Life in a Fishbowl

Unmarked, shiny, and red, like a mid-life crisis convertible, the sled was a thing of beauty. Baby Jared did his Baby Jared dance, basically running in place and laughing, as he held the sled’s yellow string. He didn’t know that it was meant to be used in the snow, but it didn’t matter. It was, according to his scale of the world, huge, and it was his.

The feeling was pure unadulterated joy. The tumor was so happy it thought it would cry, if it had eyes, tear ducts, or tears, but it was just the same. The experience was as tender as if it were happening in the present, in the physical world.

For her part, Deirdre caught Jared and helped him to the floor. He collected his thoughts, such as they were, pushed himself up, managed to stand without falling over, and turned back to the throng at his front door.

The tumor didn’t even notice.

***

“There’s something wrong with Dad.” Megan burst into the room, stopping in the doorway, breathing hard. Jackie kept her eyes glued to her phone.

Megan cleared her throat. “Did you hear me?”

Jackie had heard Megan but just figured that her little sister was trying to find a new and sinister way to torture her. For reasons Jackie never understood, it had become a favorite pastime of Megan’s. She’d find the one thing that mattered most to Jackie and use it as a weapon against her.

Once, years earlier, Megan had asked: “Is there a boy in your class named Kevin something or other?” She was in fourth grade, Jackie in sixth; and the question made Jackie’s heart stop.

Kevin Memmott sat in front of Jackie. He was an ordinary boy with an easy way about him, and he was Jackie’s first real crush. Each morning when he entered the class and said hello to her, Jackie’s palms got sweaty and her stomach felt like it was shrinking. She would put her head down and mutter hello from beneath her bangs. He would shrug and take his seat, and they wouldn’t talk again during the day. To Kevin, it was a forgettable routine. For Jackie, it was their routine.

“There is a boy named Kevin,” she told Megan. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason, just that I heard him talking to another boy … about you.” Even at nine years old, Megan was as good at baiting her sister as a professional fisherman was at tying a fly on the end of his line.

“What were they saying?” Jackie asked, looking at her feet and twirling her finger through her hair, trying but failing to pretend like she really didn’t care.

“Well, I heard them saying … ” Megan paused, and even though they were in the privacy of Jackie’s bedroom, she lowered her voice, like she was telling a secret and didn’t want anyone else to hear. “I heard them saying that he likes you!”

Every person who has ever had a crush believes, in their heart of hearts, that the object of their affection feels the same way, even though there has never been any outward sign of it. Jackie spent so much time imagining that she and Kevin were girlfriend and boyfriend that Megan’s lie was just too easy to believe.

Megan could see that she had the hook in her sister’s mouth, and all she had to do was reel her in.

“He was talking to some other boy in your class, Scott something or other.” Scott Yee, Jackie thought, Kevin Memmott’s best friend. “He said he really likes you, and wants to ask you out, but just wished you would dress nicer.”

The next day, Jackie, who never wore anything other than blue jeans and loose-fitting sweaters, donned the same dress she had worn to church on Easter Sunday just a few weeks before. It was faded pink, hung down just above her knees, and had a big bow in the back. Her parents were so happy to see Jackie come out from under her shell that they couldn’t help but ooh and aah over her at the breakfast table.

When she got to school, Jackie waited out front for Kevin Memmott, just standing there in her pink dress, everyone doing a double take as they passed by. When Kevin finally arrived, Jackie lit up like a high-powered flashlight.

She mustered the courage to say, “Hi, Kevin,” as he and Scott Yee approached.

“Huh? Oh, hi,” he said, not even noticing her.

An instant later, another boy, Jason Sanderson, with his thick glasses, uncombed hair, and a prematurely pockmarked face, walked up. “Boy, oh boy, Jackie, you look pretty today!”

Jackie liked Jason well enough. He was a nice boy, though utterly unaware of his surroundings, as if part of his brain was always somewhere else. The frumpy appearance combined with the absentminded-professor demeanor made him a favorite target of the other children. It made Jackie angry that they picked on Jason; once she even stepped outside her comfort zone and came to his defense. But on this day, the day of the Easter dress, Jason Sanderson was the last boy on Earth she wanted to see.

Then, from somewhere behind her, Jackie heard giggles and snorts; both she and Jason turned around. Megan and her friends were standing nearby, doubled over in laughter. Jackie knew right away that, though they usually brayed like hyenas for no reason at all, this time their laughter had purpose.

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