Perfect Tragedy by Jennifer Miller
1
There are moments in life that define time and space. Moments so significant that suddenly everything else becomes about before it and after it. It’s crazy that when they’re happening, we’re clueless about how momentous the situations will be. Honestly, I’m still not sure which hit harder, my head when it smacked against the ground upon falling from the large sycamore tree in my front yard or the reaction to meeting the dark-haired, green-eyed boy that caused my fall. After that day everything became about before I met Blake and after - the moment truly defining my life, forever.
Thinking back on that day will always make me smile. The excitement, the innocence, the energy. What I wouldn't give to have the same energy I had as a nine-year-old child. I can still see myself running through my yard, grass in need of a mowing tickling my ankles while I’m completely focused on my destination. Sun warms my face and there's a breeze in the air making the wisps of hair that have fallen out of my ponytail stroke my cheeks. I can't help the laugh that bubbles up from within me, the excitement unable to be contained. My brother’s binoculars, taken from his room without permission, bounce against my chest like a drum of doom pounding out the trouble I'm sure to be in when he finds out. But taking them was necessary, important even, I remind myself in a self-justifying way.
When I reach the large sycamore tree at the edge of our property, I begin climbing up the wood planks that are nailed to the trunk creating a makeshift ladder, enthusiastically. The bark scrapes my knees and leaves traces under my fingernails as I climb pulling myself higher until I reach the bottom of the treehouse my dad built. Pushing up the bottom, I pull myself up and inside, quickly closing the hatch. Moving the few steps to the window, I look through the leaves partially obscuring my vision and quickly put the binoculars up to my eyes and peer over at our neighbor's house, squinting when the sun momentarily blinds me and makes me see spots.
Squeezing my eyelids open and closed a few times, I shake my head attempting to make the spots disappear before peering through the binoculars yet again. My eyes move over the tops of the wheat field, the ripening heads of wheat swaying in the wind like they’re dancing to music only they can hear. When my eyes finally find what they’ve been searching for, I view the house next door. A little squeak leaves me when I see what I’ve been waiting for - a moving truck.
When old Mr. Leonard, the previous owner, kicked the bucket, it was all anyone in our small town talked about for days. You would have thought his passing was a scandal for all the attention it caused, rather than just an old man that had no one in his life. Because of that, it took them several days to find him after he died. It didn’t take long before the next topic up for discussion was who would purchase his home when it went up for sale. A pretty yellow house with white shutters on an acre property, it was sure to be a treasure for some lucky family. My favorite thing about the house was the bright red front door that perfectly matched the big barn situated in the back. I also happened to know from personal experience that one of the best tree swings could be found in their back yard. I begged my dad to hang one from our tree, but he said the poor tree already had a house in it; what more did we want.
With a sigh I lower the binoculars from my eyes when I don’t detect any movement around the property and turn to grab one of the folding chairs. Placing it in front of the window I take a seat, my eyes peeled on the house, and think about the day my mom came back from the hair salon, Serenity, after having had a stylish hair cut, with the big news. Mom told dad that her hairstylist, Anna, heard from a client of hers, who heard from the friend of the town’s real estate agent Grady’s cousin, that the house had finally sold. Our attention spiked; Jack and I consumed every word of their conversation. Each day after, we’d hoped to find out the answer to the big question: will there be any kids our age that will finally live next door?
The suspense may very well kill me. My knee bounces up and down and I chew on my nails while placing the binoculars back to my eyes and do another perfunctory sweep of the property. Still nothing. I wonder how long it will take Jack to figure out where I am. Not long I imagine. There’s only a few places he’d need to look. I love my brother, he’s my best friend, but our relationship is fairly one-sided. All we ever do is play whatever he wants to play and do whatever he wants to do. Video games, tag, nerf guns, building a fort, army men, or throwing around a football are some of his favorites. I take pride in the fact that I can do anything a boy can do, if not better (well some things for sure) but sometimes when I’m alone in my room I like to do what Jack calls ‘girly things’. I pretend I’m a princess in a deep sleep waiting for a kiss from her prince. I pretend I’m a ballerina on stage with lights displaying every move I make while an audience watches with bated breath. Other times I’ll turn on some music and have a dance party or put on makeup and my mom’s high heels and pretend I’m a runway model. One time Jack caught me and teased me for days. My cheeks still flush red when I think about it.
