(Price: unedited)

“Hey. Hey! Hey, mister!”

Price spun around with a jolt, lurching to the side as a projectile whirled towards him, narrowly missing his head. He watched the basketball land at the bottom of the hoop, and roll quietly into the bleachers. “What the –”

“Sorry. You shoulda been looking, bro.” One of the middle school boys from the recreational basketball team, which had currently besieged the gym with sweat and shouting, smirked at him. Obviously a coaching kid, he had two swerving lines of acne down his face, and a confident swing to his walk as he ducked around Price to retrieve the ball.

Price shook his head. “Sorry.” He muttered. Thoughts occupied, he had been looking for Jewel, a small head of platinum curls that had been swallowed up by the runners on the track above the gym. His eyes scanned the mass of bobbing heads. It was so easy to lose track of his little sister these days. She seemed to disappear, fade into the woodwork. After their talk the other day, he thought that some progress, at least, had been made. She had been smiling, talking, laughing when he left her. But the next morning…silence. Again. Another glass shattered, another glimmer of happiness lost.

He just couldn’t understand where, time and time again, he was failing her.

Tonight was supposed to be a treat. Getting out of the house, from underneath Lily’s tired gaze. He had left Jewel for one moment at the entrance of the track, and now she was gone. Desperate, he had wandered down to the basketball court. The only thing that greeted him was a long line of skinny kids, tossing basketballs back and forth, screaming good natured profanities when they missed a shot.

“Price.” When he looked up, it was Jewel. She clung to the railing above, mouth straining to say his name.

“Kid!” He rushed out of the gym, up the flight of stairs, and onto the looping indoor track. Jewel scurried towards him, eyes huge.

“Lost.” She started to cry. “Lost.”

“Yeah, you almost were, kiddo. Don’t do that again. Okay?”

She was shaking her head. One little hand reached towards him and grasped the leg of his sweatpants. “Ariel.” She whispered. “Ariel.”

Price frowned. What did Ariel have to do with being lost? Unless, of course, Jewel was on another one of her “disappearing” rants. Then he saw it – a head of black hair, cutting into a sharp, white chin. Skin and bones encased in yoga pants. She was running the opposite direction, rounding the far corner of the track, gaze focused on her feet. Her pace seemed to slow as she drew nearer to him. Was she afraid?

Of me. That had to be why, when she jogged up to him, she jogged past him. It was as if she didn’t even see him, or his sister. Jewel started to cry again, great, gulping sobs.

“Ariel. Ariel.” She wrapped both hands around Price’s leg, pulling herself towards him. Her breath was heavy and warm on his calf. Tears soaked through his pants.

His heart rate increased. Why was she ignoring them? Afraid. Jewel’s words echoed around in his brain. Had Charliegh told her? Was this it, then – the only hope for his little sister, stolen by his selfish actions? Gathering his pride, he set his jaw. “Stay here, kid.”

“Kay.” Jewel didn’t protest as he pulled her back, setting her against the wall.

“Right here. Understand?”

“Kay. Help.” She said.

“I guess so.” Price looked up to find Ariel rounding the loop again, starting down a straight stretch on the other side. He jogged in the opposite direction of the track lines, bumping into runners. Ariel didn’t see him until he was right in front of her. She was unusually pale – even for her, she was pale. Her cheeks were blotchy, and her teeth had bitten so harshly into her lower lip that blood dotted her chin.

“Ariel.” He grabbed her upper arms before they collided. Her chest was heaving, something like tears in the corners of her eyes. She was cold, so cold, when he touched her.

She tried to pull away. Fear was stark in her expression as she stared up at him. He felt a twinge of pain. Was this how she viewed him, now? Akin to a monster. And little wonder, considering the bloom of bruises upon Charliegh’s face. She might be upset for some smaller, vague reason, but he wasn’t kidding himself. If she knew Charliegh, she knew about the beating. C was someone who couldn’t ever manage to keep her mouth shut. Everyone had to know, everything had to be revealed.

Well. Before That Day. Come to think of it, he really didn’t know what kind of girl she was now. Maybe she was different. Was he?

Unlikely.

“Please let go, Price.” She said. Her tone was stiff; she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey.” He shook her shoulders, grip tightening. He almost felt remorse, witnessing the naked panic flashing in her eyes. A bruise, no doubt, was being formed underneath his fingertips. Bruise after bruise, wound after wound, until the depth of his wrongdoing buried him alive.

“Jewel was worried.” He said. “Did you avoid her on purpose?”

