The Ship We Built

by Lexie Bean

  She shivered with feelings and curled into my belly button. I’m not sure if that’s the safest place in the world, but I leaned forward over her body to be a blanket for her. I could barely feel Sofie between the thick of our winter coats, but I knew she must have been in there somewhere with her teeth chattering. In that moment, over Sofie’s curls, I noticed a logging truck bounce down the street. I pressed into her back a little extra hoping that she wouldn’t see it drive by. Richard wouldn’t be working his job again until he gets enough money to get out of jail. I’m not sure how that even works when it’s not playing Monopoly.

  But I think Sofie saw the logging truck disappear down Military Road anyways. She sat up all of a sudden and told me, “I think I just want to be alone right now.” Her eyes were big and sure with their own crystals inside. I hugged her cushioned back one more time, and left her there in the icy dead grass.

  I waited on top of the big play structure, my feet dangled off the wooden sides, ready to come back down whenever she needed me. From below the fake bridge, I could hear my old friends talking away. Mary told the group that she wanted a cheetah-print snap bracelet and a game called Dream Phone for her birthday. Mary then said, “You’re all going to be at the party, right?” I know that she wasn’t talking to me, and I almost didn’t even care. My ears felt so much wind from the top of the structure that I could feel them changing colors. To keep a little warmer, I hid my hands in my pockets, deep enough to feel the lint and the little hole I’ve been trying to ignore.

  I watched Sofie keep her face pressed to the snow globe for the whole rest of recess. I hope having something to hold made her feel less alone. Next time maybe I will get her an icicle like in that dream I had the other day. I would even be willing to ice-skate across Lake Superior to find the very best one. Sofie makes me wonder a lot. She also makes me want to give, and go outside even when everything feels frozen and I have to remember my ears and hands again.

  I just really, super hope that somebody finds this balloon letter because I have a big, huge favor to ask you. When you have the chance, could you please send Sofie Gavia a nice note or something good to William Henderson Elementary on Military Road in Houghton, Michigan? You can let her know that she deserves the very best world. Sometimes it is helpful to hear things like that from a stranger because then it almost feels like it’s a message from God. I don’t know, I just want her to feel like it’s possible to be at the right place at the right time again.

  Thanks,

  Rowan

  P.S. Even though I usually stay in the bathroom during church, please know that I have been really, really good lately. I’ve been doing my chores every week, and I have no incomplete homework at school. I still think nice things about my old friends even when they probably don’t think nice things about me. I would just really like it if you did me this favor, and sent a letter or something nice to Sofie. She gave me a rock on my front porch today even if probably she didn’t mean to say “I’m okay.”

  Thanks again,

  Rowan

  Thursday, December 4, 1997

  Dear Whoever Is Listening,

  I put my hamper in front of my bedroom door. Don’t ask why. I’m doing my best to remember what better times in life were like. By the way, does your dad live with you? Are you glad about it? I don’t know. I know that I should just be grateful for having a dad after what happened to Sofie, but I don’t know. Even though winter just started, it sure is hard to remember what it’s like on the other side of it.

  Lately, it has been helping me to make maps to my favorite places. That way, I will never forget how to get there once everything is covered with snow. Sometimes when my favorite places seem super-duper far away, I pretend it is inside of my body. That way, I can go whenever I want. Do you think something is pretending if it feels real? I’m not sure. When Dad left my room the other day, I just closed my eyes and retraced my steps to my favorite river. It felt like spring again.

  Today Sofie and I walked way, way out of the way to get home after school just so we could walk along that same river. We actually decided to leave school together when the bell rang instead of hiding in the stalls for everyone else to leave first like usual. I didn’t want to waste time worrying about my old friends’ thoughts about us. Even though Sofie told me the other day that she didn’t want to talk about her dad anymore, I could tell that she was still having a hard time about it. She kept her eyes down and felt so far away even though we were right next to each other. I tucked my hair into my hat, and we both kept quiet for the first fifteen minutes of our walk to Pilgrim River. There were no clouds in the sky, but it kept on snowing. The forest felt endless with our big crunchy steps.

  Then, out of the blue, the two of us saw mysterious dog prints in the snow and I said, “Let’s follow them.” Sofie’s face unthawed. We named the dog Balto even though we never actually got to meet him. It was nearly impossible to see the paw prints after a few minutes of walking because everything was the brightest white. The tree branches hung low and heavy with ice along the blanketed river. It felt like everything was getting erased. We eventually got to a point where the snowmobile trail ended and there were no more dog tracks to be found. Our legs started to get lost in the deep snow like quicksand, and it was scary because my shoes weren’t made for this season.

  Luckily, there were some other human footprints left for us ahead. They were big, probably from grown-ups, and so Sofie and I came up with a new game without hardly saying anything at all. We had to fit all four of our feet into one shoe-print. It only lasted one round because we both knew right away that we wouldn’t ever fit into what was left behind. We had to step outside of those footprints if we really wanted to walk side by side, and so we did. The snow went all the way to our knees.

