Note: While not explicitly mentioned, Ashly, the narrator of this story, is an adoptee and while I originally wrote this story to be about gender identity, it can definitely easily be interpreted as being about adoptee identity as well. There is a rabbit and a wolf at the dinner table. The rabbit taps its foot against its metal seat, letting the th-thump, th-thump, th-thump of its rhythm resound through the air. A meal of berries lays before the creature, but still, it does not eat as its attention is on the guest before it.
“You first?” The growl strums the atmosphere and the wolf’s yellow eyes glimmer with a yearning. For what? That is unclear and the two continue, the rabbit t-tap-tap-tapping and the wolf peering at the rabbit. Then finally the light flickers above the two meal partners and in the second the darkness ascends, something changes. Before long, the wolf and the rabbit are illuminated again. The berries still before the latter, yet something is different. The wolf twitches its tail, swinging it back and forth, back and forth. And the rabbit looks up at the wolf, eyes shimmering. Not with fear as one might assume, but with a yearning. “Why should I be the one to start?” There is no quiver in the rabbit’s voice. No, it’s steady and confident. And I, both observer and object of this scene, feel this deep in my bones. A soundless understanding that both rabbit and wolf is I, Ashly, two dual identities in one. So I laugh, letting their meaningless questions reverberate around me. Rabbit? Wolf? I am me.
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The fair blinded Youngvia. Street vendors crowded the black pavement. Advertisers scurried around the crowds waving little pamphlets and business cards. It was all so exhilarating for the quiet town of Buchtton.
Youngvia clutched the straps of her cello case and continued on her way to the town hall. A few people glanced at her as she walked, but most were content to focus on the excitement of Community Day. “Hey, Youngvia!” Youngvia twirled around to see her friend Aleah racing toward her with her own cello case thumping against her back. Aleah’s dark wavy hair bounced around her shoulders and her brown eyes were bright. “Oh, my goodness,” Aleah said as she stopped beside Youngvia. “I thought I would never find you. Buchtton is such a small town, but it really gets crazy on Community Day.” Youngvia nodded in agreement. “That’s for sure. Are you ready to play?” Aleah laughed. “You bet I’m ready. My mothers and sisters are all sick of me playing the songs at home. I’m sure your family feels the same.” Youngvia definitely had been practicing a lot, but her little sister and parents were used to it now, so they rarely ever complained. She and Aleah weaved through the crowds to reach the brick building at the center of the streets. Around her, Youngvia could smell the sweetness of cotton candy and hear the laughter of kids and parents. As pop music boomed from speakers above her, she could feel the ground vibrating below her feet. The scene both energized her, but also made her nervous. What if she couldn’t do this Community Day service? It was the first time she had performed at an event like this. Most of the time, she played in school talent shows and musicals where the only people she was being judged against were other high school students. Here, the stakes seemed so much higher. The two girls finally made it to the steps of Town Hall. At the top of the steps, a black platform had been wheeled out in front of the great brown doors and tech people were racing back and forth across the stage to check the mics and connect the mess of wires that were required for the performance. “I’m so glad that I don’t have to handle the tech stuff,” Aleah said beside Youngvia. She had to shout to be heard over the speakers. “I know I would mess everything up.” Mr. Agu, the high school music and drama teacher ran over to Aleah and Youngvia from the top of the stairs. “There you two girls are.” He grinned at them. “I know how hard you have been working in class and it must be nice for it to finally be paying off.” Aleah beamed at the teacher. “Thank you for always supporting us.” “Well, go be awesome.” He nodded toward the stage. Youngvia’s heart pounding, she started up the steps. The cello on her back weighed down on her and with each step her feet made, it felt like she was walking through mud. The noises of the background faded to the edges of her senses and all that could swarm in was her anxiety. Stop it, Youngvia, she scolded herself. She had never been this nervous about performing before. She had always loved sharing her gifts with the world and being able to bring others joy through her music. Why was today different? What if everybody hates me after this? What if