The Rabbit Sisters

I could hear her shuffling about in the room next to mine. There were sounds of heavy breathing and of heavy clothing being dropped. Her feet lightly stuck to the floorboards as she willed her body to remain a whisper in the night. I imagined what she was doing. Reading, I thought. A door was relentlessly creaking open and closed in an indecisive rhythm. My eyelids fluttered in time although I was fixated on the wall between us. Glancing up, I saw it was nearly four in the morning. Had I had the nerve, I would have risen myself to go into the bathroom, just to sneak a glance into her bedroom. There was only so much I could piece together through sounds, and I enjoyed picturing what my sister might be doing while the rest of the house was sleeping. She was always doing the unusual thing, it seemed. I rolled over and continued listening.

There was a pause in the sounds as she heard me stirring and suddenly I was terrified that I was ruining her fun. She didn’t know that I did this most nights until I fell asleep. There wasn’t anything else to do late at night in a foster home, and I felt that she was living in such a different world than I was. She had cloths hanging down from her ceiling, draping over her bed like a royal chamber, books lining the walls, stacks of journals filled with secrets. I was accustomed to being on the outside of it all but that didn’t stop me from wondering. I hugged my blankets a bit tighter when I heard her feathery tiptoe enter my room and approach my bedside. I would have liked to think she was just checking on me, but I knew she was only confirming that I still wasn’t the wiser. And I wasn’t. As she backed out of my room, I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to summon sleep once again. Before it took me, I heard a faint crash outside like a bird landing in the leaves.

When I opened my eyes once more, it was seven o’clock on Christmas morning. The house was still and waiting for me to rouse everyone for the occasion. I thought about yelling everyone’s names through the house, or maybe jumping on top of them until they gave in. My sister was first. A grin spread across my face as I entered her room. I assumed my attack position, her name poised on my lips.

But the state of her room was pure chaos. I padded over to her bed. A pillow was missing. I followed a blanket trail to her closet where the door was flung open and everything was spilling out. Clothing and books, stuffed animals and music, all the things I wasn’t allowed to touch. I stared down at the mess, frozen. Her room was frigid and an unwelcomed, icy air was drifting in through a window that did not immediately appear to be open. I felt like a real detective, inspecting a crime scene. I pretended to talk into a walkie-talkie.

“Looks like we got a classic case of teenage negligence. Oh yes, a real slob, Nancy. Better call for backup.”

I dragged one fingertip over the windowsill to check for dust and fingerprints when I noticed that the screen had been pushed out of the frame. It dangled down on the outside of the house. I looked at it for another minute and then looked around again. My sister was gone. I thought about screaming the news through the house, but I knew she wouldn’t like that. She was always telling me to be cool, just be cool. So instead, I walked back through the room, reaching for the doorknob when something caught my eye once again. Her stack of journals, the sacred pillar of her entire being, was still intact in the corner of the room. It was surrounded by knocked-over books and forgotten cups lolling on their sides, but the stack itself was pristine. This was my chance. Just a peek, and I could learn so much.

I quickly glanced over both shoulders before tiptoeing over, my shaking hand hovering above the tattered cover of the topmost notebook. “1996” was sprawled across the black leather, followed by a dash to indicate it still had pages to fill. I picked it up, clutched it to my chest, and didn’t know what to do next. Someone upstairs was moving around now, turning on the tap that clanked through the pipes right above our bedrooms. I ran back to my room, as if I didn’t know what day it was or what had happened, slipped the journal underneath my pillow, and tricked myself into falling back asleep.

-----

I was forced awake again by the ringing of the doorbell echoing through the house. I squinted my eyes open and saw that the sun was now directly over the trees outside my window. A smile spread over my face as I remembered it was Christmas morning and surely everyone was awake by now. I wrapped my quilt around myself and flew to my door to yank it open, only to immediately shut it inches from being closed.

Officer Paul was standing in the living room, talking to Janice and Marco, all of them with their arms crossed. Was it time for me leave already? No, I thought, because then Kelly the social worker would be here too. I crouched down to spy on them.

“Good morning and Merry Christmas, folks,” said Officer Paul.

“Good morning. Did you find her?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry to tell you she wasn’t out in Fireman’s Field like the last time.”

“Oh Marco, this is so not good. She has the savings,” Janice loudly whispered as she folded into her husband. “I don’t suppose you found our twenty thousand dollars? Maybe in a bag she dropped in the dark?”

