Trees are our lungs. That’s what Willow would tell me as we’d lie under the big oak tree out front. Hand in hand, we’d watch the clouds pass and the leaves blow. Occasionally one of us would point to a cloud, calling out what it looked like. The other would squint her eyes and try to see it. I could never see what Willow saw in the clouds. Hi, my name is Grace. Although I was never that graceful; that was Willow’s job. If we were animals she’d be a gazelle, prancing around majestically. Anyways, I’m 11 years old, and I think that if I were an animal I’d be a turtle. “You just need to come out of your shell!” She would say enthusiastically.
“It’s not that easy. You don’t even have a shell to come out of!” I’d respond.
Then she’d do a backflip or a front handspring or something, as if to say “Obviously”. She and I had this discussion many times.
This started on a spring day in late May. I woke up early, got dressed, and left for school. I didn’t bother having breakfast. I decided I’d buy a granola bar at the newsstand on the way to school. Of course, I forgot that they closed down the stand that weekend. After a breakfast of disgusting lime flavored yogurt from the cafeteria, I put my bag in my locker and made my way to homeroom. My teacher was droning on and on, and I was so tired I fell asleep right there on my desk. She had to wake me up, and by the time I realized what had happened the whole class was laughing at me. I hate being the center of attention. To make matters worse, Alyssa, my arch-enemy, started telling everyone.
After English, Math, and Spanish, I made my way to gym class. I was crossing my fingers that we’d play dodgeball, because there’d be so much chaos I could waltz over to the girls bathroom when Ms. Jones wasn’t looking and spend the period reading instead. Instead, we played soccer, and she made me the goalie! Lunch, which followed P.E., wasn’t much of an improvement. I spilled a sloppy joe all over the front of my shirt, and by the time I had walked through the door of my bedroom I was exhausted, not to mention I had stains on my shirt and my hair was a mess. I changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, then collapsed onto my bed.
I stayed in bed until my mom called me for dinner. I trudged over to the table and sat down. I started eating my pasta and my parents exchanged a glance. “Um–is there something wrong?” I asked, hesitantly.
My mother sighed. “Sweetie, we know that you’ve been having a hard time at school this year.”
Of course I have! I thought, but instead I just nodded.
My dad cleared his throat and continued. “We think it would be a good idea to give you a fresh start.” I didn’t say anything, but I started fantasizing about what it would be like to go to school away from my tormentors, Alyssa and her group of followers.
I took a deep breath and said, “I’ll think about it, but I think it would be nice to go to a different school next year.”
My parents exchanged another glance, and my dad spoke up. “Gracie, it wouldn’t be for the next school year, it would be for the summer. And, it’s not a choice. You’ll leave the Sunday after school ends.”
I looked up from my food. “Wait, what?? I’m spending the summer away?? Who am I even going with??”
My mother said “that’s the other thing we want to talk to you about. You’ll spend the summer with my sister, Esme.” I scrunched up my face, trying to remember her from the family gatherings. My mom, reading my expression, said “Oh come on, you know Aunt Esme! She was at Thanksgiving last year!” Finally I nodded, vaguely remembering a middle aged woman who sat across from me, who asked me to pass the cranberry sauce, and scolded Willow when she spit out her sparkling apple juice laughing. This was not who I wanted to spend the summer with.
“Well-well- I won’t go! You can’t make me!”
My dad stood up. “Oh yes you will.” He said, in his most stern voice. “You will have a great time, and you will learn new things.” Without a word, I stormed out of the room.
I ran into my room and flopped onto my bed with a satisfying flop. If Willow was here, she’d sit on the foot of my bed, give me a big hug, and tell me everything was okay. I got up and put my ear to the door. I could hear my parents muffled voices, but I could tell that no one was coming. Trying to be as silent as possible, I walked over to my bookshelf. I pulled over a chair and felt around on the top shelf until I found it. I got down, moved the chair back, and sat down on my bed. Then I started drawing. I had never been the creative one, that was Willow. She’d put on plays, write stories, and sew clothing, while I’d be the stage manager, check her grammar, or let her dress me up like a mannequin. I had always been the one who never spoke, who sat quietly in a corner reading. But when I drew, those pieces of imagination that I thought I had lacked came flowing out. Worlds of color and beauty right there on the page.
I could never tell anyone this, though. Like I said, this was Willow’s sort of thing. They’d probably all laugh at me, I thought. I kept sketching in that old composition book until I heard a knock on the door. Quickly, I stuffed the notebook in my pillowcase, right as my dad walked through the door to my bedroom.
