The Drunken Promise

The Drunken Promise 1. Angel Hi, Daddy. It’s me, your Angel. I’m your daughter. I’ll be turning thirteen soon. Mom jokes that you’re so lucky you don’t get to see me turn into a teenage monster. I don’t think I’ll turn into those pizza-face weirdos you see on TV. I’ll be a nice teenager. And all the adults will say what a nice example I make or something. Today was career day at school. They told us a bunch of doctors, lawyers, and firefighters would come in to tell us about their jobs. Then everyone had a family member come in but none of them had any cool jobs like that. Most of them worked in factories. One did something called a freelancer. It made me think of horses and long sticks and doing it for free but calling it work. But they said they worked at home, like their bosses never made them come in and they could do everything online. That sounds pretty cool. At the end of the day, we had to write what we want to do when we grow up. I said doctor because I thought it was funny since nobody’s parents were doctors but I think I might like to actually be one. If I’m a doctor I can teach you how to walk and talk again. And we can play on the playground again. You remember that train game where me, you, and mommy would all go down the slide together? I wanna do that again once I fix you. Mom says I shouldn’t talk about your injuries in my letters to you but my teacher says you should look for the light no matter how dark it gets. She says that means to have hope. So I’m gonna hope I’ll become a doctor someday and be good enough to fix you. My friends say it’s stupid to pick a career just ’cause I wanna play with you again. They said I won’t want to play once I’m old enough to be a doctor. But I don’t care if I’m fifty and you’re one hundred, I wanna play again someday. I guess you’re not that old. I saw something online about a woman who was like 125 or something and you don’t look that old. Just sad. I came to see you today when they were trying to get you to talk. It looked like you just wanted to sleep forever and wished they would leave you alone. I don’t think you know who I am so that’s why I’m telling you all this boring stuff. Mom says you know and can understand what I say but I don’t know. Mom doesn’t know I’m writing this late. I’m hiding under my blankets with my phone for light writing this by hand. I know, old-fashioned, huh? I could just email all this to you instead of writing it down. My hand already hurts. You know we don’t really ever write on paper in school so I think writing letters by hand is kinda fun and old-fashioned. Oh, I said that already. That’s the only thing that sucks is you can’t erase anything. Sorry for all the scribbles, it’s hard to remember how to spell sometimes without autocorrect. I have to keep looking up how to spell words on my phone then scribbling and rewriting. Hopefully you can still read this. Well, once I become a doctor and teach you how to read again. I should go to bed. My hand is cramping. I love you, Daddy. Don’t look so sad, I’ll grow up and fix you real soon, ’kay? Love, Angel 2. Black and Blue My favorite fantasy about Blue is based off a dream I had once. I dreamt she tapped on my window and lured me outside. Then suddenly we were swimming, skinny dipping, in the moonlight. In my dream, nothing really happens. But that following morning, all I could see when I closed my eyes was her glistening wet body streaked silver by the light of the moon. The fantasy is a lot more advanced and X-rated than my innocent dream of forever ago. I like to start slow, build up the tension. While the water in my shower warms up to that perfect temperature, we’re slowly undressing, eyes glued to each other. And when I absentmindedly massage shampoo into my hair, I’m holding my breath at the bottom of the pool, watching her swim circles around me. Her legs open and close right over my head as she soars passed. Just when the fantasy is really starting to get interesting, a loud thud reverberates through the house. I pause to listen, straining under the roar of the shower. Is that yelling I hear? For a moment I think I might get to hear my parents argue for the first time, but then there’s nothing but silence. With a shrug, I dive back into the cool pool of my fantasy. Blue tackles me beneath the water, our slick bodies sliding together as we swim for the surface, wrapped around each other. A rush of cold air stirs the steam of the shower as the door clangs open. Just when I open my mouth to yell at whoever thinks they can come in here and stink up the place in the middle of my shower, the curtain is ripped aside. A schoolgirl scream lodges in my throat and I nearly fold myself up to cover my nakedness. Thick black curls blur before my eyes and then Blue’s there, standing in my shower, clinging to me. “What the—” I grip her shoulders with the intention of pulling her back to make her look at me and explain the intrusion. That’s when I hear it. Loud wailing sobs pour from her in the most sorrowful sound I have ever heard. “Blue? What is it?” I wrap my arms tightly around her, holding her close, forgetting all about the shower that drenches her hair and soaks her clothes. “Talk to me, Blue.” She tries, but her words are so garbled and all I can do is hold her, rocking us slowly side to side. I glance up and find both my parents standing in the bathroom doorway, brows furrowed with worry. Abandoning my shower for much more pressing matters, I grab us towels, toss one around my waist, one around Blue, and lead her out to the living room to sit on the couch. My parents follow close behind, cooing to Blue, begging her to breathe, to talk to us. Dad flees to the kitchen, rummaging in a panic to find something to fill the cup he grabs. I can hear him mumbling to himself. “Coffee? No…shit. Tea? That’ll take too long. Shit. Shit.” “Baby, Blue, talk to me,” I coo to her, oblivious to the pet name that slips out. “It’s not fair! It’s not fair! They can’t do this!” she wails before burying her face in my wet chest. “Sweetheart, breathe. Tell us what’s going on.” Mom kneels at our feet, stroking Blue’s knee, face twisted in anxious anguish. Blue is like family. She’s always been around. Mom and Dad treat her like their daughter. I can see Blue’s cries have both my parents bent out of shape. “California. They’re trying to move to California. It’s not fair!” After we get Blue calm enough to explain, we learn that her dad got a job offer in California for a voice acting gig in some major kids’ movie. She says her dad has a house already, picked out her new school, and even has their house going on the market as soon as next week. “What does your mom say about all this? Surely, she isn’t as gung-ho about leaving!” Dad’s working himself into agitation. He’s always had a weakness for a woman crying. “She says it’ll be like a vacation! She can’t wait for ‘California life,’ whatever the hell that means.” “But…what about us?” My voice is weak. It’s the first I’ve said since all this came out. Life without Blue? California. How far away is California? Blue buries her face in my chest again. My parents exchange glances, some silent words passing between them. They go into the kitchen, heated whispering barely disguised. “What the hell are they thinking? Uprooting her life like that!” Dad’s whisper is more like a growl. “Maybe there’s more to it that Blue hasn’t had the chance to find out yet. Maybe—” “Maybe what? Maybe her dad is starstruck and hasn’t thought how this effects everyone else!” “Shh! Dear, come on, you know it isn’t like that. We’ve all been good friends for so long, surely there’s something we can do.” Mom’s rational calm soothes me. Yeah, maybe there is something we can do. “Like what? Talk them out of it?” “I don’t know. But we have to do something. Did you see the way Black looked at us? I’ve never seen that look in his eyes. They can’t be separated like this. Not after all this time.” “Maybe…maybe I can come too.” I nudge Blue, urging her to look at me.

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