True Places

by Sonja Yoerg

  LISA: Keep it.

  BRYNN: Thanks, bb.

  She stared at her reflection, forgetting for a moment about the clothes. Her face was the real problem. Tears stung her nose. Why did she have to have her father’s long, horsey face? It looked fine on him, sophisticated and strong, but on her those features were a huge liability. Her eyes were all right—blue and not puny—and her mouth was, well, a mouth. But her nose was a full inch longer than it needed to be. It was so unfair. Her mother was beautiful. She had big brown eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips. And her nose wasn’t anything you’d notice, which was exactly the point. Everyone said her mother looked like Julianna Margulies, except Brynn’s friends, who knew Brynn would go ballistic at the mention of it. In Brynn’s opinion, her mother was prettier than Julianna Margulies, because Suzanne had thick, honey-colored hair that contrasted with her brown eyes. And the worst part was her mother didn’t play up her looks at all, just pulled her hair into a ponytail, put on some lip gloss, and wore the clothes Grammy Tinsley bought for her, but never in the right combinations. Her mother was gorgeous without any effort. How unfair was that?

  Of course, her mother always told Brynn she was a pretty girl, pointing out her fine blonde hair or her eyes, but Brynn had known the truth for a long time. As early as third grade, boys had started whinnying whenever she went past. Until then, she had been proud to have a beautiful mother. Slowly it dawned on Brynn that her mother wasn’t something she owned, and her beauty wasn’t shared. Worse, her mother could never understand how Brynn suffered because she was an ugly duckling. Beautiful people were totally blind to how much looks mattered. They automatically got all the attention—not just from boys but from other girls, too. Maybe when her mother was younger it didn’t matter as much, but now when photos were everything, and people spent all their time stalking each other, stalking themselves to see what everyone else saw, having a horsey face wasn’t just a little unfortunate. It was a catastrophe.

  Brynn double-checked her outfit in the mirror, inspecting her butt, which she already knew looked awesome in the jeans.

  Thank God she was tall and had money for the right clothes. Otherwise she’d be invisible, a nobody.

  CHAPTER 15

  Nurse Amy stepped onto the car door ledge to show Iris how to buckle the seat belt, then squeezed the girl’s hand. “See you for your checkup in a few days.”

  “Thanks.”

  Suzanne climbed in through the other door. “It’s not far at all.” She smiled and turned the key that started the motor. “I’ll go slow.”

  Iris faced front and avoided looking out the side windows like Suzanne said. The movement of the car made her stomach queasy. She could run almost as fast as this, so it had to be because she was being moved instead of moving herself. Carried along from one cage to another.

  The buildings were crammed along the road. One after another after another with little or no space in between. All the surfaces were hard except where trees grew out of square holes: maple and beech and other types she didn’t recognize. Suzanne turned the car onto another road and again onto another. The turns sloshed Iris’s insides, and she grabbed the side of the seat. There were more trees now, bigger ones, and the buildings had no signs, just numbers. Small patches of very short grass grew in front of each building.

  “What are these?”

  “Houses. Each one is for a family, like your house in the woods.”

  Iris examined Suzanne’s profile for signs she was joking, although Iris couldn’t remember Suzanne ever making a joke. If she was serious, it meant the families were very large. She wondered if this was part of the overpopulation and damage to the earth her parents had warned her about. Iris understood exponential growth and limited resources. She understood the earth was a beautiful, precious, finite space. She understood she was part of a deeply interdependent natural system that could be thrown out of balance or destroyed entirely by greed and carelessness. Iris hadn’t thought about this in a long time because she had been too occupied with surviving on her own, but her comprehension of the world as a whole and her responsibility to it was a given, like gravity, or the seasons. Now she absorbed what she was seeing in light of what she knew. Curiously, there was little sign of overpopulation, or any population at all. A man was getting into a car. A woman walked beside the road holding the hand of a small boy. When her mother talked about overpopulation, Iris had imagined people shoulder to shoulder with barely enough room to turn around, like a brood of nestlings tucked into a nest.

