I filled my nose with a deep intake of cold air. It rushed back from my nostrils, leaving a puff of hot air floating in the wind. I started humming a tune I'd listened to earlier with my cousin, Mari. It was slow and sad, but it was comforting to feel the steady vibration against the inside of my lips for some reason. The sun was setting in the harvested cornfield. I was standing alone, car keys still gripped tightly in my hands. The sharp metal prong of my key chain was pinching the side of my clammy fist. I stood for what seemed about twenty minutes, my body silhouetted against the bruised apricot sky, the single tallest sight across twenty acres.

“Nobody's around. Nobody's around...” I repeated to myself over and over, feeding from my spaced out mind and speaking from my near motionless mouth. It felt good to be alone, out of the house filled with dented soup cans my grandparents collected from the local Tesco every Tuesday. Out of the house where Mari had just spilled jade green nail polish on my already stained carpet. Out of a house that wasn't really a home. Sucking in the air fast against my chapped lips and making them burn, I started to mumble the tune stuck in my head.

I kicked at the hard earth beneath my worn boots and continued to sing my made up song. I tilted my chin upwards looking at the sky. I thought of Mari back home and in her bed, either asleep by now or trying to stay up under the covers and finish her latest book she’d been into. Iowa seemed so empty to me; so bland. Even in a moonlit cornfield that was probably the ideal setting for an artist’s breathtaking painting didn’t interest me. It was beautiful, I guess. Just not to me. And I wasn’t sure why.
“That the hell am I doing in a cornfield?” I shouted so loud that it seemed as if my voice was bouncing off the frozen ground and pounding right back into my face.

I felt like crying. The bridge of my nose became twitchy and then numb, my thick lashes shaded my eyes as they became dewy with tears. Sneaking out, driving to the most random and stupid place possible, and just standing there feeling sorry for myself. And over what? Being jealous of somebody I should be nothing but happy for?

Mari, or Mariposa, had just come home from spending her Christmas vacation with my aunt and uncle in Trinidad—where Mari had been adopted from when she was 8. Of course Mari had stepped onto the plane looking beautiful as always—and when she returned she left the plane looking not just beautiful, but stunning and grownup, all in the course of three weeks. And of course she had been lovely and thoughtful and brought me back an embroidered notebook to write my daily journals in. But the worst part, (yes it did get worse) was that everyone had spent hours thanking her for her thoughtfulness for the presents she brought them, or for just gracing them with her presence. They had gone on and on asking her if she had enjoyed her trip and going back 10 years later to see the place she once called home. They asked her if she could tell them native words the people in Trinidad used. They asked if the beaded headband she was wearing was from Trinidad, and when she answered that she had made it they went on and on about how they wished they were as skilled and artistic as her. All of this sanguine praise in Mari’s honor took place while I sat in the corner of my grandparent’s kitchen, stuffing my face with New Year’s quiche and cherry punch. Nobody was ever interested enough to ask me about the summer I went to Washington D.C. with the girl scouts. Or the time when my grandparents look my St. Louis to see the arch. I didn’t get asked a single question about how the WWII memorial was, or if the arch really was as big as it looks on the postcards.


The highway that ran 1 mile south of the corn field was noisy with car beeps and rushing vehicles filling the wind with unsettling sounds. I wanted so badly to be in one of those cars, speeding away and not looking back.

Out of my mouth came another puff of breathe. I watched it's shape change as I formed my mouth into a puckered “o” and watched the cloud of wispy heat stream out. Taking my fingers into the shape of a “v” I pressed them against my lips, as if to imagine I was holding a cigarette. The exhaled warmth floated up against the dreamy colored sky. I watched it dance against the melted sherbet hues, looking more delicate than a Monet watercolor. I wanted to get out and away. Maybe to more famous museums, or to more café’s named after the owner’s first lover—I just wanted to leave and see the world and what else there it.

There I sat on the ground for a long time. The stars peeked forth from the bright light of the moon and shown their rays down on the lumpy ground. It was late. I don't know why I was waiting. Maybe for the faint wind to wrap around me, fold my arms, and ship me off to a faraway place. The smell of a leather passport and free continental breakfast started to make my mouth water.

“Oh what a beautiful place Iowa is” I sarcastically belted into the now black evening. The back of my throat tasted like blood from the bitter chilliness of the night. I wanted to move far away, to San Diego. There I could live in the warmth of the California air and not be next door neighbors with my irritatingly perfect cousin. But I still hadn’t heard back, even after applying to the University of San Diego back in November.

Maybe if I know I’ll be someplace different come the fall, this place will become more bearable, I thought to myself.