they think I’m terrible and stuck-up and they abandon me? There it was. That word. The word that Youngvia tried to push out of her mind all of the time. That word that had caused her so much pain since she was an infant. She glanced at Aleah. She couldn’t tell what her friend was feeling, but she wondered if Aleah also had the fear of failure leading to abandonment like her. They both were adopted, meaning that they had to have been abandoned first. It was part of their stories. Yet, Aleah had only been abandoned once and she had been adopted into a loving family with four mothers and five sisters. Youngvia had been adopted as a baby and then abandoned again when she was ten, only to be taken in by her first adoptive mother’s cousin. What was Youngvia thinking hiding behind her music? The pain of the past would never leave her. She crossed the last step and trudged toward the black stage. She smiled back weakly at the tech people who waved and grinned at her and her eyes drifted over the cobbled ground. Aleah went up the stage steps first and strode toward one of two wooden chairs on the platform. Youngvia lumbered after her friend. Her mind erratic, she unzipped her instrument and went through the movements of tuning. Her arms shivered and sweat dripped down her forehead. Even though it was a warm day, she still felt this weird sensation of feeling both warm and cold. Her stomach churned inside of her and her legs wobbled as she positioned the cello between them. The pop music quieted and Aleah flashed Youngvia a smile. We got this, she mouthed. All Youngvia could do was nod back. And then they played. Once she felt the cello vibrate between her legs. Once she heard the silence settle down among the people below. Once their footsteps quieted, their chattering paused. Once she knew she was safe up here, Youngvia could breathe the music. “See? That wasn’t so bad,” Aleah said to her fifteen minutes later after they had finished playing and were heading back into the crowds. The pop music had returned to the speakers and chattering fluttered around them. Youngvia grinned. “Yeah, it was nice.” “Do you want to talk about what had made you so nervous? Usually, you aren’t this uptight about playing in front of all these people.” Youngvia watched as a family of four passed by, their laughter a light breeze blowing by her ear. “I mean, this is our first time playing at Community Day. We usually play in more formal places where the people there are our families or people who know music. It’s weird playing here where us playing isn’t the main act.” “We’re just part of the crowd.” Aleah nodded. “Right, but it was nice…being part of the crowd. I was so worried everyone would just leave if they didn’t like what they were hearing, but no one did. They just listened. It made me feel like I belonged and that I didn’t have to worry about being abandoned.” Aleah’s brown hand grasped onto Youngvia’s pale one. “You never have to worry about being abandoned again, if that’s what you’re worried about. Buchtton is a small community, but we look out for one another, okay?” Youngvia smiled. “Okay.” The house was always silent. Of course, houses normally didn’t make noises when you walked by them, but the colonial on the corner of Amelia Văn’s street was soundless. Amelia doubted anyone even lived in it. Still every night, from her window, Amelia could see the flickering of candles behind the building’s white curtains.
Today in particular was a big occasion as it was Amelia’s fifteenth birthday. Not only that, but her elder sister Maisie was finally returning home from her stay in Suriname and their three mothers were putting on a big party just for the five of them. “Soccer practice alright?” Her mother Tania Patil asked as Amelia entered their home. Tania was sitting on the couch with her tablet in her hands. “Yeah, it was good. Nothing much happened.” Amelia’s thoughts were still on the house. She slipped off her sneakers and placed them inside the cubby by the door. The mirror above the shelf flickered a greeting as Amelia’s tan face came into its view. The date, Saturday, June 1st, 2115, glimmered green in the mirror’s bottom left corner. “Nothing much can be quite alright,” Tania said. “Eleanor went to the airport to see your sister and Stella had some errands to do.” Eleanor Quintanilla and Stella Văn were Maisie and Amelia’s other two mothers. “That’s good to know.” Her voice was still light and her body trembled ever so slightly. Shaking her head, Amelia strode over to join her mother on the sofa. The cushions bent under her weight and embraced her sore legs and feet. Amelia could still feel the effects of all the stretches they had been doing during practice. At least there weren’t any games today. The only reason Amelia even did soccer