There was barely anyone on the highway. Tony felt it was a mixed blessing: he wanted to need to pay attention, to not think about things other than working within the flow of traffic, but he also wanted to get there quickly. He remembered something a teammate, Liam, had once told him: to be good, you have to always consider every possible outcome, but not expect any of them. Tony had thought, at the time, like it sounded like the kind of pseudo-philosophic crap that people spouted when they wanted to sound like they were saying something complex. Years later, though, and Tony had understood it. It was about knowing what could happen, every possibility, but preparing for there to be something, something probably worse, that you\u2019d been unable to imagine.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat the fuck?\u201d Marissa had been naked, hair still dripping from the shower. \u201cSeriously. What. The. Fuck.\u201d<\/p>\n
In his head, Tony ran through all the possibilities that could\u2019ve made her jump out of the shower to yell at him. There weren\u2019t many answers to the equation. \u201cUh?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour phone. Your fucking phone.\u201d And then he noticed it in her hand, as she jabbed it at him accusingly. He must have left his phone in the bathroom, sitting on the counter, allowing it to do something that turned Marissa into a wet ball of rage.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy phone did what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo putting the blame on your phone. My phone did it. It wasn\u2019t me.\u201d Marissa shoved the phone at him. Instinctively, he grabbed it. There were seven missed calls. All from Gia.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhoa, whoa, Riss. This isn\u2019t what you think,\u201d he began.<\/p>\n
Marissa was already turning back to the bathroom. \u201cWhat am I thinking? Because what I had been thinking was that you told me you talked to her about calling us. About asking for things.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t start this. I didn\u2019t call her,\u201d Tony said. But he could already feel his fingers itching to hit the Call Back button.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut, you\u2019re going to call her back. You\u2019re going to get her out of whatever shit she\u2019s in. And we\u2019re going to be down\u2026Whatever. Money. Sanity. Time. Whatever she needs.\u201d Marissa\u2019s shoulders slumped, the rage leaving her body. She stepped into the bathroom, quietly shutting the door, before he could answer.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
When she was five, Gia saved Tony\u2019s life. He was one, crawling on the floor and popped a button in his mouth. His mother, on the phone, never saw it. Gia did. She was playing with her Barbie and saw him cough, go red. She ran to him and copied something she had seen on a TV show that she probably wasn\u2019t supposed to be watching. The button came out. Tony lived. Their mother swept them both into her arms.<\/p>\n
The story was so intrinsic to their family, so trotted out at every gathering, that Tony could picture it even though he had no memory of the event. In his mind, he saw himself on the floor. He saw Gia run to him, acting so quickly that it seemed as if she was possessed. What five-year-old knows to perform the Heimlich? Knows to do it so gently that the baby is unharmed? He saw the button fly, black and shiny with spit, through the air. And Gia held him for a moment longer as he burst into infuriated squalls, as his mother ran to them.<\/p>\n
Tony always thought of the button first whenever he thought of Gia. In the hospital, after one of her events, he would think of the button as he talked to the doctors. He would think of the button as he signed papers, agreeing to pay her bills.<\/p>\n
His sister was not a healthy woman. Not sound of mind, their mother said. She said that was a kinder phrase than \u201cmentally imbalanced.\u201d When Tony was a teen, he pictured the phrase as someone tapping on Gia\u2019s head with a little drumstick. The sound it made was like a shrieking, like the clattering of a glass falling into a sink.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cHey, Tony, Tony, Tony,\u201d her voice was high, breathing clipped.<\/p>\n
\u201cGia,\u201d Tony said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI called you, you so many times. Ringing and you not picking up,\u201d Gia accused.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t have my phone on me, Gia. What\u2019s up?\u201d He kept his voice calm, breathing in and out loudly so that she could hear how breathing was supposed to sound.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou need to pick me up.\u201d Gia never phrased requests as if they were her own. \u201cI\u2019m at this hotel, no motel, no. Wait. What\u2019s the difference? Which one is \u2018h\u2019 and which one is \u2018m\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, the \u2018m\u201d has three curves down and the\u2014\u201d he began.<\/p>\n
