On July 4th Mama wakes up bursting with energy. Or maybe she’s never even gone to bed. She runs around the living room unpacking her sheet music and violin scores. Sorting and resorting them into messy piles on the floor. Eve has the day off (finally!) and Mama promised we could all drive to see the fireworks downtown later. Eve and I tiptoe around the kitchen now trying not to make a noise or ask Mama if she needs help. We eat our oatmeal in the sunroom with the door closed.
“Want to watch music videos on my phone?” Eve offers scooping the last bite into her mouth.
“Sure.” I scoot closer to her. So that our shoulders are touching.
“It’s all clear to me now! I need everything organized so I can start fresh. A new beginning.” We hear Mama talking to herself from the next room.
Eve turns the volume up all the way on her phone. “You pick first.”
I type in Nina Simone “Feeling Good” and even though it’s not a real video but just a recording with pictures of Nina Eve lets me watch the whole thing.
“I like that song.” She says when it’s done. “Now my turn.” And Eve picks the song “Roxie” from the musical Chicago. She knows all the words and so do I since we saw it live in New York two years ago on a family vacation. When the song ends I grab the phone from Eve and type something in secretly.
“Remember this?” I say jumping up and getting into position. I stand in front of Eve with my palms pressed together in prayer.
“‘How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria’!” Eve laughs. And then she gets up and stands next to me in the same pose. The Sound of Music is another one of our favorites. We watch it whenever we can. When the song starts we take turns singing and pretending we are the nuns. We shake our heads and act very concerned about all the mischief that Maria is causing in the abbey.
“Let’s keep it going.” Eve laughs when the song ends and types in “My Favorite Things.”
We yell-sing. Dancing around in our pjs just like the Von Trapp kids.
Midsong Mama flings the door to the sunroom open. “Girls!” She yells. “Have you seen the paper shredder?”
We shake our heads and I feel Eve moving closer to me. “Mama.” Eve says slowly. “What do you need it for?”
“Oh I think it’s in the garage! Yes. Yes. That’s where I’ve seen it.” With that Mama flurries out and runs into the garage.
“Let’s do another song!” I turn back to Eve with a smile but her face is a hard stone.
She wrinkles her nose and bites her lip. “Follow me.” She says after a beat.
We tiptoe back out to the living room. Mama has dragged the paper shredder into the middle of the floor and plugged it in. She’s wearing her nightgown and nothing else. Her large breasts swing slightly from side to side as she begins to shred every single piece of her music. Sheet by sheet. “I just need to start over.” Mama mumbles to herself over and over again. “A fresh start.”
“Should we stop her?” I ask.
“No.” Eve says her hands on her hips. “Come with me.”
I follow Eve again. This time we duck into the laundry room across from Mama and Papa’s room.
“Listen.” Eve says in her annoying big sister voice. “We might not make it to fireworks tonight. And I need you to not complain about it ok?”
“What! But Mama promised.” I can’t help but whine.
“I know. It sucks. But listen. We just need to let Mama do whatever she’s doing ok? Stay out of her way.”
“Ok.” I gulp. But my head feels like it might explode. I stay out of Mama’s way all the time. “But why?” I can’t help saying out loud. “Why can’t she just be fine so we can see fireworks like a normal family? Nobody keeps their promises these days. It’s not fair!”
Eve’s brow unfurrows. Her shoulders slump. But she doesn’t yell at me. She just shrugs her shoulders and bites her lip as if to say: I’m sorry.
“Want to get out of here?” Eve says after I calm down. Her voice soft like it used to be when she let me hang out in her room more. “We can take a walk to the bird farm?”
I do. Want to get out. But for some reason I also want to yell and scream and throw myself onto the hallway floor like I am a toddler. I hold back my tears. “Sure.” I say.
We try to tell Mama where we are going. But she just waves her hand at us and continues shredding. So we leave through the back gate and walk along the ditch behind our house into the droning light of the morning. Eve charges ahead.
“Stop walking so fast.” I yell at her.
“Walk faster chicken legs!” She yells back with a grin.
I stick out my tongue and try to keep up. I’m glad to be out of the house. Even if it means walking in Eve’s dust.
What I love most about the birds is that I can hear them before I see anything. Then after a sharp curve in the path blocked mostly by the roots of a leaning cottonwood it appears: A canopy of sound and bright feathers as if someone is having a pillow fight with the rainbow. Peacocks. Doves. Parrots. Yellow canaries. Even a sad-looking ostrich. Eve and I never fail to lose our breath at the sight of it. A stain of some other world flung against the flat simmering houses of tan orange and burnt rose. Birds singing in the light.
“Let’s try to get a peacock feather!” I say as we begin searching for a stick thin and long enough to fit through the wire fence keeping the birds in. The feathers collect like leaves against the edges of the cages and sometimes if we are lucky we can fish a perfect one out.
“This time try not to get one with crap on it!” Eve teases.
I crouch down low and roll up my sleeves. The ostrich turns its bulging eyes at me as if to say: Who are you? Batting away the crusty and feces-stained feathers I dig with the end of the stick until I find a perfect one and nudge it toward the holes in the wire.
“Careful! Don’t mess it up. Slowly.” Eve is peering over my shoulder.
I hold my breath and focus. I inch the feather out and grab the tip of it with my fingers.
“Wow.” Eve says. “That’s a good one.”
I grin wide. And for a moment I forget all about Mama and the shredder and this sucky day.
“Let’s keep going.” Eve says.
So we walk along the ditch for the rest of the afternoon. Sometimes we talk and sometimes we stare up at the blinding blue sky lost in our own daydreams. We smile at neighbors outside with their bar-b-ques fired up. We inhale the smell of smoke and meat and celebration. And we ignore our own growling stomachs. We poke sticks into the muddy ditch water and watch crayfish scurry out. We visit a couple horses that have sauntered over to a fence. We pet their wide noses and let their gummy mouths explore our palms. Around sunset we make it back home. Mama is in her room with the TV on but the living room floor is still littered with papers.
Eve and I clean up and then make ourselves fish sticks for dinner. Around 9pm the fireworks start to go off downtown. So Eve and I climb up into the cottonwood and watch the sky. Hoping for a glimpse. But we’re in the valley. We are too far away to see much.
“Well happy fricken birthday America.” Eve says with a sigh. Then she grabs my hand and squeezes. And we wait. Eventually a few big ones make it to us. They light the whole sky and then fizzle out. Then we are in the dark again.