Jack and I have spent days making sure we tuned into our parents’ boring conversations for any news about our new neighbors. We’ve spent hours discussing if there would be kids, if they’d be our ages, practicing how we should introduce ourselves, determining the first game we’d play. And then this morning I finally heard the magic words “moving truck.” I immediately ran to Jack’s room and tried to wake him, but he just groaned at me and rolled over. Not willing nor patient enough to wait, I wasted no time grabbing his binoculars and coming here on my own. If you snooze you lose. He’ll be mad for sure, but being able to brag that I knew something he didn’t will be worth it.
It’s as if the thought alone brings him to me. “Sienna!”
Jumping in my seat guiltily, I immediately take the binoculars and hide them under a couple of blankets in the corner.
“Sienna!”
“What?” I lean out the window and look down seeing him standing at the bottom of the tree with his hands on his hips.
“I can’t believe you didn’t wake me!”
“I tried!”
He scoffs.
“I did!” I declare and stomp my foot for emphasis.
“Well you didn’t try very hard then.”
“Did too,” I argue.
He grumbles and I hear him start climbing up the tree to join me. “I knew as soon as I heard mom and dad talking about the new neighbors that I’d find you here.”
“Well duh. What do you want, an award?”
I catch the roll of his eyes as he comes through the hatch. He leaves it open and moves to stand next to my chair.
“Well, do you see anyone or what? Tell me what’s going on.”
“No, I haven’t seen anyone. The truck is there though.”
“Hm, maybe the moving truck got here first and the family will come later or something, but that’s good.”
“Why is that good?”
“Because mom said I had to come get you and we need to go do our chores.”
“What? Now?” I whine.
“Yep, come on, she wasn’t messing around. She had her serious face on.”
I sigh, “But we might miss something.”
“We’ll be fast.”
With one last look of longing next door, I carefully climb down the tree and run across the yard with my brother toward our barn. Our house, unlike the one next door is blue. We also have a large barn behind it, but it’s just a boring ‘ol white one - not at all as fun as red. We run past the large garden our mom and dad have spent hours tending, and then fly past our cherry trees too. Most kids likely hate their chores, but we don’t mind ours because our chores mean taking care of the animals we have on our property. Five horses, two goats, six chickens, two dogs, and one barn cat. She’s pregnant though and mom says it won’t be long and we’ll have a litter of kittens. At least for a while. Mom is already reminding us that we will not be able to keep them all.
Aside from harvesting our wheat field, which is no small feat, we sell the fruit from our trees at the local farmer’s market and sometimes mom will sell vegetables from our garden too. Even with lots of canning we grow more than we could ever consume alone so we add it to our wares for selling. We even have neighbor friends that will come by our house and pick them up because they don’t want to chance them getting sold out at market. Mom and dad give Jack and I money from our sales for our hard work helping and we usually take it and spend it at The Sweet Spot Bakery or the Twisted Sisters Ice Cream Shack.
When it’s time for our wheat to be harvested, sometimes my dad will let me sit on his lap while he drives the combine. It’s awesome watching the large machine reap, thresh and winnow all the wheat. It’s a big job and my favorite is when big trucks come to our property to pick up orders to help ship it out. Dad says it goes all over the United States and we like to spend time guessing and making up stories about where it’s headed after it’s picked up and all the things that it becomes.
