my sister, Ali, 9

I was visiting my family and I was standing in their kitchen and I was watching Ali, her hands gripping her hips. this was a few days ago. ali's actual name is christany alexis. ali is high-strung. sometimes, ali reminds me of a tiny thirty year old.

'I hate my choir teacher,' she exclaimed, her eyebrows knit together. 'the way she treats us makes me -- excuse my language -- pissed!'

I burst out laughing and ali smiled. a german exchange student, kim, 16, stood awkwardly nearbye, eyes flickering in all directions. poor kim. she is the same age as my wayward sister, samantha, a girl who has crashed multiple cars already and who regularly sneaks out in the middle of the night to meet boys. she is bold and brash and loud. when I was younger, her hyperactive antics would make me freeze and cringe. 'be patient with sam,' my father told me one day, as we walked on the beach, and he carried her droopy, small, soft body in his arms. 'she's tenacious. that will get her places in life.'

later, I found ali examining her bellybutton.

'it's shaped like an L, so I named it lucky,' she said in a matter of fact way.

'oh, name mine!' I exclaimed. I pulled my shirt up and she prodded at my bellybutton for awhile.

'well,' she said, with some consideration, 'your's is shaped like an H, so I'll name yours... Henry!'.

'Henry?' I asked, perplexed.

I said goodbye to hunter, my brother, and he clutched frances bean, one of my dogs, tightly to his chest. he is 14. he is quiet and strange. 'the most fun thing in the world,' he told me once, quietly, 'is going up to strangers and asking them if they would like to buy a box.'

'oh, are you in the box business now?' I asked. he shook his head and grinned.

'no, I don't have any boxes. but it's fun to ask.'

I hugged him goodbye. 'did you know I got a part in the school play?' he asked me. 'it's henry VI. I'm mortimer.'

'should be easy. just scream help, help!' I said. taking my leave. hope (sister, 6) apprehended me at the door.

'are you coming to my birthday?' she asked sweetly.

'yeeees,' I said. 'it's four days before mine, you know.'

'you'll be 22!' she screeched. I went outside, in the twinkling twilight, where moonlight lit the tips of my hair and my hands glowed. samantha came running out, all wet hair and bathtowel.

'sam!' I exclaimed.

'hey,' she said, avoiding stepping on rocks.

'go put some clothes on,' I said. she rolled her eyes.

'I don't care if anyone sees me,' she said, removing her towel completely and dancing around. a car drove by.

'stop that!' I barked, draping the towel back on her shining body. drips of water gathered at the ends of her hair, like icicles. she stopped dancing and discreetly tucked the towel around her once more.

'hey, can I stay with you next weekend?' she asked, with all of the caustic, twitching disenchantment of a teenager.

'we'll see,' I said, patting her on the hair. 'bye.' I hugged her, dampness seeping in the fibers of my shirt. she rubbed her soaked head on my shoulder.

'don't forget my gift certificate!' she screamed, as I was driving away.

I went to christopher's house, my brother, 20. he made me a cup of coffee and we sat down on the table and he rubbed his hair. my head lolled gently as he said, perplexed, 'I don't know why I am more comfortable living conflicted than at peace.' I played the piano softly while he made me a mixed cd. 'you'll love it,' he said, his eyes twinkling. as I was driving in the blank darkness, from fredericksburg to austin, with deer occasionally flickering from the sides of the cutting road, I listened to this fabulous cd. it was songs we loved before we turned 18, moved out, moved away. songs we used to listen to. songs we listened to when we took ecstasy and laid on my bed. nine inch nails, the smashing pumpkins, aphex twin. my bloody valentine. I smiled.

christopher and me:

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