by Alyssa Chivington
Katherine often found herself at a level of anger that can most accurately be described as a simmer on low heat. Her anger did not bubble over her edges- it tended to remain a safe distance from them, though it wouldn’t take more than a nudge of a dial to bump her to a rolling boil. It takes practice to amass the kind of turmoil the teen kept buttoned under her grey cardigan. Her eyes wandered over people outside, thinking to herself that there were entirely too many people in existence, and dreaming about them turning into bubbles and floating away while she mopped the bathrooms in the back. Contrary to her anger Katherine was not an unhappy person, she enjoyed most things in life; like driving with the windows down, the coolness of the tiles at the pool, and her bird Sesame. But she did not enjoy the work assigned to her by a 5’5 block of ice named Helen- who also happened to be her sister.
“Kat do me a favor and count the drawers after you’re done with that?” Helen asked, interrupting Katherine’s thoughts.
“Sure.” Katherine mumbled, a forced smile stuck on her face like the gum underneath the candy display.
Katherine often imagined herself as Cinderella, slaving away while Helen kept her locked in a tower, laughing an evil stepmother’s laugh. Helen, however, imagined herself as flight attendant on a plane that was careening towards the earth, and as she tried to affix an oxygen mask to the person in seat 2B the phone rang. The petite woman picked up the phone from its place on the wall “Hello, how many I help you?” She said, using what drops of gentleness she had left.
“Helen? Can you come get me?” The voice wavered, his tone unsure.
“Jack? Sure, give me another minute to close up, I’ll bring Kat.” She said, smiling as though he might see and take comfort in it.
Helen ran her hand through her hair and then wondered when the veins in her hand had begun to show through- she was only thirty, and thirty was too young to have old hands. She came out from the office and around the corner, taking notice of the fact that Kat had only gotten one of the drawers counted.
“That was Jack.” Helen said. Kat’s eyes, which seldom met the eyes of others, were instantly attentive.
“I know.” She said softly.
Kat regularly listened in on phone calls, it saved her the trouble of having to ask later. The sisters spoke in glances and Katherine quickly put the drawer back in its place. When their brother went away they got stuck minding the store, and they were still waiting for him to come back. The pair walked to the car, the streetlights humming overhead. Helen noticed the group of moths that flew in panicked loops around the light, and she wished to trade places. She was the eternal flame, steadfast and unyielding. Everyone else sought her out, moving around her in fear and panic, waiting for her word. She wanted the luxury of a rash decision now and again, perhaps even a brief and tumultuous relationship that would give her feeling in the tips of her toes. She saved money for clothes she’d never buy and trips she’d never take, and sometimes she closed her eyes in her worn sweater and pretended she was on a balcony in Verona.
“Where’s he at?” Katherine said, pulling the car door closed with effort.
“Home. But he thinks he’s still over there.” Helen responded, turning the key in the ignition.
This writing is part of a collection featured in the 2020 Celebrate the Arts Writing Contest, an annual contest hosted by The Arts Council of Westerville, Westerville Public Library and the ThisWeek Westerville News & Public Opinion as one of many events organized by the Arts Council to mark April as “Celebrate the Arts” month in Westerville.