In the summer, we also organize horseback riding trail rides and tours which are a big hit with tourists and locals alike. Some couples like to have what they call romantic date nights which is just gross, but mom says it’s the people that come during the summer months for some “country living” that really helps “butter our bread” - whatever that means.
Walking into the barn I head to the bag of chicken feed and scoop some into the tin cup. Walking it to the chicken pen to feed them, I laugh as they come running after hearing the feed hit against the tin cup.
Feeding all the animals takes a little longer that I’d like but I can’t help but visit with them a little while I take care of them. Finished, I’m just about to grab Jack so we can run back to the treehouse to continue our spy mission when I hear our mother calling for us.
Stepping out of the barn, I immediately see her walking toward me. Dressed in jeans and a blue t-shirt, she has her long dark hair pulled out of her face into a braid that hangs over her shoulder. Her doctor’s bag is clutched in her hand, making it clear she’s gotten a call that she needs to answer.
“Sienna,” she says my name again.
“What?” I ask impatiently, my mind already on wondering if the new neighbors have finally showed up yet.
“Manners, Sienna.”
“Sorry,” I mumble apologetically. “I meant to say, yes?”
Her mouth turns up at the corners as if she finds me amusing, “That’s better. I’m on my way to the Fox’s house. Jinxy, their cow, is about to give birth. Do you want to tag along?”
My nose wrinkles at the thought of watching the Fox’s cow give birth. I’ve seen a horror birth show before when one of our own barn cats, Snow White, had a litter of kittens. It’s really not an experience I care to repeat. In fact, I usually think twice about petting her now. Mom, our town’s veterinarian, kept calling it the “miracle of life,” but all I saw was a seriously gross situation I try to force out of my mind whenever I see her.
“No, thank you, mom. Jack and I are going to see what we can find out about our new neighbors,” I admit.
And that was a mistake.
Putting her hands on her hips she gives me a stern warning, “Don’t you two go over there being nosey. Moving is hard and busy enough, they don’t need a couple of kids getting in the way. I already told you that we’ll go over there together at some point, after they get settled a bit, and introduce ourselves, okay?”
“We won’t, mom, I promise. We’re just going to watch. From the treehouse.”
“Fine, but that’s as close as you get.”
“Promise,” I nod.
“Where’s your brother?”
“Here!” Jack yells popping his head out of the barn making it clear he was listening to our whole conversation. “Hi, mom.”
“Did you hear all that?” She’s no fool.
“Yes,” he admits.
“Alright then, stay out of trouble you two. Don’t be a nuisance to your father, either. He has a lot on his plate today, okay?”
“Okay,” we agree in chorus.
“I’ll be back in a little while,” she calls over her shoulder as she walks away.
Jack and I close up the barn and make sure all the animals are fine and then we dash back to the treehouse as soon as we’re finished. Looking up into the branches, I smile, excitement making my stomach flip.
Without a word Jack begins to climb. Once he’s up and inside, I follow, leaving the hatch open. I’ve concocted a plan to vacate quickly once we see their arrival and get first dibs. Jack is clueless. He’s already at the window looking across toward our neighbor’s house. Immediately, I grab the binoculars from their hiding place in my excitement forgetting that I’m going to have some explaining to do. As soon as Jack sees them he does a double take and emits a mixed sound of surprise and annoyance.
“You took those from my room without asking?”
“I told you that I tried to wake you up.”
“That doesn’t mean you can just take things when you want.” He holds out his hand, “Give them to me.”
“Fine,” I sigh reluctantly knowing arguing is futile and not wanting him to stay angry. Jack may only be a year older than I am, but he uses every one of those twelve months to his complete advantage. Plus, the boy can ignore me like it’s an olympic sport; and if they awarded metals, he’d have earned a gold several times. I hate it with a passion.
Even though I aggravated him, he smiles at me once the binoculars are in his hands. The excitement in his eyes matches my own. I smile in return, and watch avidly as he puts them to his eyes and looks over at the house thinking our weeks of curiosity is about to be answered.
