Life

one

tw: little mention of abuse

She came with the floods, so it was almost no surprise she earned a near-righteous spot within the Church. At some point in their life, a Jericho resident would mention the raindrops that fell like boulders on their head, the wind that tore up their generational home, and the girl that came out of it all. As skinny and dark as a stalk with eyes clearer than the water that leaked from her skin.
Amelia, however, knew that her town had a collective issue with over-exaggeration. A runaway horse became a stampede; five-foot men stretched to seven; straight roads turned mountainous and ponds swarmed into monsoons. So when she heard about the girl, Amelia knew that she had been conflated above her true status.
And she was right. The people failed to tell, for example, that the 'girl' was twenty years old, so a young woman; she wasn't very skinny, she actually had a muscular cut to her arms and legs; she was dark and her eyes were clear, but her short curls didn't make it into the story. Amelia only learned the truth from the fifth pew of Greater Allen Cathedral on the first Sunday she returned home. Amelia hadn't even seen her at first; she always read a few of her favorite Bible passages before service, especially those about repentance. She just happened to look up and catch sight of auburn-glazed curls in the sunlight falling through the mosaic of Jesus' outstretched arms. Amelia looked at who the beautiful hair belonged to and found Andrea, the girl she had heard about for the past two years. Since then the flood's damage had been removed, the dead buried and the survivors recovered, yet Andrea remained a testament to what good can come out of the tides. As she watched Andrea grin and speak with patrons, Amelia wondered how scared she must've been to fly and hit not solid ground, but fluid water, a million times more dangerous than its static counterpart. Shivers ran down Amelia's spine, and they intensified when Andrea glanced at her and met her eye.
"Hand me a tissue from my purse."
Amelia shut her Bible on its bookmark and found a folded Kleenex in her mother's purse. The baby snatched it from her hand and got a head start on cleaning its snotty nose. Soon Amelia's mother took it and rubbed the baby's upper lip gently as she bounced it on her legs.
"Afterwards we're going to stop briefly at the cafeteria, then we need to go to your grandmother's so she can see you, but only for a half-hour." Her mother spoke with the tone of a businesswoman assigning tasks to her subordinates. "Your father will meet us there and take us to lunch."
"Okay." Amelia nodded and half-grinned at the baby's curious eyes before opening the Bible again. She forced her mind into the Old English words until Pastor Jefferson stood at the lectern and began service with an "Amen." Amelia felt her mouth move but with her eyes on Andrea, she wasn't exactly sure if sound escaped. In the orange glow of Jesus' light, Andrea looked ethereal. Amelia gazed at the mahogany column of her throat and the almost windswept delicacy of her curls above her brows. She wore a simple black button down shirt and slacks, but somehow it looked as though the style had been created by her, for her. Amelia genuinely couldn't look away, so she remained stationary while everyone turned to Andrea at the piano. Then some stood to their feet, armed with coffee-d voices and tambourines, and others turned towards the choir and the drums and guitars on the small stage.
Robert Jefferson, son of the Pastor and leader of the choir, took his father's spot at the lectern with his microphone. As he opened with a few phrases of how glorious God is, Andrea began on the piano. Her fingers didn't float or fly or grace the piano, those descriptions were all too cliché and base for her perfection. It was as if her fingers were the ones that held music, and the piano played on them; there seemed not a breath of air that separated the keys from her fingertips. The sound was so clear and so rich that Amelia felt like she was sitting right there beside her. In her mind, as Andrea picked up the pace and allowed the accompanying instruments and voices to meet her, Amelia actually did sit beside her.
Amelia hadn't attended any loud, musical sermons in two years, so being forced to stand and clap her hands and unmute her lips was jarring. She declared the headache a result of the noise bouncing back down from the high ceilings, disregarding that it had started that morning after her mother woke her. It didn't ease until halfway through service when Pastor Jefferson continued his speech about secular education and the knowledge of God. It was at that halfway point she glanced over at Andrea, who sat beside the piano in preparation for the next song. With her back to the sunlight, there seemed to be a mystical haze around her, one that she both absorbed and emitted. Amelia couldn't believe she had never seen her before, not even in photos. Granted, she had never been one for social media, and anything online probably wouldn't have done Andrea justice anyway-
In the midst of Amelia's rambling thoughts, Andrea looked over and met her eyes again. Amelia's mind immediately quieted to a static hum. It almost silenced when Andrea grinned at her. Like before, Amelia's lips moved, and she only hoped it was a similar grin.
The baby caught her attention with the flick of its fat hand. Amelia nudged it away with her finger, but it of course latched onto it. As it proceeded to suck her pointer fingertip, Amelia looked back over. Andrea had gone on to adjust the sheets of piano music, however, her head sometimes nodding in agreement with the pastor's words. Amelia soon returned to his words as well, and her mind returned to its normal function.

