Natasha 11: Bill's Memory

Bill didn't seem to have any special talent like his sister Susan, but for as long as he could think, he could remember the things that nobody else cared to, like birth dates of strangers, addresses, the serial number on the box of Wheaties that he ate out of each morning, and in this case, license plates. It's not that he tried to remember, it's just that if he saw it, then the numbers just seemed to stick with him indefinitely.

He was awkward the way his sister used to be. They just didn't seem to get the fashion gene or the social bug. But Susan had changed herself somehow, reinvented. Bill hardly noticed the change, it was so gradual, until he looked up one day and truly she was a star, at least in his eye. He loved his sister, and would do anything for her. He would fight for her is she needed it, but since he was the baby and smaller than her in their childhood she often fought his battles. Not that she was trying to, she just always happened to be there. As you can imagine, Susan has never been that much of a fighter but she could commit to a moment. And if in that moment her and Bill had to fight to keep him from being bullied everyday, then Susan would fight and fight she did, wild and unyielding swings that often threw her down. But she showed up daily like clock work at lunch time, just to "fight" for her brother.

Nobody else would have called what she did, fighting. It was more like some wild, tribal dance with a secret message hidden deep inside. It's not that she scared anybody away, she was just persistent. For as long as they wanted to take her brother's lunch or steal his homework or put him in the locker, then Susan wanted to "fight." She showed up like clockwork for 31 days. On day 32 they called a truce that lasted right into adulthood. And somehow they developed some weird friendship with Bill looking out for them in the classroom and the ex-bullies looking out for him in the hallway . . .

"You can't do their homework for them!"

"Well that's what they want!"

"So! You can't do their homework for them." Susan said leaning in close this time, "That's wrong and besides, they still have control. Bill, they are going to have to treat like a friend, leave you alone all together or we are going to have to fight again."

"I don't want to fight again!"

"I don't either, but you will not be bullied and controlled by people. So, you cannot do their homework and if you do, then you and I will fight every day."

"Why are you doing this?!"

"Because I love you. You're a man and men are not supposed to be controlled by their fears. Real men conquer fears." It was something she heard on an inspirational tape and believed. That's how she learned and that's how she taught her brother, her mom was always working and just waiting for her to graduate from High School, so that she could go to work too and help out with the bills. She didn't even know that Susan could sing.

"But I'm no man Susan, I'm only 13."

"We might as well get started now Bill--"

"Bill Thingerson, Mr. Bill Thingerson, Mr. Bill-"

"Yes, I'm right here."

"You can see her now." The nurse smiled as she walked away. That smile made him believe that everything would be fine. Just the same, Bill was still a little freaked out about seeing her. What if she was dying and this hospital visit exposed a secret malady that they never knew she had. Yes, he had ridden over in the ambulance but had been sitting in the waiting area for the past half hour and his imagination ran wild . . .

"Hey boy!"

"What's wrong with her."

"Pain pills."

"She's high!"

"She is medicated so that she doesn't feel the pain."

"She's high."

"High and flying baby. That's me."

Bill burst out into laughter and Susan laughed too, because he laughed. At this point she couldn't tell what was funny and what wasn't. She would feel tomorrow, as for today, she would imitate her baby brother and laugh.