Rapid Falls(41)

Dear Mom and Dad:

I am so, so sorry for what I have done to you. I don’t remember anything about that night, but I know in my heart that I made the wrong decision. I was supposed to drive them home and I drove them off a bridge. I’m sorry—

The last sentence had been pressed into the paper so hard that I could feel the outline of the letters. The letter had never been finished.

The counselor is still talking. “So let’s read about the scapegoat.”

I turn pages robotically and stare at the words without comprehension. Anna was so pale in her black sweater, sitting behind that big oak table for her arraignment in the courtroom so many years ago. Her hair was so shiny it distracted me. I almost didn’t hear the judge’s words.

“The scapegoat is often blamed for difficult things happening in a family. Others in the family begin to assign blame to the scapegoat and clear themselves of any guilt associated with events. Does that sound like your family pattern?”

An involuntary bark comes out of my mouth, a cross between a laugh and a refusal. It releases something. I shake my head quickly, like a dog trying to dry itself off after an unexpected splash of water.

“I know it’s hard to look closely at family roles.” She nods knowingly. I am angry at her assumptions about the origin of these feelings—and my weakness in showing them to her.

“This gives me a lot to think about,” I manage to say, hoping she finishes. Memories flood my mind. Her body was stiff when I pulled it from the driver’s seat. I banged her head hard against the window frame as I clawed her out. Everyone thinks I saved her because I loved her. Not because I couldn’t bear to let her sink without her realizing what had happened. What she had done. Anna was no scapegoat. She was responsible for it all.

“What are you feeling right now?” Her voice jerks me back to reality. I need to regain control again. I shut out the questions and instead look at the clock hung in the middle of the juvenile drawings, willing it to move faster.

“I feel . . .”

The sketches distract me before I can reassure her that I’ve been healed by this session. One piece I hadn’t noticed before catches my eye, and I lean forward to see it. She nods, encouraging me to continue, but I can’t stop staring at the drawing. It’s bleaker than the others, and the thick strokes are mesmerizing. The whole page is filled with black lines, circling each other, like a hellish whirlpool. I know immediately that it’s Anna’s. Something bubbles out of me before I realize I’m speaking.

“She’s not a scapegoat. It was her fault,” I say sharply. My face feels fevered with anger, but the woman smiles as if I’ve had a breakthrough.

“We all feel that way when we are dealing with an addict. Addicts make choices. Our family roles only influence them. Remember, the addiction comes first, always. It’s no one’s fault.”

My unintended words have shaken me, but I nod as if her trite words have reassured me.

She looks up at the clock. “Okay, let’s end it there.”

I stand and walk at a fast clip through the dingy waiting room. The parking lot is nearly empty, and the darkness makes everything look cleaner than it is. That woman was wrong. It is Anna’s fault that she is the way she is, but it is mine too. She’s my sister. I knew her better than anyone else in the world; I knew her inside and out. I have seen her in so many different situations; I knew just how she would react. I had to do what I did. For Jesse.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN

March 1997

Jesse draped his graduation jacket around my shoulders, and I smiled gratefully. The wind was blowing hard off the pools at the bottom of the diving rocks, and the chill was no match for the flimsy sweater I was wearing. Ross and Anna were down at the edge of the water, throwing stones. I was glad they were giving us a little space. Jesse passed me a joint, and I took a quick hit before I spoke.

“Did I tell you my parents are going to Anna’s meet instead of our graduation lunch?”

“Huh?” Jesse replied.

“Is your mom going? Don’t you think it’s a bigger deal than a track meet?”

“I don’t know,” he said, sounding bored.

Jesse’s lack of reaction felt like a match scratching on flint.

“Do you not get why I would be mad?”

“Not really, Cara. Who cares? I didn’t even know there was a graduation lunch.”

“I care, Jesse.”

“Cara, the lunch is not a big deal. Anna can qualify for the state championship at this meet.”

I let out a breath in frustration. “You don’t understand. You’re an only child.”

“Okay, whatever.” His face changed, and I could tell he wasn’t thinking about my parents anymore. He slid his leg beside mine and gently rubbed the inside of my thigh. He pressed his mouth to mine, and I breathed him in. His mouth was warm in the cold air. I forgave him for not understanding how unfair it was that my parents had chosen Anna, again, over me.

“Guys!” I heard Wade calling. “I just found a dog.”

Jesse and I walked toward the sound of Wade’s voice. We found him standing with Anna and Ross. In his arms was a small patch of golden fluff.

“She’s just skin and bones. Poor little thing.”

“Where did you find it?” Jesse reached out to touch the small pup, and she whimpered.