I got up from the stale ground, shook the crumbled dirt from my boots and started walking back to my car. The wind pushed me back, as if it wanted me to stay in the cornfield a while longer. But I didn't feel like feeling any lonelier.
***

“Well I just don't know if I'll feel up to it...” I trailed off, leaning against the wooden door frame into the dining room. The yellowed and curly phone cord was knotted in my hand as I searched the crumb ridden floor hoping to see a viable excuse spelled out in bits of forgotten sour dough. On the other end I could hear my grand mom nervously fumbling with her day planner.

“Alright love, well it does seem as though you are ever feeling 'up to it' these days. I think we'll just leave it up to you to call when you want us to pick you up and go.” I could tell she was upset but I really didn't know what to say.

“Alright” I mumbled into the receiver. The bottom of my bare foot was picking up a track of crumbs and dirt from the floor, and I rubbed it against the tile trying to wipe off the debris.

“We love yo-” I clicked the off button of the phone and my grand mom’s voice cut out. The receiver of our old yellow phone was cracked and a wad of my hair was stuck in the crevice. Before I noticed it, I had already pulled the phone away from my ear to put back on the base. A bundle of my hair was returned with the phone to the base, as well.
“Ow, ow, ow!” There was a painful rush to my temples before my body became flushed with annoyance. Truth was, I was still thinking back to yesterday afternoon; my grand mom had baked one of her sour cream cakes (a true delicacy in our family) and brought it over for Mari’s arrival back home. I had wanted a sour cream cake for my birthday back in September, but had I gotten one? No.
The air conditioning was on, quite odd for the month of January, but I was feeling feverish again. The thought of going down to the grocery store with my grandparents and finding all the dented cans to send to the food bank wasn't really what I wanted to be doing today. In fact, it wasn't something I'd be feeling up to doing tomorrow, or next week, or whenever she decided to cave and call again to invite me.
I stuffed a chocolate snack cake from the counter into my pocket and ran to my room, making sure to be quiet running past my parent's bedroom. It wasn't late, maybe four thirty, but I kept yawning. Well, I had been out all night in the cornfield and cold air. That was more than likely the cause to my now stuffy nose and purple under eyes. My mother had come in from work a few hours ago with a migraine, and dad had come early to lay down and rub her back so she would be soothed faster. He was thoughtful like that. Plus, he was only ever a few moments away in one of the barns or fields working. They were now both dozing off in their room listening to reruns of Seinfeld on our TV that was going fuzzy on channels 3-12. It wasn’t exactly a glamorous life living on a farm, I mean some people like it (like my whole family), I guess just not me.

I plopped down on the springy mattress of my bed and unwrapped the snack cake from my pocket. I took a bite, the sickening sweet marshmallow center making my mouth thick with an unpleasant feeling. I reclined back to relax, chewing and listening to the hum of the TV in my parent’s room. School was obviously the worst, and I was overdue for my daily hour of relaxation—a tradition more important than Christmas in my eyes. In my mind I was thinking about how weird it was that my grandparents still went to do community service. Don't people usually get over that kick of helping others by their mid thirties? The old grandfather clock in the living room let out a gong for 5 o'clock that sounded like a pitchy belch. The ringing of the chime was interrupted with a knocking on the door.

“Han! Han!” The voice from behind the screen door called. She sounded urgent, but I knew it probably wasn't. I made my way over to the front door, opening the heavy wooden part but leaving the storm screen separating me from my cousin Mari.

“Open the door I have to tell you something” she insisted. Mari was standing there, her thick black hair neatly braided in many tinier braids that wrapped around the bun on the top of her head. And she was wearing a crushed velvet track suit the color of a blood orange. And of course she looked amazing, even in her lounge clothes.

“Shhh” I hushed her. “My mom is home with a migraine.” Mari furrowed her brows in worry, half whispering her next words through the screen door.
“Can I please come in? It’s 12 degrees and I’m freezing!”
Maybe you shouldn’t spend so much time in Trinidad, get used to it, I wanted to retort. But I didn’t.

“Hannah let me in!” She puffed. The cold of outside had left her cheeks looking chapped and scratchy.

“Now’s not really a good time” was all I said in a dry voice. The cold air was seeping in through the window and making my face burn with a frosty sting. Mari had a letter in her hand. The near sight of it and knowing what it probably was caused me to slam the door…right in her face.


Here to rub it in my face that she’s been accepted into her dream college blah blah blah, I was so irritated, my fists tightened and back of my spine went cold. I began to have tears well up in my eyes again. Of course, I knew I should have been expecting this. I should have known this was coming any day. There was never any doubt Mari would be accepted to wherever she applied, being adopted and all would really help her chances. She would get to leave. But with my luck I’d be stuck here. Forever.
My heart sank lower when I heard a heavy thud from the back of the house. I ran into the hallway to see what the commotion was, my bedroom door was slightly ajar, making it easy to see Mari getting up off the ground after having just climbed in through my window.