“Hey, kiddo.” He said, ruffling my hair. Immediately I got up and combed it back into place. My dad continued, “I just want to let you know that your mom and I are doing this for your own good.” I rolled my eyes at that. My dad took a deep breath. “Your mom and I have an idea. You can spend 3 weeks there, and then we’ll come up and if you still want to leave you can, but if you want to stay, that’s also fine. No judgment.”
“Ok, sure. Well goodnight.” I said, without making eye contact.
He smiled. “Goodnight, Gracie.” He said. After that I drifted off to sleep.
The next two weeks of school were a rush of standardized tests, assemblies, field days, and popsicles. Finally, the Sunday after the last day of school came. I sat on our porch, taking in the smell of the freshly mowed grass, the sound of honeybees pollinating, the feeling of the sun on my face. Summer I thought. At precisely 9:33 a.m, a black car pulled into the driveway.
A middle aged woman wearing jeans, a black blouse, and fancy ankle boots stepped out, with her hair neatly pulled into a bun perched on the top of her head.
My own mom was wearing a striped shirt and shorts that went to her knees, complete with dirty sneakers from working in the garden. She wore a sun hat and her hair sat on her shoulders. At first I couldn’t see any resemblance.
My mom had dark brown hair like me, while Aunt Esme had dirty blonde hair. My mom had tan skin, freckles, and callused hands, while Aunt Esme had pale, perfect skin and perfectly manicured nails. But after they had a tight hug, I could see their identical smiles.
Finally, Aunt Esme walked over to me and smiled. “Hi, Aunt Esme.” I said hesitantly.
She laughed, but it sounded forced. “Hi, Grace. Do you need any help with your luggage?”
I looked at my duffel bag and backpack loaded with clothes and books. “No, that’s ok.” I said.
After a moment of silence, my mom swooped in and said “Esme, why don’t you come in for a cup of coffee?” I followed my mom and Aunt Esme into the house and sat with them, sipping lemonade as they had their coffee.
About 15 minutes later, Aunt Esme stood up, brushed herself off and turned to my mom. “It’s been lovely, Rachel, but we should go if we want to get back to my house before noon.” My mom stood up too and walked us outside. I hauled my duffel bag into the trunk of Aunt Esme’s car and tossed my backpack in the back seat. After a series of tight hugs from my mom and dad and reassurance from Aunt Esme, we got in the car and pulled out of the driveway.
The whole drive Aunt Esme and I didn’t talk much, except for “I’m stopping for gas, do you want anything from the convenience store?”
To which I replied “No, thanks.” Finally, at 12:47 pm (we had in fact been caught in traffic), we turned right and drove up to a two story house that overlooked a lake. I thought about Aunt Esme, all shiny and fancy, living in an old house in the middle of nowhere. I would have thought that she lived in a luxury apartment!
As if reading my mind, Aunt Esme just shrugged and said “It’s my summer home. Would you like to come see your room?” The guest bedroom, which was where I would be staying, had a big canopy bed with soft pillows and a pale blue bedspread. The walls had white wallpaper with little blue flowers, and there was a white vanity, a white dresser, a white desk, and hardwood floors covered by a pale blue carpet that matched the bedspread. What really got my attention though, was a window seat overlooking the lake.
“It’s perfect.” I marveled.
Aunt Esme looked at me and smiled, and was about to open her mouth to say something, but she snapped back into reality. “Grace, would you like some lunch? I need to go shopping, we can do that this afternoon, but I have sandwich things.” I put a hand on my growling stomach and followed her downstairs. Over a lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches, Aunt Esme told her that they would go to town today to pick up some groceries, and for an “orientation” as she put it. After lunch I got a tour of the house, and then we went back in the car and went to town.
Millstone (I learned that was the name of the town) was so bright and vibrant. It had cute little shops, and everyone knew each other. I was once again surprised about where Aunt Esme lived. After shopping we got dinner and ice cream. We arrived back at the house around 9:00 p.m.
Aunt Esme worked on an article she was writing while I watched TV and ate candy I had bought from a store in the center of town.
A little while later I climbed up the stairs. I had unpacked earlier, and I got my sketchbook out of the drawer in the wardrobe that I had hidden it in. I sat down on the window seat and started drawing. I drew the lake, I drew the birds, I drew the trees, and I drew the moon. As soon as I picked up a pencil a calm washed over me.
The next morning I woke up in the window seat with my sketchbook in my lap and my pencil behind my ear. I was still in my clothes from the day before. walked over to the wardrobe, got dressed, and put my notebook back in its hiding place. I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where I found Aunt Esme sitting at the kitchen table typing away on her computer. When she saw me she looked up, closed her computer, walked over to the stove, and put a plate of eggs, bacon, sausages, mini muffins, and even a doughnut in front of me. My eyes widened. I looked up at Aunt Esme who blushed and said “I wasn’t sure what you liked.”
