Page 37 of It's Me They Follow
What about The Doctor and ME and my class?
She breathed them out too.
What if I get home and I can’t go back in the house?
Inhale. Exhale. Sigh.
What if something happens to my sister?
Inhale. Exhale. Sigh.
“I deserve sweetness,” she told herself on repeat until she calmed the thoughts down completely.
When she opened her eyes, Elle was staring at her like she’d grown an extra head.
“One more thing,” Elle added, “because that just reminded me. And I mean this one, from the bottom of my heart...”
“You can’t learn anything when you’re talking,” The Shopkeeper said, like Rocky Balboa. “That’s a fact of life. As long as you’re talking, you’re not listening.” She laughed at her own bad impression.
“I mean it. NO MAKE PRETEND. No Houdini hoodoo funny business. This is the real world. This is not a movie. This is not a book. We are here and now. Feet on the ground. Head out the clouds, no flying.”
“That’s like telling me to cut off my wings.”
They sat in silence for a minute, thinking about how painful it must be to have your wings clipped.
I could turn back now, The Shopkeeper thought. Hop out of this car, forget her sister’s rule book, and head Down South on her own. Maybe in a few years, when she felt more ready. She didn’t need a chaperone. And she didn’t need the added pressure of a baby, who she couldn’t love properly or teach to trust because she couldn’t give them hugs or hold their hand when she walked them to the park. Her sisteradded their childhood address to the GPS. “118 Mountain Peak Drive.” The robotic voice confirmed their five-hour trip to Hampton, Virginia.
“Okay, okay. You’re right. ‘Nobody wants a bird with clipped wings,’” her sister conceded. “But I am not playing make pretend WITH you.”
“That’s your choice. No biggie.”
Make pretend was another coping mechanism they’d invented as children. It allowed them to see through walls and walk on water and move things with their minds. It was how The Shopkeeper explained her issues and her gifts; it was how she navigated life. How she overcame hurdles. She made things up. She loved to see the awe in other people’s faces when they listened to her fantastical yet true stories. It was how she learned the power of imagination. Of having a vision and bringing it to life. And now Elle wanted to control that too.
“Okay, you had three rules for me; I have just one for you.” The Shopkeeper pointed at her sister’s belly. “For both of you.”
“Hmmm.”
“Not today.” She laughed.
“Promise,” her sister said as she merged onto the highway. “Anyway, switching topics.”She fumbled with the radio. “If You Don’t Know Me by Now” was on. They both sang their father’s favorite—“You will never, never, never know me...”—in falsetto, like their daddy used to sing it. “Okay,what exactly did your boyfriend say in this letter? He told you he knew where we lived?” Her sister had always been a much better driver than her and a much better discerner of people. She was using her turn signals and keeping her eyes on the road and trying to piece together a narrative on my new guy. She concentrated intensely.
“The letter said to find ME, go home.”
“And you think he knows where we grew up? Is he some sorta stalker? I hope he’s nothing like youknowwho. What’s he planning to do? Stand outside with a bouquet of roses and wait for you like onThe Bachelor?”
The Shopkeeper hadn’t thought that part through. She wasn’t exactly sure what he’d meant in the letter. She’d spent several days trying to make sense of it and finally gave up when she couldn’t.
“There are only a few things holding me back from opening the bookshop, but the biggest hurdle is BOOKS. I left everything when I left Down South. I know it’s been a long time. I know I’m scared, and my doctor just died, and I haven’t seen our grandmother for almost twenty years. But I left my books, my notebooks, my sketches, my furniture, my recipes, my photos, my art, and I am returning like the sankofa bird to go get it. And for the hundredth time, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s a monk—a monk in training, whatever that means.
“And I don’t know if this has anything to do with him perse, but his letter made me want to go home, so I am going. I’m ready.”
Her sister adjusted her seat belt around her belly. Cars aren’t made for pregnant women to drive long distances.
“I’m glad you’re ready. I am proud of you. It’s been too long. But be honest: Aren’t you secretly going home because you want to be with your happily ever after?” Her sister was serious. “You always want to know the end of a story before it’s over.”
Sometimes the question game veered into interrogation.
“Leading question. Badgering the witness,” The Shopkeeper mockedLaw & Order.
