Marcie And The Amazons: 14. What Older Sisters Do

"I always thought you liked me."

She scoffed. "It isn't about like or not-like. It's about how things are supposed to be. I'm afraid that if you *think* you're Marcie Donner you're going to start to *act* like Marcie Donner."

Marcie And The Amazons by Kaleigh Way

 

14. What Older Sisters Do

 

When I got home, we had dinner. Mr. Auburn — Dad — was very happy and affectionate... to all of us, but to me in particular. Mom insisted that I stay out of my bedroom until tomorrow.

"I have the window open in there, cold as it is outside. The paint needs to try, and all those fumes have to go out. And keep in mind," she informed me, "the color will look different when it's dry." I bit my tongue and nodded, smiling.

Nina was very quiet for some reason. So was Cassie, but I knew what was happening there. She was nervous about her trip tomorrow. Dad had taken the day off so he could drive her to the airport.

"Are we all going?" I asked.

"Yes," Mom said. "This is a big day for your sister. It's not every day that someone from our sleepy little town goes to Princeton!"

"Good," I said, "I was hoping we would." Somehow I knew that Marcie Auburn wouldn't want to go, so I wanted to make it clear that *I* did. Cassie — miracle of miracles! — gave me a small thank-you smile, and I felt good. It was nice to be part of this family.

Was it nicer than being Marcie Donner?

Well, yes, I was certainly beginning to think so.
 

After dinner, I helped my mother clear the table and load the dishwasher. "Marcie," she said cautiously, "I put some of your things in Nina's room: a nightgown — a new nightgown, now that the, um, old one of yours is finally gone — and some clothes for tomorrow. I thought it would be nice if we all got a little dressed up when we see your sister off."

"It *would* be nice," I said, "thanks, Mom." And I went on pre-rinsing a pot.

She came up behind me and gave me a hug. "I don't know what's happened to you, Marcie Auburn, but I really like it! Today you've just been so... agreeable, and it's such a welcome change!"

Whoa! I was beginning to get the idea that Marcie Auburn was a bit of a jerk. So, without turning, still rinsing the pot, I said, "Mom, I'm sorry I've been so difficult. I'm trying to make some changes."

"I love you just the way you are, dear," she said. "It's just that you're so different from your sisters."

Then she added, "Change is good, though. Change is good."
 


 

Nina continued to keep to herself, doing her own little things. I was curious to know what was going to happen to Princess Marcelline, and had expected to finish reading Nina the story. But it didn't happen.

She remained distant all the way up to bedtime. When she went to bed, I climbed in with her, even though it was early. I was pretty tired.

Nina has a queen-sized bed, and she was all the way over on the other side of it, as far from me as she could get.

"Nina, what's wrong?" I asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said.

"Do you not want me to be here?"

"Yes," she said. "I want you to be here."

"Are you mad at me? Is it because I went out before I finished reading you that story?"

"No, it's not that."

I looked at her serious little face. She kept her eyes steadfastly on the ceiling, so all I could see was her profile, with her cute little nose and tiny chin. She really was an adorable child.

As I looked at the way she lay, with her arms across her chest, it suddenly came to me. "Nina, are you afraid of me?"

She shot a glance at me, then returned her gaze to the ceiling.

"Why, Nina? How you could ever be afraid of me? I've never hurt you, have I?"

"No," she said. "But I'm afraid..." — here she began to cry softly — "... that when Cassie leaves... that you..." — but she couldn't go on.

"Come here," I said, trying to take her in my arms, but she shook her head no, so I backed off. "When Cassie leaves..." I repeated, puzzled. "What's going to happen when Cassie leaves?"

Then, my butt's visceral memory understood. "Nina, are you afraid that when Cassie leaves, that I'm going to start picking on you?"

Tearfully, she nodded.

"Like swatting you on the butt and being bossy?"

Again, she nodded.

"I'm not going to do any of that!" I told her.

"But you always say that that's what older sisters do!" she told me, tears flowing down her cheeks. "Cassie and Mom say so, too!"

"Oh, you little thing!" I told her. "It's not like a rule or anything! Cassie does that because she's Cassie. I'm the middle sister, so I'm different. I will *never* be mean to you the way Cassie is to me."

"You won't?"

"No, of course not! How could I be mean to you?"

"Do you promise?" She turned her big puppy-dog eyes to me, and I had to struggle to keep from smiling. She's just so cute!

"Yes," I said in the most serious voice I could manage. "I promise."

At last, Nina smiled.

"Now do you want to put your head on my shoulder?" I asked her.