After devouring breakfast, Aunt Esme told me that her friend who lived nearby was going to come over around 11:00 for brunch. “I want you to be on your best behavior.” she warned. Ah yes, the Thanksgiving “Get Some Towels To Clean Up The Mess You Made Young Lady” Aunt Esme was back. I went up to my room to make my bed. After that was done, I walked outside with my new book to look for good reading spaces. After making three loops around the house I decided on a little lawn chair next to the lake. Enough sun that I wouldn’t get cold on the chillier days, and enough shade so I wouldn’t come back to the house sunburned all over.
I stared up at the trees. Willow would have loved this place, just sitting here writing or doing cartwheels or splashing me, even if I specifically said “Don’t splash me!” I must have gotten lost in my thoughts, or fallen asleep, but before I knew it it was 11:07 and Aunt Esme was calling out “Grace! Come meet Ms. Smith!” Ms. Smith was a tall woman who looked a lot like Aunt Esme. She was the editor for the Millstone Gazette.
After introducing myself and bringing them some iced tea (“What a polite little girl!” Ms. Smith remarked), I headed back to the chair for my book. I was just about to sit down when I saw a flash of red.
I whirled around, looking for animals, when I heard an unmistakable crunch of dead leaves. I grabbed my book and suspiciously followed the sound. I came to a patch in the woods, and realizing that there was nothing or no one there I sighed and turned around, when a girl with auburn hair popped her head out from behind a tree. “Hi!” she exclaimed. I screamed. Obviously not noticing that, she said “I’m Maggie!”
“H-hi.” I whispered. “Um- I’m Grace.”
“Cool! Do you live here?” Maggie replied.
“N-no. I’m spending the summer up here, with my Aunt Esme.”
Maggie’s big smile decreased a little, but she nodded. “Ok. Do you want to come over and have popsicles?”
I nodded and said “I’ll go ask my aunt.”
On the walk over to Maggie’s house, I learned that Maggie was going into 6th grade just like me, Maggie had been the lead in the musical for the last two years, and that Maggie had two older sisters and one older brother. As they got their popsicles out of the freezer, Maggie asked “Do you have any siblings?”
I hesitated but said “No, I’m an only child.”
Maggie nodded. “My oldest sister Sophie, she’s 17, and a perfect dancer, and right now she’s boarding at some fancy ballet school in New York City. She’ll be home in a week though! My brother Sam is 15, and QB on the highschool football team. He thinks he’s so awesome. Really, he just stinks up the house,” she said, elbowing a teenage boy walking past us. She licked her popsicle and said “Wanna go out back?”
I followed Maggie to the backyard. After Maggie took another lick of her popsicle and said “Then you have my 14 year old sister Olivia. She’s Miss. Popularity, cheer captain, she’s been the class president since 6th grade, and she’ll never let anyone forget it. She may seem sweet, but she’s the devil in disguise. Then you have me, Maggie. I have absolutely no athletic ability, but I sing and act and play piano. Last year I got a solo for the school-wide concert! I think that’s why my sister Sophie and I get along so well. We’re both performers. She got into Wellesley, and is going to continue dancing at the Boston School of Ballet.”
Once I finished processing this information, I asked “Hey, what time is it?”
Maggie checked her watch and said “11:53 am.”
I jumped up. “Aunt Esme said I have to be home by noon!”
Maggie just shrugged and said “Relax, we’ll get there on time! Come on!” Us two girlsjogged back to Aunt Esme’s house. We arrived at 11:58. I waved to Aunt Esme.
“Bye, Grace!” Maggie called out. I gave a sort of wave and rushed inside.
Once inside Aunt Esme started asking questions. “How was it? Did you have fun? What’s that girl’s name again…” After Aunt Esme was satisfied with the answers I had provided, she handed me a bowl of mac n’ cheese. I picked up a spoonful of the cheesy, gloopy pasta, and tears came to my eyes. Aunt Esme turned around and said “What’s wrong? Is it burned? Or should I have not made it al dente?”
I wiped the tears off her cheek and said “No, it’s fine, it looks delicious, it’s just…” I took a deep breath. “This was Willow’s favorite food. I haven’t eaten it since-”
Without a word Aunt Esme whisked it away and put it in the fridge. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I had no idea. I’ll tell you what, what if I eat it for dinner?”
I nodded and said in a quiet voice. “Ok.”
Aunt Esme asked, “Would you like a quesadilla?”
I shook my head and stood up “I’m actually not hungry anymore.”
