Eden's Root (2 page)

She continued. “
It is unclear what ramifications this crisis will have on oil prices and more importantly, on the overall global supply. But one thing is definitely sure. If the food conditions here do not improve soon, we can expect to see more violence. Reporting for BBC, this is Kara McKenna.”

“Wow,” Fi murmured. “Glad I live in America.” A rumbling from outside made her stop and cock her head to listen. “I gotta go,” she yelled as she grabbed her backpack and dumped her bowl and spoon in the sink. Her parents’ goodbyes trailed behind her as she raced out the door and down the stairs after the disappearing bus.

“Wait!” she cried as she sprinted. “Wait!” The bus squeaked to a stop and the doors opened. Fi leapt up the stairs and plopped into the first open seat. “Thanks” she murmured to the bus driver.

The bus had barely started back up when she heard a voice from the back yell out. “Hey Red!”

Fi closed her eyes and sighed. Of course Samantha was going to give her crap today. She kept her eyes on her tablet, pretending to read. Once again, she wished that Sean were still in school with her. She had never known a day of school without him since she was born. Well, not one that she remembered anyway. The Kellys and Skillmans had been next-door neighbors for her entire life and all the kids were like siblings. Now Sean was at that charter school so that he could focus on ‘hacking for real’, as he liked to joke.

Fi remembered many days spent sitting on his couch in front of the TV while he banged away on his tablet. Sometimes he was so distracted that she would shop online with his little sister, Rachel until he was ready to show her the new app he had built or virtual sequence he had developed. At least now he got to do it as part of his school. She was happy for him, but it sucked being separated. Sean always used to bristle anytime someone called her a name or pushed her in the hallways. Though he was just as likely to do those things to her himself when they bickered, he had never let anyone else mess with her.

A voice cut through her thoughts. “Only a kiss-ass like you would actually run to catch the bus to school,” the tall blonde girl in the trendy purple jacket shouted from the back row. A ripple of laughter and high-fives followed. That Samantha, she’s a real genius, Fi thought.

Others chimed in, “Yeah, you geek!”

“You’re supposed to try to
skip
school loser!” More laughter. She ignored them. This year wasn’t so bad. It had actually turned out to be a little better than last year. Seventh grade had really sucked.

The girl next to her nudged her and held out a stick of gum. “Want some?”

Fi nodded and took a piece. The girl, Lisa, was already chewing about four pieces of gum, but she shoved another one in her mouth anyway. Lisa was one of those amazing kids who seemed not to fall into any category. She wasn’t a Geek or Nerd, she wasn’t a Jock, she wasn’t a Prep, and she wasn’t a Goth. Though they weren’t really friends, Fi knew her well enough to know that Lisa was never bullied. She was really into music and seemed to spend most of her time alone with her headphones on, but she was cool. Fi popped the gum into her mouth and chewed, enjoying the rush of mint and sugar. In some ways Fi was a bit of a loner herself. It’s not like she had a gaggle of girlfriends waiting for her when she got off the bus. She smiled wistfully at her current seatmate. She would have much preferred that Sean be there to distract her.

As the bus bounced along she realized that the kids at the back were already focused on something or someone else. Thank goodness they mostly had zero attention span. Of course they bullied her, but she found it all really stupid. They made fun of her hair and coloring, (“Red, Clown, Freckles”), her size (“Midget”), her age (“Baby”), her clothing (“Loser, Does your Mom Dress You? What are you, poor or something?”), and her grades (“Nerd, Geek, Teacher’s Pet, Kiss-ass, Genius, Doctor”). She didn’t really care that much. Sometimes she came back with a smartass comment, but that usually just made things worse. Mostly she just ignored them. It could be worse, she realized. It could be way worse. She could be someone like Ron Ruby or Sandy Pewkins. Really, Fi thought, how can anyone be named Pewk- ins? And the girl was actually poor, one of the poorest kids in school. The things they did to her were truly criminal. Fi felt bad for her, but she knew that if you were smart you just stayed out of the way. She caught up on homework until they got to school, chewing her gum hard. This was another reason she missed Sean.

He always used to tease her about her slacker ways. “Really Fi, can’t you ever do your homework after school like you’re supposed to?”

“Sean, what else can I do on the bus and in class to stay busy?” she’d reply.