was because her mothers wanted her to spend more time with her peers instead of just staying home reading books and doing homework. Tania peered at Amelia and placed her tablet on the glass table before them. “Something not right? You look off.” Amelia sighed and leaned against the side of the couch. “It’s that house again. I just can’t stop thinking about it.” Tania pursed her lips. “The colonial? You need to stop worrying so much about that house, Amelia.” “Easy for you to say that. I have to walk past it every time I go to school and practice. You work at home all day.” “Even more of a reason for me to be worried about the house,” Tania countered. Her gaze flickered as if she were uncomfortable. “I have never seen anything strange go on inside of that building. Now, it’s your birthday, right? Go get some nice clothes on so we can celebrate when everyone returns.” Tania’s words slipped from English into Marathi as she spoke and Amelia gave another sigh. Would anyone ever listen? ~~~ Three hours later, the doorbell rang. Amelia, who had been sitting in her room completing her homework, glanced up at her window, which was currently exhibiting an image of a forest. The forest imagery and sounds disappeared as she commanded the screen to display the front door. Her sister Maisie and her mother Eleanor stood on the stoop. A grin stretched across Amelia’s face and she leaped to her feet and dashed out of her bedroom and down the stairs. By the time she arrived on the first floor, Tania had already opened the door to let Eleanor and Maisie inside. “Maisie!” Amelia exclaimed. She rushed forward and nestled her sister’s waist. Her sister, who was twenty-six now, had always been so much taller than her and she was glad to see that even after a year of not seeing Maisie in person, that was still the case. “You’re crushing me,” Maisie said in Panamanian Spanish. “But I’m glad to see you, too.” Amelia, still beaming, let go of her sister. All of her uneasiness from earlier had dissipated. “How was the bus ride home?” “Fortunately, not too busy,” Eleanor answered as she slipped off her shoes. The afternoon sunlight from the window reddened her wavy brown hair. “I will forever be thankful that the public transportation has become quite good in our little town of Buchtton, Massachusetts. Stella took that old blue buggy for her errands. Said she really needed it today.” The look shared between Tania and Eleanor made it clear that they both knew why Stella needed the car. Amelia frowned. Out of all of her mothers, Stella was the one who preferred using their own self-driving car over public transportation, but it would have been much easier and more convenient for Eleanor to have taken the vehicle to meet up with Maisie at the airport in Boston than for Stella to use the car just to do some local errands. “Do you know what Stella wanted to do?” Eleanor’s body stiffened, but then she shrugged. “No, but it's your birthday and Maisie is home, so I feel happy.” Still wrinkling her brows, Amelia’s eyes flitted in the direction of the colonial down the street. Its white surface appeared blood-stained in the sun and the flowery bushes skirting its edges seemed to jeer at her. Amelia held back a gasp. She was certain she had just seen one of the curtains twitch every so slightly with a tan hand grasping the fabric. “You all right?” Maisie asked. Amelia plastered a smile on her cheeks and faced her sister’s concerned dark brown eyes. She would bring up the house later. “Yeah, of course. Let’s go celebrate!” ~~~ Even when the sun had set and Amelia, Tania, Eleanor, and Maisie had settled down to eat, Stella still had not returned. Dishes were splattered around the table. Some were wrapped up in compostable take-out boxes while others were served on colorful platters. The flavorful misal pav lay at the center of the table. Garlic bread and bean stew squatted on either end. Lo mein, jollof rice, and mashed potatoes crowded the middle of the rectangular surface. There was no particular theme tonight and that was alright to Amelia. The food was just like her family. To some, the assortment may look mismatched, but, in fact, it was quite fulfilling. “It feels wrong to be eating without Stella,” Maisie said, pausing from slurping up her bean stew. “What errands is she even doing that are taking this long?” Tania shrugged and placed her chopsticks down on the edge of her plate. “Stella knew tonight was a big deal and we waited long enough for her. I’m not going to let this food get cold. It’s not everyday we go all out on meals.” Amelia nodded as she took a bite of her garlic bread. The sleek, oily carbohydrates brushed her tongue and she felt grateful for this food and to be with...well, most of her family. “Tell us more about Suriname and studying