I trudged upstairs and sat at my window seat with my sketchbook. Even though it was only noon, I felt exhausted. Everytime my eyelids dropped I snapped myself out of it, but I finally fell into a deep sleep.
I woke up around 2:00 am. I went downstairs to get a snack. Finally settling on some chocolate chip cookies, I sat down, nibbling around the edges.
After I finished, I went back upstairs and tucked myself in. No matter how much I tried, I just couldn’t sleep. After 3 hours of light sleep on and off, I pulled on a hoodie andgrabbed my sketchbook. As quietly as possible, I opened the door and stepped outside into the crisp morning air. The sun was just rising, and I watched the light bounce off the lake and the leaves.
I walked over to my little spot near the woods, I opened my notebook, and grabbed my pencil. I tried to think of things to draw, but the vibrant colors didn’t spill out like they did the other day. I closed my eyes and turned my head up. When I opened my eyes, I saw the leaves. I managed to sketch every one with veins and details. When I finally finished, I slammed my notebook shut and looked around. And standing right next to me was Aunt Esme.
As soon as I made eye contact with her I stuffed my notebook under my hoodie. “Oh, um, Aunt Esme!” I said as cheerfully as possible. I continued.“Um, what are you doing? Did you see-”
Aunt Esme put her hand up. “Grace, I saw you drawing, and you’re really good!”
I looked down and blushed. “I never meant for anyone to see that.” I said quietly. “Willow was always the creative one. People would laugh at me if I showed them.”
Aunt Esme looked me straight in the eye. “Grace, am I laughing? No, I’m observing this beautiful piece of art that you made. I bet if we showed this to your parents when they come in two weeks they wouldn’t laugh. They would be taken back by your beautiful art skills. I bet if we showed this to Maggie she wouldn’t laugh. She’d probably call it a work of fine art and put on a play based on it.” I smiled at that last one. Yep, that sounded like Maggie.
“The world needs artists like you, Grace! They need artists like you to show them beauty and affection. They need artists like you to sew the world back together when it’s broken in pieces. So what if Willow was also creative. I think that your parents would be pretty proud to say that they had two smart, creative, adventurous daughters. Now get dressed! I’m taking you out for breakfast at the diner in town.”
At the thought of breakfast I leapt to my feet, but before I ran back into the house I looked at Aunt Esme. “Thank you.” I whispered.
Aunt Esme pulled me into a tight hug. “Anytime.” She said, smiling. After a breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes and sausages, Aunt Esme took me to a crafting store in town and gave me $25. “I’ll be in the visitor’s center across the street, since I want to pick up the newspaper. Wait outside when you’re done, ok?” I nodded and ran into the cool, air conditioned store.
I marveled at all of the supplies. It took 15 minutes, but I finally decided to buy a 100 page sketchbook, a pack of charcoal pencils, regular drawing pencils, and even fancy watercolors! I paid and was walking down the street with Aunt Esme when I ran into Maggie. “Hi!” She exclaimed and said “hey, do you want to come over later to swim? It’s supposed to be REALLY hot today!” I looked at Aunt Esme who nodded in approval.
Around 3:00 I headed over to Maggie’s house and rang the doorbell. A teenage girl wearing a cheer uniform answered the door. “H-hi. I’m Grace, Maggie invited me?”
The girl (who I assumed was Olivia) rolled her eyes, said “she’s out back,” and left, staring at her phone. I walked through the house to the backyard, where I found Maggie running through the sprinklers with a girl who looked like a college student.
When Maggie saw me she jumped up and said “Sophie came back a day early!” She gestured towards the girl. Sophie walked towards me and introduced herself. After I changed into my bathing suit, all three of us cannon-balled into their part of the lake and swam to the floating dock, taking turns pushing each other off and going down the water slide. It was the most fun I’d had in a while. After 2 hours of swimming, we raced back to the shore and dried off.
“So, Grace.” Sophie said “Do you have any siblings?”
Before I could open my mouth Maggie said “She’s an only child.”
“Lucky!” said Sophie, elbowing Maggie. I smiled at the two sisters.
“I should probably go home now,” I said, “It’s getting late.”.
Sophie smiled at me and gave me a hug. “Sure! Do you want us to walk you there?”
“No, that’s ok.” I replied simply. “I’m ok.”
I arrived at home and found Aunt Esme standing outside the door with her hands on her hips. “Where were you?” she asked.
“At Maggie’s house!” I exclaimed.
“It’s 6:02! I told you to be back by 5:45! I was scared to death! I thought you had been mauled by a bear!”
“Well, I’m here now,” I said. “God, Grace,” I thought, “when did you get so bold!”
