T R U M A N

I was standing in Katie's bedroom, staring out the window that overlooked our backyard when the memory hit.

I was fifteen, and it was one of those summer days when the sun felt like it was in our backyard instead of the sky. Katie and Eden were laying on the grass on their backs. My mom had made them lemonade in these pink cups with twirly straws, and they were sipping them like grow ups. They had stuck the hose on a tree branch so the water rained down on them.

"Impressive," I said, using my hand to shield my eyes from the sun.

"Eden's idea," Katie said. Her voice sounded far away, hidden behind the summer haze.

I waited for Eden to turn and look at me like she always did. But she continued to stare up at the sky, kicking her toes through the air. 

"Tru," Katie called again, "go get us some more tea."

I stood underneath the hose, shaking my hair through the water. "Get it yourself."

"We're tanning."

"Tanning?" I laughed. "You look like two lobsters." Katie was burnt, but Eden was golden.

"I'm telling Mom!" Katie whined, stomping back inside through the patio door. I stared at it for a second, then took her spot beside Eden.

"Hey," I said. I couldn't see her eyes behind her sunglasses. When she didn't answer, I poked her stomach. "I know you're not sleeping."

"Katie told me not to talk to you," Eden said. She pushed her sunglasses into her hair, then turned those eyes on me.

"She's scared you'll like me better than her."

She rolled her eyes, then put her sunglasses back on. "That's impossible," she said. "Katie's my best friend. See"—she stuck her hand into my face—"she painted my nails orange to match hers. It's her favourite nail polish. She doesn't share it with anyone."

Then the patio door opened, and Katie walked out holding two cups. "Truman!" she yelled, marching over to us, tea spilling down her arms. "Leave Eden alone, weirdo, and get off my towel." Eden was giggling as Katie kicked me over, then laid back down. "Aren't you going back inside now?" she asked, glaring.

I remembered standing there, waiting. I didn't know what for. Maybe for Eden to say something. Maybe for my sister to stop controlling her. Nothing happened, so I walked back inside. And when I turned to close the door, Eden's glasses were off. Her eyes were on me, waiting.

"Sorry," she mouthed before turning back to Katie. I shut the door and, when my back was to them, I smiled to myself.

A car alarm went off outside, and the memory was gone as quickly as it came. Being back in this house brought back too many of them. And they were all of Katie and Eden. I didn't have many memories of my sister without Eden. She was like her shadow.

It only took me two days to set up Katie's new room. I rented a van and brought all her new furniture from the warehouse and drove it out of the city, back to my parent's house. It didn't feel much like a house anymore. It was always empty, with my parents living out of a hotel near Katie's hospital now. But it was nice. The quiet was refreshing after being in the city for so long.

First I brought all Katie's old furniture into the basement. I was careful not to ruin any of it, not the bed or the dresser or her desk. I tucked it all neatly into a corner, then I started from scratch. First I painted the walls blue. I left the ceiling white. Then I painted clouds everywhere, until it felt as if the sky had fallen and landed between these four walls.

I opened all the windows and let the paint air out. Then I sat on the floor and I cried, because Katie's room no longer smelt like her. Or felt like her. There weren't flecks of orange nail polish on the walls. It didn't smell like that cinnamon-twist candle she lit everyday. I understood what my mom meant, about not wanting to touch anything in here. About wanting to preserve it, preserve her. But I told myself there was nothing to preserve. Katie wasn't gone yet.

Yet. I pushed that word away. Repeated it over and over in my head until it was only sounds, no meaning.

I brought in all her new furniture to distract myself. I lingered a little too long on the pieces Eden had painted that day in the warehouse. The day we were covered in blue and she let me hold her hand for the first time. It was a good day, and it scared me to think it may have been our last good day.

I was sweating through my shirt by the time I finished lifting all the furniture up the stairs and setting it in Katie's room. I took a shower, and changed my clothes. I was running my hands through my hair when I walked back into her room, then froze.

Eden was there, sitting on the edge of the bed. A halo hovered over her head, shining under the sunlight. I was positive I was dreaming, and I think my heart may have stopped. I know the world paused on its axis as our eyes met.

My jaw must have been on the floor, a hundred silent questions written across my face, because Eden pointed to the window that I had left slightly open, then to the wings on her back. She had flown in, a angel to my rescue.

"The sky," she said, looking around the room, "it's everywhere." I couldn't tear my eyes off of her. She was glowing in white, her voice sounding like heaven.

Her mouth opened, and I didn't wait to hear what she was going to stay because I was moving towards her, crossing the small space between us that felt like it stretched across a continent until my hands were on her face, her mouth on mine. Then the world continued to spin, but it was shrinking at the same time until it closed around the two of us.

It must have been an eternity later, the sky had shifted from blue to orange, when she pulled her face away from mine. She was smiling, that secretive smile that made me want to see into her mind.

When her mouth opened, I said, "Don't," and then I kissed her again. I ran my hand along her wings, and my heart soared when she sighed my name. She was soft, ethereal. Her hands dipped along the lines of my back, and the skies opened up and blinded us with sunlight, swallowing us entirely.

I think we were falling, drifting along a cloud, Eden's wings wrapped around the both of us. We were soaring above the world, and her lips were the only reminder of home.

Then someone was knocking, and we were falling through the air, back down to Earth. We thudded onto the grass, and Eden's halo had fallen off, tumbled away into the trees. There was dirt all over her whiteness, darkening and dampening. She was shadows now, red and black and twisted.

"Truman," she said. Her voice was rough, and I searched for the warmth of heaven.

Someone was knocking. Once. Then twice.

"Truman," Eden said again. Her hand touched my face, sharp claws scratching down my cheek. "Answer that."

Then I bolted upright in bed, covered in sweat, to the sound of the doorbell going off, then more knocking.

A dream, I thought. I could still feel her wings contorting with the talons sprouting from Eden's fingers. I pushed the image away, whatever it may have meant, if anything, and got out of bed.

It was noon, and I sulked down the stairs, through the hallway and tugged open the front door. It was Eden, looking very much human. No wings. No halo.

"Hey," she said. "I thought you'd be here."

Then she pushed her way inside and sat down on the couch.

"Tru?" she called from the living room.

I was still in a daze, still half asleep. Still remembering her face and the way it looked when the elevator door closed the day she left.

"I know the truth," she whispered then, eyes on the floor. "Santana told me."

"She what?" I asked, scratching the back of my head. Maybe I was still dreaming, and in this world Eden and Santana were friends who spoke regularly.

"Sit beside me," she said. And I did. When her hand wrapped around mine, I closed my eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked after a moment.

"You're here," I said. "You hate me. This can't be real." Then I moved forward to kiss her because this was a dream and she was what I wanted. But Eden's hands were on my chest, pushing me away.

"This isn't a dream, Truman. Are you okay?" Her eyes were wide, searching mine.

My mind was still stuck somewhere between that dream and reality, teetering between worlds. I latched onto Eden, and focused on her face.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

Then she let out a breath and said the last thing I expected, "To apologize."

________

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