the rainforests there,” Eleanor said. With that, the attention transitioned away from Stella as Maisie chatted about the rainforest protection initiatives she helped organize and all the different flora and fauna that she had seen. As Maisie droned on, Amelia, who was situated on the right side of the table beside Tania, glanced out the window. After soaking in energy from the sun all day, the fluorescent street lights gleamed like earthbound stars. Shadows flitted around the neighbors’ yards as little trees and bushes shaded their perimeters. Naturally, Amelia’s eyes landed on the colonial. The house appeared silent as usual even with its mysterious candles flickering behind its curtains. Amelia’s gaze drifted past the windows to stare at the corners of the building. She jolted in her seat. Just barely visible on the right side of the house, she could see the edge of a familiar old blue vehicle. “What’s wrong, Amelia?” Tania asked. All three women peered down at Amelia with frowns etched on their faces. Amelia opened her mouth to speak, but then remembered what Tania had said earlier about not worrying over the house and how today they were celebrating. She didn’t want to ruin the moment with drama. “Thought I saw Stella. I think I’m going to take a look and see if she needs any help carrying things inside.” Amelia forced a grin onto her face. Tania leaned toward Amelia to try to peer outside. “Hmm. Don’t see anything, but go ahead and take a look if you want.” “Make sure to come back in time for dessert,” Eleanor said as Amelia stood up from the table. “Don’t want to miss the cake I bought.” Amelia nodded and scurried over to the door. ~~~ It took Amelia less than a minute to reach the sidewalk outside the white colonial. Mosquitos flitted around her neck and cheeks and the humidity cocooned her bare legs and arms. Sure enough, her family’s car was parked in the colonial’s driveway. Trembling, Amelia crept across the stone pathway to the building’s door. The way the streetlights accentuated the shadows and the crickets chittered in the background made Amelia feel uneasy, as if someone was watching her. As she approached the porch of the house, the front lights flickered on, illuminating the plain white seating area. A dusty wooden chair sat to Amelia’s left and a glass table covered with specks of dirt lay before it. Potted plants were scattered all over the sides of the porch, but unlike the table and chair, they seemed well-cared for. The doorbell glowed orange and with her fingers tingling, Amelia clicked the button. Ding. The sound echoed in the air and even the crickets seemed to pause for a moment. A warm breeze brushed Amelia’s black hair against her collarbone and she clutched her hands together. Thumping reverberated inside the house and Amelia took a step back. With a creak, the door opened to reveal a petite Southeast Asian woman. Amelia gasped. The woman’s tan face was...Her expression of surprise mirrored Amelia’s own. The way she gripped her hands together and stared at the ground...It wasn’t Stella, but she certainly looked like Stella, but even more than Stella, she looked like...Amelia. “Angelica,” a voice, an older, feminime voice, called from what appeared to be the kitchen. “Who’s there?” The woman, Angelica, opened and closed her mouth. Finally, she made out, “It’s no one. Just the wind.” Her dark brown eyes did not leave Amelia’s. “You’re not supposed to be here,” Angelica whispered. “Stella, my sister...your mother promised.” Amelia’s throat felt like it was being sucked into her chest. She felt cold even though the temperature outside was warm. “Wh-who are you?” she asked, even though she already knew. Angelica shook her head. “Just go.” The door shut in Amelia’s face. Her head throbbing, Amelia twisted around and scampered down the steps. She was halfway across the stone pathway when a voice called her name. She twisted to her left to see Stella standing in the driveway by their car with empty reusable grocery bags in her hands. Despite the dark, Amelia could make out Stella’s concerned expression. Holding back a sob, Amelia ran over to her mother. ~~~ The rest of the night went as planned. The five of them ate cake, teased one another, and laughed about how late Stella was. It wasn’t until Amelia was alone in her bedroom, getting ready to sleep when Stella knocked on her door to chat. “Is Angelica my mother?” The two of them sat beside one another on Amelia’s bed. Stella brushed a strand of her own black hair behind her ear. “You met Angelica once before. On your eighth birthday. I had run into her while getting flowers with Maisie for your party and invited her over. I didn’t know she was your birth mother then.” Amelia vaguely remembered that party. It had just been with her family. She