Call Me Blackbird

I'm a little too into Sci-Fi. Every time Yvette would say the words, "Maybe we can make some memories," I would cringe and assume she wanted to hook me up to some weird futuristic machine and implant memories in my head. I cringe, just thinking about it. I now sit at a table in a large dining pavilion, eating garlic shrimp and chicken alfredo with a dessert of vanilla cake topped with a small little vanilla wafer cookie on top while drinking Sprite. Life is good for now.

I glance at North having the time of her life, laughing and smiling only to reveal her tongue piercing. Fifteen piercings. That I can see. Knowing North she probably has a belly button piercing too. Yvette brings a birthday candle to the table. The candle says seventeen on it. I realize that it's my birthday, November 6th. I also realize that I get to spend my birthday with Yvette.

She puts the candle on the cake and lights it. "Make a wish, Little Bird," she says. I think for a second. Please let Yvette be okay, and let the next BlackBird be just as good as her. I blow out the candle. Everybody claps and cheers and I feel embarrassed but happy at the same time.

Yvette smiles at me. "Follow me," she says. I get up and follow her, simultaneously looking around the crowd. Finally, I get to the stage where Yvette is. "Everyone lend me your ears," she says into the microphone. Kids from the age of maybe six years old and up and adults to the age of maybe a maximum of forty-five, look at her. She looks around as a commander should, with respect for everyone in the room, but with a demand that respects back.

"This is my daughter, Laurel," she says motioning to me. I smile at her. "Today is her seventeenth birthday, so to celebrate that, I will bring forth the gift I have been waiting to give her," she says. She puts her hand in one of her multiple pockets and pulls out a box about the size of a necklace box. She hands it to me, and I start opening it. Inside is a double loop silver crow pendant. It says Little Bird in silver on the second loop. I love it.

I almost close the box but Yvette stops me. She moves the thing that was holding the necklace. I pick up a bunch of small photos, the kind you would get from one of those kiddie cameras. My baby pictures. I want to cry but refuse in front of all these people I don't know. I picked up a photo of my mom and Yvette. They're at Disneyland and Yvette has her arm around my mom, while my mom is holding me. I was confused for a minute then realized that my mom had worn a BlackBird trademark ring on her finger. They were married. That makes me wonder for the millionth time who my birth father was.

I put it down and pick up another one. It's me at the BlackBird headquarters when I was three. I had on my favorite outfit, black and white striped soft fabric shorts, ( those shorts that have a belt that comes with it and they're small at the top and kinda big at the bottom) a black T-shirt with a white whimsical moon design, and my all black Converse hightops and a black and white striped fedora that matched my shorts. My eyes were gray in the picture and they looked stormy as I had my mouth hanging open looking at a dessert buffet table because Mom and Yvette had told me, "Go crazy. Just eat some real food so that you don't throw up,". I had picked up a cupcake in another photo and tried to shove the whole cupcake in my mouth, bottom first. I had crossed my eyes looking at the cupcake. It looked really cute. There was a picture of me and Yvette at a waterpark. Yvette had on a black two-piece and a straw sunhat with a black bow on it. I had on a light blue one-piece and the matching sunhat. Yvette was laughing as she splashed me with water. In the following photo, I looked mad. It was kind of funny. I had my arms crossed while I pouted angrily. My sun hat looked floppy because it was drenched and so was my hair. I pick up another photo. It's newborn me in a crib with a pink blanket on. There's another girl in the photo. Same black hair, same green eyes, same slight freckles, same dimples. She looks about five years old in the picture. I happen to glance over at North. Her eyes switch between green blue and gray and kaleidoscope-like mine do. She has a striking resemblance to my mom but she acts like Yvette. An idea surfaces in my head.

Bingo. That's why she seemed familiar when I first saw her. Because I know her. Could North be my sister? I knew I wasn't the only child. They thought I was crazy. Yvette looks at a picture of my mom at Carnival in Rio. She's not in the parade but she's smiling as dancers parade and the loud Latin music plays. Her eyes are closed and the bright colorful lights reflect off of her face and her jacket which is Yvette's. It's Yvette's leather jacket, I can tell. There's a picture of us all together at Mardi Gras with bright sparkly blouses and matching Mardi Gras masks. Yvette looks broken. She quickly puts the picture down. She says a few more things and we go back to our seats. "If you'd excuse me, I have to go mop the walls," Yvette says. She gets up and quickly disappears out of the room. Later that night I found out that Yvette had been crying so much that she passed out. I found that out because I'd snuck into her room with a blanket and a pillow and checked on her then slept on the floor. When I woke up my back hurt. A lot.