Lay it on the bed, beside the pillow I sink my head down into, a cushion for my dreams.
Funny, but before all this I didn’t dare dream too far into the future. It’s like unlocking the past freed me to move into tomorrow in pursuit of bigger goals than I ever thought possible.
Thank you, Maya McCabe, for never giving up on finding me.
I inherited your looks.
I hope you’ve given me your courage
and determination, too.
I’m still scared
to try and make it on my own. But I don’t have to do it all alone.
I have friends.
I have Monica.
And I have a mom.
No More Tonight
I glance at the clock.
One a.m.
Seems I missed
Hillary’s Christmas party.
Christmas.
Not my favorite holiday, but this year, beyond the drama, I find hope in the gift Mom’s given me.
Not just the journal itself, but in what it represents: moving into the New Year blessed with the hindsight of yesterday.
Looking two directions at once.
I still don’t know exactly who I am.
But I’m a lot closer.
I’m Casey Baxter, eighteen years old.
I’m in love with a girl named Monica.
And I don’t want that to be a secret anymore.
I’m done with secrets.
Postscript
Held fast atop terra firma,
by a force not yet fully explained, I gaze upon the electric waltz of the aurora borealis and consider what
mystical Intelligence might in fact have created such mad beauty.
From here the northern lights appear random in flow, but I understand if I
could peer down from outer space, I’d see how auroras crown the poles, north and south, where the earth’s magnetic field is strongest. I am
amazed by the science. Probability.
But more intriguing is the design, past in relationship to future.
Possibility flung from a faraway solar
plane. Sometimes I wonder if I am only flesh, bone, and blood, or might I be a spark of stellar fire, carried through time on the tail of astral wind?
Maya’s Journal
For Casey
November 2001
In the wake of the World Trade Center tragedy, every American life feels changed. Patriotism is running high. Red, white, and blue is a common theme. Flags fly in the usual places, but also on porch pillars, car antennas, and trees in yards and parks. I’ve even seen one hoisted above a doghouse!
Neighbors are helping neighbors. Families have bonded tighter. (Mine happens to be an exception, but some relationships can’t be repaired.) Couples are holding each other closer. Your daddy and I even felt lovey-dovey again for a few days.
Things on base are a little crazy. Okay, a lot crazy. Rumors are flying about eventual deployment to the Middle East. Your daddy’s gone a lot, with extra training and lots of drills. Any military installation could be the next target, so everyone’s on edge. The hijackers took out part of the Pentagon, so it’s not much of a stretch to think we could be in danger here.
It didn’t take long to figure out who the hijackers were. The FBI found suitcases one of them left behind in Boston, where he took the jet. Inside was a list of every one of them, nineteen altogether. Most were from Saudi Arabia and had ties to some organization called Al-Qaeda.
I never heard of it before, but everyone’s heard of it now. They hate the United States because of our friendship with Israel, and because we have our own problems here at home. But now they hate us because of our presence in the Middle East. I think a lot of Americans were kind of like me—ignorant about all that. But now we’ve become very aware of the wider world and how it views the US.
I mean, it had to take an oversize load of hate to do what they did. We still aren’t sure how many people died that day. It will take a while to sift through all the wreckage. But it’s thousands, including hundreds of the rescue workers who tried to save lives and a bunch of little kids in a daycare center. It’s the saddest thing ever.
What if I lost you? You are the best part of every single day. You entertain me. Make me laugh. Make me learn, because you’re always asking questions I don’t know the answer to. Best of all, you keep me from being lonely.
Your daddy insists I need to go to work, that his paycheck isn’t enough to cover all we need. I don’t think that’s true. We’re doing okay, even if we can’t afford to go out to dinner or buy a bigger TV. And the thought of leaving you with strangers scares me to death.
I probably shouldn’t confess this here, but no one else will listen. When I told Jason I didn’t want to work until you got older, we had the biggest fight ever. He’d been drinking, of course, though that isn’t any kind of excuse for slapping me around.