  “Where is everyone?” In her confusion, Iris hadn’t realized she had spoken her thoughts.

  “What do you mean?”

  Iris didn’t answer.

  After a few more houses, Suzanne turned into a tiny road ending at a white house with two layers of windows and a porch as wide as the main road.

  “Here we are.” Suzanne stopped the car and pushed on the red part of the seat belt latch. Iris did the same. Suzanne smiled and seemed about to say something but decided against it. Iris was glad. Leaving the hospital, the car ride, the huge houses, the strange trees, and the hard gray surfaces overwhelmed her senses and her thoughts. She wanted all of this noise and confusion to stop.

  Suzanne pulled a handle on the car door, leaning back so Iris could see. Iris imitated her and climbed down. Huge pink, lavender, and blue flowers she’d never seen before lined the tiny road, and in front of the porch were bushes with long pale-purple blossoms and a sweet smell. Beside the bushes stood a redbud, its branches heavy with clusters of tiny magenta flowers. She went to it and reached to touch the familiar blossoms, her eyes filling with tears. She turned her face to the sun.

  “Iris?”

  Suzanne waited on the steps to the porch. Iris exhaled in resignation and crossed the short grass meadow to join Suzanne. Bordering the steps were several dandelions; she stooped to pick the leaves.

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Suzanne said.

  A girl appeared at Suzanne’s side, the tallest girl Iris had ever seen, and nearly naked, wearing only tiny black shorts and a top made of two triangles and some string. It was a warm day, especially for April, and Iris could see why the girl wouldn’t want to wear a lot of clothes. But Nurse Amy had explained to her about modesty—rules about what to show when. Iris must have misunderstood. The girl’s body was strong and didn’t have a scar or bruise that Iris could see. She seemed to have been created just this morning.

  “Brynn,” Suzanne said, “This is Iris.”

  “Hi.” Brynn didn’t smile. Her eyes went to the leaves in Iris’s hand, and she made the same face Ash used to make when he ate an unripe blackberry. Brynn turned to Suzanne. “Is she weeding? Because I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to make slaves out of foster kids before they even step foot in the house.”

  Iris didn’t understand. What was “weeding”? Brynn also appeared angry, which confused Iris.

  Suzanne frowned and looked uncomfortable. “Iris, were you collecting those?”

  “Yes. I can find more and we can share.”

  “Seriously?” Brynn said, laughing without happiness. She seemed to have expressions and emotions in strange combinations. It was like trying to decode all the different calls and postures of crows. They were impossible to decipher.

  Suzanne said, “Brynn, did you know they sell dandelion greens at Whole Foods?”

  “Good to know, Mom. Iris, welcome to civilization.” She went inside.

  Suzanne stared at the spot her daughter had occupied a minute ago, a sad look on her face.

  Iris laid the dandelion leaves on the ground. She had so many questions but couldn’t decide what was important to know. She felt tired and wanted to be somewhere quiet by herself.

  Suzanne opened the door. “Let’s have some lunch; then you can rest in your room.”

  Iris nodded and followed Suzanne inside. She couldn’t absorb everything she was seeing and had to remind herself to pay attention to what Suzanne was showing her and saying.
They went through some rooms with chairs and couches and into what Suzanne said was the kitchen.

  Brynn stood in the middle of the room with her arms crossed. “There’s nothing to eat.”

  Suzanne walked past Brynn and pointed to some tall chairs. “Iris, you can sit there, okay? How about a turkey sandwich?”

  “I hate turkey,” Brynn said.

  “You can have whatever you want, Brynn. I’m just going to make something for Iris.”

  “Awesome. But like I said, there’s nothing to eat.”

  Iris climbed into a chair. Suzanne opened a large metal cabinet with lights inside. It was full of food. Iris glanced at Brynn to see if she noticed how much food there was, but she still looked angry. Iris pulled her heels onto the seat, hugged her knees to her chest, and tucked her head between her arms. She almost wished she could go back to the hospital. At least she knew what to expect there.

