My Wrath is a Mirror | ONC 2022

Two

Just for the hell of it, I take the long way back to Mom's apartment. Up the winding mountain road I go, just under the speed limit to sort the emotions warring within me. In the spring, the trees covering the mountains are full and green with life, but now that winter has descended, the hills are cold and barren, the forest creatures gone into survival mode. I can relate. When the road curves into the mountain's shadow, my temper has cooled.

Even though I've been away for six years, I still remember Reading like the back of my hand. In the summer, the four of us—me, Kamryn, Mom and Dad—would go camping on the reservoir. Those days spent reading in a hammock, hiking in the woods, and building campfires were some of the best days of my life. And here I am again, a ballerina poised right in the middle of those memories spinning around me like a carousel of ghosts.

I focus on the road, slowing on a hairpin turn and come up on one of the places that childhood magic had seemed real. The weathered log fence runs along the road, and I follow it at a crawl. Frost still clings to the evergreen trees, the sun not quite reaching this side of the mountain yet. Before I can help it, my face splits into a grin when the swings and slide come into view. Then the rusty merry-go-round. This was our favorite park—Kamryn's especially. Countless hours were spent here when we were children, and just as many as teenagers. It was more than just a playground to us. It was an adventure in the woods. The perfect picnic spot. A second home.

Driving up to the park's entrance, I pull onto the curb to read the sign posted at the front gate. My smile drops immediately.

TOWN OF READING

PUBLIC NOTICE

An application has been filed for a certificate of appropriateness.

A public hearing on this location will be held on December 1st at 6 p.m. at town hall.

The hearing was two days ago. Were they optioning the park for historic preservation? Then I notice another sign posted a dozen feet from the first.

TOWN OF READING

PUBLIC NOTICE

The Town of Reading has condemned this property and it has been optioned for demolition.

My heart sinks. This was Kamryn's favorite place in the world. And it was going to be demolished? Don't tell me someone wanted to build some new strip mall. The last thing this state needed was more strip malls. With a scowl, I pull back onto the road and push away the stinging ache in my heart as I continue toward Mom's apartment.

By the time I reach Juniper Lodge, the stone-laid apartment complex Mom is renting, I almost forget about the park, because my phone rings right as I'm pulling up.

"This is Kamille," I answer.

"Hi Kamille, this is Stacy at Green Queen Nutrition. I'm calling to inform you that the role you were hired for, well, it's being dissolved. We won't be hiring any new employees after all. I'm sorry."

For two full breaths, I can't respond. How do you even respond to that? Say thank you?

"Okay," I manage dumbly. "Goodbye." I hang up and stare through the windshield, processing. When Green Queen Nutrition hired me after I graduated two weeks ago, they said they would work with me when I come to take care of Mom. I was supposed to work from home here during my stay, but now...

Today couldn't get any worse.

A well of anger rises in me. Kindled by the news about the park, and now rejected from a job that could have been the foothold in my career, I want to burst into flames. Stomping to the front door of the apartment, I knock once and turn the handle, entering along with the burst of cold air that sweeps in behind me. I find Janine putting away plates in the kitchen. When she turns to look at me, a frown slashes across her face.

"What happened to you?"

I want to laugh and scream and cry and vomit all over this stupid day in this stupid town. Not trusting myself to speak just yet, I shake my head and reach for a glass, shoving it under the faucet and filling it to the rim. I drink deep, gulping until it's empty. I wipe my mouth with the sleeve of my sweater and take a few breaths, willing myself into calm while Janine watches me with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm fine. I'm going grab the groceries before the ice-cream melts."

Pivoting, I storm back outside, barely feeling the icy wind in my face.

After a minute, I nudge the front door open with my elbow, arms full of grocery bags—because making more than one trip to the car is for the weak. Dropping the bags on the kitchen counter, I study the rooms around me that I missed when I first entered. I can see why Mom chose this place. The interior is all warm-toned wood with flagstone accents. The living room and kitchen are cozy, just big enough for two. It's like they wrapped up one of those tiny houses on TV and shoved a dozen of them under one roof.

Curious, I peer into the hallway. "Is Mom's room set up yet?"

"Just finished with the final touches. I'll be dropping her off in the morning when my shift ends, so you can spend the evening unpacking the living room if you want." She winks at me over the fridge door before turning to put away the milk and eggs. "There's only one bedroom, so you might want a few extra blankets on the couch."

When Mom signed the lease, she didn't anticipate anyone coming to live with her, so a guest room wasn't needed. But I shrug—I don't plan on staying in town long anyway and a few weeks of sleeping on the couch won't kill me.

After making myself and Janine a quick dinner, she heads home to take a nap before her night shift. When she locks the door behind her, I'm greeted with an empty silence that puts me on edge. It's too still. Wishing I had my record player from my college apartment, I instead choose a playlist on my phone and blare the music while I unpack.

Hours later, after sifting through half a dozen boxes, I'm finally almost done. My back is starting to hurt from sitting on the floor for so long. At last, I come across a fat photo album at the bottom of the last moving box. Swallowing the lump wedged in my throat, I dust off the cover and place it on the coffee table without opening it. Today has been taxing enough, and I know my limits. Yawning, I rub at my eyes and check the time on my phone and blow out a breath. It's only nine in the evening and I'm exhausted already. Then I see I have a text from Loren.

Dinner tomorrow night at 7?

I grin, my heart warming. Loren was one of my best friends in highschool, and when I left for college, I was afraid she wouldn't want my friendship anymore. But even after I left, she always remembered to call me on my birthday. And honestly, I need a friend right now.

As long as we can get Mexican. I'm craving margaritas.

I emphasize by sending an army of margarita emojis. Her reply is instant.

It's a date! Meet you at Los Portales at 7!

Getting up from the floor, I stretch, bringing my arms over my head and groaning at the stiffness in my back. Geez, only twenty-two and I feel like a grandma. Aching back, getting sleepy before ten o'clock. Next thing I know, I'll be knitting scarves and drinking prune juice.

Pulling one of the blankets I had meticulously folded an hour ago from the end of the couch, I curl up on the loveseat and close my eyes. I tell myself I'm just taking a break—after all, I still have to break down the empty boxes and brush my teeth. But as I lay there, the soft sound of raindrops hitting the roof plays a lullaby I can't resist, and before I can tell myself to get up, I'm already fast asleep.