The Other Sister

This is how she heard her sister is dead.

She had just put her son to bed, after nearly a quarter of an hour of coaxing and coddling until he was satisfied that it was, indeed, the end of that mystical holiday all children hold in high regard: Halloween. She made sure her husband was settled comfortably in the living room with his bottle of ale, in silent communion with the revelers on the television screen.

She wafted to the front hall, and reached out through the open door to remove the single, uninspired jack-o-lantern from the stoop. Blowing the candle out, she tucked it in one arm and whisked up the nearly empty basket of sweets with her free hand. Their candy always lasted longer than the neighbors' because they only gave one piece to each trick-or-treater, but already her son was active enough to start reaching for it himself and attempting to bring it down to where he could plunder it alone in unsupervised glory.

In the kitchen, she set the basket on a high counter from which she could supervise the distribution of the confections, should it come to that. Then, she gently and primly placed the hollow pumpkin outside the back kitchen door, where it wouldn't be knocked over should someone pass through. At least it was out of the street for the night, and none of the neighborhood boys could smash it. She bustled back and flipped the small switch in the hall that operated the post lamp out front; no more costumed visitors for another year.

The voice of the commentator on the parade broadcast drifted from the living room, but this didn't bother her too much. She let it wash over her as she fixed a cup of tea; when the water was ready, she poured it in, counted the seconds before she removed the bag. Two dollops of cream, no sugar. Just the same as aways. She nibbled delicately on a sugar cookie and stared out the window over the sink as she inhaled the fragrance of the tea.

She had never liked Halloween much anyway, at least not since she was sixteen. It always came down to this, after that point. The tea, the cookie, the solitude. Albeit, some years any or all of those things in conjunction had been a little harder to procure, but she did so nonetheless. They made room in her mind for the recollections that would come, no matter what she did.

She remembered being five, and her mother holding the new one. Her little sister, with the pretty green eyes. She had a sister, and she would give her everything. She would stay up nights with her sister, and they would talk girl-talk, and share records, and have secret jokes. She didn't have a lot of friends, but she knew that having a sister would make it all better. You didn't need a lot of friends when you had a sister. A sister was always your friend. She knew this because some of the friends she did have had brothers, and the brothers always pulled their hair and made faces at them and did disgusting things to make them run away. Those she knew who had sisters always knew what to wear because someone was helping them; they always knew what to say because someone had talked to them; they always made the right friends because their sisters showed them the right girls to be friends with. She had a little sister now, and she would be the best big sister in the world for her. Her little sister would never be alone; she would never need anyone else to talk to. Her Little Sister would always be perfect, and the Big Sister would always be loved for making her that way.

For eleven years, they grew up that way. Little Sister always managed to do something that surprised Big Sister if Big Sister was too concerned with Little Sister fitting in; sometimes, Little Sister would say something that made Big Sister very nervous for her in the two seconds it took before everyone remarkably started to laugh; sometimes, Little Sister wore an outfit strictly forbidden by Big Sister and was received with many wide eyes and compliments. Sometimes, Little Sister broke the rules a little bit, and although this made Big Sister embarrassed and a little envious, so she had to scold her lightly, Little Sister always had an explanation so by the end of the Telling To The Parents, Big Sister knelt down and hugged Little Sister and whispered a little "I'm sorry".

Sometimes, Little Sister did things that Big Sister didn't even know were possible.

That was why, when Little Sister turned eleven and Big Sister was sixteen, Little Sister got The Letter. The Letter was on funny paper, though Big Sister and Little Sister both knew girls who liked to write on fancy stationary; but the funny paper had funny, scrolly writing on it and a big, antiquated seal, and a List. The Parents were ecstatic and no one could wait until they could all go out and collect the Items, and especially couldn't wait for when they'd get to see Little Sister's strange Items laid out again on the kitchen table, purchased, in pretty, multi-colored rows, to Oooh and Aaah over. Big Sister couldn't come to the place where they collected the Items, and she was upset over this, but she and her girlfriends went out to ice cream that day instead, and flirted with boys, but not too much, lest onlookers get the wrong impression. She bought a magazine and spent the rest of the afternoon reading it in the garden out back, but though she had just eaten her favorite sundae, though Vernon from down the street shoved another boy just for making a jeer about her bony face, even though the sun was warm and the rosebush beside her was softly fragrant, she didn't feel at all content.

It was a little niggling feeling, the Left Behind-ness. It started off making her feel a little sad, but she didn't like that sort of sad. So, the Left Behind-ness plied another method, trickling in and overfilling the dams of old, forgotten resentments. The more she tried not to think about how much fun Mother and Daddy and Little Sister were having, the more fantasies of laughter and brightly colored shop adventures and new people kept rising in her mind.

Worst of all were the thoughts of Mother and Daddy loving Little Sister when they'd left Big Sister behind.

Big Sister Oooh-ed and Aaah-ed at the bright Items once they were laid out. Big Sister came to the train station and hugged Little Sister good-bye and told her to stay out of trouble and stay away from naughty boys like the type she'd already warned her about and to stay in touch. Her eyes prickled in a funny unexpected way, and she didn't want to let Little Sister go, because she felt vaguely that even though Little Sister being home and being more special than Big Sister was bad enough, Little Sister being far away and Big Sister seeing how Little Sister left a hole at the dinner table would be worse.

But it was too late. Little Sister was gone, and Big Sister couldn't follow her.

Little Sister kept her promise and stayed in touch. It made Big Sister feel better to know that Little Sister still loved her, even though Big Sister wasn't as special. Little Sister wrote that Big Sister was special, and that Big Sister had to be special for looking out after Little Sister so well.

