Letting Go of Gravity

One night it stormed, and the entire room lit up with lightning, my heart clamoring with each thunderclap. I sat up, clutching my sheet around me, looking over. Charlie was awake too, but his eyes were wide with wonder, like they had been during the fireworks. Seeing him like that quieted my pulse, let me sink back to the bed, to fall asleep amid the noise.

We stopped going to Michigan after he got sick. I think my parents were worried about Charlie’s immune system, and soon enough, there were the mounds of hospital bills they had to catch up on.

And then we just never went again.

“When I got chemo for the first time, they told me to think of the last time I was happy, and so I closed my eyes and pretended we were back on that porch,” Charlie says.

I stop for a second, surprised our memories of it are the same. “You did?”

But before he can answer, Ruby’s voice jolts us back into the present.

“Parker! Charlie! You gotta see this!”

She and Finn are stopped in front of us, at the side of a building on Hamilton.

Charlie starts walking forward, turning to see if I’m following him, almost like he’s making sure he hasn’t left me behind.

When we reach them, Finn points to the brightly colored image painted on the wall: a yellow figure riding a horse, holding up what looks like a puppet, small white birds patterned all around and behind them. The horse has small flutters near its feet, like it’s flying, lifting off from the street into a luminous blue-purple space.

It’s gorgeous, a fairy tale come to life in the middle of Cincinnati.

“This is by Brazilian street artists. Os Gemeos,” Finn says.

“They’re twins, like you two,” Ruby adds. Charlie looks at her, impressed. “Finn just told me,” she admits.

“It’s really cool,” I say, getting up close to lightly trace one of the small birds. “Maybe we should become a street-art duo, Charlie.” I turn to him to gauge his reaction, but the expression on his face is frozen.

Erin’s standing there next to us, her brown hair pulled back in a pert ponytail with a red-white-and-blue ribbon, her skin tanned and even, her Xavier University tee bright blue and white. The only thing not perfect on her is the uncomfortable expression on her face, the one currently mirroring Charlie’s.

She steps forward, reaching an arm out to Charlie and then stopping herself. “It’s really good to see you.”

Charlie lets out an exhale. “You too,” he says.

Next to me, Ruby stiffens.

No one says anything then until Erin breaks the awkward silence. “How are you feeling?”

Charlie shoves his hands in his pockets. “Good. Really good, actually. My blood cell count is looking normal again.”

Her face lights up, her shoulders falling in relief. “Oh my God, I’m so happy to hear that! You must be really happy to hear that too. Your whole family must be, right?”

Erin looks hopefully at me, and I offer her a small smile. “Yeah, it’s good.”

Ruby rubs the bridge of her nose under her glasses.

Charlie’s still got this stricken look on his face, like a deer in headlights, so I clear my throat. “Hey, Erin. These are our friends Finn and Ruby. Guys, this is . . .” I don’t know how to describe her.

“Erin,” she says, smiling and shaking Finn’s hand before turning to Ruby, taking in her proximity to Charlie.

“Hi. I’m Ruby Collie,” Ruby offers, extending her hand. “Charlie’s told me a lot about you. I heard you’re going to Xavier next year to major in communication? That’s awesome. I thought about double minoring in that, because I think it’s good when doctors have good bedside manners, and I figure it can’t hurt to have a lot of skills at my fingertips, you know? Oh, yeah, I’m going to be a doctor, too, maybe cardiology or neurology, but definitely some time with Doctors Without Borders. . . .” She stops, catching herself midstream, and I can see her mom’s words echoing through her head.

“Um, so that’s cool. Nice to meet you,” Erin says, returning the handshake, clearly unsure how to respond.

I shoot Ruby a reassuring smile, but she looks vaguely sick to her stomach.

Erin turns back to Charlie. “So, I’ve been wanting to call you. It would be really good to hang out before I start freshman orientation at Xavier. Maybe we can catch up this week?”

“Maybe,” Charlie echoes.

Ruby’s shoulders fall and she lets out an audible sigh.

“Come on, Roo.” Finn guides her away from us. “We’re going to get some ice cream at the truck over there,” he says to me.

I nod.

“So, do you think you’ll do baseball again when you’re back at school?” Erin asks Charlie. “You know, Xavier’s got a team, if you ever want to come check it out.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s happening a month from now, let alone next year.”

“Oh, okay,” Erin says, surprised and clearly a little hurt by Charlie’s tone.

I see myself in her now, in how she wants to make sure he’s okay. After worrying about him for so long, it’s hard to stop.

“I just have to figure some stuff out still,” he explains.

“Sure, I get that.”

Charlie starts rubbing his hand over his scalp, like he’s trying to figure out what to talk about, and Erin folds her arms, chewing on her lip.

The awkwardness is making my eyelid twitch just by proximity. “Sooo, I guess I’ll get some ice cream too,” I say. “It was good seeing you, Erin.”

But she’s scanning Charlie’s face. “Babe, your cheeks are getting pretty red. Do you need some sunscreen? I know I have some in my bag. You know, skin cancer and all.”

He jerks back. “No.”

“You don’t need sunscreen?” Erin asks.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I have it on already. I meant no, I can’t meet up with you later this week.”

She falters. “What?”

Charlie hikes a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the ice cream truck. “Her. I’m seeing Ruby.” His response is lacking eloquence, for sure, but his tone is gentle.

“Oh,” Erin replies, her voice small, and even though Erin and I have never been super close, my heart hurts for her.

“I should probably get back to Ruby.” Charlie leans down, gives Erin a hug. “Good luck at Xavier next year, Erin. I mean it. I wish you nothing but good things. You ready, Parker?”

He doesn’t wait for me as he breaks into a jog, then an all-out run toward Ruby and Finn, calling out, “Wait up, guys. Roo!”

From where I’m standing, I can see the way Ruby’s face breaks into a smile when Charlie reaches her, one that gives the July sun a run for its money, and I wish not for the first time I were as brave as my brother.

I turn back to Erin.

She’s got a lost look on her face, and as soon as she sees me notice, she begins digging through her bag. “I know my phone’s in here somewhere,” she mutters, and I realize she’s trying not to cry in front of me.

“Thanks for watching out for my brother for all those years,” I say to her.

Erin looks up, surprised, but then she gives me a small smile. “You’re welcome, Parker.”

I’m sure it won’t be easy for her to figure out who she is without Charlie, the same way it’s been tough for Charlie to figure out who he is without cancer, for me to figure out who I am period. But Erin is unstoppable and devoted—a fierce star for the people she loves. I know she’ll be okay.

As I walk to join Finn and Charlie and Ruby, for the first time in a long time, I feel strangely hopeful (a sky of fluttering birds, a horse that can fly). Charlie really is okay.

And with that, I start to wonder if I can be too, if maybe my future is coming into shape with my own two hands, crooked and new, something that’s unexpected and all my own.





Fifty


“WE SHOULD BE ABLE to see some fireworks from here,” Finn says, pulling his truck to the side of the back road, right next to a field of sunflowers. All of them are closed up for the night, the blooms nodding heavily, barely able to support the weight of themselves after the sun goes down.

“Are we that close to Kings Island?” I ask, checking my watch. We have only a few more minutes until they start.

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