She laughed. Her laugh was disorienting: like someone screaming but thinking they were having a good time. \u201cShut up. I\u2019m at the one where you pay by the week and the soap isn\u2019t fancy, it\u2019s just those little white blocks and there isn\u2019t even a name on it. Like it has no brand?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think that\u2019s a motel, Gia.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, then, I\u2019m at a motel and you need to pick me up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t even know you were in town. But okay.\u201d It was easy enough. He\u2019d pick her up. He\u2019d take her to their mothers. Then they\u2019d decided whether she needed to be checked in somewhere.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay, good. I\u2019ll wait here.\u201d Her breathing was still rushed.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow what\u2019s the name of the motel?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s called the Ames Inn. Inn! That\u2019s it. It\u2019s not a hotel or a motel. An inn.\u201d So pleased. Her breathing slowed finally.<\/p>\n
\u201cAmes?\u201d Tony could already hear Marissa. The way she\u2019d say his name, the mix of sadness and anger. \u201cAs in Ames, Iowa?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah. Duh. Where\u2019d you think I was?\u201d Gia began to hum.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2026 I thought you were in Madison. Here. Home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy\u2019d I need to be picked up, then? Sometimes you\u2019re just so dumb, Tony. I hate to say it, you know I love you, but it\u2019s like you don\u2019t have any sense.\u201d Gia sighed. In another life, it would be fun to hear the exasperated older-sister-tone in her voice. In another life.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019ll take me a bit to get there. But I\u2019m on my way. Just stay there.\u201d He hung up. He wondered about calling his mother. Then he thought of how drained she had looked over the past few years\u2014the way her strong jawline had been so permanently set into a frown that it now looked more severe than majestic, the white that creeped into her hair. He\u2019d call her once he knew what was what.<\/p>\n
The drive was almost five hours and it was already three PM. He thought about just leaving Marissa a letter, letting her come home to him gone and a sweet note. But, he thought there was a good probability that he\u2019d come home to divorce papers, his key no longer opening their front door, even a slight chance of his clothes sitting out in the parking lot. So he left her a voicemail, instead.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
He\u2019d been to Ames a few times. Back in college, they\u2019d played against the Cyclones a few times. He never quite got the team mascot: a bird named after a tornado. Shouldn\u2019t it have just been a personified tornado? That would\u2019ve made more sense. In the Sweet 16 the year of the Final Four, he\u2019d even become friend with the Cyclone\u2019s point guard\u2014Marcus. He liked that about basketball; it always seemed less antagonistic than other sports.<\/p>\n
Marcus wrote him a long e-mail after the loss, later, said some kind things that he seemed like he meant. Tony had appreciated the thought, the general decency, but had never written back. Not out of choice, but out of Gia. By the time, she\u2019d gotten through the flip-out she\u2019d been working on, it felt weird to write back.<\/p>\n
The drive was easy enough: lot of flat, flat, flat, and then some fields. He stopped in Dubuque for gas and a chalupa from Taco Bell. It tasted like salt, grease, and things he\u2019d rather not think about. The sky was already going dark and he still had three hours to go.<\/p>\n
He wondered what some of his former teammates were doing with their lives, he\u2019d fallen out of touch with so many people over the years. Marissa had kept in closer contact with some, the other player girlfriend\u2019s she\u2019d been friends with, but she rarely spoke about them\u2014other than an occasional did you hear Lonna Blake had a baby? or have you seen how chunky Gretchen Iles got? She was so fucking skinny. And now look at her!<\/p>\n
