Page 38 of Jealous of the Clouds
“Geez.” She wiped the saliva away with the back of her hand. Fresh air would return her to the land of the living. Even though Josh implied she should simply wait in the car, she could comply no longer. She pulled up the handle to openthe car door. The interior light came on and a dinging noise commenced because the keys were still in the ignition.
Shondell quickly closed the door to silence the dinging and to darken the sudden illumination. She had no concrete idea for why, but she knew Josh would be mad if he saw her getting out.
The air outside wasn’t much of an improvement. It stank of smoke and car exhaust. She peered north and could make out the twinkling towers of the Chicago skyline.
It seemed like another world.
She took a few steps toward the stairs she’d seen Josh go up such a short time ago. Should she follow? She looked up and saw that only one apartment, on the third floor, had its lights on, but the curtains were shut firmly in the window.
Something told her not to dare.
And then Josh came out, closing the door behind himself. He hadn’t spotted Shondell standing just below, maybe the walkway blocked his view. But she knew she didn’t dare dash to the car now; he’d see her.
He saw her anyway as he rushed down the stairs. Their gazes met and he frowned. When he got to her, he said, “I thought I told you to stay in the car.”
“Shut up. You’re not my boss. Besides, I was getting sleepy and had no idea when you’d come back. I needed some air. What were you doing, anyway?”
“Nothing.” He wouldn’t meet her gaze. He simply got in the car. She waited a second and then joined him.
Josh stared ahead for a long time before he lowered his forehead to the steering wheel and began to sob. Shondell had never seen her brother cry. And seeing his anguish aroused little empathy in her.
What it aroused was rage. The anger grew inside, like a trapped wild animal.
Something with fangs. Something protective, yet cruel.
As they drove away, she stared up at the yellow lights of her mother’s run-down place and vowed she’d never love the woman again.
Shondell was like that. Her love could wither and die quicker than a blink.
But not for Josh. No, never for him.
*
Now, Shondell pulled the earbuds out and set them on her nightstand. She slid down in her bed and pulled the sheet and down comforter up over her. She wondered aloud,
“Why didn’t I tell him the truth? An omission is a lie and your lies to Bailey Anderson could have lethal consequences.” She shrugged. It was better, she thought, to put him off Josh’s scent. She’d always been the little sister, but she’d never been the one who needed help, who needed looking out for.
That was Josh.
She recalled when they were little kids and how he’d play Barbies with her. He’d kill her if she ever revealed how much he enjoyed dressing Barbie and Stacy up in various ball gowns and glitzy outfits.
Who’d care? Especially these days, when everything had becomegender neutral. Boys could play with dolls and girls?
Well, Shondell thought, smiling, girls could play with knives.
She recalled how Josh had come into her room one time to find her creating a murderous tableau with her dolls. She’d made the scene hyper-realistic by removing the heads of one of the dolls and cutting off part of her neck. She’d filled Barbie’s body cavity with watered-down ketchup. The ketchup looked realistic as poor Barbie, wondering in to a bad part of town, was stabbed over and over again in her back.
It was a nightmare scene and Shondell recalled being weirdly excited.
When Josh had seen her, hands “bloodied,” he’d simply turned and walked out of the room.
The two of them never mentioned the scene again.
Maybe Josh had begun to think he’d imagined it.
Shondell shrunk further down so the sheets were almost over her head. The guilt she had lived with and rationalized over these many years hurt her deep in her gut. The guilt was so strong she sometimes felt like she didn’t deserve to live.Do I?
But then she remembered how devoted Josh had been to her when they were growing up. How he filled the space of parents that were, present or not, in absentia. He was devoted and gave her everything. Most important among these things—his time, his love, his presence.