couldn’t remember Angelica being there, but it sounded like she hadn’t visited long. “My sister...she got caught up in something bad, something I disapproved of. A cult, I guess others would call it, but they aren’t hurting anyone.” Stella’s eyes were distant with memory. “I pushed Angelica away for ten years until I saw her at that flower shop. I thought maybe I could be a better sister, but...I was wrong. She left your party without me noticing and it took a year before I tracked her down again.” Amelia stared down at her toes. The soft fabric of her bedsheets tickled her thighs and she fiddled with the edge of her blanket. “How did you find her?” “The group my sister is part of operates with these places called ‘Temple Houses.’ Members live there so they can do their practices privately. The group isn’t associated with any religion. They’re very seclusive and focused on community and nature. I figured out where some of the Temple Houses were and located the one Angelica was staying at the time. I offered to support her and make sure she and her friends had food. “Eventually, after a couple years, she trusted me enough to let me know that she had recognized you as her daughter when she came to that birthday party. She felt ashamed about leaving you, but she also wanted to know how you were doing, so I helped her buy the colonial across the street. Eleanor and Tania agreed to assist me. It’s now a Temple House and Angelica runs it. I help out with the more practical things like getting groceries. It’s why I don’t use public transportation. I don’t want anyone getting suspicious.” Amelia nodded. She glanced at the window, which now displayed an image of the milky way. A little fan whirred silently on her bookshelf washing Amelia with waves of cool air. What was Angelica doing now? Was she thinking about Amelia? Stella placed a warm hand on Amelia’s wrist, stilling her fiddling. “Angelica didn’t want you to know all of this because she doesn’t want you to feel ashamed of your birth mother. She loves you though and I hope you know that we do, too.” Amelia met her adoptive mother’s dark brown eyes, which she now recognized as being similar not only to Angelica’s, but her own as well. She leaned against Stella’s shoulder. Amelia knew now that the Temple House was nothing to be scared of, but that didn’t mean things weren’t complicated. She listened to Eleanor and Tania chattering downstairs. She heard Maisie shuffling around in the bathroom nearby. She could feel Stella’s grasp over her hand. Amelia had always been a loner and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. She couldn’t predict what would happen next with Angelica, but she did know she wasn’t alone. Written by Darcy Ridge Coleman Character brainstormed by Darcy Ridge Coleman and Hunter Fawkes Marietta cherished how the sun’s golden rays blanketed the snow-covered sand. She delighted in how the sprinkles of pink and orange glimmered in the writhing waves. She appreciated how as night crept ever closer, the sun made a promise to return.
On New Year’s Eve 2020, Marietta stood by herself on the boardwalk. It was not even six o’clock and the sun had already begun to set over the little town of Buchtton, Massachusetts. She had been shocked to find the beach vacated at this time, but hadn’t spent long dwelling on why. Today she needed a sunset. The year was finally ending. Of course, Marietta knew that COVID wouldn’t go away with the chime of twelve and neither would the heaviness lodged inside of her vanish, but she hungered for the hope that her adoptive fathers and little sisters appeared to possess. She craved to smile and believe a better tomorrow did exist. The wind shifted Marietta’s black hair against her cheeks and she twitched. She had come to the United States at sixteen from a small orphanage in Jiangsu Province, China. She had grown up speaking Jianghuai Mandarin and had learned English from an American woman who had taught at the institution. What had been that woman’s name? That was another thing Marietta liked about sunsets. As the sun sank beneath the waves, so could her own distress over her inconsistent memories. She had been in the U.S. for three and a half years now, but anytime she tried to recall a specific memory from her life in the orphanage, nothing would surface. The only things from her past life that Marietta could remember were her Mandarin speaking skills and the faint image of that American woman smiling at her and holding out her hand. Marietta leaned against the wooden railing of the boardwalk and let the cawing of the seagulls fill her ears. New year, she thought to herself. I can’t get lost in my thoughts again. But the woman had meant something to Marietta. She had been more than a teacher. She had been