Hive Ave Fall2024 - Flipbook - Page 48
Fiction
Hive Avenue Literary Journal
sister outside to look on the garden. She hung back in the doorway, nudging a loose stone across the step with her toe. When
the argument came to a head, Beth sighed. She couldn’t take
it anymore. She stomped across the grass so determined that
later she found lines of chlorophyll green stained to the bottoms of her feet.
Patty had not expected her sister to blow up in the middle
of her and her mother’s argument. Truthfully, she didn’t pay
Beth much attention anymore. They’d been close when they
were young, but as Patty’s resentment grew for her mother, that
closeness slowly stretched into a considerable distance. Patty
didn’t engage with Beth much after it became clear she either
didn’t have a side in the feud or worse, defended their mother.
When Beth came alive instead of fading to the background like
a ghost—like Patty had grown to expect—Patty grew jealous.
Even her own twin sister had been stripped from her, and worse,
by their mother. Patty and Beth were twins—weren’t they supposed to have a bond like no other? Wasn’t she supposed to
side with Patty in everything, even when she disagreed? Hadn’t
Patty started o昀昀 doing the same for her, when they were young
and still inseparable?
Patty stepped back from her mother and sister, horri昀椀ed
to face the distance she’d pushed between herself and the pair
of them. Patty worried that her mother and sister had become
best friends. What if they hated Patty like she sometimes hated
herself? What if they wanted her as gone as she sometimes
wished her mother to be, on the hard days when they couldn’t
get along in the slightest?
Patty, for once, found herself without a thing to say as her
mother and Beth stood together, staring back at her with similar expressions on their faces. Patty realized suddenly how alike
the two of them looked now. It was a likeness that had unfolded
over time, appearing more and more each year to reinforce this
fear she couldn’t shake: that she was crafting her own undoing.
That her mother and sister had formed a bond that thrived in
her absence. If this fear had been realized, she thought, what
was the point in her staying?
6
That night, a new moon emptied the sky. A delicate breeze
rustled among the rows of the garden. Patty lay awake atop the
comforter she’d stretched over her bed, corners wedged beneath
the mattress to remain neatly made. Beth gave a questioning
look when she’d noticed Patty tidying her bed instead of getting into it messily, like usual. But she’d said more than enough
for the day, content to ignore her sister’s strange behavior in
silence. She was still upset with Patty for picking yet another
昀椀ght with their mother that morning.
Patty remained still in her bed, trying to maintain even
breathing. She could feel her sister awake, restless in the bed
next to her. She knew Beth wasn’t likely to fall asleep if she
thought Patty was still up. Patty waited, surprisingly patient.
She needed Beth asleep for her plan to work. She lay, muscles
tense, hesitating. Some unacknowledged part of her willed Beth
48
to stay awake, forcing her to stay. But soon, her sister coaxed
her body into the realm of sleep.
Patty remained awake, listening as Beth drifted farther
and farther into sleep. When she was sure a dream had hold of
Beth’s attention, Patty sighed. Now she couldn’t blame someone else for her staying. She wasn’t ready to make that decision
on her own. Instead, she rose and pulled the bulging backpack
from beneath the bed frame. She walked lightly through the
house in her socks, pausing at the edge of the porch to sit and
tie Beth’s boots. Beth was taller and had bigger feet, but Patty’s
boots had holes and a torn shoelace. Beth’s boots were nicer,
probably because she hardly used them.
Patty tied the laces into tight, double knots. She adjusted
the backpack straps on her shoulders and took a deep breath.
She started forward, darting between the rows of the garden as
she made her way away from the house. She stayed focused on
what lay ahead of her, refusing to look back. More than 昀椀nding
her sister’s gaze, she feared she would see her mother watching
from a window, making no move to stop her from running away.
7
Patty crossed the far perimeter of the garden, and a few
yards later, left her family’s property. She walked across the
street, moved aside the branches of sumac huddled together
beneath the trees that leaned closest to the crumbling asphalt,
and faded into the woods. She walked lightly, quietly, stepping
around dry branches and tall grasses. She imagined herself a
fox loping beneath the canopy, comfortable in the thick of her
solitude.
The 昀椀rst hour passed slowly as Patty maneuvered her sore
shoulders beneath the straps of her backpack. They bit into
the muscles of her shoulders sharply—a menace she hadn’t
expected. Her supplies had added up quickly and weighed
more, it seemed, with every few yards she advanced among the
foliage.
Sticky with sweat and panting, Patty paused for a drink.
She 昀椀shed the compass from her pocket and checked to be
sure she still traveled her path. She planned to move north until
she found the railroad tracks that cut through the countryside.
She’d follow them until she found a new town to live in. The
compass showed north, but the needle angled slightly to the
east now.
She’d have to work her way westward just a hair as she
continued onward if she wanted to stick to the course she had
mapped in her brain. In truth, this map was the equivalent of
something hand-drawn in varying shades of wax crayon. The
map Patty followed was of her own creation, based on a childhood of roughly-placed landmarks that may or may not have
existed where they did in her memories, some of them foggy,
some of them not. Still, Patty trusted herself more than anyone
else—perhaps more than she should have.
8
Another two hours of trekking through the thick foliage,