She nodded, still smiling, and slid right up next to me, and that's where she stayed all night.
 


 

I woke up before Nina. She was still glued to me. My right arm was asleep, and her little hand gripped my left arm. After carefully prying myself loose, I quietly made my way out of the room. I desperately need to pee!

Cassie's room is right across from Nina's, and her door was open. Cassie stood there, barefoot, but otherwise fully dressed. I had the distinct impression that she was waiting for me.

She didn't say anything. She just watched me, as if she was waiting for something.

I gave her a tentative smile and asked, "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure," she said, and stepped aside to let me enter.

I made my way past her, watching to be sure she didn't swat me (which she didn't), and trying to read her mood (which I couldn't).

When I came out of the little room, she was still waiting for me, watching me, still with that unreadable face.

"What's up?" I asked her.

In an impassive voice, she announced, "I'm going to cancel my trip. I have to."

"Why?" I asked.

"How can I leave when you're like this?" she replied. "I can see you still think you're Marcie Donner."

"No, I don't," I lied. "I'm remembering all kinds of stuff, all the time. I know who I am."

Her eyes roamed over my face, I knew she saw Marcie Donner written everywhere.

"Cassie, please don't cancel your trip. And especially don't do it because of *me*."

"I have to. I don't have a choice."

No choice? what was *that* supposed to mean? "Sure you do. Listen: I've forgotten who I am before—"

"Yeah, but this time is different. This time, for some reason, I'm afraid that you're going to be stuck like this."

"Stuck like what?"

"Stuck thinking you're Marcie Donner."

"But — what difference does it make? Aren't we the same person? Marcie Auburn, Marcie Donner: We're both the same Marcie, right?"

"No," she replied immediately. "You're not. The big difference is that you are not an only child. You had a big sister to watch out for you, and to learn from."

"I guess," I said, with a shrug.

"I know," she said. "I'm older: I had to work everything out for myself. You had it easy."

"Because I had you," I said, finishing her sentence.

"Right," she replied, ignoring my light sarcasm.

I was silent for a moment, then said, "So... let's say — for the sake of argument — that I don't forget that I'm Marcie Donner. What's so bad about that? I always thought you liked me."

She scoffed. "It isn't about like or not-like. It's about how things are supposed to be. I'm afraid that if you *think* you're Marcie Donner you're going to start to *act* like Marcie Donner."

"And would that be a bad thing?"

"Yes!" her eyes flashed fire. "You're a member of this family. You are my little sister, and you can't behave like... you have to behave like..." — she searched for the right words — "you have to behave in a appropriate way."

"What!?" I cried. "What are you saying? When have I ever been 'inappropriate'?" When she didn't reply, I asked, "Are you afraid that I'm going to embarrass you?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "Marcie Donner was always doing crazy things, dangerous things. That was fine when you were just Jerry's girlfriend, but now that you're in this family, it won't fly. I won't have it."

"Oh! I don't believe this!" I fumed. "You won't have it? Look: I'm trying to be a good sister to you. I'm trying to fit in. I'm even trying to be more like you! What in the world do you want? Do you want me to go on being the messy, sporty one?"

She shrugged. "That's up to you. But it has worked so far."

I was angry, but my brain was still churning. "And that stuff about canceling your trip: were you serious? What are you going to stay home to do?"

"Keep an eye on you."

I gaped at her, astonished. "That's ridiculous! Who do you think you are?"

"It's not ridiculous. It's my job."

"What about our parents?" I countered. "I always thought it was *their* job."

"Mom doesn't know about you, and Dad's a man. He doesn't always understand."

I growled in frustration. "I'm not your responsibility!" I told her.

"Yes, you are! I'm the oldest! That *makes* you my responsibility, whether I want you to be or not! I have to see you through to the other side of this thing."

"Okay. Then tell me this: How am I different from Marcie Auburn? Aside from that benefit-of-your-experience stuff?"

"Don't minimize that!" she said with a scowl. "It made you a better person. Marcie Donner grew up wild, practically without supervision. Like I said, you had the benefit of my guidance."

"Oh, brother!"

"You did! Who do you think suggested finding ways around your heroics? I'm the one who told you you could *prevent* things from happening. *I* gave you that idea."

"You did?" I asked. "I don't believe it!"

"Yes, I did!" she nearly shouted. "And did you ever say thank you?"

"I don't know! Did I? Was I supposed to?"

"No! You NEVER said it. Not once! And, yes, you were supposed to! All this time, I've been holding everything together, making everything work. Now, when we're just about to start the new part of our lives, the part that we don't know, who comes back to haunt us, but Marcie Freakin' Donner!"