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the bridge, lit up and filled with a slow progression of rush hour cars. The way the lights bounced down to the water below made him think of gemstones.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Tony was seventeen, the first time that Gia threw herself from something. She\u2019d been acting strange that whole year, even before having graduated from college in the spring. Gia, up to that point, had just been his big sister\u2014sweet, feisty with their mother, gregarious. There\u2019d been signs of trouble that they never really thought to much of: a penchant for strange dreams, screaming nightmares more than occasionally. But nothing that seemed worrisome, nothing that seemed serious.<\/p>\n
Later, her college roommate would tell them how she\u2019d found Gia one morning weeping in their kitchen. Her whole body was shaking, and she was pounding on the floor, so hard her hands were leaving bloody marks. I thought she was possessed.<\/p>\n
He was practicing his jump shot in the driveway, when his mother came running out. She was a beautiful woman, stately some people called her, but in that moment she looked like she\u2019d been dead a week and had just crawled out of her own grave.<\/p>\n
\u201cMama?\u201d he said. And, even years later, he would remember how soft, squeaky his voice came out.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ve got to go, Tony. Gia\u2026She\u2026\u201d His mother shook it off, went to the car, and he followed her.<\/p>\n
They didn\u2019t talk the whole drive. His mother clutched the steering wheel, knuckles so white that they didn\u2019t look like they could belong to the rest of her body. Tony felt his stomach clenching up, worse than the worst gas cramps he\u2019d ever had. He\u2019d get used to the feeling, eventually.<\/p>\n
The bridge wasn\u2019t a particularly tall one and the river wasn\u2019t one that rushed and raged. Still. It was a bridge. It was a river. There was a drop from one to the other. Gia was on the railing, standing up, her feet bare, toes curled slightly around the metal bar. People were all around. A cop car had its lights flashing, though the siren was off.<\/p>\n
They got out of the car and ran up to the bridge.<\/p>\n
\u201cGia!\u201d His mother yelled. \u201cGia!\u201d<\/p>\n
Gia didn\u2019t turn, she pushed herself upwards, almost on tiptoes. It\u2019d\u2019ve looked almost extraordinarily impressive and athletic if it wasn\u2019t so bottom-of-the-stomach frightening.<\/p>\n
\u201cGia\u2026\u201d Tony meant to shout, but his voice came out a whimper.<\/p>\n
Still Gia heard him, she turned. A skillful spin. \u201cSave me,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
And then she leaned backwards and was gone.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Tony\u2019s phone rang. He glanced at the Caller ID: Marissa. Pulling over, he answered. \u201cHey.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTony.\u201d She said his name like it was an elongated sigh.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry, babe. I can\u2019t not.\u201d They\u2019d had the fight a few times. Marissa had loved his sister at first, during Gia\u2019s good years. Gia would visit and do Marissa\u2019s hair. The two of them like sisters, giggling and gossiping.<\/p>\n
The first time there was an episode, Marissa had cried. She\u2019d been so worried. The second time, she\u2019d still cried. By the seventh, when Tony was at another hospital, talking to another doctor about why his sister wouldn\u2019t stay on her medication, Marissa hadn\u2019t even come with him. Tony, she needs to take her pills. To have some goddamn accountability. It\u2019s not just her life. There\u2019s you and your Mom and Gia acts like a child refusing her fucking penicillin.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have to stop, Tony.\u201d Marissa\u2019s voice shook. \u201cShe\u2019s your sister, but she\u2019s never going to stop ruining your life. She\u2019s like a walking emergency room.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s my sister, Riss. That should be enough for you,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cOne day, you\u2019re not going to get there fast enough. You know that, right? One day you\u2019re not going to save her and you\u2019re going to feel so guilty and it will break you and she won\u2019t care. She\u2019ll be gone and she won\u2019t care what she\u2019d left behind.\u201d Marissa\u2019s voice cracked, congested sounding, weak.<\/p>\n
Tony hung up.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cThey make me dream in black and white,\u201d Gia had said. Tony was twenty and it was basketball season and he needed to get out on the court for practice or coach would cut his minutes.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe pills, they take all the color out of my dreams and, sometimes, Tone, I\u2019m walking outside and I think I hear something. It\u2019s like a car beeping, you know, like when you left your keys in the ignition and it\u2019s that beep beep beep? And then I realize that its birds singing and their songs sound mechanical and I know that it\u2019s the pills. That they\u2019re slipping into reality and they\u2019re draining every day, too, and not just my dreams. Do you know what I mean?\u201d Gia\u2019s voice sounded like an empty room: hushed but waiting to be filled with life.<\/p>\n
