“Cyndi, I think it’s broken. Now I’ll have to redo all of my assignments”
“I’m sorry Jimmy. I was playing a game while you were sleeping. The bus hit a bump. Hot tea spilled on your laptop and on my lap, and your computer fell to the floor. It was an accident.”
I’d ad my sister not to touch my laptop. She’s my best friend, but she’s always been clumsy and accident prone. Since Dad’s death two months ago she’s gotten worse. Now though, was not the time to say, “I told you so”. I could tell by the way her bottom lip was quivering that she was close to tears
“Were you badly burned, Cyn?” I asked
“No Jimmy. I know it must’ve sounded like I Was by the way I screamed. Everyone on the bus looked at us. I was more startled than anything. What. Hurts is what I did to your computer.
I’m really sorry about your laptop, Jimmy. I can mess up a sweet dream, can’t I? Do you remember Daddy used to say that about me?”
All of a sudden, as if a dam had broken, my sister’s tears started to flow. What happened next took me by surprise.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Cyndi cried. “Oh why did you have to die?!”
Cyndi and our father had been exceptionally close. She and I were our parent’s only children. When we received the news of Dad’s fatal car crash, Cyndi had to be sedated. She was still taking medication for anxiety and depression.
I placed the broken laptop on my duffel bag and took my twin sister into my arms. She trembled violently as the intense emotions overwhelmed her. Holding back my own tears I tried to console her.
“Bus 209 to San Antonia leaving in five minutes,” the bus driver announced.
“That’s our bus, Cyndi.”
“You go Jimmy. I’m back home.”
“Cyndi,” I tried reasoning with her. “The last thing Daddy told us was for us to finish school. Let’s get on the bus. It’ll be alright.”
She wiped her face on the front of my jacket. I kissed her forehead. Thinking that the crisis had passed I bent down to pick up our stuff. When I looked up Cyndi was running through the door of the bust station. I followed. There she was sitting on the floor beside a trash can. Her arms were wrapped around her body and she was rocking back and forth, crying hysterically.
Running to her, I was pained by the vacant look on her face. It was plain to me that she was having some sort of breakdown.
A crowd gathered quickly around us. Then, over the murmur of the crowd, I heard a deep, growling voice saying, “Make a hole! Make a hole!” I looked up as the mass parted. A mountain of a security guard swaggered toward us in a too tight navy-blue uniform.
He asked my sister what was wrong. When she didn’t answer he ordered me to move away from her.
“This is my sister,” I said.
“I don’t care!” He shouted, “Anyone can see she was trying to get away from you. NOW BACK OFF!!!”
At that moment Cyndi started to bang her head against the garbage can. I reached out to keep her from hurting herself. That’s when I felt the guard’s billy club strangling me. Something in my neck snapped and a sensation like a heavy charge of electricity passed through my body. After that I couldn’t feel anything. I watched as Cyndi stood and started rummaging through the trash can. The last thing I remember before I blacked out was Cyndi eating some French fries she had pulled from the garbage.
No Comments