“I helped her.” Ariel found a new point of interest – the tips of her shoes. She was staring avidly at her beat-up sneakers, chewing her stained lip. “You were gone.”

Was the accusation in her voice? Price’s grip tightened. Anger coursed through him. How dare she, insinuating that he was shirking with his own sister. Maybe he was a terrible person. But Jewel, Jewel was the center of his small world. How could anyone think that he would neglect her?

“She disappeared.”

Ariel bit down harder on her lip, as if she was weighing her words before she said them. Fresh blood seeped over her chin. “Because you weren’t watching.”

“She wandered away!” Price dropped his hands. If he kept holding her arms, they would probably snap. He had felt the brittle pressure of her bones, threatening to jut straight through her skin.

Ariel rubbed her arms. She was staring past him now, towards the far wall. Jewel. “She’s okay.” Her voice was quiet, as if she had known what he was thinking. “Still standing there.”

“Why did you avoid her?”

“I didn’t.” She wasn’t saying it directly, but Price had a feeling that she meant, it was her I was avoiding. It was you. Disgusting by himself, by her, he took a long step back.

“Thanks.” He said shortly. “I wouldn’t have…”

“Yeah, you would’ve.” Ariel tipped her head, eyes luminous as they finally met his own. They were dark, just as dark as his own. Her pupils were huge, brown almost swallowed by the seeping amount of black.

He should have left. He should have walked right back to Jewel, bundled her in the car, and driven far, far away. But instead he found himself captivated by her eyes, the sheer vulnerability in them. She looked empty. Starving. Drained.

“Hey.” The softness of his voice surprised him. “We were going out after this, for hamburgers or something. You wanna come?”

She should have said no. Fled. But instead, surprising him again, she said yes. “I don’t have to be home until ten.” They drove down to the café, where Lily was wiping down the front counter. Price could see Atticus, curled into a highchair beside her. She regarded Ariel with a lackluster smile.

“Is this a friend?”

“She helps Jewel. In church.” Price shot her a meaningful returning smile over the counter. Please be nice. Please be silent. He wondered what his mother thought of Ariel. What she saw, when she looked at the skinny, nearly emaciated girl that had slipped so quietly into Jewel’s universe.

“Lovely. You must be the name.” Scrawled across my car window. Price winced at the reminder. After Jewel’s little drawing, when the frost had melted, he had discovered smudgy streaks upon the window. Despite his best efforts, they remained imprinted upon the glass.

Ariel gave his mother a slight, confused smile. “That would be me.”

“Three hamburgers.” Price said quickly. “Three cokes.”

Lily drew her order pad slowly out of her front pocket. Her posture, her tucked chin, screamed explanations. She packed another bright, transparent smile at Ariel before taking the order to the kitchen. “That’ll be right up. On the house.”

As they ate, he discovered quickly why Ariel was so slight. The thing was, she didn’t actually eat. She divided her hamburger into squares. Mashed it with her fork. Separated a miniscule crumb of bread and raised it to her mouth like it was a snake, ready to sink its fangs into her thin lips. After two bites of a similar size, a sip of water between each, she set down her fork.

“Finished already?” Price honed in on her from behind the rim of his glass. He took a drink, eyes never leaving hers. The panic had returned to her face, with a twinge of something else. Anger? Fear?

“I…I’m not very hungry.” She let her fork drop onto her plate, and pushed it away from her. It was as if she was withdrawing temptation, strategically keeping it at arm’s length.

Lily, who was watching them amidst bouncing Atticus on her lip, leaned towards them. “You’re so thin. Here, eat a little more, and I’ll get you some pie. Peanut Butter. Sound good?”

“Best in the world.” Price informed Ariel. “You ever had Peanut Butter pie here?”

Ariel ducked her head. One arm reached forward to pick up her fork. But instead of taking another piece of food, she twisted the metal along her plate, making swirls in the rejected pile of mustard. “I don’t eat out much.” She murmured, over the faint scraping noise.

Price and his mother exchanged a look. “Well,” he said, “it’s amazing.”

Ariel was oddly quiet throughout the rest of dinner, watching them eat. She made a yellow face upon the white porcelain plate, complete with golden curls. Jewel beamed with delight when she realized that it was her, and she threw her arms around Ariel’s neck.

“Talent!” She said proudly. “Talent, mommy.”

Lily handed them each a small plate with a slice of pie. “Beautiful. Mustard portraits.” She arched one eyebrow, amused. “Who would have thought?”

