It was a Sunday. One of those sweatpants, sleep in till noon, high fructose corn syrup, read the newspaper but only for the comics, kind of days. Six in the morning was exactly like six at night and I was almost positive that I would be the first-recorded person to ever die of boredom. That all changed when my sister stepped into my bedroom.
She asked if I wanted to go get ice cream with her. I hesitated. Many thoughts ran through my mind. I would do just about anything to get out of these four walls. And I was always in the mood for ice cream. So why was I hesitating to do something that would give me an excuse to leave the house? It was my sister that made me hesitant.
A great divide had been growing between my sister and me. It started out as just a little crack in the sidewalk that connected me and her. As a child, it was very easy to ignore a fracture that small. We could just stick a Band-Aid on the wound and kiss it to make it better. But as we grew, the crack grew with us. It was harder to ignore. And with every stupid fight, and every little argument, I could feel the earth beneath me shake and the ground would separate a little more. The crack in the sidewalk forced us further apart until we had to yell just to hear the other’s voice. I desperately wished we could be close like we used to, but the divide felt too big to ever fix. I shoved these thoughts to the back of my head and forced a half smile.
“Sure,” I said. “Just let me get my jacket.” She grabbed her keys.
We got in the car and I slammed the door shut. She gave me a look. “Really?” she growled? “Is that really necessary?”
Soon enough we were on the road with cool air coming in the windows and loud music coming out. We could have gone to the ice cream place right down the street, but instead we went to the one on the other side of town because my sister had just gotten her license and loved to show off. Five minutes later, we pulled into the drive thru. My sister turned to the voice in the speaker, ordered her mint chocolate chip without missing a beat, and then turned to me with eyebrows raised.
“Well? What do you want?” She asked. I squinted at the menu trying desperately to make out the far away letters. I’m nearsighted, so reading those tiny words from that far away was near impossible. I should have brought my glasses. “Well?” She asked, growing impatient.
“I can’t see any of the words,” I said. “Can you read them to me or something?”
My sister rolled her eyes, leaned back to the speaker, and ordered me something random off the menu. She was annoyed. And I was annoyed that she was annoyed. I could have started an argument about that. About how it wasn't my fault I had bad vision. But I thought of the ever growing divide and decided that if it got any wider we might be too far away to even see each other. It just wasn't worth it. But I was still mad.
Within a few minutes we were heading home. The car was awkwardly silent. I looked down at my untouched ice cream. It looked too fruity and too sickly sweet. It was something I never would have ordered for myself. Thanks, big sister. Even my thoughts oozed with sarcasm.
The sweetness dissolved into my tongue and I turned up the radio just as our car was pulling into an intersection. And then the light turned green.
My sister screamed first. A high-pitched cry that made me scream as well before I even saw the danger myself. As our car made a left in the intersection, we found ourselves heading straight for a large white pickup truck. We were about to be hit head on. At the last second my sister turned the wheel sharply to the right, just missing our impending doom. The wheel quickly straightened out and before we knew it, our car was back on the road again as if nothing had happened.
But something had happened. “Oh my god, we would have hit them head on.” I whispered.
“I know,” my sister replied, her voice trembling slightly. Her hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. “I can’t believe that just happened.” She shook her head and turned to me. “Are you okay?”
I looked at her in silence. My sister was asking if I was okay? Did she actually care? This new development was even more shocking than our near head on collision.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, looking down. “I’m fine. What about you?” She nodded. Wow. It really took a near death experience for us to finally start getting along. We sort of half smiled at each other and I thought about the meaningless arguments over the years. I realized how those things we fought about, all the little things that pulled us apart, really didn't matter in the long run. Even though the crack in our sidewalk wasn't completely mended, I could feel the sides coming closer together, connecting us once again.