Vibrations rose from each slam of my hand on the surface of the drum. I moved with practice, my eyes more in front of me than on the instrument itself. Leaves obstruct the full view of the stage from where I was, but not the audience. I searched the crowd, attempting to find my mother once again and hoping she did not leave out of disappointment of boredom. She\u2019s still there, with the smile that takes up her entire face. My aunt was beside her, a camera in her hand. My older cousin, Najah, looked bored, but she always does. She was always kind of mean, but becoming a teenager only made her meaner. On the other side of my mother was my grandmother and great aunt, who look politely invested. My great grandparents, GG and Pop Pop were not present. Pop Pop had recently had a health scare that put him in the hospital and GG was with him, but nearly everyone else was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On the stage, in the center, was my younger cousin, Ciera. She was a mouse, and I wished to be a mouse as well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Our roles in the production were dictated by age. Everyone had a part to play. The older kids created the set, painting the colors of the forest for the story of the little mouse. Even though their role in the production was completed prior to opening night, they were told to come and support. They could be heard, in the back, laughing and goofing around. All were soon to be teenagers and therefore soon to be a part of the elite, evil force that I was so terrified of.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then there were the ones just a bit younger than, around the age of ten, which were the stagehands. Like me, they were dressed in all black. I don\u2019t think the audience could hear them, but I could, ruffling behind the curtains, hushed whispers as they watched from the side and waited for their cues.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And then there was my group, with me being eight at the time, we were the music. On the sides of the stage, so not to take away from the main focus, we did our practiced songs. We drummed into the story of the mouse in the jungle that had something to do with God, as all things did in church camp, though I couldn\u2019t remember what the connection was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Finally, there were the youngest kids, which included my nearly six-year-old little cousin, Ciera. They told the story, playing the roles of the jungle animals and dressing the part. Ciera played the main role, the mouse, and I found myself wrapped in green vine while watching her in the spotlight. The mouse ears on her head stayed in place. Her face was transformed, the gray and white colors glowed under the spotlight, and the sparkles danced on her skin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I wondered if my mother was disappointed, like I was, that I had no chance to be on the stage. I wondered what would have happened if my cousin and I were the same age. Would she still get the lead role? Would I find myself to be one of the forgettable animals, like a frog. I pictured my face, painted a bright, lime green, still behind my bright and shining cousin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Movement in the audience brought my attention back to my family, I watched as my grandmother and great aunt began to excuse themselves, shimmying out of the seats and hastily walking to the door. I looked quickly at the ones who remained, my mother, aunt, and cousin. Najah still looked like she\u2019d rather be anywhere else, but she did also look curiously at my mother and aunt, who were talking hastily to each other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked over at the stage, Ciera was not on it at the time, likely somewhere behind the curtains. Would she notice that two members of our party had left? I looked again at my aunt and mother, who had since gone quiet, looking at the stage. My aunt\u2019s camera was not up, my mother\u2019s smile was not on. Both of them seemed to be looking straight through the wall, as though there were something outside of it that only they could make out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Had we done something wrong? Had Ciera? Had I? No one else in the audience seemed to be affected by whatever had happened to my family. I imagined invisible forces sucking the life out of them like the dementors in the Harry Potter movie, and their skin turning chalky gray as a result like the people in Halloweentown 2. I missed my cue, the drummers to the right and left going while I\u2019d remained staring out into the audience. As hard as I tried, I couldn\u2019t seem to find the right place, I just moved my hands over the drum, finally coming in with a slam of my hand with a final vibrating sound at the end. I looked out into the audience; my mother didn\u2019t notice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When we took our final bows, my mother and aunt did not clap much, but instead my aunt took Najah by the wrist and pulled her forward, my mother took the lead. She saw me and motioned for me to join them while my aunt did the same to my cousin. The camp directors stood in the front, saying thanks to the participants and the parents, and, of course, to God. I struggled to get to the end of the stage and looked back for Ciera, who looked confused and small, like the mouse she was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The car ride was silent. My aunt didn\u2019t put on music like she often did. When I\u2019d asked where my grandmother and great aunt went, they gave me a short, uninformed answer. I pictured my aunt and mother soulless. And then I remembered, just before they\u2019d gone gray, that they had been whispering about something in the audience. There was something they knew that I didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I decided to ask. \u201cMom… What\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She said nothing at first, and for one moment my heart hurt at the thought that she really was without a soul. But finally, she said, \u201cNot now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I felt my face wrinkle up, wondering what the big secret was. I looked to Najah, who had not known at first but I could tell knew since getting in the car. She looked out the window, refusing to look at any of us. I tapped on Ciera\u2019s shoulder; with the booster seat we were the same height. She looked at me with large eyes, her face still a mouse, still sparkling in the sun.