lost on all but me. “Easy kitty, your claws are showing.”

“Sorry, too many years in the shadow of the almighty Jeff has left me an empty shell of a woman constantly looking for validation from parents who quite frankly wouldn’t notice or care if I was eaten by a pack of rabid raccoons. It’s made me a little bitter.” She laughs as she says this but I know that she didn’t have it easy when we were growing up and that even in jest, truth lays heavy.

“Things will change tomorrow sis. The mighty will fall and all that.”

“Jeff, do you really think you should do this tomorrow?”

The miniature Christmas tree sitting on the desk in the corner blinks faintly; red then green then blue. I remember hanging homemade ornaments on that tree and proudly dragging my mom in to see it. It used to make me happy but now only represents an innocence that is forever lost; an innocent belief that parents love you no matter what. Because there are some things you just know he won’t accept. “Tess, I’ve hid from this for a long time. Nancy says to treat it like a band-aid. Get it out fast; no muss no fuss. It’ll only hurt a second.”

A small sigh escapes from above, “Yeah but the thing is, I don’t think it will only hurt for a second. I think it will hurt you for a long time. Not to mention what it will do to mom being stuck in the middle, because you know she will.”

I stare up at the bottom of the top bunk and say, “Do you really think it will be any better if I wait another day, or until next week? Or would it be better if I wait until next year? Better yet, maybe I should just never say anything and just die with it in my heart; never having said anything. Knowing that even though my dad still loves me he never really knew I was a fake.” I swipe angrily at a rampant tear.
~

“Babe, I love you and all but that was a little dramatic, even for you.”

"Well what the Hell Tess!”

“Look Jeff, don’t yell at me because you’re scared. I’m just trying to make sure you know what you’re doing. Once you say it you can’t take it back.”

“Don’t you think I know that Tess? Don’t you think I have played the scenario out a million and one times in my head? I have. I don’t know any other way to do it. It’s not like I can sugar coat it. It is what it is. I am who I am…and apparently I can’t change it. I don’t think I want to anymore anyway.”

“I know that Jeff.”
~

“Are you mad about it Tess?”

“Mad about what you’re doing?” she asks.

“No, I mean about everything. Are you mad that they bet on the wrong kid? All those years you had to hear about how you should be more like me. Does it bug you that all along they were wrong? That you were the perfect one and that I was the messed up one?”

“If that’s really how you feel about yourself then maybe you aren’t ready to say it tomorrow.” She says angrily.
~

“I used to be.” She says. “Mad that is. I used to think about how easy it would be to just tell them myself and then wouldn’t they shut up real fast. I used to dream about how dad would fall down at my feet and weep while begging for my forgiveness.”

“Wow.” I whisper.

“But I don’t anymore. He wouldn’t do that anyway, I guess.”
~

“Are you scared?” Tess asks me.

“Yeah.”

I hear the creaking of the bed as Tess rolls to the end and climbs down the ladder. “Scoot” she says as she slips in beside me. She leans over and grabs the old yellow flashlight from the side table and turns it on. She sits forward and holds the flashlight under her chin so that the light gives her face a sort of devilish pixie look and she says, “Legend tells of a woman named Bloody Mary………”

I settle in to listen, already thinking of what story I’ll tell when it’s my turn, and I know, even if it’s only for tonight, everything is ok.

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About Me

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I write short stories and essays. I have published well over one hundred stories, essays, and flash fictions or nonfictions in magazines or anthologies, as well as a novel, Jack's Universe, three collections of stories, Private Acts, Killers & Others, and Not a Jot or a Tittle, and two chapbooks of flash fiction, Shutterbug and Dragon Box. I grew up in a military family, so I'm not from anywhere in particular except probably Akron, where I've lived for forty years. Before I came here, I never lived anywhere longer than three years.