  I bit my lip trying to be strong about the cold like everybody else who lives here. Some of the ice got inside of my shoes, but I promised myself not to say anything about it. I didn’t want to bring Sofie down after we survived all that. Either way, that snow melted in no time and filled the spaces in between my toes. It felt miserable, but it was a good reminder that the river water doesn’t actually disappear. If anything, we were surrounded by more water than ever. My favorite place wasn’t gone, it only changed shape. I let the cold spread and stayed brave by humming some winter concert music and then that Sound of Music song about raindrops on kittens and roses on mittens. I actually surprised myself since I haven’t used my voice like that since Halloween.

  After who knows how long, we stopped in our tracks, so Sofie could put on those mittens I gave her. She wiggled her fingers in until they fit her perfectly. The snow started falling again, and a few snowflakes landed on her eyelashes, like they wanted to listen to what came next. She told me in an almost-whisper, “I have a brand-new favorite place. It’s the space between the Christmas tree and the living room wall. Me and Papa picked the tree out together.”

  I know she said she didn’t want to talk about her dad, but it was her first real smile of the day. It didn’t last long, though. Sofie’s eyes started to water the more she talked about their real pine tree. Richard’s logging job meant they know how to pick the best one in the whole entire forest. Now Mrs. Gavia brings Sofie’s dinner plate behind the tree, just she can stay close to the place she loves. I think that’s nice of her mom.

  I looked at Sofie again, and she had at least ten more snowflakes on her eyelashes. She looked up and said a little louder than before, “Things will go back to normal soon.” I hope she is right.

  In the meantime, I really want to learn everything I can about her new favorite place behind her tree. My Christmas tree at home is made of plastic and has bulbs that all came perfectly matching from the same box. It feels too perfect and probably hasn’t seen any snow. I don’t think it grew out of any place at all. I wonder about all the snowflakes that fell onto Sofie’s Christmas tree when it still lived in the forest and how lon
g they stayed on once the Gavias took it home. I wonder if the snowflakes missed each other when it was time to go. Probably not too much because one day they will melt into the same river and evaporate into the same sky. I don’t know.

  Sofie then said to me, “It’s getting late. I need to get home to babysit Viivi.” I really wanted more time walking between the pine trees together, but instead I waved goodbye to Sofie. She sighed and walked away. I listened to her crunch get smaller and smaller until the sound was gone.

  I’ve been thinking about asking Sofie if she wants to come over to my house. Maybe we could use my basement refrigerator box to go sailing without a map, travel to the moon, or go anywhere she wants to, a place where nothing bad could ever happen. I was going to ask her that at the end of our walk, but I didn’t know how. Fifth graders aren’t supposed to play like that.

  I looked back behind me one more time half believing I would see her standing there, but she was gone. Only our footsteps were still there, side by side.

  I know we haven’t met before, you and me, but can I be honest with you about something? Sometimes I’m afraid the places I want to go to aren’t really worth thinking about. Sometimes it’s just not as easy as making a map. I want to share more, but I first want someone to promise me that they will love me no matter what. At church they say that’s what God is for, but I don’t know.

  I have to go now. I hope you find your favorite place.

  Sincerely,

  Rowan

  Saturday, December 6, 1997

  Dear (put your name here),

  We did my favorite tradition of putting up Christmas lights in the front yard today. I think my nose hair froze up, but the lights came out really cool. Dad bought a new beer brand to celebrate. He actually said, “I want to make sure the new kind tastes good,” and walked off to take a hydration break within the first few minutes of decorating. I didn’t mind that he left because he usually gets mad if the lights don’t go exactly how he wants. Anyways, Mom and I worked alone and had a good laugh while getting the lights just right on the bushes on the first try.

  After that, my parents left for some kind of church thing where the marines give toys to somebody else’s kids. Christmas is coming up, and so everyone is trying to be good about talking to God more. Dad would like an orange drill or a good working chain saw, Mom would like another magazine subscription. I haven’t actually asked for this, but I would like a new haircut for Christmas. I would also really like a hot-air balloon, so I could find you instead of having to write these letters with regular balloons. A computer could be cool too, but they cost so much money and probably wouldn’t even have Oregon Trail or that aliens geometry game like the computers at school. Really, though, I just want a haircut.

  I do wonder whether or not Mary got the Dream Phone game like she really wanted. I wouldn’t know. Her big party was last night and my invitation officially never came. After having fun at McDonald’s, they probably had Bagel Bites and watched a PG-13 movie even though she’s turning eleven. It’s okay I wasn’t there, I guess. I’m just thankful that they didn’t try to prank-call me or anything like that. Have you ever seen a PG-13 movie before? It’s okay if you haven’t. Me neither, except for the last slumber party, where we watched Austin Powers and then turned off the lights to listen to that scary story about the girl with the ribbon around her neck.

  Anyways, whatever. It’s okay. Tonight was good. As soon as I heard my parents leave for the church thing, I hopped out of my bed. I ate my last piece of Halloween candy and looked for my dog out the window. Jax wasn’t there. Instead of staying alone all night long, I decided to invite Sofie over using our brand-new secret signal. Please be cool and don’t tell anyone else what it is because it really is a secret.

