its way up to my room, followed by mother’s Leu de Temps perfume, as she poked her nose in the door to say good night. “Good night, Ivey Mae. Sweet dreams. I love you and don’t worry. Do what your sister tells you. We are going out to dinner with Auntie and Uncle. See you in the morning.”
After lining my brand new closet with Wacky Pack stickers and chewing all fifteen big slabs of gum at once, this room I didn't have to share started feeling a little too big and way too quiet. Jumping up, I looked for Lucy. Running down the hall I turned left and skipped awhile down another long, forest green hallway. The thick softness beneath my feet was great. I couldn't resist and dropped to roll the complete distance to her door. I wondered if she felt scared way back there. I would have.
"Hey, what ya doin’ mildoin?" I asked, probably a little too loudly, as I rolled through her door, pushing it aside with my feet.
My sister, with her long blonde hair, smiled, while peering over her book at me. I continued to roll on her carpet, just as plush as mine, but soft daffodil yellow.
"I'm reading,” she said, amusement obvious in her tone. “What are you doing? Rolling around the house? Be careful of the stairs, Ivey Mae. That’s all we need—for you to fall on your head, the first night here."
My sister then closed her book to watch me in amazement as I maneuvered the huge wad of gum in my mouth and continued to roll on her floor, as if no one was watching. Chuckling she asked me, “What in the world do you have in your mouth? Is that gum?”
“Bubblegum,” I laboriously replied around the wad, and she laughed.
“How many pieces are you chewing?”
Pausing only momentarily, I rolled over to her matching, mirrored closet doors and admired the bright pink wad of sugar in my mouth. “Well, I opened fifteen packs of stickers to line my shelves, and I’m chewin’ the gum.”
“At once? Those are not pieces of gum: those are thick slabs of gum. I don’t see how you fit it all in there together,” she told me, still smiling, but shaking her head. Then she added, “Didn’t Mother tell you not to hang anything on your walls?”
“I didn’t. I just put stickers in my closet. And yeah, my jaw is getting a little tired. This place is really cool. It's so big though. Are you a little scared?" I asked.
"Scared of what? Scared of Mother, after she gets a look at what you did to your closet? No, I’m not afraid. But maybe you should be.”
“No, no. Aren’t you afraid of somebody gettin’ us?”
“Don’t worry, Ivey Mae: if somebody ever got you, they’d bring you back because they wouldn’t know what to do with you. And besides, the doors are locked, and Dad installed an alarm system. It won't seem so big and rambling once all of the furniture gets here. We are very fortunate, Ivey Mae."
"I know. I know. But having those doors in my room that go straight out back is kind of creepy. And the lake looks black at night; it scares me. Can I sleep in here with you tonight?”
"That’s fine. After we eat, go get your blankets."
Lucy put down her beloved book, and we walked the hall together, but only for a moment; then I dashed to the top of the stairs and counted how fast I could make it down.
While eating, all of us decided that for the first night in our new home we preferred to be together. Mother and Dad were out to dinner, and there was so much more space than we were used to that we all felt a little lonely. Improving on the pot roast and vegetables that mother left us, Lucy fried us homemade doughnuts, dipping them in sugar and cinnamon. Then we got our things and met back in Lucy Lea's room to watch TV.
It didn’t take long for the excitement of the day to catch up with us, and each one drifted off to sleep, all seven of us in my sister’s queen-size bed.
Around midnight, as the story goes, my parents returned home. Climbing the stairs, they went first to check on the baby in her nursery, and the crib was empty. Next they went to my brother’s room, and there was no one in his bed either. The same happened for me and my other sisters, until lastly, they walked down the long green hall to the very back of the second floor. And there they found us, snuggled in and sound asleep, amongst a sea of yellow bedding and big down pillows.
Lucy Lea was the only one awake, reading her book by the glow of a flashlight as she heard Dad whisper to Mom in the dark. "Well, Slim—I woulda never built this big ol’ house if I knew they were gonna pile up in here like a bunch of puppies."
Four: It’s Not A Tumor
Several years ago when the twins were just babies, we were in Key Largo for spring break. Swinging back and forth in the hammock, I am nowhere to be found as my mind wallows in desperate worry. Vacation or not, I simply cannot relax. I know something is terribly wrong. Possibly fatally wrong. Checking again as I have countless times over the last couple of weeks, I close my eyes, while placing a finger in each ear to muffle outside noise. Yep, no doubt about it: ringin’ in my ear.
I open my eyes to see Dad standing on the top step, leading from the house. He is staring at me in concern. "Ivey Mae, why don't you just call the doctor? Leave the babies here with us and drive back to Miami. Have your ear checked out, and then you can have some fun. "
As usual Dad is right.
Bad news is I have tinnitus in one ear, and the condition will most likely stay there for the rest of my life. Good news is, this is a very mild case, it should not worsen, and my hearing is excellent. The latter is really positive info because my hearing is so good that once I adjust, I shouldn’t be bothered by the buzzing in my ear.
So for the drive home, I am most certainly relieved and ready to fully participate in the family vacation. Here I come. And like always, I call Lucy Lea.
"Hello," she answers, sounding just like me, and all of our other sisters. I quickly update her, and she says "God, Ivey Mae, why do you do this to yourself? Must you always convince yourself you have a brain tumor and are facing a horribly painful and crippling end of life over something much less complicated and life threatening?"
"That's true. That's exactly what I thought. Why else would I have ringing in only one ear? I thought if it was simple in would be in both ears."
I think I can hear her roll her eyes 200 miles away. "OK, so now that you found out you will just have ringing in your ear the rest of your life . . . you feel better."
"Right."
Five: Whoever The Hell You Are
Apparently my sisters and I got an identical match of DNA when it comes to our vocal chords, because we all sound interchangeable when we speak. Our voices, intonation and tone are so similar that we feel each other’s presence many times a day. Lucy says she can hear her own self in me, when I leave a voice message on her phone. Many times mid- sentence, I will hear her in the sound of my words, and she is two hundred miles away. Maybe this is why I talk to myself—just to hear the sound of my sisters.
Growing up in
