The Entirely Fabricated Story of Lizzie Nickerson

Chapter 18

It was well past noon when Indigo tromped down the hallway into the kitchen, her mouth widening with a yawn. She slept naked and didn't bother to dress before making her way to the kitchen.

Referring to her sister's nudity, Sonya asked, "Did you forget something?"

"She's in there reading."

When Indigo sat her naked butt on the kitchen chair, Sonya winced. "This apartment is a little drafty. Maybe you wanna put on some clothes."

"Don't be so uptight," Indigo said. "You got any tea?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do." Sonya opened a cabinet door. "You okay with Lipton?" 

"If that's all you got." She rested her heels on the edge of the seat and pulled her knees against her boobs.

When Sonya got a brief glimpse of the gynecological display, she diverted her gaze, filling a teapot at the sink.

As a memory from last night leaked into Indigo's waking consciousness, her brow dipped. "Hey. What did you do to Maribeth's hair?"

"Her hair?"

"Her hair smells funky."

"Oh, that. She wanted to try a little bit of my shampoo."

Indigo's tone sharpened. "What did I say about the soap, man?"

"I know, I know, but with your hemp soap she couldn't get any lather for her hair."

"Lather?" Her pretty face flushed. "You put sodium sulfates in my kid's hair?"

"It was just the tiniest bit of Dove shampoo." She held her finger and thumb a quarter inch apart.

"Why don't you just feed her arsenic, Sonya?" She slammed her palms against the tabletop. "I mean what the fuck?"

"She's fine, Indigo. It happened once and we made sure to rinse her hair thoroughly. Super thoroughly."

"Well, I can still smell it. You have no right."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let her try the shampoo. I apologize."

A familiar little voice squeaked, "It's hard to read with you two yelling out here."

The sisters turned to find Maribeth standing in the hallway.

Indigo snapped at her daughter. "Why did you let her put that poison in your hair?"

She hung her head.

"You're not paying attention to me, Maribeth, and that's a problem."

"It's my fault." Sonya interceded.

Ignoring her sister, Indigo got out of the chair. "You're six years old! You should know better. What did I tell you about sodium sulfates?"

"They're poison," the little girl mumbled.

"I can't hear you, Maribeth."

"Sodium sulfates are poison."

"And when you put them in your hair it's bad for you and it's bad for the earth. You know that!"

"Oh, geez. I made a mistake." Her foot tapped involuntarily.

Indigo's face flushed. "No, I made a mistake, letting you stay here with somebody who doesn't give a flying fuck about you or the earth."

"That's not true," said Sonya.

"The next time I go out of town, you're coming with me, Maribeth. And that's all there is to it. Are you happy now?"

Maribeth cocked her head. She couldn't comprehend why her mother would think that the shouting and the sulfates and the damage to the earth would bring joy to anyone.

Indigo stormed past her daughter into the guest bedroom, growling as she breezed by, "Don't be a drag. Get your things. We're gonna split. This is a bad scene." 

Sonya approached Maribeth and reached out to touch her face. The little girl recoiled.

"I'm so sorry for getting you in trouble," she whispered to Maribeth. "You didn't do anything wrong. It was my fault."

"Come on, Maribeth," Indigo called from the bedroom. "Pick up these books."

"Let me drive you home," said Sonya. "I'll throw on some clothes and—"

Indigo waved her off. She zipped up her faded jeans and pulled a T-shirt over her head. "I don't need anything else from you. You've already done enough!" She gathered her hair into a messy bun. "Maribeth! Let's go!"

"Indigo, be mad at me if you want," said Sonya. "But please don't take it out on Maribeth."

Indigo straightened. "You got kids? Huh?"

Sonya shook her head.

"Well, I do. So back off, man!" She grabbed Maribeth by the wrist, yanked open the apartment door, and rumbled down the steps.

When they reached the bottom of the flight of stairs and crossed the second-floor landing, an elderly man peered out into the hallway from his apartment. "Good afternoon, ladies," he said with a congenial smile.

Maribeth didn't know that the man was Frederick Gibbs, and although she possessed some seemingly magical skills, seeing into the future wasn't among them. She could not have predicted that in eight years, she'd be seated on the first-floor staircase looking down at the body of Frederick Gibbs, questioning police detectives' assertions that her neighbor had died as a result of an accidental slip and fall.

She also didn't know that the sugary aroma of Ms. Margery Brennan's pecan putters that crept up the stairwell would become a familiar and welcoming smell.

........ 

On their way to the bus stop, Maribeth noticed that three different men wore the same black baseball caps with orange B's on them. She noticed two separate stores advertising chili. She didn't know what chili was but it smelled good. She felt the urge to ask her momma about chili but she noticed that her mother remained agitated. While waiting for the light to change at the crosswalk, Indigo closed her eyes and began her deep breathing exercises.

Standing beside her irate mother, Maribeth felt her mouth go dry and her eyes grow watery. She couldn't understand how liquid from her mouth could find its way up to her eyes and the concept puzzled her. The phenomenon must somehow have been connected to the images of her Aunt Sonya that overwhelmed her thoughts. She wanted desperately to push them aside and go back to noticing things about colors and geometric shapes and unfamiliar smells but Aunt Sonya remained dominant. Maribeth failed to detect a pattern that would lead her to a reasonable conclusion or an explanation because her high-functioning visual mind and superior analytical skills failed to correctly interpret emotional feelings. She was confounded by what most people would consider a simple, obvious explanation. 

She missed her Aunt Sonya.