  All I had to do is walk ten minutes to Sofie’s house, and put a special red rock on her front porch. I just had to put it there by eight o’clock, so she didn’t accidentally fall asleep first. I found the rock in front of this house where there is no garden, but they have a flag for every holiday. Sometimes I find ones just like it in big piles around Houghton, and if you dig deep enough you can even find some copper. Tonight’s rock looked like it came from outer space and had little specks of silver trapped inside. It shined when I placed it under Sofie’s porch light.

  Nothing happened right away, so secretly I peeked between their plastic blinds. The TV was playing some show about winning an island if people know how to spell the right words. I would be so bad at that game. No one was there watching it, but I knew deep down that Sofie would see our secret signal after tucking in her baby sister. I skipped back home through the dusty snow, and couldn’t help but look at the neon-blue sky. The moon was out so big and bright, like it was trying to climb over gravity to kiss me good-night.

  And guess what. Sofie got to my house only a few minutes after me. She knocked three times for the secret password, and smiled with six teeth showing when I opened the front door. She walked in fast, handed me her Selena tape, and the two of us got straight to work on preparing our refrigerator box. You might think it’s all baby-talk make-believe, but it was actually a lot of fun thinking about sailing our box boat up to the moon.

  Sofie giggled and said, “Okay, we are going to need a ladder or hot-air balloon, and so many picnic baskets to keep full for the long journey. We need to be prepared for anything.” She then talked about us needing special straws to breathe out of if we’re traveling to outer space. I almost couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. I looked behind my shoulder, not even sure how all of that stuff was going to fit into the sunflower suitcase I already started packing that morning. I unzipped my bag again and decided not to bring my lava lamp to make room for what we would really need. I wrapped the cord around the lamp’s body, and asked Sofie, “Do you want any Swiss Miss? We have extra marshmallows.”

  She nodded her head, but then she looked sad all of a sudden. Sofie asked, “Rowan, there aren’t any jails on the moon, right?” Just so you know, there aren’t. There is also no gravity to pull people down.

  I promised her with all of my heart, “In space, there are only sky and rocks, and maybe even an ice rink inside the craters. There are only things that we love.”

  She nodded again, this time with her dimples showing. I felt kind of bad about reminding Sofie of her dad by mentioning marshmallows, but we went into the kitchen anyways. Together we took turns stirring the Swiss Miss into the milk with a little plastic spoon. I put them in the microwave, pressed Start, and asked , “Do you still want to go to the moon?” She jumped up with a “Yes” as if we were only inches away from it.

  The microwave buzzed and we finished packing in the living room. I found my Pokémon cards binder and ice skates. Sofie pulled a ladder in from the garage. We added them to the pile that seemed to grow and grow around our refrigerator box. Sofie looked so happy when she wiped her hands clean and said, “I think the microwave is beeping. I’ll be right back with our hot chocolates.”

  Do you ever get really sad, and it just comes out of nowhere? I hate to admit this, but that’s what happened to me as soon as Sofie went back to the kitchen. I looked at our pile of supplies and only saw a mess. I wanted so badly to make our adventure feel real again, but I wrapped my arms around my legs and held my eyes like they needed handholds. The moon seemed farther and farther away the more that we tried to get there. Do you know what I mean? I almost wanted to give up completely. I imagined all of the kids at school knowing what we were up to, and saying that it’s stupid. I wouldn’t know how to tell them that they’re wrong.

  I didn’t even know that anybody was listening when I blabbed, “We’re never going to be able to make a map big enough to get to the moon. We’re gonna be stuck in this place forever and ever and ever and ever.” But when I peeked between my fingers, I was surprised to see Sofie standing there smiling with twelve teeth. Each hot chocolate sitting on the windowsill was filled to the top w
ith marshmallows. Right away, Sofie took my Michigan-shaped hands and led me to the living room window.

  But it was too late and too dark to see hardly anything outside, even the moon was covered up. The glass only bounced back our own reflections, and Sofie’s curls looked like a wonderful cloud. She pointed toward the glass and said, “If you want to get to the moon, we can just follow the constellation of freckles on your arm.” I looked in my window reflection trying to see what she could see.

  I didn’t believe it at first, but Sofie was right. My left arm alone has at least fifteen little brown freckles. I had never thought about my body having its very own starry map. I traced them one by one with my finger until the moon reappeared. It was so good to see it out the window again, but I couldn’t help suddenly feeling full of more bad questions about the future, about the other kids at school. About Sofie’s dad never coming back, about my dad never going away. I said to Sofie, “Do you think people will be nice to us on the moon?”

  Sofie had a lightbulb moment all of a sudden. She ran into my basement and I listened to her feet thud all the way down the stairs. Sofie came back just two minutes later.

  She came back carrying a strand of Christmas lights, the same kind we used to decorate our house. Without a word, she wrapped the strand around my shoulders, through my ponytail, all the way past my line of freckles, and back down to the ground. I lit up in every direction, even before she plugged the white lights in. She finally responded to my question. She said, “You are a star.” That made me smile with a lot of teeth. It almost felt like there were more teeth in my smile than there were stars in the sky.

  I said, “You are too.”