I wish I were pretty
I wish I were brave
If I owned this city
Then I’d make it behave
And if I were fearless
Then I’d speak my truth
And the world would hear this
That’s what I wish I’d do
If my hands could open, you’d see
I’d take all these secrets in me
And I’d move and mold them to be
Something I’d set free
I was eleven years old the day my older brother, Zac, checked himself into treatment.
I want to make it very clear, before we get too far into this, that I use the term “brother” pretty loosely. I mean, yes, technically we have the same parents and the same genetic make up. We have the same thick hair and the same impish smile, but we have always lived in completely different worlds. That’s just…how it has always been. It’s hard to be close to a sibling you were born 13 years after. If you really want to hear about my brother in every sense of that word, ask me about Mackie. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. We were talking about Zac.
I was only eleven the day Zac left Tulsa. Not much was said that day. To me, a young girl with long blonde hair streaming behind her, it was a pretty ordinary day. I didn’t know until years later that it was simultaneously the best and worst day of Zac’s life. He would describe it to me, nearly a decade after the day he drove away, and it still isn’t something I can quite understand. I suppose no one ever can, until they go through it. Zac was 23 years old and already a father by the time he left.
I know that none of this really has to do with me. But, I think in some strange, nonsensical way, that was when this all started. Watching my older brother drive away from our family home, to some mysterious location in the distance whose purpose I wouldn’t know until I was much older.
***
“You’re a Godsend, Zoe,” Natalie said to me, as she scooped Willa up from the ground. She called for Viggo, who came running from the living room.
“No problem. You know I love watching the little ones.”
“I know that, and you have no idea how much I appreciate it. Sometimes I wonder what it must be like to have this many kids and not have this many helpers.”
“Well luckily, you’ll never know.”
It was true, I really never minded watching my nieces and nephews. They felt more like younger siblings to me, especially Taylor’s kids. I was only four years older than Ezra. We had grown up together more so that Taylor and I ever did.
“Say bye-bye to Auntie Zoe, Willa!” Natalie said at the door, trying to get her youngest to wave at me. I stuck out my tongue at the little redhead nestled in her mother’s arms, causing her face to crinkle in delight. I swooped in and kissed her on the nose before ruffling Viggo’s hair and closing the door behind Natalie. I turned back towards the kitchen, where my homework loomed on the table, waiting for me patiently. Willa and Viggo (and the rest of Taylor’s clan) were so well behaved that I always had plenty of quiet time to do school work while I babysat them. But, as usual, I was having trouble focusing.
When you’re sixteen years old, you’re supposed to be surrounded by friends, listening to music that vibrates through your body, and driving with the windows down. I was homeschooled, as were the rest of my siblings, and would often spend my evenings watching teen dramas on my laptop, wondering how different they were from real life. I would imagine myself roaming the halls of a public high school and sigh with the melancholic angst that only seems to overcome sixteen year olds. I had friends. It just…wasn’t the same as the groups of girls I saw chattering together on television. I missed something I had never experienced.
When Mackie still lived at home it was different. My brother, who was four years older than me, was my best friend since day one. I loved him more than anything in this universe, and I like to believe he felt the same way about me. I often felt as though it was us against the world. The two of us would often sneak off during huge family holidays, finding quiet corners of the house to play card games or checkers. When we were a bit older, we would gossip about people from our church or even our own family members in hushed tones. Mac would play me songs he wrote and I would read him my silly poetry. We understood each other in a way I never felt with my other siblings. Especially my three oldest brothers.
Because the fact of the matter was, my family was split in two. There was the band, and then…there was the rest of us.
My oldest brother, Isaac, was already seventeen by the time I was born. I felt like we were worlds apart.
I felt my phone vibrate on the table. Right on cue, I thought, as i answered my brother’s phone call.
“Hey brother! I was just thinking about you,” I said with a grin, once again pushing away my American History textbook and the half hearted notes I had scrawled earlier that day.
“Hey sis! Whatchya up to?” Mac asked. I could tell he was in a car. He got so bored while he was driving, and would often call me to pass the time.
