A Bubble of Time

Chapter 8: I Forgot How Much I Like This Stuff

I prepared dinner, and while it simmered in the pot I located a pitcher of grape Kool-Aid. I smiled as I poured myself a big cup of Kool-Aid. I made more, using hot water to dissolve the sugar and then adding the Kool-Aid pack and the cold water.

"Oh my God, why did I stop drinking this?" I muttered while I finished off my second cup. "Oh, yeah I got diabetes." I relaxed and smiled. "I had diabetes."

When the pork and beans and wieners were finished, I placed the lid on them and went around the house dusting and putting things in order, rediscovering items that I hadn't seen in decades. Nubia came home with her little friend, and they watched Popeye. I wanted to watch Popeye with them, but she narrowed her eyes at me so I left them alone.

Wow, what did I ever do to make her dislike me so much? And why didn't I ever notice the animosity?

Mama came home at about 5:30 p.m., kicked off her shoes, and shouted, "Did you do your homework?"

That was the first thing out of her mouth? Not "How was your day, how was school, did anything interesting happen?"

"Yes, ma'am," Nubia said.

"Hi, Mama," I said.

"Do you feel better?" she asked while hanging up her jacket. She turned and touched my face. "You feel a little warm."

"I feel better. I made dinner."

"You did?" She raised her eyebrows. "What did you cook?"

"Pork and beans and wieners," I replied proudly. "And I did the dishes and cleaned up the house."

"Well you obviously weren't that sick. You are taking your behind to school tomorrow!" She swept past me to her bedroom, and I stood there with my mouth hanging open.

Seriously? No "thank you"? That was so rude!

We ate dinner together at the dining room table, and when I tried to pull out bowls mama stopped me and told me to use the paper plates.

"How was work?" I asked as we ate.

Nubia gave me a funny look.

"It was all right," Mama replied while watching the television set.

"Did you do anything interesting?" I asked.

Mama's eyes moved from the television set to me. "I worked hard and made money. Now I'm home and I don't want to think about that damn place."

"Oh." Had she always been such a b***h?

I turned my attention to my sister. "What about you, Nubia? Anything interesting happen at school?"

She stared at me. "We got a new girl. She seems cool. She moved from California. Her name is Bree."

"Oh yeah, Bree! You…" I trailed off because I almost said that she and Bree would end up being best friends.

Nubia looked at me as if I was strange.

Mama only watched the news.

Later after we had our baths and it was time to go to bed, I asked Nubia about Kush. It was hard to find a way to ask about him without raising her suspicions, but if I was here to right the wrongs in my family, then I had to help my brother, too.

"Have you heard from Kush lately?"

She was lying on her bed drawing. She loved to draw, and unicorns and Care Bears she had drawn covered the walls. They were good. Nubia rolled her eyes. "Yeah…he was just here over the weekend—just like he is every weekend."

"Yeah, but I meant since then." I tried to clean up my mistake.

"Why would I hear from Kush? Even when he's here he doesn't talk to me. I'm invisible in this house."

Aww. My heart nearly broke. "I'm sorry, Nubia, if I ever made you feel that way."

"Shut up, retard!"

I was at a loss. "What is the deal with you? Have I been that bad of a sister that we can't even hold a simple conversation?"

Nubia got out of bed and stalked over to me. "Did you not rip the head off my favorite Barbie Doll? Did you not hide my homework so I got in trouble and had detention? Did you not put water in my bed so that I thought I had peed on myself? And you and Kush made me think my doll was possessed, you told me trolls lived in the attic when it was just a raccoon—"

"Wait a minute! I don't remember doing any of that to you!"

"You smacked me just last week and I didn't even do anything to you! I just borrowed your friendship bracelet."

"Oh my God…" I said softly. I remembered not being able to find my bracelet only to discover that she was wearing it. I had yanked it off her arm and, yes, I did hit her. How could I have forgotten that? I'm sixteen and I hit this poor kid.

She stopped talking to stare at me. I jumped out of bed and searched my jewelry box for the little beaded bracelet some boy I had been crushing on had made during arts and crafts. I kind of stole it when he left it behind after class. I'd lost it so long ago that I'd forgotten I even owned it.

I examined it and then turned to Nubia. "I'm so sorry, Nubie," I said, using an old pet name. "Please take it. I should have never hit you." I held out the bracelet for her, and she stared at my hand as if it was a snake about to strike. "Here. It's yours. I'm sorry I hit you."

She reached out slowly and accepted the bracelet. "You're giving this to me?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it's yours. I'm sorry for all that s**t I did. In my head I thought I was just…playing with you." In reality I had been torturing the poor girl. No wonder she didn't like me.

Her eyes grew wide. "Did you just curse?"

My eyes grew wide also. "I did?"

She nodded. "You said s-h-i-t."

A chuckle erupted in my chest that I couldn't suppress. "It's okay, Nubia. The world won't end just because I say shit."

"I thought you liked Marcus Whitley, and you said you were going to marry him," she said as she admired her gift.

I shook my head. "That boy is gay." He was also going to move in with a body builder and would be one of the first people I knew who would die of AIDS virus. I didn't tell her that part.

I climbed back in bed and watched as she put on the bracelet. Something occurred to me. If I did return to my own world, then the old me would replace me. What if I was a d**k to my sister again?

"Nubia, you're the only sister I got. Sometimes I might forget not to be an ass—I mean a jerk. If I'm ever a jerk to you just remember that I do love you."

She blushed red even though she had skin almost as ebony as my own. "You're a weirdo," she said. But this time her words were not filled with anger. I took it to mean that she loved me, too.