The Big Shot

“Are you ready for your shot?” I asked playfully. Then winced. Because that was a little mean. Even for a teasing sister.

“It didn’t hurt last time,” she smiled and drooled a little bit. But her gaze landed on me for a moment. And I smiled.

“But it might hurt this time,” I wasn’t trying to be mean, really. But I wanted her to be ready.

“I know. Because I can feel again!” she said proudly.

“Hmm,” I said, “So you weren’t sad that time you were crying over the color of your new car?”

“Hey, I’m not selfish!” she countered, “It’s just that- the color gray reminded me of the stray cat we saw a few years ago. It’s so sad. How not everyone has a home,” she teared up a little bit.

“He might even let you drive again soon, you know,” I added, “Do you think you’re ready for that?”

“Of course! Because I am independent!”

“You sure are,” I smiled.

We spent the rest of the day with her curled up in her blanket. With her glancing feverishly around. And I would make her laugh again. And then she’d get scared again…

It was nice. Much better now. For her to be in a loving and open environment.

We even got to go out for ice cream together. I drove, of course. She was getting better at car rides now. And I let her pay. She got a little confused about counting the change, but it would be good for her to get used to thinking again.

“Time for homework,” I said.

“I know where we are,” she snapped, then softened, “I know we’re outside eating ice cream and it’s dripping all over your face!” she laughed.

“Very good,” I chuckled, “So no dark void? Or blinding light or anything.”

Not today.

And those are not the only memories of course. But they are the best ones. And I hoped she would remember them. Even after her shot. Even after I go away to college. And she stays at home with mom.

Big sister, I hope you can read my mind.

She grinned at me. It was uncanny sometimes. Some days I wondered if she really could read minds like she insisted she could.

But her gaze was empty.

And that I would not miss.

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