a… friend? … guardian? No, something bigger than that. “Hey, there,” a voice came from her right. Marietta swiveled her head around to see a woman standing on the boardwalk beside her. The woman wore an olive winter jacket and her dark hair was sprawled around her shoulders. The sun glinted off her brown skin and if a blue mask hadn’t been covering the woman’s mouth, Marietta would have been certain that the woman was smiling. She looked familiar. Was this the woman from the orphanage? Although they were already six feet apart, Marietta took a step back from the other person. She fiddled with the hem of her sweater. “Hi,” she murmured. “No gloves, I see,” the woman said, chuckling. “Of course you don’t need them. I’m Lily Beas. You may or may not remember me. I taught you English, among other things. You can call me Lily.” So it was the woman from the orphanage, but what was she doing here? Marietta trembled. The ground felt like it was swaying underneath her feet. “I was just thinking about you.” A sad look came over Lily’s eyes. “I know.” Lily turned toward the ocean. “You like the sunset. You always come here at this time.” Panic sparked through Marietta’s body. How did this woman know so much about her? She clenched the railing beside her and was surprised to feel the wood bend to her will ever so slightly. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m actually quite sad about what I was originally sent to do. I’ve been hearing from your fathers that you’ve been… off lately. Feeling depressed. Since you began college last year and quarantine started this March, I haven’t been able to get around to… visiting you as much as I did previously.” “There’s something wrong with me?” Marietta’s voice quivered. She wanted to run away, but for some reason her mind told her she was safe with this Lily Beas. Lily sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with you for feeling depressed. It’s… complicated. The others were concerned that this was some sort of defect. We made you to be as human-like as possible, so you developing a mental illness was always a possibility in my opinion.” “You-you made me?” Marietta peered at her hands. They seemed so real. Dark green veins stretched through her tan palms and creases formed at her knuckles. Lily observed the sunset. The sun was so low now that only streaks of gold hanging in the horizon proved its existence. “Since we moved you out of our lab in Mary’s Box two years ago, we’ve been keeping an eye on you remotely. Every now and then I would be sent to visit and reboot you.” Mary’s Box. Isn’t that a jewelry store? For some reason, Marietta felt comforted by the name of that shop. She couldn’t remember ever going inside of it, but it’s name felt familiar. She let out a deep breath. “Are… are you going to reboot me now?” “No.” Marietta gazed at Lily who still faced the ocean. “Why not?” “I’m tired of this cycle. I crave for you to live instead of always returning to this moment. It’s a new year and I want you to know the truth. You find beauty in these sunsets because they’re predictable and stable. The sun will always come back, right?” Marietta gave a stiff nod. She brushed away a strand of black hair that the wind had flung into her eyes. “It’s time for you to recognize that it’s okay if not everything is like the sunset. Some things can’t be lit up by the sun and other things won’t return. You agonize over your lost memories of your orphanage, but they never existed in the first place.” A tear stung Marietta’s vision. She let go of the railing to wipe it away. Her fingers left behind a dent in the wood. Lily’s dark brown eyes met Marietta’s own with generosity, but also ferocity. “You aren’t human, but we made you to be. You can cry, bleed, laugh, eat, and do almost everything a human can. You deserve honesty.” “What’s going to happen now?” “I’m going to allow you to go home and celebrate the New Year with your fathers. They already know that I have told you the truth. Your little sisters and everyone else in the world don’t know you’re an A.I. and for now, we at Mary’s Box would like to keep it that way. We will keep an eye on you still, but we’re no longer going to reboot you. You were designed to be independent and it’s time for us to start letting you go.” Marietta noticed a tear streaking down Lily’s face and dampening her blue mask. Letting go, Marietta thought. She tilted her head toward the sunset again. The stripes of gold were still there, but sinking lower and permitting the darkness of night to creep closer. “Thank you,” Marietta said. “Thank you for being honest.” Lily nodded and bowed her head. “Of course. I will leave you now.” With that, the woman stepped away from the boardwalk, her feet barely making a sound. ~~~ “Marietta, you’re back!” her tatay exclaimed as