Ariel pulled her fork back, sending a curved ripple through one yellow eye. “Thanks.” She said shortly. She stared at the pie, eyes huge. Petrified. It was just a slice of pie – small, unassuming. The smell of peanut butter sank into the air around them.

Price took a bite of his slice. “Allergies?”

“What?” Ariel’s gaze jerked up to his, then back down to the plate. “Oh. No.” Fingers rigid, she wiped her fork on a napkin and sank the metal prongs into the creamy surface of the pie. She cut a crumb off the corner, brought it to her mouth, let it sit on her tongue. She was tasting the best Peanut Butter pie in town, and she looked like she was swallowing a baseball.

Price couldn’t stand her apparent misery. He couldn’t understand it, either. Was something wrong with her? After paying the bill and wishing his mother good night, he walked out behind her. One thin arm was curled around his little sister, each bone in her wrist standing out starkly against the snow white of her skin. Moving seemed to pain her, he noticed. When he opened the car door for her, her collarbone jutted up sharply as she tucked herself into the passenger seat. He felt a wave of nausea. This wasn’t right. No one normal looked like this, acted like this.

He couldn’t get her face out of his head, right before she had taken a bite. She had bleed Regret, Remorse, Penance. Maybe this was her way of coping with her cousin’s death. Maybe it was something else. Either way, Price felt a fierce, protective spark light in his chest. He surprised himself – this feeling, as he watched her, was nothing new. He had experienced crushes before. Girls had spent years giggling over him, before they all grew up and discovered the truth about each other. That he was an angry, short-tempered freak.

This was kind of, slightly, was a crush felt like. Exhilarating. And then like something else, something deeper. It nagged at him as he opened the door again, as she slid out of his car and past him, every bone silhouetted by moonlight.

“Thanks for dinner.” She said softly. A cottage – her aunt’s, probably – loomed behind her, white strips slanting upon the flaking shingles. A picture of Randall was mounted on the mailbox at the end of the driveway. The night, the girl, the house, the forlorn picture, told Price that the family was permanently fixated upon grieving. So this was how she lived. Surrounded by this, suffocated by these memories. The spark flared inside of him again, and Price fought the strange, random urge to hold her. He just wanted to see what she felt like, slender body against his. Would each bone be as sharp as it looked?

“Yeah.” He said abruptly, trying to push his thoughts to the back of his mind. “No problem. Look, Ariel?”

She had been turning to leave. At the sound of his voice, she stopped still. He was acutely aware of the fact that Jewel was asleep, sprawled over the backseat of his car. Her aunt was asleep. They seemed to be alone, the sole inhabitants of a silent world with a velvet sky.   

“Yes?”

“Umm…” The words froze on his tongue. He wasn’t sure what he had been about to say. A sentence of consolation? Of warning? He shook his head in disgust. He felt so vulnerable, with that spark in his chest, that luminous gaze held captive by his own. “Have a good night.” He said.

Ariel hunched her shoulders and gave him a little half-smile. It looked so much like Randall’s that Price caught his breath. Tiny, crooked, darkly amused. Perhaps, ensconced by the life of her cousin, she was turning into a person similar. “Good night, Price.”

“Night.” He stood, waiting until she disappeared behind the narrow door to the cottage. He tipped his head back and stared at the sky. A nice night to be so confused. This was probably the kind of night that his father had viewed, before he ran away to California. Had he been as confused as Price was right now? Torn between right, wrong, and ignorance?

His father was incredibly selfish to have left a family – to have left three kids, two of them almost too young to remember him. Price wondered what Jewel would know when she grew up. Would she remember a balding man, hunched over her crib with a mobile? His laugh, loud and grating? And if she didn’t…what would he tell her, what good could he possibly tell her, of a man who committed adultery, heartbreak, and homicide, all in one fell swoop?

His fingers dug into his palms. A familiar, aching routine of anger and restraint, pain and release. He could feel the blood, buried underneath his nails. Stains. Black stains. Too deep to cleanse, too wonderful to rid himself of, too terrible to share with anyone.

The drive back to his house was hurried. Almost frantic. If he didn’t return Jewel home, before he snapped, if he snapped, he didn’t know if she would reach home at all. Lily was waiting on the steps. A white shirt, flattened by the wind, danced around her torso. It was a sight so startlingly similar to that of Jewel’s, on a night not too long ago, that the breath left his lungs.

He couldn’t move. He just sat, paralyzed, as his mother drifted down the steps and yanked open the back door of the car.