I didn't know what to say. I was upset, and I felt that Cassie wasn't being straight with me.

While I stood in confused silence, Cassie changed tactics. She sat on the edge of her bed and, gently taking my arm, had me sit next to her. In a soft voice, she said, "Listen to me: you are *not* Marcie Donner. You have to get that into your head. She was a different person."

She was a hero, a voice inside me said.

"She did dangerous, reckless things," Cassie went on.

She helped people, the voice told me.

"And do you know what Marcie Donner wanted, but never had?" Cassie asked.

"No. What?"

"She wanted to keep a low profile."

"Oh!" I said in surprise. It was true: I'd always talked about it, but it never happened.

"Now, Marcie, you finally have a low profile. You have a quiet life, in a good family that loves you."

The little voice in my head didn't have an answer. Cassie was right.

"You like being Marcie Auburn, don't you?" she asked.

I nodded.

"You don't need to have adventures, do you?"

"I guess not."

"No, you don't," she said, with a smile, and smoothed my hair with her hand. "Maybe I can go on my trip after all." She took my hands in hers. "I *can* go, if I know that you're not going to do anything crazy."

I laughed. "I won't," I promised.

"No wall-climbing? No jumping on cars?"

I shook my head smiling. "No and no."

"No shooting people in the foot?"

Shooting people in the foot...

When she said that last phrase, my jaw fell open. Until that moment, she had me. I was convinced. But that single phrase unlocked a series of memories that painfully unwound in my head.

The events of the last few weeks went spinning backward in my brain: I saw myself stumbling from the cabin, dirty, trembling, and cold. I saw the two brothers, lying on the ground... I felt my fingers squeezing the trigger, and the pain in my shoulder as the recoil bounced me against the wall. I saw Ida's frightened face as the van door closed... and felt the impact of Maisie throwing my books to the ground...

It was the last time I ever saw her... and she was running away from me.

"What's wrong?" Cassie asked, with some impatience. "What is that look?"

"Oh my God, Cassie! Oh, my God!" I breathed, in a frozen panic. "What happened to Maisie?"

"Maisie?" Cassie asked. Then she paled as well. "The rich kid?" She knew exactly what I was talking about.

I began to feel frantic. "This time, they must have taken her! Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!" Why hadn't I thought of this earlier? It must have already happened!

"Calm down, Marcie," Cassie said. "It couldn't have happened this time. It would have been on the news."

My mind was racing. I'd been so caught up in figuring out what was happening to me... I'd forgotten what was going on in the life I left.

The kidnappers had taken me by mistake because Maisie and I had done the Mom-swap. This time, Maisie would be with her mother! This time, Maisie would be the one taken, and she wouldn't have Misty — or anyone else — to help her.

"Marcie... Marcie! Listen to me," Cassie said. She was holding me by the shoulders. "Focus. We can look on the web and see. I'm telling you, I don't think it happened."

"Why wouldn't it happen?" I asked.

Cassie looked around the room. After murmuring, "I already packed it, but... whatever...," she proceeded to unpack and set up her laptop. She was silent while the machine slowly booted. I was in agony.

Cassie typed "maisie beale kidnap" into the search engine, and got no results. She also tried "maisie beale" and "flickerbridge" but found nothing. She even tried "margaret beale." Still nothing. We tried a few other searches, but didn't find anything like the events I'd lived through before.

"I can't believe that nobody thought about this," I said.

"Not everything is the same," Cassie told me. "Maybe it won't happen."

"Could it happen later?" I asked. "Later than it happened the first time?"

"I suppose," she admitted.

"Then I have to call her!"

"Call her? And tell her what?" Cassie demanded. "You can't call her! Think about it: what exactly are you going to say? What kind of warning are you going to give? What can you tell her that she'd believe?"

I sat down at the computer and typed "robert strange" but got nothing.

"You know what else?" Cassie continued. "She doesn't know you! She has NO IDEA who you are! You two never met!"

"Damn!" I said. Tears of desperate frustration sprang to my eyes. "I don't know what to do!"

"You can't do anything," Cassie told me.

"I wish I could talk to Susan," I said. "She'd know what to do."

"Susan?"

"She was friends with me and Maisie in—"

Cassie cut me off. "You don't know her, either!"

I tried to think. Was anyone here in Tierson who could help?

Cassie was probably the only person who could help, but she was determined not to.

Then I thought of Aunt Jane... I mean, Jane Donner, Jerry's aunt. She was clever. She'd probably have an idea. Plus, she was crazy enough to listen to me.