Marietta lumbered through the apartment door. She and her little sisters called their Filipino American father “tatay” and their Black American father “dad.” At the moment, her fathers and younger sisters were seated around the living room’s coffee table playing Trouble. Rosa, eight, seemed more interested in the book she was reading, but she glanced up to smile at Marietta. The five-year-old Tsunami ran over to hug Marietta’s legs. “I’m glad to see you’re okay,” her dad said. Although a grin lingered on his face, his eyes seemed to be searching Marietta for any insecurities. “Yeah, I’m alright,” Marietta said. Tsunami gripped onto Marietta’s fingers and dragged her over to the coffee table. “You can be on my team,” Tsunami whispered. “There are no teams in Trouble,” Rosa muttered. “Now there are,” Tsunami retorted. Marietta chuckled as she squatted down beside her youngest sister. As the family of five continued on with the game, Marietta watched the darkness settle outside the living room window. The heaviness from before still moped inside of her and she knew it would take time before she accepted everything she had learned tonight, but she allowed herself to share smiles with her fathers and sisters and to feel a twinge of excitement for the coming year. Despite everything Lily Beas had said, Marietta still loved sunsets, she decided, yet she now knew how to let them go. Maybe life wouldn’t magically get better and Lily was right, some things couldn’t return, but Marietta would keep living anyways. Last night, I saw a woman standing in the woods outside my window. She had light brown skin and long black hair. I frowned. We were supposed to be social distancing. Why would she be there? Yet, she swayed in the wind with her loose silver dress billowing around her slim body. Even when I blinked, I could still see her. Kylie, I told myself. You’re going crazy. Just go back to bed. And that’s what I did. The next morning, I woke up to see the April sun shimmering through my window. The green canopy of trees was barely visible from my vantage point. The woman. My heart pounding, I slipped out of my bed more quickly than any other seventeen-year-old would do on a no-school day. I pressed my face against the cool glass. No woman was there. I sighed. I must have imagined everything. “Kylie,” I heard my mother’s voice come from downstairs. “It’s your turn to take out the trash!” Groaning, I headed out of my bedroom. ~~~ That night, I waited by my window. I craved to see the woman again. There was something so eerie, but entrancing about her. All this COVID-19 stuff is going to my brain, I thought. Lately, I’d been anxious for my mother’s side of the family who were Mashpee Wampanoag. The tribe’s reservation was struggling with lack of government support and resources. My parents had been sending as much virtual aid as possible, but it still hurt being physically isolated from one side of my family. Then, of course, my dad’s side of the family were all in Shanghai and we hadn’t had much contact with them either. I just need a distraction from all this stress. The moon glistened in the sky above me. It was so round and golden. A super full moon, my dad had said earlier. I closed my eyes just for a moment to allow the yellow light to bathe me with its invisible warmth. I could almost imagine myself dancing on the moon’s dusty surface with my feet bounding through the air. Stars glinted around me and the Earth bobbed in the distance. Beside me was the woman, her red lips parted in a smile and her dark brown eyes were alight with euphoria. I blinked. She was still there and I was still on the moon. My heart soared in my chest and I, feeling like I could catch the stars, sprung through the air. “The moon is beautiful,” the woman said. It took me a moment to recognize she was speaking Shanghainese, my father’s first language. “Yeah,” I replied in the same tongue. I paused beside her. “Who are you?” “Someone who is alone.” “I get that.” I fiddled with the sleeve of my pink pajama top. It had been weeks since I had last seen my friends in person. I missed how Isla would doodle on my arm and how Christie talked so much at lunch that she always forgot to eat. I longed to meet up at the beach again with Amber and have vibrant discussions about the books we were reading. The woman nodded at me and held out her right hand. “Let me show you.” Normally, I would never take a stranger’s hand, but things were weird enough tonight. I was on the moon and exceptions could be made. I clenched her cool grasp. A light sparked between us and the ground swiveled underneath my feet. My stomach lurched in my body and I squeezed my eyes shut. “Take a look,” the woman’s voice filtered through my ears. I gazed at the scene before me. I was back in my town