“I haven’t finished my school work yet. So I’m doing that.”
“C’mon, Zo-bug, it’s already 4:30!”
“Yes, I’m very aware of that, Mackenzie. I’m just having trouble focusing, that’s all. And I was watching Willa and Viggo earlier. They’re way cuter than any of the presidents or members of congress.”
“True.”
“Where are you driving?”
“Home!”
“Wait…for real?!”
“Yeah, I’ll be there by tonight.”
“Shut up!”
“I most certainly will not, I love hearing myself talk.”
“To what do I owe this honor?”
“Just thought I would spend some of my summer with my favorite sis, is that so wrong?”
“Don’t let Avie or Jess hear you say that.”
“They know where I stand.”
I yelped with laughter. I felt joy rise up underneath my skin like tiny bubbles. I hated when my brother was gone. It would be good to have my best friend back.
***
I wandered down to the living room, bored of all my books and toys. I stopped on the landing when I saw my parents, deep in conversation. Kate was sitting on the couch, Shepherd in her arms. I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, which was unusual for our family. We usually didn’t go more than a few days without seeing one of the older ones or their spouses.
“We think that it’s the best thing for all of us right now,” she said quietly. I couldn’t see her face, but I could guess that she was avoiding my mother’s eyes. I knew first hand that Mom’s gaze could be intense. Dad shifted in his chair and heaved a heavy sigh.
The hushed and concerned tones led me to believe that this was a conversation I shouldn’t be overhearing, which of course made me listen even harder. I was always excluded from family meetings, so I often had to take matters into my own hands. I had perfected the art of picking up the basement phone so silently that those already on the line couldn’t hear me listening. I would turn the phone upside down so that not even my breath could be detected.
A week later, Zac drove away. He and Kate stopped by the house that morning to hand Shepherd over to Mom for the morning, while Kate drove Zac to the airport. I could see worry in both of their faces, but I didn’t press the matter. I stood on the front porch and watched them drive away, puzzled by his tearful goodbyes moments before. Mom kept him in a hug for a solid minute, and kissed his cheeks a couple times, holding his face in her hands. He waved out the passenger side window as they pulled out of the driveway, and I waved back, scowling. I didn’t like not knowing things. My Mom was inside crying and I didn’t know why.
“Mackie?” I asked a few days later, cautiously entering my brother’s room.
“What is it, Z?”
“Where did Zac go? No one will tell me.”
“He went to the loony bin.”
“What?”
“Nah, I’m kidding. He went to treatment.”
“Did Mom and Dad tell you?”
“Yeah, they did. I asked them, and I guess they figured I was old enough to know the truth.”
“Am I not old enough?”
“You probably are, but I doubt they see it that way. Zac went away to get better. He’s sick.”
“He seemed fine to me…”
“Yeah well, he’s not. He has to go get better.”
***
“Did your brother tell you when he’s gonna be here?” Mom said at the dinner table that night, making me jump at the sound of her voice. I had grown up with so many siblings that dinners now were painfully quiet.
“He just said tonight. I’m sure it will be pretty late, it’s a long drive.”
“I hate when he does this.”
“Does what? Visit us?” I asked, already preparing myself to defend him.
“No, of course not, Zoe. I hate when he just wakes up and decides he’s going to drive long distances all in one day, and then does it with no plans or warning. It’s just…I don’t know it just seems irresponsible.”
Mom was right, Mackie did have a very notable habit of spontaneity. And now that he was out of the house, living with a pack of roommates in California, it was even easier to take adventures whenever the spirit moved him. I envied him for that. I didn’t respond to my mother, but continued to push my food around my plate. There was a thick silence in the room that only broke when I heard the jangling of keys and the turning of the front door’s knob. My head shot up and looked out into the front hallway. Sure enough, there was Mac, backpack slung over his shoulder.
“Mac!” I yelled and rushed over to him, without excusing myself from the table. I flung my arms around his neck, and he laughed loud enough to fill the entire house.