They'd all managed to find their way out of our house by the time we were ready for the evening church service — all except Dale that is. He sat in the seat of honor beside Father in the front of the Pinto, still in his sock feet. Mom and I sat on either side of Lelei scrunched into the back. When I look back at it now, I can't quite understand what happened. It might have been the headache I had from all that smoke and noise and too little sleep. Or it might have been the memory of Dale skulking up behind me and rubbing on me like some sex-crazed dog. Or it might have been that I'd simply gotten tired of it all, but whatever it was, I just snapped.
"You need to move over," Mom said. "Lelei doesn't have enough room."
"I'm propped up on the door handle as it is," I said. "There's at least and inch between me and her." I put my hand between us.
"You do what mother say," my father said from the front seat, and I just lost it.
"Do what she says!" I screamed. "I'm tired of doing what she says I'm tired of doing what you say! I'm tired of all of you, all your craziness, all your blaming me for Lelei, all your acting like everything's okay and it's all my fault. I'm sick of it all. Stop the car! Let me out!"
"Where you goin'?" Dale asked sleepily from the front.
"I don't know!" I screamed at him. "I don't care. Maybe I'll just disappear. Maybe I'll go back to Vietnam."
"Can I go?" Dale asked.
"You've never even been there so you can't go back," Lelei said softly beside me.
"That country dead," Father said from the front seat. "We at church. Now you go in and be good girl. No fight inside." He pulled into a parking space and shut the engine off. I was fuming.
We went in through the side door. Mom spied five seats together all the way to the end of a row of folding chairs in the back, and went stepping over people's feet, muttering, "Excuse us. Oops. Sorry," as she dragged Lelei along behind her. Dale had disappeared on the way in. I balked and sat down two seats from the end where we entered; I certainly wasn't going to climb my way over a half dozen people just to sit by two family members I loathed. Father motioned for me to move on in, but I simply pulled my knees in closer to let him pass. Unwilling to leave me there alone, he finally sat beside me, and there we were, a row of worshipers flanked by Nguyens &mdash Mother and Lelei on one end and Father and I on the other, separated by a half dozen members of the congregation.
The sermon was already in progress when we got seated, but I sat there too furious to listen. The same old mantra ran though my head. How could they be so blind? How could they protect her and blame me? How could they. . . I remembered another fight we'd had before church. We were teenagers then, but I'd never forgotten it. Lelei had a way of "borrowing" things without asking, and no matter how much I pleaded my things would just disappear. I'd find them later under her bed or in her drawer, and she'd say, "Well, if you think that's yours, then take it. That's what I do." But somehow I could never bring myself to actually take back my things. It just didn't seem right to adopt my sister's methods, especially when she'd never admit that the bracelet or headband had actually been mine in the first place.
"You go back in there and put a slip on," Mom said. "You're not going to church looking like that."
"I can't," I said. "Lelei has my slip on."
"I can see clear through your dress," Mom said. "Now go back in there and do like I told you."
"And I told you," I said, "That Lelei has my slip on." Lelei lifted her skirt a little and the yellow lace of my slip winked out at me.
"I found your little note," she said. "If you're reading this, then you must be stealing my slip again. Please, leave it alone. It's the only one I've got. I kept the safety pin, too." She smiled. But there wasn't a trace of mockery or guilt on her face. Just the simple statement: I found your little note. And that blank expression that she always wore.
Mom stood there, hands on her hips. "I'm not going to tell you again," she said, "You get in there and put on another one."
"But, Mother," I began, "That's the only one I have." Father stopped me short.
"You listen, do what Mother say," he said. "Hurry, we late." So I went back into the bedroom and put on a wool skirt so Mother couldn't see through it even though it was in the heat of the summer. The minister suddenly went silent, stopping in mid-sentence, and I realized everyone had turned to look at Lelei. She had risen and was standing there, her beautiful body lithe and strong, her hair gleaming in the florescent light. At last she spoke, and the voice of angels came softly from her mouth.
"You claim you have a spirit," she addressed the pulpit, then paused to slip her wrist under a strand of silkiness that had fallen across her shoulder. She gently flipped the hair back, and the congregation gasped as it rippled down, down, down the length of her back, down her long legs. "You say you have a spirit," she began again. "Well, I have a spirit too. His name is Frodo. He's about three-foot tall and very blue. A medium blue. Like the sky sometimes." She bent slightly and held her hand about three feet above the floor. "Frodo has inhabited me for seventeen years," she went on, walking around behind Mom and leaning forward across the chair back beside her. On and on, the beautiful voice went, holding the crowd spellbound. I sat listening with them, staring. On and on it went, music so magical you could almost see the notes flowing about as her hands silently orchestrated the air. The spell was cut finally when I heard Father's voice came from the door behind us.
"Lelei," he said firmly. Lelei paused and then went on. "Lelei," he said in a voice I had never heard before. She turned, and he motioned her toward him. By the time Mom and I got to the room behind the chapel, Lelei was sitting at a table with a glass of water in front of her. Small bubbles had gathered around the rim. Father stood before her, his hands planted, leaning toward her, looking deep into her eyes. "Lelei," he said clear and strong. Lelei stared into space, into herself, looking for Frodo. "Lelei?" he asked again. Then he stood, dusted his hands, and turned. "We go home," he said to us, and Mother went to him and began weeping on his arm.
At home we stood in the kitchen looking at each other, silent. At last he said, "We go to bed." He took mother by the arm. Then he turned back from the door and looked at me for a long, long time.
"You go too, " he said finally. "You go to bed."
In the guest room where I slept, I found a dozen pairs of dirty shoes, lined up neatly against the wall. Pair after pair of sneakers and cowboy boots and hiking boots. As I scanned the row I saw a pair of glittery pink sandals in the row with all the rest. When I lifted the left one, I saw that the heel had been chipped away, broken nearly off. I held the shoe, sat on the bed, and thought of Lelei. I could see her still, sitting at the table, the glass of water in front of her. She held her head high, her hair falling straight to the floor in a shiny river that curled up around the leg of the chair where it puddled behind her. Her hands were clasped in her lap, and her black almond eyes stared straight ahead into nothing. I rubbed my finger against the pink glitter strap of the sandal and a sharp piece came off, poking into my thumb. I felt the prick. Then I replaced the sandal beside its mate and crawled under the covers. That country dead I said as I drifted off into fitful sleep.