Nobody Can Say It's You

33

Dara was the youngest, born 12 minutes after her sister, Chandra, at the exact stroke of midnight. She was the first to thaw to Granny Dilcie's overtures, finally accepting the old woman's invitations to walk the mountains and learn the old ways.

"We've got to move," Dara told Chandra.

"What are you talking about?" Dara said. "I'm not going anywhere."

Dara was sitting on her bed next to the window in the room where she and her sister had always shared a room. Chandra was sitting on her twin bed, barely four feet away from her sister's. Dara was very still, almost serene. She'd been staring out the window for several moments.

"How can you sit there like nothing's happened? Dara! Wake up! Mama's dead! Nothing is ever going to be the same! Nothing!"

Dara eyes fell on her sister. Chandra was figiting, picking at the strings that edged a small hole in her bedspread.

"Leave that alone," Dara said. "You'll only make it worse."

"Worse," Chandra said. "Things can't get much worse. We're orphans. Too old to be adopted and too young to be set out in the world on our own."

Every muscle in her sister's body was taut. Chandra's eyes were darting over the room, refusing to light on any object. She jumped when Dara's cool fingers reached over to brush back a tendril of unruly hair from her sister's face.

"Don't worry," Dara said. "We're going to be alright. Granny Dilce wants us. She said so."

"Where?"

"At the cemetery."

"And you could process anything there?" Chandra asked.

Dara sat down beside her sister. Her voice was calm and even as she spoke to her sister.

"You're right. Things are pretty crappy now. I miss her, too, Chandra. But we've got to be practical. We are orphans, but we still have each other. Granny's the only relative who's come forward to offer us a roof over our heads."

Chandra scoffed.

"I know it's primitive. I know it's going to take some getting used to. But look, it's not forever. I promise."

***

"What are we doing way out here?" Chandra asked. "Dara, we don't have running water. There's no toilet in this cabin."

"Well," said Dara, "we don't have to worry about what to watch on cable."

"We don't have to worry about how we'll look under electric light, Dara. I'm afraid I'll burn down the house with these friggin' candles."

"I know," said Dara. "But Granny's always lived like this."

"She's two hundred years old. What are we going to do if she gets sick? It's not like we can call for help or anything."

Chandra was biting her lower lip.

"Stop worrying, Chandra. Everything's going to be okay. You'll see."

"What are you saying? If we do more than stub our toe out here, we're totally screwed."

Dara was silent. She fingered the small red bag tied with cord that always dangled around her neck. Chandra was a worrier, Dara decided. If they needed help, the Ancients would come. Hadn't Granny said as much?