“No ma’am. No bags have been found yet.” Officer Paul paused, considering his boundaries. “Might I add, it’s not such a great idea to keep that kind of cash just lying around, especially in a house full of bad kids.”

I wasn’t a bad kid. I was spying on a grown-up conversation, but I wasn’t a bad kid.

Marco sighed and rubbed his wife’s shoulders. “It wasn’t just lying around. It was in a safe place.”

“Okay,” said Officer Paul, “Well, then I’ll leave you all to your Christmas morning, and you can expect a call if we find anything. Listen, a girl like that, she’ll be back in no time. She just turned fourteen, right? She’ll be wanting her bed soon. Trust me.”

Marco and Janice wordlessly showed him out.

“You know she ransacked the presents, too?” Marco told Janice. “She got the rabbit. I mean, it was for her obviously, but God, that girl. I swear. Do we not give her everything she wants? Where does she think she’s going?” Janice nodded in general agreement, but the rest of their conversation was telepathic after that.

I prepared to feign ignorance of the whole situation, and started searching for my slippers beneath the quilt. But there, halfway under my bed, was a handwritten note on a page ripped from the journal, which laid open just an inch away. I squatted down and slid it into the light of the sun filtering through my uncovered windows.

COME FIND ME.

-----

When I turned to look back at the house through the trees, my eyes locked onto her bedroom window. The screen was pushed out, dangling and letting in the cold. I could imagine her sticking one foot out, and then the other, lowering herself to the ground with some miraculous amount of upper body strength. She had done it twice before, each time returned to our doorstep by a friendly neighbor, but always vowing that one day she would be gone for good. I never doubted her, and only hoped she would take me with her. This was my chance. Out of the garage door, around the house, past her broken window, under the back porch, over the river, and into the wet woods. It was easy to get lost.

It seemed like the sun went down the second I went in. Which way was the house? I calmly willed the branches to part for me, but they mocked me for thinking I was in control. How did my sister do this again and again? I looked up and saw a bluebird perched on a branch right above my head. It looked at me curiously like I didn’t belong. I shooed it and it disappeared into the clouds. I cupped my ears to listen to the sounds around me. Every time a leaf rustled in the distance, I sprung to action, even though my sister always said that no animals would harm you if you were nice to them. I could never fight a bear, anyway. It would grab me by my backpack and swing me around like a Raggedy Ann doll. It would rip up my books and eat my granola bars, and call its cubs over to laugh at me.

And then, I heard her calling my name. The shouts came faintly at first, but then sliced through the brush to reach my ears. I stood up and tried to figure out which direction they were coming from, but the sounds just surrounded me. I tried to call back but my voice came out tiny and raspy, having suffered from the chill. I started running.

I ran toward the first thing that looked familiar: a dilapidated gazebo we had claimed as our castle. I kept running faster and faster until I saw a purple coat emerging through the green. It was my big sister, leaning against one of the vine-covered columns. I jumped up and down and straight into her arms. She squeezed me back and brushed the crushed leaves off my hood and shoulders.

“I found you!” I screamed, trying to catch my breath. “I’ve been wandering around forever.”

She had a backpack on one shoulder, a duffle bag on the other, and a glimmer in her eye. “It’s only eight, dummy. But not a moment too soon. I have a plan.” She had a sly grin on her face. “We can go anywhere we want now. We can be anything. We can go to New York City and see the biggest Christmas tree in the world!”

“How big is it?”

“It’s like a hundred feet tall!”

“Okay,” I said softly. “But maybe we should go home just for tonight and we can leave in the morning?”

She looked at me like she didn’t know me. “That’s not our home. You know how I know?” She took off her backpack and unzipped the front pocket, beckoning me to lean in. “Look at this. I found wads of cash behind that huge portrait of their real son. Haven’t you ever wondered why they haven’t hung any pictures of us? They only care about him. Their flesh and blood. So this is like, a consolation prize.”

“Consolation?”

“Yeah. We deserve this money. It’s our ticket out of here. And check this out,” she continued as she unzipped the duffle bag too. “A rabbit, like we always wanted!” She picked him up carefully and pushed him into my small arms. He was warm and I could feel his rapid heartbeat pounding through me.

“What’s his name?” I asked her through my eyelashes.

“Whatever you want it to be. This is our family, our real family. You, me, and this little dude. If we’re all together, we’re home.” With this, she hoisted her bags back onto her back, put my backpack on her front, and grabbed my hand. We set off, the rabbit securely inside my coat, peeking out so he could watch the adventure too.