A. Rolland: Of Breakable Things

“Hmm. You wouldn’t appreciate it so much if your eyes had always been so open. Sometimes things only become clear when they don’t exist anymore.”

Alex listened to the trees whispering a song that sounded like her name. The trunks were so large it was like weaving through the legs of giants. Branches of the smaller, twig-like trees curled their fingertips in hello.

“They like you. I can tell.”

Alex caught up and fell into step next to her tiny companion, who carried an aura of comfort. She stole glances at him while they sloshed through the kaleidoscope of colors. His baby-fine hair fell over his chocolate-brown eyes and pale skin.

“Who are you?” she finally asked.

He kicked his feet up slightly while treading down the muddy pathway shining radiantly like a river of dark gold. “My name is Ellington Reynes.”

An inappropriate name. It was much too grown up for a boy who was doomed to look like a cub scout for the rest of his life.

“I’m the one who saw your arrival,” he informed her proudly.

“Saw it?”

“In my head. I’ve been seeing arrivals now for decades.”

Alex took in his babyish features. “How old are you?”

“Don’t be fooled by the bowl cut. I’m much older than you.”

“How old were you when you died?”

“Twelve.”

“You don’t even look ten.”

“I was short for my age.” he said, leading her to the bank of a torrential river.

Alex skidded to a halt. “Is there a bridge?”

Ellington stepped right onto the rolling tide and swung his arms playfully as he strode across. “We are the bridge!” The water acted as a crooked treadmill, carrying him downstream, but he remained unfazed and leaped casually onto the opposite bank.

“Your turn,” he called, spinning back around to face Alex.

She froze at the water’s edge. She couldn’t do this.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Laughter rose from the splashing current, and Ellington lifted his finger to his lips to hush it. “Go on,” he urged her, crouching down to watch with the expression of a father seeing his child taking a first step.

Alex bent to touch the water. Her outstretched fingers shook, making contact with the gelatinous surface. The shock of electricity from the river stung much more than the rain, and buzzed like a headache. She straightened up and stepped gingerly onto the water. Her body jerked to the left. She flailed her arms to steady herself, shuffling the rest of the way without lifting her feet.

“Nice job.”

“You made that look way too easy,” she said, tumbling to Ellington’s side.

“I’ve had more practice.”

Alex watched the water lapping and splashing the shore. “Could I still go in the water?”

“Be my guest.”

She pressed her fingers against the surface, which yielded somewhat but did not allow her to breach it. She raised her palms. Now what?

“Think a little harder about breaking the plane,” Ellington offered. “You need to use your mind. You’re weightless now, so you are going to have to use a little willpower.”

Alex nudged the water, but it was like pushing on putty.

“Try again.”

She concentrated harder. Finally her hand shot through the static goo, which felt like a breeze. She raked her fingers through the wonderfully unsettling energy. “Wow,” she breathed.

Ellington crouched down. “You’ll like it here.” He patted the water like a pet. “If you don’t mind me asking, what makes someone like you choose this alternative?”

“Someone like me?”

“Well, you weren’t exactly in love with life.”

Chase , Alex thought to herself. Even now, without knowing where Chase was or how long it would be before she saw him again, merely the idea of knowing it would happen was enough. If he existed in his world, they’d find each other.

Ellington pushed himself to a stand. “Besides the obvious reason.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I saw you arrive, I saw a few other things, too. It’s just something I’ve always been able to do. It’s kind of like watching a trailer for a movie. As the images appear, I get little bits and pieces of the person arriving, and then I wait for them.”

“Do they always show up?”

“No.”

“What did you see about me?”

“Chase.” He sighed. “All I saw was Chase.”

As a child, Chase couldn’t fathom the idea that his best friend was sick. Alex had too much energy. When he stood next to her, he could feel it like the static electricity he learned about in science class. So then how could she somehow have less life than he did?

He knew it was called Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, and he’d heard Alex’s doctor say things like type four and vascular and dangerous . He knew Alex’s mother had been sick with it, too. And her mother was dead.

“They don’t look any different to me,” Chase whispered to his mother. That morning they had driven into the city so Alex could attend some sort of meeting. There was a huge banner outside the Baltimore Convention Center that read Learning Conference: Living with EDS . Jonas had snorted and told Alex she was going to a freak show. Chase had punched him in the belly, and to his shock and amazement, his mother turned her head and didn’t scold him. And now, sitting outside the convention center, the people walking inside didn’t look strange at all.

“There are different kinds of EDS,” Danya explained to him, ruffling his hair. “Some are worse than others.”

“Worse than Alex’s?”

Danya shifted on the bench. “No. Alex has the worst kind.”

“She doesn’t look sick.”

“That’s because most of it is inside her body.” She pointed to his arm. “You have tissues in there. Don’t scrunch your face like that! They aren’t the same kind that you blow your nose with. Your tissues hold your body together. Alex’s tissues don’t work quite as well as yours.”

No kidding. One time he’d pulled on her arm to get her attention and her shoulder fell out of its socket. He’d cried the entire way to the hospital because he’d hurt her.

“In our tissues, we have something called collagen. And if collagen is like the glue of body, the normal person has liquid cement while Alex has cheap Elmer’s glue.”

“Is that why Jonas says that Alex was assembled at Kmart?”

His mother rolled her eyes. “Probably, but Jonas really shouldn’t say that. I’ll speak to him.”

Chase fiddled with the Velcro on the pocket of his shorts. “I still don’t get it.”

“What?”

“Why is it such a big a deal?”

“Tissues support your skin, which is why Alex bruises easily. And they hold your bones together, which is why hers are more likely to break.”

“But broken bones don’t kill you,” he argued. “Why did her mom die?”

His mother’s face crumbled, and he felt that pang in his chest that told him he’d said something wrong. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I just miss her.” Between her hands, she rolled a pamphlet she’d picked up that morning at the convention. “Tissues also support your organs. Like your heart. That’s an organ. The things inside you that keep you alive, and if they aren’t supported properly, you could bleed inside your body. That’s what happened to Alex’s mommy when Alex was born. They couldn’t stop the bleeding.”

“Is that why her dad hates her?”

“He doesn’t hate her.”

Chase looked at his mom doubtfully, but quickly shifted his attention to several people exiting the convention center. His heart fluttered in hope, but his friend wasn’t among them. He couldn’t believe his mother had made him stay out here instead of letting him go in with Alex. This was all Miss Petra’s fault. Their teacher was the one to suggest that Alex’s friendship with the Lasalles might be detrimental to her health. She was always trying to put them in separate groups during class or encouraging Alex to hang out with the other girls during recess. Thankfully, Alex ignored the suggestions. But within the past few months, Alex had broken three different bones during their adventures with his brothers. So her dumb doctor recommended she meet other kids who were “limited” too.