  Suzanne put the sandwich in front her. Iris’s mouth watered and she took a bite. It was one of the best things she’d ever eaten. Iris ate quickly, concentrating on the delicious sensations in her mouth and trying to block out the sharp words between Suzanne and Brynn.

  When she finished eating, Suzanne took her plate. “I’ll give you a quick tour, just so you know where things are.”

  A door in the kitchen led outside to more chairs and tables on an area covered in flat stone. Beyond that were short grass, flowers, and trees. She could see parts of other houses, each with its own patch of short grass, divided from the others by fences or plants.

  “This is our backyard.”

  “I like this part.”

  “I thought you might.”

  Suzanne walked her through the rest of the house. Iris was again puzzled by the absence of people and began to realize that only Suzanne, Whit (whom she’d met at the hospital), and their two children lived here. And now her.

  The second layer of the house Suzanne called the “upstairs,” one of the first things she’d said that made sense. “We’re almost done.”

  Iris stopped, sniffing the air. “What kind of snake lives here?”

  Suzanne seemed surprised. “You can smell it? It’s a black snake. A pet.” She knocked on one of the many doors. “Reid?”

  A voice from inside. “Coming.”

  The door opened and a boy stood before her, also very tall. He had Suzanne’s eyes. “Hi. I’m Reid. But you probably guessed that.” He smiled and squirmed a little, as if his skin didn’t fit him right. He looked down at his feet. Iris looked at them, too, and wondered what was so interesting about them.

  “I’m Iris.”

  Reid nodded and glanced at her, longer this time. “Well, if you need anything, I’m right here. Except when I’m not.”

  Suzanne said, “School, you mean.”

  “Yeah, school.”

  “Thanks, Reid.”

  Iris’s room was next to Reid’s, opposite a bathroom. Brynn’s room was at the end of the hall, but Suzanne didn’t take her there. Instead she settled Iris in her new room and left, saying she would come back later. Iris gazed around the room in wonder, unable to digest that this entire space was hers. At the hospital, she’d reasoned, she had her own room because she was ill. Suzanne had said the clothes in the closet and drawers were hers to use, but she decided to look through them later. She lay on the bed and stared out the window, thinking she would never be able to sleep in this strange place. The window was open, and the warm breeze reached her. Birds sang, a pair of wrens dueting and a mockingbird running through its repertoire, three times for each call. She closed her eyes and listened to the birds, and before she could worry about anything else, she fell asleep.

  When she awoke, it took Iris a moment to realize she was no longer at the hospital. Suzanne was in the doorway, silhouetted by light behind her.

  “Dinner’s ready, if you’re hungry.”

  “Okay.”

  Iris was hungry, even though she’d had lunch. It was as if eating made her hungrier. She would have liked to eat in her room, but Suzanne didn’t offer that.

  Suzanne’s family was waiting at the table. Brynn was talking to Whit and seemed happier than before. Suzanne talked to Reid, but he didn’t say much. Iris didn’t want to talk. She wanted to eat, so she took her plate to the kitchen, where she had eaten before. She pretended she couldn’t hear the voices in the next room and finished her food without tasting it. As she passed through the room where the others were, she told Suzanne she was tired and went upstairs. All that food and all that commotion exhausted her, and as she lay on the bed staring out the window and worrying about what would happen to her, she fell asleep.

  She awoke sometime later, confused again about where she was. A small light glowed a few inches above the floor near the door. Suzanne’s house, she remembered. It felt like the middle of the night even though it wasn’t fully dark outside. She went to the window overlooking the backyard. Most of the yard was in deep shadow; the light came from the front of the house. Filled with a sudden longing, Iris pulled the blanket from the bed and left the room. She paused in the hallway and listened. No one was moving around. She crept to the stairs and down to the kitchen. She turned the knob of the outside door but it would not open. Her fingers found a latch above the knob, which she twisted slowly until it clicked.

