I’m All Ears

If you give parents the benefit of the doubt, sometimes they might surprise you…

It started out the way so many of these things do: A slice of potato, a needle and a cigarette lighter. Piercing my ears against my parents’ wishes was the ultimate act of rebellion, in my thirteen-year-old mind.

My sister was all for it, in the beginning. Sadie was a saint. She always had my back. Sadie was more than just my identical twin. She was my best friend and my savior, always willing to run interference to hide my rebellious antics. Like the pierced ears. Sadie chose to remain unpierced, and stood in for me when I hid to avoid my parents until my ears healed and I could remove the earrings around them. And when my amateur piercing job went bad and my ears turned scarlet with infection, Sadie was there for me.

It was the same with the tattoo. And the nose ring. And then the numerous tattoos that followed. Luckily, by that time we had moved far away from our conservative Christian parents and I didn’t have to face their judgment.

We took turns attending family functions, although it was always Sadie who went. Half the time she was herself and the other half she posed as me, always with an excuse as to why we couldn’t show up together. When excuses about having to work wore thin, we told our parents we had adopted a dog, and Sadie posed for photos with our neighbor’s Jack Russell terrier.

I wished I could have just been honest with them, but I knew they’d disown me if they saw what I really looked like. And if they saw me, then Sadie’s role in our lifetime of lies would also be exposed. I couldn’t do that to her. Family was more important to Sadie than anything.

I studied my reflection, glimpsing the glint of the Christmas tree in the room behind me. I liked what I saw, but imagined the horror on my mother’s face when she saw the 2-inch discs that had replaced those DIY holes I’d bored so many years ago. As a professional body piercer, it was good business to advertise my wares, and of course I’d acted as my own guinea pig during my training. I was proud to say I’d done many of my piercings myself. Metal glittered in my nose, lips, cheeks and eyebrows. In addition to the discs in my stretched-out earlobes, I had nine more holes in my ears, decorated with an artful array of rings and studs.

My phone rang in the other room. It was probably Sadie, telling me she’d arrived safely at Mom and Dad’s house. I checked the number and saw that I was correct; it was my parent’s phone number. I answered, expecting to hear Sadie’s voice, but it was Mom.

“Annie?”

 “Um…yeah.” Something wasn’t right. How did she know?

“Hi, Mom. I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it. It’s just…work is so busy this time of year. I promise I’ll make it for Easter.”

“Oh, Annie! Thank the Lord you’re ok!” I heard a sob on the other end.

“Mom? What is it? Is Dad ok?” My father’s health had been poor, and the last I’d heard he was battling a respiratory infection.

“Yes, he’s fine. Honey, it’s Sadie. I just got a call from the police. There’s been an accident. Sadie is…” My mother broke into sobs. “I’m so relieved to hear your voice! I thought you were together. I thought I’d lost you both. Sadie’s gone. Thank Jesus you’re okay!”

* * *

Throughout the flight home, my mind churned through what was likely in store for me at Sadie’s funeral.

There would be the shock and disappointment on my parents’ faces when they say me for the first time in my tattooed, pierced, blue-Mohawked glory, followed by their understanding of my absence, and then finally the anger: Anger at my selfishness that sent my sister to her death; anger that she was the one in that car instead of me.

There would be my parents’ desperate attempts to hide their humiliation on front of all the friends and family, painfully aware of every shared glance and whisper. My own humiliation and grief would be inconsequential; after all, I was the cause of it all.

I was surprised they were allowing me to attend at all.

But then again, they didn’t know. Not yet, but soon the truth would be laid bare. I feared my mother’s reaction the most. My father was the quiet type; I expected a disapproving silence from him, but my mother… Mom was outspoken enough for both of them, and I’d always been a little bit afraid of her.

I felt naked; raw as a fresh tattoo inside and out. If only I could turn back time. What would my life have been like if I’d never pierced my ears that first time? Perhaps Sadie would still be by my side and I would have enjoyed the same relationship with our parents that she did.

I half hoped the plane would crash and spare us all what was to come. But no such luck. The flight attendant instructed us to prepare for landing.

This was it. My mother waited on the other side of those doors, and for the first time my sister Sadie wouldn’t be there to cover for me.

* * *

Mom looked so much older and it dawned on me how many years had passed since I’d seen her in person. I wanted to turn and flee, but had nowhere to run.

I braced myself for the worst.

“Annie!” My mother’s arms enveloped me and I felt her shudder as I returned the hug.

“Mom,” I managed, before dissolving in a cascade of tears.

“I’m so glad you finally came.”

I held my mother close and sobbed into her jacket. The years fell away and all at once I was five years old, terrified of my first day of school.

Finally Mom stepped back and held me at arm’s length, studying me.

Here it comes. I ducked my chin in shame.

She smiled through her tears. “Looks like we have some catching up to do.”

“It’s a long story,” I began.

“I’ll bet it’s an interesting one.” She cocked her head and I caught the glint of metal beneath her hair. Pierced ears? On my oh-so-conservative mother? This was a side of her I’d never seen before.

“I’m not sure where to begin,” I said.

She placed an arm over my shoulders as we walked toward the baggage carousel.

“I’m all ears.”

Copyright © 2018 Mandy White