"Oh, no!" Cassie said. "I know that look!" She growled in frustration. "And this has to happen right when I'm going away!"

She blew out a big breath and set her teeth. "Listen to me, and listen to me good: YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING. You can't! If you try, people are going to think you're nuts, and you won't be able to help! Do you understand? You will get yourself in all kinds of trouble! This is *exactly* what I was talking about!"

I looked at her with fierce determination. There was no way on earth I could let this go. "I have to do something, and you have to help me," I told her. "You're the only one who can."

"No, I'm not," she countered. "There's Dad, and I'm going to tell him. Somebody's got to keep an eye on you while I'm away. Somebody has to keep you from doing something crazy."
 


 

There wasn't a whole lot of time before we had to leave for the airport, but while Mom helped Nina get ready, Dad heard me out. Cassie sat quietly by. I could see she was nervous. I knew she was nervous about her trip, but I was sure — in spite of what she said — that she was also concerned about Maisie. AND, she was worried that I was going to do something stupid.

"Okay," Dad said when I'd finished. "There is somebody else who might be able to do something—"

"Mr. Donner!" Cassie cried, getting it.

"Yes," Dad said. "Mr. Donner. He's in a much better position to help. I'm going to call him right now." Turning to me, he said, "And you, young lady: don't do anything without me, okay? I mean that: don't do anything at all. We'll take care of this, but we'll take care of it together. Alright?"

"Oh, thank God!" Cassie said, greatly relieved, after Dad left the room.

I frowned at Cassie. She was really bugging me. A lot. She'd been bugging me ever since this problem began, but up to now, my attention was focused on Maisie. Now that Dad was trying to deal with the problem, I could try to deal with Cassie. I looked at her, but she wasn't looking at me.

"You don't have to keep an eye on me," I told her.

She sighed, as if I'd said the stupidest thing in the world. "Yes, I do," she said in a flat tone, as if she was stating a simple, obvious fact. "I *do* have to keep an eye on you."

"I'm not your responsibility," I informed her.

"We went over this before," she reminded me. "This is the natural order of things. I'm the oldest. You're my little sister, and that makes me responsible for you. I have to make sure you don't embarrass me or the family, or even yourself."

I opened my mouth. I felt the steam building up inside, getting ready to power whatever I was going to say. What was I going to say? I didn't know, but I was pretty sure that all I had to do was open my mouth, and the words would take care of themselves. Marcie Auburn must have had this conversation many, many times with her controlling older sister. But whatever it was she would have said, I didn't get to say it.

Mom, who had heard the last few shots in our exchange, swiftly came into the room. She said, "Stop right there, the both of you. Stop right now! Not another word. Not another word! This is a special day, and I will *not* have the two of you fighting!"

"I wasn't fi—" Cassie began, but Mom hushed her with a gesture.

"She thinks that SHE—" I started to explain, but Mom stopped me.

"Not another word, I said! Marcie, why don't you get dressed and go downstairs? You can read to Nina while you wait. Cassie, you stay here. I want a little mother-daughter time—"

"—with your favorite daughter?" Cassie finished, and gave me a provoking look.

"With my oldest daughter," Mom corrected, and shooed me out of the room.
 


 

As I came down the stairs, I saw that someone had lit the Christmas tree — probably Mom. Nina was sitting on the couch. I smiled and sat next to her.

"Is something bad happening?" she asked.

"No," I said. "Believe it or not, Cassie is actually helping me with something."

"Huh."

"We have a nice family, don't we?" I said.

"Yes," she replied, and snuggled up close to me. I put my arm around her.

It was a curious sensation. There are different kinds of hugs and embraces. When Mom hugged me yesterday, it was affection: a mother's love for her daughter. It was affection, yes, but at the same time, there was an element of caution, of reserve, because... well, the whole mother-daughter thing is complicated, and even a simple hug can have all sorts of issues tucked inside it.

Here, with Nina, it was something else entirely. Her closeness to me was simple trust and acceptance. There was no caution or reserve.

You couldn't use words like openness or vulnerability. I mean, she *was* those things, but to describe her that way, to use those words, puts an spin on something that's pristine, uncorrupted, not mixed with anything. Using one of those words to describe a state like that, makes it sound intentional rather than... well, rather than the essence of being a child.

While I sat on that couch, surprised and touched by the depth of Nina's trust and confidence in me, I felt a pain in my soul that reached out through everything — through the roof and the sky, arching like a prayer right through heaven itself, and touching back down in Flickerbridge, to a skinny, friendless girl in mortal peril.

There was nothing I could do to save her. Nothing I could do but wait.

© 2008 by Kaleigh Way

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