of Buchtton, Massachusetts, I realized. The night air tangled around my legs and I could feel the concrete driveway underneath my feet. Before me sat the colonial of my friend Isla Yue. Through the front window, I could see Isla with her back to us and her head bowed. I smiled. I knew that pose anywhere. She was drawing. Even with quarantine, my friend was still finding the strength to do the activity that made her happy. “Why are you showing me this?” I asked in Shanghainese. The woman did not answer. She held out her right hand again and I clasped it. This time, I was prepared for my stomach to feel like it was being tossed around. When I regained my composure, I noticed we were in front of a different colonial in Buchtton. “This is Christie’s house.” I spotted my friend’s red hair and pale skin through the window. She was in her kitchen with her sisters and mothers. I gazed as the family ate and laughed together. A pang of sadness shot though me as I remembered how isolated I was from my extended family and how they did not have the financial privileges of my friends. Then again, I knew things were complicated for Christie, too, because she was adopted and had no idea how her birth family was doing. I turned away from the sight. A cold breeze dragged across my arms and I shivered. The woman offered her hand. I embraced it and the ground shuddered under my feet. When the shaking stopped, I was not surprised to be standing in front of Amber’s house. He lived right across from the beach. Salty air flew through my nostrils and the thrumming of the waves soothed me. I grinned. My anxiety for my family lifting, I closed my eyes. I could almost picture myself with Amber on the beach with books gripped in our hands and smiles plastered on our cheeks. I opened my eyes. Through the window of Amber’s home, I could make out my friend reading on his bunk bed. The light of the lamp beside him made his curly black hair glimmer and illuminated his deep brown skin. His sister Ayana entered the room and he looked up and beamed at her. For a final time, the woman held out her right hand. Sighing, I obliged and grasped her palm. The world once more swirled around me and my stomach tumbled inside of me. We landed in front of my small cape house. The downstairs light was on and I could see my parents talking to each other in our little living room. My younger siblings, Stacey and Dan, were nowhere to be seen. My parents’ heads were bent together and they seemed to be looking at something. I turned to the woman. “Thank you,” I whispered. “Who are you?” The woman smiled. In a flash of golden light, she was gone. I went up the stone steps to my house and creaked open the door. My parents, sitting on the couch by the window, gaped at me. The warm air of my home enveloped me and it struck me how chilly the weather had been outside. “Where were you?” my mother asked. Her dark brown eyes were wide. My father just stared at me. “Oh, taking a walk.” I meandered over to my parents. A book lay on the coffee table in front of them. “What’re you looking at?” “Just an old scrapbook from when you kids were younger.” My mother was still frowning at me, but both of my parents seemed to have accepted I wasn’t going to tell them any more information. I slid onto the sofa beside my mother and leaned on her shoulder. I peered down at the scrapbook before us. A picture from when I was in elementary school gleamed back up at me. It was an image from Winter Break of second grade, the one time relatives from both my Chinese and Mashpee Wampanoag sides of my family had visited Buchtton. Swaddled in thick jackets and scarves, we all huddled in front of the house for a photo. Everyone was smiling, even my younger brother Dan who had been five at the time and obsessed with scowling. “Mom,” I murmured. “Are we going to be okay?” “I don’t know, Kylie, but your father and I are here for you.” She massaged my back. I twisted my head around to look out the window at the glittering full moon. My mother was right. There was no way to be certain of the future, but I understood, thanks to the moon, that my friends and family would be there for me. And I will be there for them, too. Even if we’re apart. Finally, to learn more about the Mashpee Wampanoag Tribe and how to support them, I highly recommend checking out their official website: https://mashpeewampanoagtribe-nsn.gov/.
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AboutI'm Darcy Aisling, just a Chinese adoptee living in a big world. They/them This blog serves as place for me to share my thoughts and stories surrounding adoption. To read more of my reviews and fanfiction, head off to Goodreads and Archive of Our Own. To view more of my stories, visit Wattpad.
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