Aunt Esme rolled her eyes and said “Don’t scare me like that again. But come inside, you must be starving.”
While I ate my spaghetti and meatballs, I told Aunt Esme all about Sophie and Maggie. Aunt Esme smiled. “Seems like you’re having fun up here!” she commented.
I slid off the chair. “Oh, no. I’m definitely not having fun.”
I wasn’t having fun, but everyday I went swimming with Maggie and Sophie and walked downtown to get ice cream. I wasn’t having fun, but every night I made drawings and showed them to Aunt Esme. I wasn’t having fun, but every night I stared up at the stars, counting every one I could see.
About a week after Aunt Esme caught me drawing, she had a guest come over for tea. She said that her name was Ms. Martins, and that she was a bit uptight. Aunt Esme also asked that I was on my best behavior. But at least Maggie could come over! Ms. Martins looked a lot older than Aunt Esme, like she could be a grandmother. I served the ladies tea, and then went down to the lake with Maggie. It was too cold to swim, so we were just hanging out. Suddenly, I started hearing snippets of their conversation. Yes, Grace. What was her twin’s name? I held up a finger, signally for Maggie to be quiet.
“Ah yes, Willow,” I heard Ms. Martins say. “Yes, I met that girl once, didn’t I? Never liked her.” I stood up and dusted myself off and slowly walked towards Ms. Martins and Aunt Esme, Maggie following me. I could hear Ms. Martins talking. “Honestly, Esme, she was too rowdy. Too loud. Back in my day girls were quiet and nice. Willow is… not that. And she had absolutely no manners. Honestly that girl looked like a pig, shoveling food down her mouth.”
That was the last straw. I stood up, grabbed Ms. Martin’s teacup, and threw it on the ground. I felt my ears get hot, and I felt a burst of energy that I never had before. And then I screamed.
“HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT! YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW HER! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO CALL WILLOW A PIG, WHEN YOU LOOK LIKE ONE YOURSELF! YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY, IF YOU PUT LIPSTICK ON A PIG IT’S STILL A PIG! YOU’RE THE EXAMPLE OF THAT!”
By the time I finished, my throat hurt and there were tears streaming down my face. Ms. Martins looked like she was about to faint. Maggie looked like she was holding back a laugh. After a few seconds we all came to our senses. Ms. Martins grabbed her purse, whacked me in the arm with it, yelled “Good day!” and walked to her car. Before Aunt Esme could say anything, I ran into the woods, Maggie running after me, and I curled into a ball on the forest ground. I cried and cried and cried. I curled myself into a ball so tight I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It felt like the walls were caving in on me. It felt like my lungs had exploded.
Finally, Maggie caught up to me. “Are you okay?” She asked. “What’s wrong?” And right then, the words just came tumbling out.
Willow and I were not twins. I was born at 11:55 pm on December 28th. She was born at 12:03 am on December 29th. We were both preemies. Three pound Grace and three and a half pound Willow. I needed a machine to breathe for me. Willow got to go home three weeks before me, and apparantly she was never happy until I came home. We were inseparable. But then came 5th grade.
Alyssa got worse and worse, and Willow wasn’t able to stand up for me. Around October Willow was diagnosed with leukemia. She fought so hard. After all the injections, she rubbed her arm and brushed it off. After losing her hair to chemo, she laughed. After all the pain, she managed to put a smile on her face. We thought she would make it, but mid-February she passed away. I had always been shy, but I would barely talk. It felt like there was a hole in my heart. Willow had taught me about everything from trees and nature to fashion design and gymnastics.
After talking about all of this, I realized something. Until I had come up to this tiny little town of Millstone, I had been sad and lonely all of the time. But up here I was happy. I made new friends. And although Willow would always be a part of my life, and I would always love her, the gap in my heart was starting to be filled. With Maggie. With Sophie. With Aunt Esme.
A week later my parents came up to Millstone. After ice-cream, it was decision time. “So, Gracie, do you want to come home?” My dad said.
I took a deep breath. “I want to stay here for the summer. I’m away from Alyssa. I’ve made friends. I have Aunt Esme. And I’m happy.”
After getting over their surprise, my parents gave me a tight hug and drove away. “I have something for you!” Aunt Esme said. She pulled out of her purse a copy of the Millstone Gazette, with a drawing on the front page. I looked closely and I noticed that it was my drawing of the tree! “The world needs to see your art, Grace!” Aunt Esme said. I hugged the newspaper close to my chest. I loved Millstone. Up here, I had the memory of Willow surrounding me. Up here I could finally breathe.
Because trees are our lungs. Don’t chop us down.