Final Paper

The air is thick and weighs heavy on my chest. The sky is pitch black with silvery grey clouds. I can smell rain in the breeze, the same way it smells after a rain shower on a hot day in Texas. We haven’t had rain in almost a month. The moon is full filling up the night sky and I sit starring at it thinking about the day I just had. Everyone in my house is sound asleep, but I can’t sleep. Lately, I find myself awake when everyone is sleeping and this time alone has become a comfort for me. To see me it would seem odd that I am in the middle of my yard in the grass. This is because we have a deck full of furniture and swings but tonight I choose the grass. The grass is green and crisp tickling the underside of my legs. The world around me seems to have a steady hum that plays in the back of my head. I watch a butterfly glide through the air heading straight for our butterfly garden. I glance at the garden; it is not much to look at unless you know the beauty that takes place there. I can see a caterpillar hanging from the arbor preparing to make its chrysalis. I pay no attention to the faded stain on the deck or the unwound hose. I never hear the possum that visits our trash area nightly. Tonight we are going to have a massive storm. I watch the first signs of lightning dance across the sky. Lightning is beautiful. Time stands still as I watch the sky light up. The breeze picks up and I feel the first raindrops falling on my skin. Should I go in or should I stay? I stay. I have always loved the rain. I sit there starring at the sky. The rain picks up and I feel refreshed with every single drop. Oblivious to anything I lie back and close my eyes. I never hear the soft voice until he is right by my side, “Baby, what are you doing? Come inside.” I invite him to sit and share this moment. He does and we lay in silence. Then he reaches over and holds my hand just to have that connection. I could stay here forever. The rain cleanses the stress and reality from the day. As hard as I try I can’t get my sister out of my head. She is sound asleep in bed with my daughter and they both look so innocent and beautiful. Our daughter Isabella is three, beautiful in every possible way and for the most part innocent with a raw truth in everything she does. My sister Lindsey has always had the beauty, but tonight I go to bed wondering how innocent she really is.

“I had such a bad dream about you,” I point my finger accusingly at Lindsey. We are at my mom’s house, a few weeks earlier, sitting on her back porch. I don’t know why they all sit outside to talk but it has been this way my entire life. August heat in Texas is deadly and the thought of moving to Greenland is running through my head again. Their house seems empty these days because there are only three kids left and Lindsey is the oldest. I am the oldest out of seven and for some reason been pegged the smartest. We all have our titles or roles. Lindsey is our mom’s “golden” child. The girl she molded exactly the way she imagined, perfect, beautiful, popular, a dancer, outgoing, not too smart but smart enough. She has become my and my husband’s favorite, although we don’t vocalize it, except to her. She knows she is special. “What was it about? Why are you mad at me?” she looks at me with this I never do anything wrong face. My husband and I are both a victim to her. To know her is the love her unconditionally and you just can’t help forgiving any mistakes she might make. “You know how real my dreams are. You called me because you didn’t know where you were, and I can’t understand you very well. You are supposed to be in school. You tell me you are at school and in some room with friends. I come and find you and you are all lying on the floor obviously on drugs. I take you before anyone notices and bring you home. You tell me that you are addicted to drugs and can’t tell mom.” They are all looking at me like I am crazy. “She wouldn’t do anything like that,” my mom chimes immediately. “Jessica, I can’t believe you would dream that about me! I would never, ever touch any kind of drug. All I have ever done is drink with my friends.” Drinking with friends has always been accepted in my family as long as it was at home or a controlled environment; so growing up we have always had the “cool” parents. “Well don’t ever let me catch you.” I tell her; because I know some of her friends do drugs. I have had to fire several of them that worked for our restaurant, for drug reasons. Everyone seems so shocked, but for me, I know this is a warning.