“Oh, she’s sleeping.” She said softly. “Help me lift her out, please.”

He slid out of the car, opened Jewel’s door, and lifted her out. She felt light, insubstantial in his arms. Was this how Ariel felt? Like air, trapped in the space between his arms and his heart?

He wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t. Yet as he carried Jewel up to her room and laid her into bed, he couldn’t banish it from his mind. He wanted to hold her. She was ill, she was disgustingly thin, she was a bag of bones with the quiet, reserved grace that came across as haughty, rather than shy.

Price swore under his breath. I want to hold her? Pathetic. But not, as it seemed, an impossible thought. He pulled the car into the garage and hid the keys in one of the torn backseat cushions. If he didn’t force himself upstairs, then he would become just another Redemption child, a wanderer, haunting the streets, trying to find answers in a town that had nothing but empty space to offer.

***

It was snowing.

Price tried not to laugh. This was irony, horrible irony. It had been snowing on That Day, too, when Earnest disappeared. When Randall died. When Ariel had been fated to come, to live, to meet him. My sister. He reminded himself. To meet my sister.

It was Jewel that had brought them to this park today, under cover of swirling snowflakes and noisy children. She couldn’t seem to drop this idea that Ariel was going to leave. It terrified her. Price had found her huddled in a forlorn golden heap outside his door that morning, tear marks on her face, staring up at the doorknob. Waiting for him to emerge.

“Kiddo.” He had said, reaching down to pull her off the floor. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Jewel had shaken her head. Her shredded blanket – a childhood trinket – slipped over her shoulders and puddled at her feet. “Ariel.” She said, sniffling. “Leave.”

“She didn’t leave.” Hopefully. Price put on his best patient face, and stooped down to eye level. “Listen, kid. Ariel didn’t leave you. Okay? She’s not going to leave.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.” He confirmed. “Was that why you slept outside my door?”

“Wake you. Didn’t want.” Since the dinner, Jewel had been talking more and more. It started with words and had graduated to short, choppy sentences like this. Price tried to keep his patience going and his anger in check.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

“Left. Ariel left.” Jewel crumpled onto the floor, blanket tangling around her legs. Her head and shoulders rested on the wall, hair smearing up all around her head. The prospect of Ariel leaving, if only in a dream, clearly terrified her. She had started to cry. Great, gulping sobs that Price just knew were going to wake Atticus. Then he would have two crying children on his hands. Again.

He sat down beside her and slung his arm over her shoulders. She curled her tiny body into his, sniffling. “She won’t leave.” He said. “I promise.”

“Kay.” Jewel’s voice was muffled by his shirt. She let out another ragged, sobbing breath. “Can she come to the park with us?”

“Sure, kid. Whatever you want.” They had been planning on going to the park that afternoon to get out of the house as the snow piled up on the windowsills. While it was doubtful that Ariel would actually come, Price called to ask anyway. He tried to tell himself that the reason she said yes was Jewel. Jewel. Not me. Jewel. Still, he couldn’t quench the irritating spark that flared to life in his chest again.

Right now Ariel and Jewel were running through the snow on the far side of the parking lot, next to the swing set. Hat askew, coat and sweatshirt bundled tightly around her thin form, Ariel looked so cold that her lips were practically blue. Price was tempted to march over and hand her his own jacket, thick and lined with wool, but he kept it around him, watching them play from a distance. The wood of the playground was hard and uncomfortable beneath him. Few people had come out to the park due to the weather, and so he took up the top half of the miniature castle, legs and threadbare, scuffed boots stretched out before him.

The thermos in his hands was doing little to warm him. Jewel had insisted upon bringing hot chocolate, so he had taken an extra cup of coffee along for himself. Did Ariel like coffee? He glanced over to where they were standing. Ariel was standing, actually – Jewel was lying on the ground, arms and legs pushing snow in all directions, making a snow angel.

He took a moment to observe Ariel. She had pushed most of her hair underneath a grey beanie, exposing her face. She was all angles – square jaw, arching eyebrows. Pretty when she smiled. She was smiling now, cheeks flushed red with cold. She bent down next to Jewel and started making her own snow angel. It was kind of beautiful, the two of them together. Price took a long, careful sip of his coffee, trying to clear his head. Jewel would have been better off with a sister. Not a brother who hit people, who backed and ran away from his problems. He glared at the thermos in disgust. Weak. He was weak. No wonder his little sister loved a stranger, albeit one who couldn’t eat, more than she seemed to care for him.