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I lifted my chin up and became all business, as I often did when we would play together being that I was older. \u201cThere\u2019s a secret,\u201d I said to her. She blinked, long eyelashes tangling. \u201cNo one is telling us what it is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI wanna know the secret,\u201d Ciera said, immediately on my side against everyone else. Her eyebrows started to frown up, her gray face wrinkling and she looked to my aunt. \u201cMommy what\u2019s the secret?\u201d I looked to my aunt, hoping that there was pressure to tell us now that we both knew we weren’t being told something. Najah still just looked out the window. \u201cMommy!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCiera Shay,\u201d my aunt snapped without turning around. I saw Ciera sink into herself. \u201cCalm down, now, before I stop this car and make you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ciera\u2019s big eyes got wet. I couldn\u2019t help thinking this wasn\u2019t how things were supposed to be. We\u2019d just done our big show, and now we were close to getting in trouble for just asking too much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Being as clever as I always felt I was, I thought of a plan. \u201cCiera,\u201d I whispered. \u201cI have an idea.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOkay,\u201d she whispered back, much louder than me. I didn\u2019t want anyone to hear in the close confines of the car, so I was careful to speak under my breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf we have a secret, they\u2019ll want to know what it is, and they can know how it feels and then tell us the secret.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ciera\u2019s eyes brightened at my brilliance. \u201cWhat\u2019s our secret?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I leaned over as much as the seat belt would let me and whispered in her ear, \u201cPretend I have a secret, I\u2019ll make one up later. Now say it was a good secret.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When I leaned back, Ciera said loudly, \u201cThat\u2019s a good secret!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I grinned to myself. I didn\u2019t realize it before, when we were in different parts of the church camp, learning different parts of the bible and having different roles in the big show, but this is what was right. Ciera and I were a team, had been for as long as I could remember. It had been wrong to split us up the way they had. I was glad that things were back to the way they were, even if we were upset at being left out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As we drove, Ciera and I loudly talked all about the big secret we had, waiting for someone\u2019s curiosity to drive them to finally asking us what it was so we could bargain. It didn\u2019t take long, though, to realize nobody cared. We parked outside of a McDonalds and for a second the secret was forgotten as I thought about the steaming, salty fries I so rarely got to have. My mother sliced through my thoughts with a knife.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\u2019re not stopping for food, we\u2019re stopping for the bathroom before we keep driving,\u201d she said. Ciera looked at me, face frowning again. I straightened my back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m gonna find out what the secret is,\u201d I told her as our mothers stepped out of the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou have to promise to tell me what it is,\u201d she said. My mom always told me to never make promises unless I was going to keep them. I knew I\u2019d keep this one, so I nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPromise.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was when I was walking back to the car that I tugged on my mom\u2019s hand. \u201cCan you tell me what\u2019s going on?\u201d She looked at me with the face that said she was getting annoyed. \u201cPlease? It\u2019s not fair everyone else knows.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As I stared at her, I saw her face change. One moment, she was a stone, someone carved her to look the way she did and she had no way of not being that. The next moment, she was soft, and she was sad. She leaned down to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou know how Pop Pop has been sick?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I did, I remembered learning what a stroke was the day the ambulance came to his house. I remember crying because Great Aunt EE was, because I thought he was dying. I remember my mom saying it would be okay, and that it couldn\u2019t be that bad because the lights weren\u2019t flashing on the ambulance. I remember going to the hospital he\u2019d been staying at ever since, always seeing him excited about the jell-o.