Her Little Sister would always be perfect, and the Big Sister would always be loved for making her that way.

Little Sister kept her promise and stayed away from naughty boys, especially four naughty boys she met in the train. Big Sister veritably swelled with pride when she read about how Little Sister had told off the Naughty Boys for pinching each-other and tripping a boy and acting mad to impress her; she was overjoyed when she read that Little Sister had made girlfriends, and that together they gave the four Naughty Boys the disapproving Cold Shoulder.

Even though Vernon from down the street shoved another boy just for making a jeer about her bony face, she didn't feel at all content.

Little Sister kept her promise and stayed out of trouble. Little Sister had lots of stories to tell about the scarier teachers and the ghosts who spooked students who wandered too far from class and a forest that was forbidden and the prefects who told cautionary tales about disastrous detentions. She told stories about common rooms and big warm beds and a great hall with never-ending food. Little Sister even told about stopping a food fight by magicking all the food to fly back to those who had thrown it.

Sometimes, Little Sister broke the rules a little bit, and although this made Big Sister embarrassed and a little envious, Little Sister always had an explanation.

Even better were Little Sister's descriptions of the holidays. The first one was, of course, All Hallows Eve. Big Sister thought about Little Sister's last letter as she picked up the limp streamers and discarded cardboard hats from her own party the night before. Somehow, it didn't feel like her Halloween parties would ever quite be as fun again. When Little Sister was away at better parties in better places than Big Sister could ever even imagine, holidays became mechanical rituals. If Little Sister was home, Big Sister might have felt better about it.

One by one, over the years, Little Sister broke her promises.

First, Little Sister earned a detention. She had been studying with one of the boys from the train last year--a boy whom she reassured Big Sister was in no way as naughty as the other three, and therefore was acceptable to study with, especially since he was ill quite frequently and sometimes needed help catching up--and she had said she was a bit peckish. The Not As Naughty Boy showed her how to sneak out of their tower and find the kitchens to steal food; the caretaker caught them and scolded them, especially the boy, saying that after all the pains they went to accommodate him, he should know better than to go around carelessly breaking rules with no respect for those who had taken him in. Little Sister wasn't sure what that was about, but she supposed it meant Not As Naughty Boy had some sort of scholarship; anyway, she had never liked the caretaker much, and apparently their head of house didn't either, and let them off with two hours of writing lines, and there were rumors that the caretaker himself got a scolding for his words.

Little Sister always had an explanation.

Big Sister felt disappointed in Little Sister for breaking such an easy rule; but she felt more resentful that Little Sister and the Apparently Just As Naughty Boy managed to dodge the sort of punishment it sounded like the other students got for acting out of line. Little Sister didn't tell to many more stories about studying with Just As Naughty Boy or sneaking around, but Little Sister still managed to get into the middle of messes, anyway. She said the Naughty Boys sometimes followed her around, and sometimes she followed them to stop them from playing tricks on less popular students, but they still liked her. Big Sister was horrified that Little Sister couldn't do something to discourage the attentions of such unsuitable company.

...this made Big Sister embarrassed and a little envious...

Then, just after Big Sister's own engagement, Big Sister heard that Little Sister was going with one of the Naughtiest Boys. Going with him. Big Sister nearly broke something after she received that letter. A stupid prankster was kissing her little sister? Little Sister was too special for him, Big Sister was sure. Little Sister was beautiful, and smart, and popular, and made everyone smile. Little Sister deserved something more than a common oaf from that other, strange world. Little Sister deserved someone real, someone substantial that Big Sister could see and approve of before they went out. Little Sister deserved someone more normal than any of the stupid, naughty boys at her school.

Big Sister was horrified that Little Sister couldn't do something to discourage the attentions of such unsuitable company.

Lastly, there was Danger, and Little Sister lost touch.

Big Sister was mildly surprised when she wasn't all too sad about it.

This Halloween night, these thoughts chased themselves through her head once more. Now she had a single child, a child she would never threaten with another to detract from the love she gave him; and a solid, real husband and a garden with nicely trimmed roses, and she didn't need holidays so much anymore, anyway.

The knock on the door frightened her. It was dark, and she hadn't been entirely composed in the first place. She rushed to answer before her husband stirred from his armchair encampment.

A Baby. And a Note.

The note was read three times before the words made sense.

Little Sister was gone. Little Sister was gone, and Little Sister's husband was gone, and everything was gone except a Baby and a Note.

They took away her Little Sister, eleven years ago, and now all they gave Big Sister was a Baby and a Note when Little Sister couldn't be given back. No one had stayed to tell her in person. No one had offered to help with the Baby or bake cookies to make her feel better or give her flowers or a hug.

But she didn't want a hug from those strange people, those freaks who had taken her sister. She didn't want any flowers from their hidden shops or cookies from their contaminated ovens.

And they had made it clear there was no one else to keep the Baby.

The Baby would be just like Little Sister; the Baby had Little Sister's pretty green eyes. The Baby would be strange, and would do the things Little Sister did, and the Baby would leave her son behind if she let it. Big Sister would not let these things happen. Big Sister had planned on making her son special; her son would still be special, but the Baby would be the strange one, the one who didn't have that many friends, the one who was picked on. Every day that the Baby reminded Big Sister of Little Sister, Big Sister's son would be loved more.

The Baby would be the Boy Who Was Left Behind; much like one Big Sister was left behind eleven years ago on the day Mother and Daddy took Little Sister to pick up her supplies for the new school.