The question was honest. They were both smart kids who cruised through school pretty easily. Sean did things on time and followed instructions whereas Fi, well Fi had to explain to multiple teachers along the way why she hadn’t handed in this paper or finished that video. Most of the teachers hated that Fi still got all “A”s on her exams. It showed how little she needed to try in order to pass and that irked them for some reason. To Fi it was just another reason to avoid talking to anyone at school. The bus came to a stop and everyone began to get up.

Fi started to stand when she felt Lisa’s hand on her arm, her expression amused. “Swallow your gum, ok?” Fi nodded and swallowed. It was out of flavor anyway. The kids were filing off and the ones from the back were about to pass by when Lisa whispered, “Wait.”

Samantha smacked the back of Fi’s head on her way out with a passing, “Loser!” added just for good measure. Once they passed, Lisa urged Fi to get off and she followed.

“C’mon” she said and waved. They hurried to catch up so that they were walking just behind the ‘cool’ group. Lisa took the giant wad of gum from her mouth and dropped the entire thing into Samantha’s open purse and then pretended to trip, knocking into her and making certain that the gum was good and squished inside the bag.

“What the hell?” Samantha spun around, her face creased in annoyance. “Look where you’re going Lisa!” Lisa shrugged her shoulders as if to say, ‘Sorry, it was an accident.’ Samantha huffed and walked away. Lisa spun around and sauntered back to where Fi stood in shock. She couldn’t tell whether she was scared or thrilled, but her heart was racing either way.

“Why did you do that?” Fi whispered.

Lisa winked and patted her shoulder and then started to walk away. “Because you’re a good egg, Fi. Plus,” she laughed over her shoulder as she kept walking. “It was fun.”

A second later a bloodcurdling shriek rose from the far end of the hallway. Fi stifled a laugh and hurried to class as her heart leapt with a tiny sense of justice. That was fantastic! No wonder no one messed with Lisa. She wished she were that brave.

----------- Fi -----------

Fi lay in bed on her back trying to use her trick of imagining pretty dresses to help keep her mind occupied. It was soothing when she was stressed, focusing on sashes and belts, buttons and zippers, fabrics and forms….

Her mind flew back to when her little brother Luke had gotten Sick. She’d been too young to understand what ‘brain cancer’ meant, but it hadn’t taken her long to figure out that it was bad news. Once she had spoken with the Chaplain at Luke’s hospital and admitted that she couldn’t sleep. The Chaplain had been kind, with beautiful short white hair and a sweet smile. Her name had been Jane, and she’d listened to all Fi’s troubles and held her hand.

Jane had said, “Fi, tell me something you really like,” and Fi had closed her eyes in thought.

“Pretty dresses,” she decided.

Chaplain Jane laughed a little and nodded. “Perfect. Now Fi, the next time you’re awake in bed and you feel scared and worried and your heart hurts, I want you to close your eyes and start thinking about pretty dresses, ok? Let’s try it now together, right here.”

Fi remembered how kind her voice had been. Jane had Fi close her eyes and start telling her all about a dress she would like to wear. As she began to describe the puffed sleeves and rosy color of the dress in her mind, she realized that it did make her feel better to think of something else…something good.

And so she did it to this day. Whenever she had been unable to sleep, saddened by memories of Luke, or worried about the normal everyday life of a growing girl, she had turned to her pretty dresses. This past week was the first time that she could remember in years that this pastime, this coping skill, was not working for her. No matter how much she tried to turn her focus back to the image of a dress, in her mind it kept creeping back downstairs, to the kitchen table, to the exact time and place when Papa and Mama had given voice to her fears.

At nearly fourteen, Fi was older and less innocent than she’d been when Luke had passed. She had seen that her father was not well, had noticed that he’d grown weaker and sicker over time. In fact, she had been worried about it for months now. When she came home from school and found both her parents waiting for her at the kitchen table, her heart had stopped. Why it mattered so much to say it out loud when nothing would change, she didn’t know. But it did matter.

The kitchen had been warm and bright, lit with the orange glow of September sunset, the western light streaming through the blinds and sparkling off the edges of their cut glass kitchen lamp. The wooden counters gleamed and Fi could smell the comforting aroma of a slow-cooked roast, Maggie’s favorite when it grew cool outside. Her parents were calm, seated at the table with their hands clasped together. Maggie’s thumb lovingly stroked the back of her father’s hand. How could it be, Fi thought angrily, that such bad news could be given in such a beautiful, warm place?

