Ahoy, Sissy!

One very gray morning, very gray – the sort which sheds darkness instead of light, that blurs through the curtains at a pre-sunrise world, in a dreamless fever – Rotem crouched by my bed, fully dressed, booted and coated. In a whisper, she woke me up, her emergency goose-bumping me.
ROTEM: I just wanted to tell you bye. I'm going, I'm going with May.
ME: Where…where are you going?
ROTEM: I dunno. Just far away. Not here. Someplace she could treat herself.
ME: What's wrong?

She wouldn't tell me. She just hugged me, polyester coat seething against my nightie, she whispered violently weird love, strange ferocity of assertions. I was too bewildered to read into any subtexts then. I wasn't used to associate and decipher, or analyze characters and gestures. Along those adolescent milestones, just around the corner where you start critically dissecting your parents' choices, you also begin to discover a psychological Britannica of issues that are way, way over your comprehension and capacities. But you keep thinking you can handle this, you sure can.

I look back now, embarrassed. Granted, in 10 years I'll look back again and eat my foot. How could I have thought I could deal with somebody else's drug trouble? How could I have possibly dealt with anthropological issues that confound most researchers?
Wow, was I crazy.
ME: I want to see her.
ROTEM: No you don't. You don't, you don't!
But I stood up already, searched for my robe and slippers. I stared: Rotem was in trousers; what if somebody sees her? She stomped her foot, restless.

We raced down the dim corridors, down the deserted front steps. May was sitting on the bottom one, Sara at her side, eyes circled darkly. There was frost on the path, but May shivered as if she was electrocuted, and kept tugging at her body.
SARA: She threw up by the senior class door.
ROTEM: I'll go clean. Watch her for two more seconds.
Sara looked at me silently. She was dressed in what seemed to be yesterday's clothes. I asked her if she's leaving, too. She said no, she is staying. She is vice president. She has to explain what happened. I asked what happened. She eyed me wearily.

SARA: She's undergoing withdrawal, from drugs. But to everybody else, she's eloping with Rotem. We can't treat her here, she'll get everybody into serious trouble. They aren't capable of such cases. Rotem says she might know of a place of two where she could get some help. But all you know is that they ran away.

May muttered something, repeatedly. Sara ignored. The ice flashed bleakly under their feet. Rotem leaped downstairs, helped her up, smoothed her hair away from her face. May was crying now, in high rasping whimpers.
Sara stood up too. She gazed at them expressionlessly; the amount of stress she was under must have been unbearable. I felt entirely out of place.
ME: I want to come with you.
ROTEM: You're bloody mad.
ME: I have to. I want to.
ROTEM: Shut up. Go to sleep. You never met me. I love you.
ME: Wait 5 minutes, I'll get dressed.
ROTEM: Blow me!
ME: Just wait! Five minutes! I'll pack some fleeces and socks!
Rotem pounced on me, fizzling with rage, telling me to keep away from what I can't deal with, that she loves me, that I should forget what I saw here, that I'm a wonderful girl, that she'll kill me if I followed.

May screamed. It was a quiet scream, but it hushed us inadvertently.
ROTEM: See? We have to go. You stay here, be good.
ME: When am I gonna see you again?
ROTEM: In Hell, shall you be so lucky.
ME: Please? Please Rotem, when am I going to see you again?
She looked away, she looked at the hedges before the front yard, dark and frosted. She looked at the sky and the red streetlamps. When she looked back at me, all the drama ebbed away, everything was alright - her smile was back in place.
ROTEM: Gimme your address in Copenhagen, it's Hanukkah vacation soon. We'll hop by.
ME: You will?
ROTEM: Yuh-hu. We'll go to Tivoli World, and the Guinness Museum. We'll rock the town. Just don't eat any #%$*, little Alice.
I nodded. Rotem placed her arm around May's shoulders, pseudo-kicked Sara's crotch, wished us a courteous farewell, blew me a kiss, and charged down the path, jerking May along.

Sara sighed, and walked up the rounded stairs. She urged me to come on in, she has to lock up. We heard Rotem shouting gleefully:
"Ahoy, sissy! Whatcha got in your mouth sissy?"

How strange life is, at 5 a.m. in the morning.