Over a month goes by and life carries on like usual. Isabella and I are on our deck on a caterpillar hunt and I am trying to get some homework done. “I know they are around baby, keep looking!” We have a dozen or so that are seeking out a good spot to make a chrysalis and she is way excited. I often describe Isabella as a princess in love with a dinosaur; she loves everything with such a passion and is not afraid to do anything. I love her spirit and I know that her Aunt Nanners helped shape that. Aunt Nanners is Lindsey but that is what she calls her. She is coming over today after school to baby-sit and Bella has already planned out everything they are going to do. “Isabella I have to get the phone baby it keeps ringing.” So we put a holt to the hunt and march inside. “Hello!” “Hey, I need you guys to get dressed, your mom is about to call you but she called me first, so I want to warn you…” My heart drops in my chest and I immediately think about my grandma in Wisconsin, she is my best friend and my greatest fear is her death. “Lindsey has been arrested at the high school for drug use and your mom needs us to go with her to get her.” My heart starts to pound harder and I feel faint. My phone beeps and my mom is calling in. “Did Matt call you? Did he tell you? “ She asks me in a shaky voice and I can tell she has already started crying. "Just that we are going to the high school because Lindsey has been arrested.” “Oh, Jessica she doesn’t do drugs, they told your dad that she is expelled and in possession of a drug referred to as “bars.” They told your dad that she failed her drug test and is not allowed back to the high school. “ “Calm down mom, we will be right there to get you and we will work this out.” This is a family crisis that we have never been through before and everyone immediately goes into defense mode. However, I ride in silence because I feel like willed this to happen. I can’t seem to gather my thoughts in my head. We arrived at the high school and she is locked in a room crying. I can hear her through the door and a deep sadness rushes through me. Only two people can go in so I stay out with Isabella. The secretary tells me besides the crying Lindsey seems perfectly fine and I find this so odd because she is on the opposite team here. About 20 minutes pass and they all come out. She latches on to me so tight it puts me in tears. Isabella says, “we rescued you Nanners, now are you coming over?” The full reality of the situation is still a developing haze in the back of our minds. We get in the car and no one wants to say it. “I didn’t do it, they gave me an eye test and said I failed. I was so scared because I thought I was in trouble for being tardy. I know I failed the test because I am so tired. This isn’t my fault; we were all up until 4 in the morning fighting about Alicia. I had to go to school on 2 hours of sleep. They searched my stuff and found nothing. Why is this happening to me?” She talked so fast that none of us could respond. Matt says, “ I called my attorney, we are trying to find one that has experience with the school district, don’t worry, we will get this all straightened out.” I am stunned, speechless and can’t figure out how we went from drug using back to innocent. So I ask, “ Did you take bars?” Everyone in the car seems shocked that I even asked. “They said you admitted it, “ I point out. “What they have is her text messages on her cell phone, her friend talks about taking bars last night and she talks about the fight we all had and they are using the messaging as proof along with the drug test,” mom states. My mom is obviously on the same path as my husband. But, I know my sister and I know the hug meant please forgive me. I am probably the one person that she would admit to, and the one person she would never want to admit to. We have always had an unspoken understanding and awareness of each other. We are all on the porch at my mom’s house and they read the cell phone, I don’t. I don’t need to know. “Lindsey, I just made you a doctor’s appointment for Monday to prove you don’t have drugs in your system, we will fight this battle,” Matt tells her while giving her a big hug. “The story is that two concerned friends went to the office and said that she was messed up. Turns out that one of the ‘concerned friends’ is the new girlfriend of Lindsey’s ex-boyfriend,” mom is explaining to my dad. We decide to leave and give mom and dad time to talk to her and pick her up in a couple hours. I pull my mom aside, “ You need to talk to her, just the two of you and ask her for the truth. Not as a mother, but we need to know before we start this fight. She can’t take a drug test on Monday and fail because she won't tell us the truth." Not even an hour later mom calls us and she says the drug test is a no go, but this I already knew. It is not that I think she is a bad kid or expect it from her; I just know her and can read her well. We decide to go ahead with the test to prove that it was a one-time use and she is a “good girl,” that made a one-time mistake.

Lindsey spends the weekend at our house. None of us really talk about it. The things I won’t say keep me awake at night and I feel suffocated in my house with all of them asleep. It tears me up that this will always haunt her, this mistake will always be there and I want with all my heart to erase it. Sunday night we take her home and plan on picking her up Monday morning for the drug test, while my mom and dad meet with the principle to appeal. About 10 minutes before we are supposed to get her, my mom calls us, “Jess, she can’t take that drug test. She told us, that was not the first time.” This is the big shock for me and the heart-pounding, faint feeling comes back. She tells me in an almost ashamed voice that Lindsey and her friends take bars every Friday night, they call it “High Friday,” and I am speechless. Matt pulls over. “Lindsey doesn’t want you to know,” she says, ”she just wants to serve her time in the alternative school and forget this all happened. “ We sat in silence on the side of the road.

Later that night I found myself outside again while my house slept. I cried, I cried for her, I cried because I needed to. Here comes the rain.