They did not need to wave her over. She’d dropped her backpack and walked slowly to the table, sitting down opposite them both. She remembered how she had tried not to look into their eyes. She wanted so badly not to cry. But the tears had welled up and her throat tightened anyway. Too late, she’d thought, too late.

Maggie had tried to explain. “Fi,” she’d started and then stopped. “Your father and I…”

“What is it?” Fi had interrupted. She couldn’t bear to dance around it. “Just tell me.” Maggie nodded and took a deep breath. Her voice came out tight and flat.

“It’s pancreatic cancer.”

Fi had heard all kinds of description for heartbreak, but she’d never really known it until that exact moment. Her heart had sunk through the floor, falling, burning, burrowing down through the layers of the Earth until it reached the middle and was crushed. Pancreatic cancer? Despite desperately wanting to maintain her control, she had broken completely. There was no way to pretend, there was no hope at all. The three of them had all cried together while Fi had silently raged at the burden, at the unfairness. Her heart ached for them all. Once they had all recovered from tears, which Fi had learned long ago do not last forever, they had talked about how to handle telling Kiara. Mike’s doctors believed that he was on the verge of serious deterioration and he’d opted not to go through treatment after discussing it with Maggie.

“In other words,” Fi had said, frustrated, “We can’t keep this from Kiara.”

Maggie shook her head gently. “Your father will likely need hospital support by year’s end.” Fi had choked at this and Maggie had tried to comfort her, “They’ll be able to make sure he is comfortable.”

Fi had nodded, her stomach in knots. ‘Comfortable’, she thought. What a sick joke. She’d been exactly six years old, the same age that Kiara was now, when Luke passed. She remembered it all vividly. His sickness and listlessness, his treatment, the hospital, his strawberry blonde curls falling out. She would give anything to protect Kiara from that, but she was not being given that option. Now, being older, she realized exactly how hard it had been for Maggie and Mike to expose her to that agony when she was six. All bad choices, she’d thought, bad choices. But what she’d really realized was that there was only one choice.

She’d looked her parents straight in the eye, and with a firm voice declared, “I think we have to just tell her…and I have to be the one to do it.”

Maggie had been surprised. She had actually physically backed away, while Mike had seemed suddenly interested. He’d cocked his head and peered at her, his gaze intense.

“I’ll sit her down and tell her as much as I can without hurting her,” she’d added. “I remember what I needed to know at that age.” Though she’d known that they would protest, she also knew that they would eventually acquiesce. They knew that she was right. In this case, she was the one most qualified for the job.

That afternoon Fi sat Kiara down and told her the simple truths. It was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. Kiara already knew a bit about Luke, so Fi started there. When she was done, she was sure that Kiara understood that their Papa was sick, that he was going to change and get tired, and that someday soon he was going to leave them and not come back. It was all Fi had been able to understand when she was six and it was pretty much all she understood to this day. Watching Kiara’s violet eyes widen and then settle into a sad, frightened frown as they talked had twisted Fi’s heart into knots. It was official. Kiara was no longer a child. Fi had made a personal vow that day to do everything she could to protect Kiara, to keep her happy, to make her smile.

Just then, there was a light knock at her bedroom door. Fi stirred, the memories fading away.

“Hey baby,” she smiled as Kiara poked her head through the door. “Do you want to hang out with me?” Kiara nodded and hopped onto Fi’s bed.

“Hmmmmm, what does Kiara want to do?” Fi teased. “I’m going to guess play hairdresser!” Feeling the need to create an upbeat air, Fi added a fake, light laugh. She understood that playing ‘hairdresser’ was Kiara’s equivalent of ‘pretty dresses’, that she needed the distraction…that they both needed it.

Kiara nodded. “Yes, please!”

“Ok then,” Fi said, stroking Kiara’s long dark waves. “Do you want to be the stylist or the customer?”

“Customer!” Kiara bounced up and down and Fi laughed. She had already reached behind her for her old plastic bin of hair things. She pulled out her brush and started parting Kiara’s hair in the middle and piecing it out. She brushed the hair softly and carefully with a sigh. Brushing out Kiara’s hair always relaxed her, plus it made Kiara so happy.