I heard plenty of school gossip but no self-conscious teen was going to talk about their childhood unprompted. Jacqueline didn’t remember much before Sandria. She actually suffered a head injury and her world was turned upside down while she was either in a coma or an amnesiac. Unlike some of the children, she was actually born on the reservation and raised by a single dad. Walker had a similar background, but his head was intact and he wasn’t home. Her head injury was from being irresponsible in her dad’s pickup truck.
For some reason the family Jacqueline once was close with shied away from her care. After a stint with a medically trained foster in the Phoenix area, she ended up with Sandria forever. It was clear by then that they were all automatically her legal children.
“Did you have any thoughts about that?” I asked Jacqueline (who always preferred her full name, no issue there) I finally had the choice to brace myself.
“Nah.”
“What about scholarships?”
“I wanna take a gap year anyways…or just wait to see who recognizes my real work.” She smirked as she said it. I was excited too. The wonders of the school’s wood and metal shop always made me think, since crusty Mr. McDermott wouldn’t let me in without goggles.
Anyways, she arrived at the house in clean clothes and her mountain of curly dark hair pushed back. Like most of the girls Sandria raised and the mom herself, she grew it out. I wondered if any tantrums happened whenever Jacqueline bobbed it. Probably not.
She loved building with the blocks at the table. “I wanna be an architect!” got negotiated down to “I wanna take wood shop!” to appease a very impatient kid. Winifred, the redhead, usually joined her at the table. Until she got bored, of course. It was time spent that she could spend painting instead.
Jacqueline was also a heavy sleeper, like her other siblings. The fires at Sandria’s house ceased but one burglary began. She stole only a kid’s craft table. It wasn’t even worth calling the cops over.
Sandria saw her kids’ hobbies as ways to become good citizens, which was noble if nothing else. The children sorted themselves into shared hobbies eventually, or at least that was what happened the last time. All the kids immersing themselves in athletics or logic or both. Winifred was the lone wolf, but this wasn’t her narrative.
Jacqueline and Walker bonded over more than their shared childhood. For the record, they grew up a town away from each other on the rez and ended up in the same place too. Perhaps the number of available adoptive parents within their nation was down to one after all. And Sandria was far away from them! They lived near the border with Utah and we were nowhere near.
But they liked tinkering and inventing, if for different reasons. Walker was a boy who honed his mind on the smallest of moving parts. Jacqueline simply wanted to create. She wanted to imagine in a way that eluded real geniuses. I wouldn’t call her a dumb kid; she did well as a student and her essays at least weren’t copied from someone else. But intelligence is a vast ocean full of terrifying depths and crevices. Jacqueline was stuck in a sunny, lonely spot. She was floating atop a metaphorical Point Nemo.
They were eight years old and nothing could stop them from building machines together though. The workbenches were another donation to Sandria from Mr. McDermott’s woodshop. And to think I called him crusty! Apparently putting children at risk of fires and flying scrap metal was perfect.
The two of them quickly left Noam and Winifred to either pair off or never have a favorite sibling. Something was brewing in their game of wits and they left Sandria totally in the dark about it. It was better than other secrets siblings could keep.
“The only time thing you’ll make is a watch!” said Walker.
“Nuh-uh, I have the goodest plans. What’d you think we’d do?” Jacqueline asked.
“Another drinky bird?”
In all fairness, they were good at making them.
Being two nerds still made them different people. For one, Walker had friends, and if Jacqueline knew much about Shasta and Rosalyn she would’ve told me more. It was an uphill battle she was willing to fight.
The only kid who bit was Abner Shaw, a pretty little boy with dark hair and pouty lips. His parents had a reputation around town and not the best. He was born out of wedlock like the rest of his brothers and it felt like everyone was his mom’s ex boyfriend. But she settled down with the father of her children and I couldn’t judge that. The kid was a mean pillow fighter but Jacqueline was meaner.
She pulled her weight with the good half of their friendship. Jacqueline did better on homework and she ended up teaching him long division. She felt bad tagging him in tag. And she didn’t want to go over to the bad side of town when he insisted.
Yes, they were caught trying to get a beer as two kids. Abner insisted they could pass as little people and Jacqueline…didn’t even like beer. Not then, and not when she actually tried it as a teenager (Sandria’s treat!)
Abner was no stranger to tipping over his brother’s ant farm either, or giving him an “Indian rugburn” until he remembered what Jacqueline and her family was. Apparently “deskinning” was a more sensitive term. It stopped once Abner stopped being a snot-nosed little kid. Which was fast, he was a couple years older than Jacqueline.
Otherwise, she easily felt ignored. Chrystal still lived in town and actually liked the younger kids quite a lot. She even liked Jacqueline, but it wasn’t felt on the other side.
Then one of the boys threw a sleepover. She forgot if it was Noam or Walker.
They all congregated in the backyard where Jacqueline had a story to tell. Listening: Abner, Mikel King, Perry Rivera, and Xavier Nita-Hendrix.
“…and if you get lost in time, you die!” No one wanted to time travel after that. Something that Jacqueline built made a cactus pear she found disappear. Hopefully it went to a future without cactus pears, but the fruit may have been squashed too. Or dead. She wouldn’t say such a thing without prompting.
Sandria hurried everyone away for pizza and most of the kids forgot.
Plus, Jacqueline’s problem that night wasn’t that no one wanted to sleep in the same room as her. She just couldn’t sleep! Some thoughts could only come out in the form of blocks (they bought a new table).