“Price, price, price!” Jewel was bouncing around a foot below him, grinning so wide that he could see the pink flush of her gums. “We made angels!”

She was talking. Full sentences, at that. It had been three words, but still. A full, clear sentence. Price tried not to break into a returning smile of amazement. He didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of Ariel. “Awesome. Aren’t you cold?”

“Not really.” Jewel said, at the same time that Ariel said, “Yes.”

Price climbed down from the playground, rolling his shoulders when he reached the ground. His limbs were stiff, numb with chill. The cold he felt was nothing compared to Ariel – her whole body was shaking like a leaf, skin deathly white. Paler than usual. Even the red glow had begun to fade from her cheeks, replaced by a frozen tint of purple.

“You seem freezing.” He said, as they started back towards the entrance of the park.

“You seem victorious.” Ariel muttered. She zipped the top of her coat up as high as it could go. Her fingers were shaking. He was seized by an odd sympathy.

“What?”

“Taking me here, letting me entertain your sister.” She said it without a smile, but amusement danced in her eyes. “Grateful for a few free minutes?” It was as if she knew – how busy he had been, how draining it was to care for his younger siblings. Obviously, since the last hit, Charliegh had stopped babysitting Atticus, and Lily’s holiday hours at work meant that he was practically reduced to a dad.

“Sorry.” He kicked a chunk of snow and watched its sluggish descent down the parking lot. Wind whipped through them, sending the snow from a solid white mass to flying particles of silver glitter that stung their cheeks.

“I don’t mind. I love your sister.”

Love seemed like a strong word. “She can be a brat sometimes.”

“Can’t they all?” Ariel laughed. It was dry, almost lackluster. “I work with the kids at church. Well.” Her cheeks turned red. Color, if only for a moment. “You probably know that.”

“Yeah.” He knew, all right. The day at church was the day that Jewel had met her idol. Unbeknownst to her, he had seen her working a few times before. She had always been hunched away from the window, but close enough to make out her features. It was clear that she loved the children. He wondered if Jewel was just another face, to her. A cute kid among many. Yet how could she be, if she was the child who was mute? Not many others refused to talk.

“Anyway,” Ariel continued, “some of them throw pretty great fits.”

Price held back his laugh. “Anything serious?”  

“No. Usually just some tears over second Oreos.”

“Makes sense. Why do you even give them food? Isn’t that a recipe for fits?”

Ariel considered this. Up close, he could see the veins in her hands and neck, throbbing blue, glowing through the transparency of her skin. “Bribery.”

He couldn’t help it; he laughed. When was the last time he had done such a thing, and been genuine about it? “Great plan of attack.”

“The best. Who doesn’t love Oreos?” It was spoken so casually that Price paused, waiting a moment before responding.

“You?”

This time, her laugh was definitely forced. She had this nervous expression on her face, like she was ready to flee. “Sure.”

He was ready to say, it didn’t seem that way last night, but he held his tongue. She had been warming up to him, allowing cracks in her icy exterior. And already, with a hurried thought, the doors behind her eyes had begun to slam closed again.

 “You and Jewel have a lot in common.” He said finally.

“Oh, yes.” Ariel said. “Lots.”

Coming from anyone else, it would have been insincere. A flippant kind of comment that girls made, when they were trying too hard to be funny. But Price had the sinking feeling that she was serious. Maybe this was her way of telling him that something was wrong. Jewel and I have lots in common. More, probably, than he knew. Did he want to know?

They fell into unsteady conversation throughout the rest of the day. Price felt like he was skating on thin ice, which could crack upon the slightest provocation. With a simple misstep, Ariel had withdrawn herself from him. So it was food. Food was her trigger, her fear. That was the real reason she was so thin.

Eating. She had a problem with eating.

Price had heard about that kind of thing – how girls wanted to be thin so badly that they starved themselves. He wasn’t sure how they ended up. What happened, after a long time of continued starvation? Did they slip, quietly, from social circles? From life itself?

Ariel had become too important of a figure to his little sister to slip from her life. She wasn’t important to him – not yet. But he had a sinking feeling that with each event that brought the two closer, he would be drawn in as well. That spark in his chest would become an anchor, dragging him into Ariel’s life with the force of a sandstorm.

Whatever happened to girls who stopped eating, it couldn’t be a good thing.

And Price wasn’t sure that he would be able to keep himself from caring. Even the anger could not protect him. He clenched his hands into fists. No. It could. It would.

It had to.

***