  Outside. Alone. How long had it been? She had lost track of the weeks since Suzanne had found her. Iris breathed in the cool night air, the scent of blooms lingering, and crossed the cold, flat stones onto the short grass and then to the far corner, where the shadows were impenetrable. She wrapped the blanket around her and lay down facing away from the house and the light in the road. A car drove by somewhere in the distance. A dog barked several houses away. A door opened and closed. Finally it was quiet. Not woods quiet, but better.

  Ash? Are you there?

  A feeling, like honey slipping down her throat.

  Yeah, I’m here. Where else would I be, chipmunk?

  Iris put her hand over her mouth to stop from laughing. He called her that because she never could stay still. I thought you got lost?

  Not me. There was a pause. You maybe. His voice trailed into a pool of thick sadness.

  Iris’s throat closed. I’m sorry.

  What are you going to do?

  I wish I knew. She reached her hand out into the darkness to be closer to him. She wished with her whole heart she could have him back, be in the woods with him again, kicking through the stream together, hunting rabbits and squirrels, lying on their backs outside at night watching the stars blinking down at them. Curled in her blanket, arm outstretched, Iris thought she felt a slight thickening of the air between her fingers.

  Don’t go, Ash. Don’t leave me.

  The night fell into a thorough silence. Iris tucked her hand into the blanket, closed her eyes, and pulled the silence inside herself. Around the small yard in which she lay huddled, a wood emerged, hundreds of trees pushing up from the earth in all directions, straining for the stars, stretching their limbs wide: hickory and bull pine, sycamore and black cherry, sassafras and hornbeam, sumac and ash.

  CHAPTER 16

  Brynn groped for her phone on the nightstand and shut off the alarm. No way it was time to get up already. She pulled the covers over her head. Her legs felt like tree trunks after the huge set of kickboarding at last night’s practice. It was all good, though. She was getting stronger and faster. No pain, no glory. And if she didn’t get her ass out of bed, no breakfast.

  She slipped a sweatshirt over her cami, grabbed her phone, made a pit stop in the bathroom, and headed downstairs. Her mom blazed by Brynn on the staircase and nearly wiped out on the way to the kitchen.

  “What’s going on?” Brynn followed her, since that’s where she was going anyway.

  Her mother screeched to a halt by the fridge. Reid was coming in from the yard. Brynn was not awake enough for whatever happy hell this was.

  “You found her!” Her mother rushed toward the door. Brynn saw the Stray be
hind him, wrapped in a blanket like a homeless person, which, now that Brynn thought about it, wasn’t far off the truth.

  Reid grabbed a paper towel off the counter and wiped his bare feet, soaking wet and covered in grass. His hair was a mess and his clothes looked slept in; in other words, same as ever. “Yeah. She was asleep way in the back, practically under the hedge.”

  Brynn took out her phone. Iris came through the door and Brynn snapped a photo. The girl literally had sticks in her hair, and those weird eyes of hers were even bigger than usual, if that was possible.

  Her mother spun toward her. “Brynn!”

  BRYNN to Lisa (via Snapchat): #campingfail

  Brynn said, “Can I have my breakfast now? I’m starving.”

  Her mother was struggling to control herself, like her mom-self was John Hurt in Alien and her true feelings were the thing about to explode out of her chest. “You know where everything is.” She went over to the Stray. “We were really worried about you.”

  “Why?”

  Brynn dumped granola into a bowl. “Yeah, Mom, why?”

  Reid was pouring a giant glass of milk. “Lay off, Brynn.”

  Her mother ignored her and spoke to Iris. “Because we expect you to sleep in your bed, or at least stay in the house.”

  “Why?”

  “Because now that you live here, we’re responsible for you, and part of that is knowing where you are.”

  Brynn thought, Or at least telling herself she knows where her kids are. “Maybe you could leave a note. ‘Sleeping in the neighbor’s compost tonight.’”