Tony wanted to answer her right. But he saw a teammate, Liam, poking a head into the locker room, eyes worried. Liam motioned with his head, a single jerking movement, for Tony to get out there.<\/p>\n
\u201cGia, I\u2019m going to think about that. I\u2019m going to see if I can figure out what you mean and then I\u2019m going to call you back, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay, brother. Call me back. Play hard. Win games. Be exceptional.\u201d It used to be a joke between them: who could say the most platitudes at the end of phone calls.<\/p>\n
\u201cLove you, sis,\u201d Tony said.<\/p>\n
\u201cLove you, love you,\u201d she replied. He didn\u2019t know if she was still playing the game.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
It took him awhile to find the Ames Inn. The city was more built up then he remembered and the Inn was tiny, nondescript. He called her to get the room number but she didn\u2019t pick up. The cramping in his stomach almost didn\u2019t hurt anymore.<\/p>\n
In the main office, the woman behind the desk looked like she belonged in a movie about stereotype librarians. She even had her glasses on a chain around her neck.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m looking for my sister. She said she was staying here. Gia Carrola?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s in room eight. She\u2019s your sister?\u201d The woman looked him up and down, not suspicious but something else.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy big sister, yeah.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs she alright?\u201d the woman asked. Her voice soft, worried, hoping to help.<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes,\u201d Tony said. He turned and left.<\/p>\n
Room Eight was the last one in the first-floor hall. He knocked on the door.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Once, when he was twelve, he\u2019d woken up to find Gia in his bedroom. She was sitting on the corner of his bed. It was before everything. When they were still just a normal family, or as normal as any families ever are.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s up?\u201d he mumbled. He wanted to go back to sleep, go back to dreaming of the NBA team he\u2019d one day play on.<\/p>\n
\u201cI had a bad dream. You were turned into a tree and I couldn\u2019t find you. I was in this whole big forest and there were so many trees and I couldn\u2019t find which one was you. Somebody had said you were a you-tree and that didn\u2019t seem helpful at all,\u201d Gia said. Her voice shook, like she was about to cry, but her face was dry.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, Gia, a yew tree. Y-E-W. It\u2019s a specific kind of tree. I know what they look like.\u201d He yawned, not covering his mouth.<\/p>\n
Gia laughed, the shake gone. \u201cTony, I needed you in my dream. You could\u2019ve helped me find you!\u201d<\/p>\n
He laughed, though he wasn\u2019t sure why. It was just like he needed to be laughing with her. She stood up, punching him once lightly on the shoulder, and then she left. He fell back into his dreams easily.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
He knocked on the door. Gia opened it slowly. She looked worse than ever: hair unwashed and everywhere, the sleeves of her shirt were ratted from fretting, the skin around her eyes was so dark it looked like she\u2019d been punched.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou came,\u201d she said. She stood back, so that he could walk inside the room. It smelled like Gia had been there awhile: sweat and stale grease from leftover fast food. She walked to the bed and sat down on it. He followed her, sitting down on the very edge of the mattress. The blankets were strewn about in tangled heaps. It looked like she fought people in her sleep.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you need Gia?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
She shrugged.<\/p>\n
They sat in silence for a few moments. He noticed her fingers playing with something.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you got, Gia?\u201d<\/p>\n
She held up a button. It was black and shiny and for some reason, if he had to guess, he\u2019d say that it was the button from a coat.<\/p>\n
He reached to take it from her but she shook her head. She opened her mouth and put the button on her tongue, like a flat piece of licorice. \u201cCan you save me?\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded and, so, she swallowed.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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