Bates & Landon [Wattys2015]

BATES

Bates

I mustered the courage to walk up to Landon to ask about a class I already knew where to go to. I was shaking, but she didn't notice. She led me where to go.

In art class, we had to paint with our minds, not our hands. I had a passion for painting, I loved it. I had a whole set at my house in my room. My eyes closed, I reached for paint. And I began painting.

I remembered pain. The feeling of hopelessness inside of me. Yet, the determination I felt to do. I felt my hands stroke fastly, almost angrily. The crazy emotions no one cared to notice. Then I thought of Landon, even if I had just met her but how she was so kind to me. It made me feel more hope inside me, but I wouldn't latch myself to her. No, I wouldn't. She was just being polite to me, nothing more. My strokes became slower as I reached for another paint color. I made slower small strokes.

When I opened my eyes, Landon and Barbie were watching me, well, they were looking at my painting. Landon's eyes were narrowed, as if she was trying to figure out what it meant. Her friend was grinning widely as she gazed at it.

"Wow," Landon said as she looked at me. "It's so...." I looked over at hers. It was black, white, and red. The colors were all morphed together. Yet, while I gazed at it I saw that most of the strokes lined against the canvas, swirls of black around the edges. Red long, loops strokes filled the middle accompanied by white. It wasn't all morphed together though.

"It's so...so beautiful." She finished.

I shrugged. "It's okay." It wasn't one of my best, but it wasn't my worst either.

"No, it's--" Landon began, but Mrs. Ellie came to us, cutting her off.

"Oh my," she looked down at my work, looking awestruck. "T-That's very, very good. Wow."

"Um, thanks." I looked away, embarrassed.

"Do you like painting?" Mrs. Ellie smiled at me warmly. "You sure have a talent."

"Yes, I do. Like painting, that is." I managed a plastered smile on my face.

"Good, I look forward to seeing more work of yours!" She, then, walked away to assist students who need help.

"It is good!" Landon's friend said a bit too cheerfully. I gave her a thin lipped smile.

"Yeah, it really is." Landon said, eyes big and bright.

"Mhm," I looked at her. She was smiling at me, simply. She unconsciously bit her lip, stil gazing at my work.

Such beauty in a little person amongst the various galaxies and stars and planets and other living things and non living things, I thought. Which meant she was too precious, too fragile for my broken hands to hold.

I didn't deserve to hold her.

•••

When school was over, I found my little sister, Emmy -- her name is actually Emma, but I called her Emmy -- waiting by the school bus for me. She saw me walking to her and she began to jump up and down yelling my name, "Bates! Bates!"

I smiled, a real one, and hugged her when she leaped into my arms. "Oh, Bates," Emmy was ten years old, "I had a bad day."

"What? Why?" I asked, alarmed and pulled back to look at her. "What happened?"

She shook her long brown hair. "I don't know, Bates, I just did. Do you ever get those?"

All the time.

"Yeah, I have a few times. It's okay though, everyone feels that way at times. Hey, how about we go get some ice cream? That sound good, Emmy?"

Her face brightens up and she smiles. "Yes!"

I manage a small grin at her. She was actually the only person I cared for. I'm not lying or just saying that to seem like an amazing brother. No, my mom was a shit head. Always out with her boyfriend (she literally had one new every week) and never caring for her two children. I became the "mom" and "dad" of the house, taking care of my little sister, Emmy. It didn't bother me, I was used to taking care of her.

Emmy, licking her vanilla ice cream cone, looked up at me. "You look sad. Why are you so sad?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sad, Emmy." I looked away from her. I hated lying to her, but sometimes it was mandatory.

"You look like it," she looked a lot like me with her brown hair, but she had pretty blue eyes.

"How?" I asked. I'd have to learn how to hide it better.

"Well, for starters, you're frowning." At that, she leaned across the table, her hands reaching for my mouth and pushed up my lips into a smile. "Don't frown, Bates, you look a lot better when you smile." She removed her hands from my mouth. "Also, you keep staring off and not listening to what I've been telling you."

"Emmy, I'm sorry. I really am.."

She just shrugged. "It's okay, bubba, everyone gets sad sometimes. You can't help it." I smiled -- a real one, again -- as she began licking more of her ice cream. Sadness seemed to be like a strom; sometimes it left damage and sometimes it didn't. For instance, a storm could effect a certain place so badly that it leaves damage, destroying land and buildings. Other times, it had happened and you know it's there.

And it'll never be the same.

"Thanks for the ice cream." Emmy says, hugging me.

"Oh, you're welcome." I patted the top of her head. "Okay, let's see what you have for homework.." I pulled out her worksheet and I let her sit down, me sitting beside her so I could help her.

"This sucks," she made a mad face, "homework sucks."

"Yeah, tell me about it," I murmured. "Look, we are almost done anyways, Emmy." She sighed but listened to me anyways.

When her homework was done, I made her some cereal for dinner. While she ate in the kitchen, I sat in the living room, reading. Suddenly, the front door opened and came my -- highly intoxicated mom -- and I got up, watching her.

She staggered past the couch I was seated, shooting me a glare, and kept walking. Emmy, not knowing she was drunk, yelled, "Mommy! I missed you!" And she ran to hug her. Our mom winced, put her hand to her forehead, and pushed Emmy away with her other hand. My little sister, backed up fastly but caught herself, and looked at our 'mom' who was shooting us both a glare now.

"What?" Moms voice made shivers run up my spine, her voice was cold and hoarse. "Go away. Leave me alone, both of you!"

"I..." Emmy began, but mom slammed the door and Emmy was cut off.

"Come on," I gently took Emmy away from the door that our mom had shut herself in, "want me to read to you?"

She blinked hard, a sign she was about to cry, and nodded.