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My mom let out a breath. \u201cWell, Pop Pop isn\u2019t with us anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Isn\u2019t with us anymore. I\u2019d heard these words before. I\u2019d heard them about Nana and about Papi. I remember hearing it about Papi and only being surprised because I thought he\u2019d go later, since he was the one who wasn\u2019t blind. I remember going to Nana\u2019s house after hearing the words about her, and her house smelling musty and weird, and realizing she\u2019d never give me peaches again, and I\u2019d never get to see what the door in the kitchen led to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Pop Pop would never go back home. He would never sit next to me on the loud, plastic covered couch. He would never go into his basement with the fish that\u2019s on the wall that sings \u201cDon\u2019t Worry Be Happy\u201d when you push the button. I wondered if Great Aunt EE was crying somewhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The next blink that came I was in the car, we were moving, I was staring at my mom\u2019s seat in front of me. I now knew why my mom and aunt were soulless, I was as well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ciera tapped on my shoulder. \u201cDo you know the secret?\u201d I thought about lying. I never liked lying, and somehow, I could see on Ciera\u2019s mouse face that she knew that I knew. So, I nodded. \u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My throat was dry, carved of the same stone my mother\u2019s face had been carved of. \u201cYou don\u2019t wanna know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I saw the lines form on Ciera\u2019s gray, sparkling face, rage in her eyes. \u201cYou promised!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked down at my hands, pressing my teeth together. My heart was jumping up and down on my stomach. I did promise her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOkay,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019ll tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I could feel Ciera\u2019s eyes on me, but my eyes were looking everywhere else. They looked across the seat at Najah, who had been staring out the window so long, I wondered if I\u2019d forget what her face looked like. I looked at my aunt, who was staring ahead, driving. I looked at my mom\u2019s seat, try as I might, I couldn\u2019t see her face. I wondered if someone would stop me. No one did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I decided to say it the way my mother said it to me. \u201cUm, Ciera… Pop Pop isn\u2019t with us anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked over, her face was blank. \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not knowing how better to explain it, I thought of the movies where somebody had gone away. \u201cHe\u2019s in a better place.\u201d The words spoke for me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d Ciera asked. She sounded angry. I couldn\u2019t look at her. I wondered what kind of bubble we were in, what forcefield trapped me with Ciera that meant nobody else in the car could hear us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was running out of ways to say it. \u201cPop Pop…\u201d I said, wracking my brain for a way to say it. \u201cPop Pop went to heaven, Ciera.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d Ciera said, she was shouting. \u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe\u2019s dead!\u201d Najah yelled, finally turning to us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I could hear the pop of a forcefield. My aunt\u2019s hand reached back, slapping Najah\u2019s knee with an abrupt, \u201cNajah!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I could see Najah\u2019s face look angry as she crossed her arms and looked away out the window again. I was sure I\u2019d never see her face again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDead?\u201d Ciera asked. She looked at me, and I looked down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She was crying. I heard her crying. No one else was. I wondered why I wasn\u2019t, I couldn\u2019t remember a time I\u2019d felt worse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I found green vines sprouting around me as I realized Ciera was the last to know, and the last of all of us to live in a world where Pop Pop was still around. When I looked at Ciera again, her face was melted. Her eyelashes were long clumps. Her tears were stained gray and white of her previous skin. The mouse ears that were on her head had fallen down. We were so far from the church and from the stage. She was even smaller now that she was no longer a mouse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I realized there was no one to envy.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Vibrations rose from each slam of my hand on the surface of the drum. I moved with practice, my eyes more in front of me than on the instrument itself. Leaves obstruct the full view of the stage from where I was, but not the audience. I searched the crowd, attempting to find my mother […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[10,11,13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-91","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-auto-fiction","category-original-work","category-stories"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.isharawrites.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/91","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.isharawrites.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.isharawrites.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.isharawrites.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.isharawrites.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=91"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.isharawrites.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/91\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.isharawrites.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=91"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.isharawrites.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=91"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.isharawrites.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=91"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}