In the cafeteria Amelia chose a cup of orange juice and took tiny sips as people flowed around her towards her mother and the baby. It was while an older man bumped into her on his way past that she spotted the fresh tray of cornbread slide into a slot behind the counter. She walked with purpose and tried to make it in time, but there were five people in line ahead of her when the last crumb was served. The server gave an apology and tried to supplement with chocolate chip cookies. Amelia swallowed her disappointment beside her orange juice and mentally prepared herself for the return to her mother and the baby.
"Do you wanna share?"
Amelia only turned her head at first because she didn't think the person was speaking to her. She found Andrea's eyes on her and the rest of her body turned at once. Then she glanced down at the small plate of steaming cornbread.
Andrea whispered, "They keep a mini pan in the back for the choir and musicians."
"Oh." Amelia swallowed the dryness in her throat and nodded. "Thank you."
"It's no problem." Andrea broke the large piece in half and gave Amelia the plate, wrapping her piece in a napkin. Amelia knew she should've taken smaller bites, but the thought of eating long in front of Andrea terrified her more than her mother's lingering voice in her ear.
"You're Sister Madeline's daughter, right?" Andrea asked, and Amelia half-heartedly grinned as she nodded. "I've heard a lot about you. I'm really glad to finally meet you." Andrea held out her right hand, and wrapped around her pinky was a silver ring etched with initials that Amelia couldn't read amidst her palpitating heart. She shook Andrea's hand with the firm grip she was taught and prayed her pulse wasn't as erratic as it seemed.
"I-I've heard a lot about you too."
"Yeah, I think everyone has." Andrea murmured before she finished her cornbread. "You're in boarding school, right?"
"Well I graduated early, but yes, I was."
"Oh! So you're goin to college?"
"MIT in the fall. I'm staying here to help my mom with her firm and learn a bit more about it all."
"That's fantastic! Congratulations." Andrea's smile put all gild and gold to shame. "Do you know what you wanna major in?"
"Oh, um..." For the life of her, Amelia couldn't remember what her mother had filled out on the application: was it a double major of Political Science and Economics or Law and Economics?
Andrea's eyes faltered a bit as she stared at her, and Amelia felt the ground beneath her feet begin to skew.
"It's alright if you don't know," Andrea said with a slight frown. "Sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that."
"It's okay." Amelia inhaled a small breath seeing her grin and noticed a faint earthy perfume in the air.
A moment later, Madeline glanced over her shoulder and communicated a demand to her daughter across the dense air. Amelia finished her juice and wiped her mouth quickly, then said, "I need to go now."
"Oh-okay. So I'll see you around then."
"Okay." Amelia grinned, dumped her cup and plate in the nearby trash can, and returned to her mother. She took the baby when her mother handed it over and adjusted its wriggling weight in her arms as best she could. No matter which way she moved her head, it grasped onto a curl or two, and so she stopped fighting and followed her mother and Sister Corretta out to the car.

Little grains of rice became a tapestry-like puzzle beneath Amelia's bare knees, some snapped or crushed to dust by the force of her weight. She kept her shaking to a minimum and her breathing almost silent, but inside her eyes welled with tears.
In her periphery, the baby slid itself across the polished floors of the kitchen towards the oven. It looked at her, momentarily stopped its babbling, and then continued along. Amelia clenched her hands tighter, and a bit of blood colored the inside of her thumbnail.
After another three minutes, her mother grabbed her elbow and forced her up. The rice kernels turned into a miniature hailstorm as they fell from her legs; had the baby not been sucking on its pacifier on the counter, it would have been racing to catch them all before they hit the floor.
"Have you repented?"
"Yes."
"Good." Her mother let her arm go and Amelia straightened her nightgown. She listened to her mother describe all they would do to begin the week the following morning, but her eyes were on the floor. The white sprinkles of rice looked like seeds among the soil-rich wooden floors; she half-expected them to sprout like stalks and consume her.
Somehow she ended up in her bed, which had grown too lumpy and large and luxurious in her wake. She struggled beneath the thick quilt and atop the satin sheets until she gave up and rolled onto her side. Through the thin crack in her curtains she could only see the pointed end of the crescent moon, but its glow reached her bed. At first her mind had numbed from the dull pain and exhaustion; but after watching the moon shine, Amelia began to think of Andrea again. She was shocked Andrea even talked to her. She was also shocked by how normal Andrea was; despite her better judgement, she had forgotten that an ordinary person laid beneath the exaggeration. Mostly everyone did. As she began to fall asleep, Amelia promised she wouldn't be one of those people.