Watching his face closely, eager for any sign of news, I look toward the house on my own and squint. Immediately I see that other cars have arrived and I gasp in excitement. “What do you see?”
“Shh,” is his only response.
Frowning, I look back toward the house just in time to see some people walk out of the house and toward the car. I can’t make out any specific details, but they head to the car’s trunk and lean inside.
“Give them to me now, it’s my turn.”
“No. In a minute. I’m not done yet.”
“Come on, Jack. I want to see too.”
“There’s really nothing for you to see. There’s a girl, but she looks like she’s older than me.”
Something in his voice makes me instantly more curious. He’s got a slight smile on his face and I swear the binoculars are going to make his eyeballs pop out the other end because he has them pressed to them incredibly hard.
Even more curious now, I grab hold of the strap and pull. He’s not expecting it and they come flying away from his face and into my hands, “Yes!”
He protests, but I’m too busy devouring the sight before me and it too has captured my interest. A pretty girl with bright pink hair holds a box tight in her hands as she moves from the car’s trunk toward the house. Her ample breasts sit on top of the box she’s holding, practically falling out of her shirt. I may only be ten, but I know exactly what my eleven year-old brother was looking at. He’s in love at first sight. Stupid. I snicker under my breath.
A woman steps out of the house and says something to the girl I had just been watching. She must be her mother. She’s talking and pointing at something inside. Before I can look around to see if there’s anyone else, Jack yanks on the strap trying to take the binoculars from my hands. I should have expected he’d get impatient and want them back, but he manages to surprise me.
“Stop! I’m not finished yet!”
“Give them back.”
“No! Your turn was longer than mine. I’m not done yet.”
“They’re my binoculars,” he pulls them again.
“Don’t be stupid, I’ve had them for less than five minutes!” I yank them hard again, not willing to be bossed around.
“What are you looking at?” An unfamiliar voice asks loudly from below and it completely takes me off guard. It clearly takes Jack by surprise too because he lets go of the strap.
I fall, and I fall just right. Or wrong. Take your pick. I fall perfectly through the open hatch.
Branches scrape against my skin and snag my clothes as I pass by them on my way to the ground.
Sooner than I expect, I land. Hard.
I’m so startled, I simply lay there.
“Shit!” I hear Jack curse and I immediately think how mad my dad would be if he knew. We aren’t allowed to curse, but that leaves my mind instantly as I become aware of three things simultaneously.
One, there’s a trickle of blood running down the side of my face from above my eye.
Two, my head hurts where it bounced off the ground and there’s a sharp pain in my wrist. I think I should be happy I didn’t split my head open, but I’m positive I’m going to have one heck of a headache.
Three, there’s a boy, that’s not Jack, standing over me.
At least, I’m pretty sure he is. Maybe I hit my head harder than I realize. The sun is right at his back and it’s difficult to make out any of his features. Maybe I’m wrong and it isn’t a boy, it’s an angel and I just died falling from this tree.
Panic begins to enter my chest for a brief moment until I hear Jack curse again as he scrambles down the tree. This validates I’m still earth bound because I’m confident there’s no cursing allowed in heaven.
“Are you okay?” The boy asks me.
“I-I-I-don’t-”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He shifts and I can see his face a little more fully now and W-O-W what a face. He must be an angel on earth, because I’m sure I’ve never seen a boy that looks like that.
“Don’t move!” Jack orders as his head joins the other standing over me. “You’re bleeding,” he states the obvious and looks around helplessly. “I need to get something to wipe the blood away and see how bad it is.”
“My wrist hurts,” I croak and turn my head to see my brother pick leaves from the tree. Scrunching my nose at him I prepare to tell him that’s not going to work, but before I can, the boy who is still standing over me pulls a cloth from his pocket. Bending down, he gently presses it to the cut at my brow.
“Does it hurt very bad?”
“No,” I lie not wanting to sound like a sissy.
