Mirror

Unrelenting Dream

Days continued like that for weeks. Kya and I would get up early in the morning and talk about school and Kya's boyfriend as had been our ritual since as long as I could remember. We would kiss Adren good-bye and wait on the porch for Shui to join us. I would hug Kya good-bye as her bus came to a stop to pick her up. Soon after I would find myself sitting in comfortable silence beside Shui until we got to school. I absorbed as much knowledge from the day as my head could possibly handle and then rode home next to Shui who would always kindly poke me awake when we came to our stop since it seemed impossible to keep my eyes open on the way home. Once home the three of us would turn up the radio, chuck our textbooks on the kitchen table, and dive into homework until dinner. That time was also used for conversation and, occasionally, Mom and Dad would join us, at which point we would take turns talking loudly, holding the sleepy Adren, or debating over answers to homework questions. After dinner, we'd turn on the TV and play with Adren unless it was a day for individual evening activities. Three days of the week Kya went to varied dance classes. The other two nights of the week Shui would go skateboarding- a new talent he discovered one day when I showed him the skate park that was only a kilometer from our house. Four nights a week I went to work at a family-run restaurant to serve tables and wash dishes. In short, we had a rhythm and we were happy. That is not to say, there weren't times when we felt the anxiety of hidden thoughts. I, myself, was stressed often when I really got to thinking about my lost memories, but my own disquiet seemed nothing in comparison to Shui's. I wasn't sure he had noticed how obviously tense he was, but when I asked Kya she said she saw it too. We were all often tired. We hardly stopped moving from morning until night and Adren did not yet sleep through the night, but, to Kya and me, Shui seemed exhausted. He kept up with his school work and never stayed home on the nights when he was scheduled to practice skateboarding. Yet, the dark circles under his eyes deepened every day. The tense posture that he had the first day we met him had not relaxed, but rather had become slouched and heavy. We were worried, but when we inquired about it he never gave a straightforward answer.

As winter break came closer the weather got increasingly colder and a thin layer of ice covered every lawn. Kya, Shui, and I hugged our coats tightly against our skin in an effort to stay warm on the short walk from our bus stop to home. I squeezed my eyes shut against the icy wind. Kya nudged me with her arm and looked at Shui. It was easy to see that he was dragging his feet.

"Shui!" I cried.

His head snapped up and the wind blew the hair out of his eyes. The rings under his eyes were deep and the light that was so strong two months ago was now blurred. "Is something wrong?"

"Shui, you look sick."

"I feel alright."

I reached out to touch his forehead and he drew back, but his movements were sluggish. "You're burning hot!"

Shui raised his hand as if he might slap my hand away, but he stopped and gently removed it from his head. "I said I'm fine. I will rest when I get home." He took a few quick steps and left Kya and me behind. Kya looked at me helplessly and I returned her uneasy gaze.

When we got home the car was missing and a note on the door explained that Mom and Dad had taken Adren to the pediatrician for a regular appointment to get a second opinion on her health. Since we didn't know the kind treatment Adren received in the first months of her life we were not entirely certain that she had a fully functional heart and lungs.