What's scary is when you've known someone for years, and then when adversity arises within your family or circle of close friends, and that person - that person who you've known since school, whose birthing of their children you've attended, birthday parties, weddings, funerals for family members, heartbreaks, divorces, and health-threatening sicknesses, is suddenly your enemy over a non-sensical issue. You realize after the fact and much too late that they were never your family or friends to begin with.
You were just an expendable piece of the puzzle called their life. Or so you thought.For years at our family reunions, the responsibility of organizing the event was always left up to me. We had it every five years, so as not to exacerbate anyone's financial situation. Which is why we always choose a park with a pavilion or a place that is not outrageously priced, such as a church or lodge hall. The food was always potluck. If it were a park, you could pitch your own tent. If it were indoors, we'd tolerate each other for two or three hours before packing up and going home. Simple. One year, the matriarch of our families decided that I needed a break and that by the next family reunion, I would announce my replacement, which was easily going to be my oldest daughter, or at least I thought so. Amythest made it clear, however, that she didn't want to have anything to do with it. We had time, though, because the reunion was held every five years, so there was a year left before the big announcement at the upcoming reunion. The short story is that my oldest sister, Marjie, began telling me in a condescending tone, "I'm going to take over organizing the reunion whether you like it or not."
"Mom said I'm making the announcement as to who that's going to be," I told her. "And it's not you."
For the rest of the year, it's as if Marjie became a complete stranger to me. She wouldn't talk to me, she'd leave the room whenever I entered, and when we were sitting for dinner, she'd take her plate and go eat outside. She began doing other things, such as blocking my car in the garage and not moving it until my father yelled at her. On the one day that my parents weren't home, and Marjie wouldn't move her car, I got her keys and moved it for her. When she saw what happened, she came screaming out the door and began punching me and kicking me. "Don't you ever touch my car, you fucking stink ass bitch!"
I balled up my fist and gave her an overhand right on the side of her eye, and knocked her on her ass. My parents drove up right at that moment, and my Dad had to intervene. I kicked my sister on her side really hard, for good measure. My Dad swatted me and my sister on the butt twice, even though we were already in our early forties. My parents dragged us back into the house and sat the two of us on the same couch.
"What the hell is the problem with you two?" Mom asked, totally exasperated.
"I don't know!" I shouted. "I haven't done anything to her, and out of nowhere, she starts coming after me and treating me like shit for no reason, and I didn't do anything to her! She hates me all of a sudden!"
"Well?" My father asked my sister. "Marjie, what's this all about with Kalena?"
"It's the stupid family reunion thing," I interrupted. "She's all mad about it."
"That's not what it is," Marjie countered what I said.
"Then what?" My mom was over it; soon, the wrong answer could provoke a beating even if Marjie and I were both wives and mothers.
"I overheard you and Dad that one night, in your room, talking," Marjie began.
"You were eavesdropping?" My mom was standing up from her bed, but my Dad calmly put his hands on her shoulders.
"What are you talking about, Marjie?" Dad asked while he and Mom sat down at the same time.
"That Kalena is not my sister," Marjie's eyes were filled with tears of anger. "All these years, Kalena has been the favorite, and I come to find out that she's not even my sister? You chose her over me, your real flesh and blood daughter, to be your favorite?"
"What exactly did you hear?" My mom was doing her best at that moment.
"We can never tell her she's not our real daughter," Marjie began to choke up. "That's what I heard you say!"
My Dad sighed as he stood up, rubbing his hands on his thighs. He walked over to Marjie and took her hands in his. "You heard the tail end of that conversation, Marjie. You're not our real daughter, Kalena is. We don't know who your real parents are, because one night we found you on our doorstep with a note, asking us to please take care of you, and to give you a good life."
"You owe your sister an apology," my mom told her.
"It appeared as if Kalena was our favorite, but that's not true. We love you both," my Dad began. "It's just that Kalena needs a bit more attention than you do, because she has a hard time focusing on any one task. We never had to worry about you, Marjie, because you're responsible and dependable."
"Wait, what?" I squealed at my folks. "I'm not dependable and responsible? I'm a wife and a mother! I run a household!"
"With our help, you do," my Dad chimed in while rubbing my back.
Before we knew it, Marjie was gone. My folks have long since passed, and we've never seen Marjie since that day. She disappeared, leaving Todd and the kids behind. Todd remarried a few years later and moved his new family to White Plains, New York. The responsibilities of organizing the family reunions fell into the lap of my third cousin, Sharla. My family and I took over the house once my folks passed away, but even then, Marjie never came to their services. My Amythest attended a trade school after graduating from Kaiser High School. She became an excellent pipe fitter, and that's all she cared about. That's where she'd meet her future husband, Mario. My husband, Theodore, didn't like Mario at first until he found out that Mario was Filipino on his mom's side. Mario was ok after that.
Theodore cried at the airport when our son Philius moved to Fargo, North Dakota, to be with his wife. They'd move home to Hawaii two years later, because it turned out that his Haole wife had grown up in Kailua and began missing home. Before then, I flew up one February to visit Philius. One day, while Phillius, Tandy, and I waited in line to pay for our groceries, I was struck by an unexpected sight. Marjie was the person bagging our groceries. I said nothing, I just stared at her for a long while. She didn't even look up at me; she just kept bagging our groceries until she moved on to the next customer. Neither Philius nor Tandy noticed me staring. We just walked back to the Wagoneer, loaded up the groceries, and drove back to my son's place. Later that evening, Marjie helped close out the store before finally clocking out and leaving through the front door. Getting a really good look at my sister, I saw that she looked lighter, not burdened and weighed down as she had been before. I saw her walking toward a Toyota Sienna van that was idling in the parking lot. The windows went down, and the side door slid open. Little, cute children let themselves out of the van and ran squealing into Marjie's arms. "Mommieeee, mooomieee!"
She knelt down and swooped them up into her arms, laughing with delight. She got into the back seat with her children, and the sliding door began to shut. I caught a glimpse of the man in the driver's seat. He's a nice-looking First Nations person who caught my eye and gave me a friendly nod and a wave. What beautiful children Marjie and this man made together. My sister noticed the exchange and looked in my direction. We locked eyes as the van door was sliding shut, and for a brief second, there was a look in her eyes that said, 'I'm sorry, but I'm happy now.'
I smiled and mouthed the words, 'I love you, sister.'
The van took off to the end of the parking lot, paused briefly, and then took the main road, driving off into the Fargo night. "Who was that, Mom?" Phillius asked from the passenger seat.
"That's my sister, your Aunt Marjie," I rubbed his arm and took his hand in mine, giving it a nice peck the way I always did since he was a little boy.
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