Of course, everything could change for a teenager. For one, playing with blocks was frowned upon, though she’d still try to sneak it in. As therapy.
Jacqueline reveled in her new short hair. The style was in, and Sandria actually didn’t put up a fight. Her hair forever cascaded down her back and front, and existed as a tie to better memories of her youth and ancestry. But hair was a choice to be made in our times, even for indigenous children. The real fight was for forced haircuts. So at least Jacqueline could defend Walker and she swore to.
Nothing with Abner grew inappropriate. Nothing progressed past friendship either, not even with going to the poolside club in nothing but common swimwear. Jacqueline thought she looked great! She at least fit into the clothes she wanted to fit into. But did it even matter? Was she even trying to get a date with Abner?
It seemed like her own little world came first. That could crash down before anything with Abner did, but then again, he was one of the only friends who stuck by her. Perry Rivera was alright too but younger…and a proud gay boy from age eight to the present day as awkward teenagers. Jacqueline would never cross that line with him. Might as well cross that line with Noam too if she did.
Unlike with the older children, Jacqueline’s story converged with mine. She and Abner took history together, first period. Perhaps they were the only people who could wake each other up by 8am. Most of the time, a class with a couple in it was annoying. They weren’t because they definitively were not a couple. Or a particularly loud pair of friends.
In fact, it seemed like she mentored him to be a better student and person all the time. His grades were fine, and his tales of being a rude little kid shocked me. These two were the most level-headed I had met besides my teacher’s pet, Walker. Who had an easier romantic life with Shasta Northrop.
One of the last times they spoke was in the schoolyard. Anton Hudson was there, standing as a red herring. His boyfriend had detention.
And then it was silence from him. He got moved to another history period, which Jacqueline thought was just bureaucracy. I did too. Our guidance counselor handed me some transfer paperwork and I had no issues signing it. This was before our student-teacher meeting too, and no one brought it up.
Texts sat unanswered, the Shaws’ home phone went to message, and everyone was quiet about the Shaws in general. Jacqueline decided to keep building her time machine or more cow toys (her real favorite) until she remembered that she didn’t have any friends left.
There was no grand fight with Abner. So the mystery was something that a teenager could solve on her own. Jacqueline hopped on her bike towards the desert sunset and the dusty roads near the dried up lake.
Nothing had changed at the Shaw house, in spite of no cars being in the driveway. Then again, Ms. Shaw worked a late job. The dogs were the one constant.
Abner greeted her from the couch, but only with a thick grunt. In his defense, she dropped by unprompted.
“I have no idea what’s going on and I was too afraid to ask,” she said. No response.
“Come on, talk to me. You don’t need to make your face look like that.”
Jacqueline stood up. “I’m sorry if this had anything to do with me. I just wanted to be your friend.”
Suddenly, he grabbed her arm.
“I have no idea what’s going on either, but I’m tryin’ to be a better person and your mom doesn’t want me around, so I’ll do it.”
“What?”
“And my mom doesn’t want you around, so I’m glad you came when no one else was home but I need to leave some things behind.”
“This is sounding…too serious…I’m worried about you now,” she said.
Someone pulled into the driveway, lights flooding the dark house. Abner quickly whisked Jacqueline to the back of the house. He nearly threw her through the screen door before opening it.
“Shoo, get a burger somewhere, just make sure you’re not in the yard.”
“No one’s telling me anything!”
Jacqueline found her way to the safety of a warm street lamp. One that she and Abner used to hang out under a lot. One where she worked to improve his disposition…which seemed to work. He probably felt like he was being honest with himself.
“Fine, I have other friends!” She didn’t even need one hand to count them on. It was empty. She poured so much into him and he hadn’t spilled it all out yet. Just a few drips here and there. The encounter in the house was too short for much else.
There was always that night they tried to get a beer as children. It was still a terrible idea, but Jacqueline was almost ready to get her driver’s license. It was something that could be done in some other countries. And the same bar was just a short bike ride away.
“Please don’t tell anyone about this,” said Jacqueline. “I…I didn’t have a breakup but it felt like it.”
“Alright, we have one that looks just like an iced coffee.” Was it a Guinness? Of course it was a Guinness. What a poor way to be introduced to beer.
—
“And Sandria didn’t get you in trouble?”
“I didn’t tell her that part,” Jacqueline muttered.
“What do you think even happened with him?” I asked her.
“Sometimes…sometimes I think it was Winifred,” she said. “She doesn’t like Abner and he’s dating her girlfriend’s niece and it’s a mess, I know it is. I thought that friendship would be okay.”
“Well you need to find out the truth! Or even the teachers will gossip about it.”
“Oh no it was Winifred!” She started to cry. “And I’m not meant to fight!”
“Uh…I didn’t recommend that.”
Nope, she was off to her bedroom again. I felt like I saw Winifred go inside earlier, oblivious to our conversation. I’m sure she was used to it in a big house, and with a nosy teacher like I was becoming.
The ruckus started. I felt horrible for looking on in wonderment, but there was something at a standstill with Jacqueline and Winifred that was going to be much worse.
“So what? I didn’t want you wasting your time,” Winifred said. “I know that family way better than you.”
“But what about–”
“Oh god, shut up,” said Noam, blocking the two of them from tearing each other’s skin off. “Unless it’s about Abner.”
“Don’t worry, what else would it be?” Winifred rolled her eyes.
“How dare you mistrust her judgment?”
Oh god, I created a monster.