Free What My Sister Remembered by Marilyn Sachs Page A

the bed. She shoved away the boxes. “I didn’t really pick out that dumb skirt,” she said. “My mom liked it. It was her idea for both of us to have the same one. And I didn’t pick out the watch, even though I do like Alice in Wonderland.”
    “I like the socks,” I told her, “even though you didn’t pick them out either.”
    We both smiled, carefully. I watched as she put up her arm to smooth her hair. The little charms in her bracelet tinkled. She tossed her head, and her beautiful hair rippled across her face. I could get my hair cut too, I thought. Maybe it would look like Beth’s.
    “I like your haircut,” I said shyly. It was the first nice thing I had said to Beth since she arrived.
    “My haircut?”
    “It’s beautiful.”
    “Well, you could get your hair cut the same way.”
    “Do you really think so?”
    “Sure. You have the same kind of hair I do. It would look just the same.”
    “I don’t know,” I said. “I think your hair is prettier.”
    She tossed it again and smiled a big smile this time. She didn’t look scary anymore. She looked just like other people. I sat down next to her. “Beth,” I said.
    “What?”
    “Beth, how come you came back?”
    “Because my shrink thought I should. He and my mother both thought I should.”
    “What’s a shrink?”
    “A psychiatrist. You know what a psychiatrist is, don’t you?”
    “Of course I do. It’s a doctor who takes care of crazy people.”
    “You don’t have to be crazy to go to a psychiatrist. You just have to have problems you need help solving.”
    “What kind of problems do you have?”
    “Lots of them.”
    “Like what?”
    She hesitated. Then she made a face. “Like you,” she said. “You’re a problem.”
    “Me?”
    “Yes, you. I’m trying to work out my feelings about you. That’s why we invited you out to California two years ago, and that’s why I’m here now. Because my shrink feels it would be a good idea if I saw you again.”
    “Your shrink told you to see me and be mean to me?”
    “I’m not mean to you.”
    “Oh, yes, you are—most of the time you are— and you’re always mean to my mother.”
    “She’s not your mother. She’s your aunt. Don’t you remember when you used to call her Aunt Karen? Don’t you remember? You couldn’t even say her name right, so you called her Aunt Kaka, and I remember—”
    “Stop it!” I put my fingers in my ears but I could still hear her voice.
    “Stop what?”
    “Stop remembering.”
    She moved closer to me. “No, I won’t stop. I’ll keep on. And you know something? I bet you remember lots of things you say you don’t remember, like right after the accident. I remember the two of them sitting there dead. And I remember my head hitting the windshield, and the screaming. I remember the screaming. It was you who was screaming. Nobody else. They were dead, and I was hurt, but you were doing all the screaming, even though you weren’t hurt at all. I remember—"
    I grabbed her, and the two of us rolled around and around on top of my bed, on top of the boxes. I got a hand in her hair, and she landed a sharp slap on my cheek. Neither of us yelled or screamed, and through it all we could hear the grown-ups talking and laughing from the living room.
    It felt wonderful getting my hands on her. We thumped and slapped and bit each other silently and rolled off the bed onto the floor. She was bigger and heavier than I was, but I could move more easily and quicker. I rolled her over and jumped on her back and ...
    And then the bell rang.
     
    Chapter 9
     
    “It’s Jeff,” Beth yelled, wiggling out from underneath me and leaping to her feet. She was panting, her hair was messed, and there was a bite mark on her chin. She went flying out of the room so fast, I didn’t have a chance to point it out to her.
    I took my time. It didn’t matter to me which one of my brothers it was. I didn’t care much for Lisa, and if Ginger turned out to be like some of