“Oh, thank you,” Jack says to the boy noticing his help. Kneeling down he pulls the cloth away from the cut and frowns. “I think you may need stitches.”
“Mom’s going to be mad,” I tell him.
“Who are you?” Jack asks looking at the boy.
He answers Jack, but doesn’t take his eyes from me. “I’m Blake. I’m moving in next door,” he points in the direction of his house as if we don’t know where he’s referring. “We were told that kids my age lived next door and so I walked over to see if you were outside.” He pauses and then finally breaks eye contact with me and looks at Jack, “Were you…” he looks at the binoculars now on the ground. “Spying on us?”
I feel my face flush, but Jack simply shrugs unembarrassed, “We were curious about who was moving in. Unlike you, we weren’t told if there were any kids, let alone one our age.”
“Can I help you up?” Blake asks me.
“She’s okay, aren’t you Sienna?”
Blake ignores Jack and reaches down to me anyway. When he takes my hand, it hurts my wrist and I hiss in pain. He immediately pulls away and reaches for my other hand instead. “I think you hurt your wrist too,” he says.
Biting my lip, I feel very aware of his hand in mine. My body aches and feels incredibly sore. He holds onto my arms and makes sure I’m steady before letting go. Looking up, I finally get an even better look at Blake.
Dark hair so thick it looks like a helmet, green eyes like the grass he stands on shaded with dark lashes. A dusting of freckles that tells me he enjoys long hours outdoors cover his nose and cheeks.
“Thank you,” I finally manage and he smiles at me.
That smile. It lights up his whole face and makes my tummy flip in a way I don’t quite understand.
“So, you guys are moving in today, huh?” Jack asks the obvious, completely forgetting about me at the moment. It takes Blake’s attention away from me which makes me frown.
“We are.”
“I saw a girl too, that your sister?”
“Yes, my older sister, Mandy. It’s just the two of us and our parents.”
“Same here. Just me, Sienna and our parents. How old are you?”
“Almost twelve.”
“Me too,” Jack says excitedly. “Hey, do you like to play video games?”
“They’re my favorite, I play them all the time. Why? Do you? What’s your favorite game?”
I tune them out, the pain from my fall becoming more apparent by the minute. “Jack?” I say but he ignores me, too distracted by his new friend.
“Do you want to go play?” Jack asks with excitement.
“Sure,” Blake replies but then his eyes catch mine.
“Awesome, let’s go!” Jack says and takes a few steps toward our house.
Blake starts to follow then stops suddenly. “Oh, wait. We need to get your sister home and looked at. She’s hurt.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Thanks for remembering,” I roll my eyes.
“Do you need help, Sienna, or are you fine?” His tone makes it clear that he wants my answer to be ‘fine’.
“Help would be nice,” I reply and feel a flip in my stomach again when Blake smiles at me once more, but it fades when Jack sighs. I tune him out because Blake has taken my arm and walks with me all the way back to the house making sure to take it slow.
“Mom and dad are going to kill me when they get a look at you,” Jack says.
“No they aren’t. This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten hurt from fooling around. And you aren’t to blame.”
“You aren’t going to tell them it was my fault?”
I look at him like he’s crazy, “Do I ever? We don’t rat.”
He looks relieved.
When we get to the house, I thank Blake softly under my breath and get a nod and smile in return. When we walk inside, Jack starts yelling for our parents and I watch as Blake takes in his surroundings, his eyes roving around our house in every direction.
My mom, who must have returned, comes into the kitchen where we stand and immediately removes the cloth I’ve been holding at my brow. She starts muttering about crazy kids and stitches. I barely pay her any attention because I’m already thinking about getting to know Blake better. I feel excited about our new neighbor.
I may have been hoping for a young girl my age to be friends with, but something tells me this will be even better.
I had no idea then that I’d end up having a love/hate relationship with that dark haired green-eyed boy, and that he would break my heart over and over again.