“What are you doing?!” I couldn’t help it; I ran in and grabbed her shoulders, trying to push her out the door, out of my room, out of my hour of relaxation, and out of my life. She didn’t yell back, but she also didn’t let me push he out. She held firm like a heavy bag of potatoes.

“What’s your problem? I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t even want to think about you!” And there it was, I started to let my anger and jealousy pour out. She was still holding the letter in her hand, the University of San Diego’s crest neatly printed in the left top corner.

“What are you doing with a letter from there?” My voice hitched up an octave, and I’m sure my eyes probably rolled back into my skull due to the level of rage that rose inside me.
Mariposa stopped trying to hold her stance and took a step back. Her caramel completion was reddened, from anger or confusion—I couldn’t tell.

“What’s my problem? How about what’s your problem?” Her words froze me. She was angry, something that was pretty unusual for her.
And then…well, I snapped.

“I can’t believe you. Out of all the places in the world you applied to the one place I could go to get away! From you, from Iowa, from this vapid excuse for a farm! How could you do this?” I was screaming by now.
I heard my dad getting up from the creaky bed he was laying in with my mom. Mariposa opened her mouth to say something but I cut her off.

“You just couldn’t do it, could you? You couldn’t let something be mine. You couldn’t let me feel special for once. No. You had to apply and be just like me. You had to take my chance at being happy and squash it!” I watched as my cousin’s face crumbled, her head gradually lowered and she placed the letter on my bed.

“I’ve never tried to take anything from you.” She still wasn’t crying, something I couldn’t say for myself. My ruined face was blurry with water. The rustling of the door opening wider behind me made me turn.

“Mari? Hannah, why are you crying?” My dad’s soft voice sounded annoyed, my mother’s migraine was probably not helped by my screaming tirade moments earlier.

Before I could answer him, Mari walked past me towards the door, “I was just leaving, Uncle Matt. The mailman accidently delivered a letter for Hannah to my house.”
And there it was; the sign from above that I was indeed the biggest ‘you-know-what’ alive. I had just yelled at Mariposa for nothing. My dad looked at me, confused and probably wondering why I was so upset that Mari had brought me over the mail. He didn’t ask me anything; instead he just left, pulling the door softly closed behind him.
Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later, I thought to myself. And even though I was right, even though I knew that I was bound to have screwed it up eventually with Mari had it not happened today, I still couldn’t be comforted. A dark sour rumble was in the pit of my stomach; churning and making me feel sick. I picked the letter off of my checkered bed spread.
Miss Hannah Waitrose, was neatly printed in the center of the envelope. I wanted to open it then, but the possibility of being rejected mixed with what had just happened between Mari and I hung heavy. I couldn’t open it without fixing, or attempting to fix, what I had just made a mess of. I looked around for my thick canvas coat, grabbing it and pulling it on while also scanning my messy floor for some shoes. Cramming the letter into my back pocket, I pulled on some sneakers and took off out the door, down the hall and out past the front door. I knew Mari wouldn’t be in her room or even in her house next door. The frothy grey sky made the outside light seem much darker than normal. There was a pasture behind Mari’s and our house that the cows grazed in when the weather was nicer and the ground wasn’t a rigid block of hard crust. A good way behind the pasture was our barn where we kept the horses and chickens. I squinted, seeing Mari making her way towards the barn entrance.
I ran to try and catch her, but she slipped behind the faded red doors before I could get to her. Out of breath and with the bloody feeling in the back of my throat being back from having just run, I knocked on the barn doors. I doubled over trying to catch my breath; I barely heard Mari say to go away.
“Mari, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I-” I stopped myself short. I really didn’t know what to say, I knew it was mean to say what I had said, but it’s how I had felt for a really long time. The cold was surrounding me and my teeth were chattering and clanking against each other until it was painful.
The enormous barn door opened, Mari in her orange tracksuit stood there wiping tears rolling down her cheek. Perhaps it was the fact that she never cried, or maybe it was that she became one hundred times more realistic when she did, but I had to hug her. I grabbed her quickly, wrapping my arms around my cousin and holding her in the hug for a long pause.
“I’m sorry” I whispered. She pulled away, her bright eyes looking into mine. She let out a funny sounding scoff.
“Hannah, I love you too, but I knew it was coming” she laughed more after she said this, making me slightly confused.
“I mean, you’ve always hated when I got more attention than you.”
I was taken aback by what she had said for a second. I wasn’t sure what to say or if I should laugh like she was doing. Well, I didn’t really think I should laugh.

“Yeah. I guess…” I wanted to finish what I was about to say but I couldn’t admit it. Mariposa gave me a hard glance, knowing what I needed to admit to her and giving me a look that said ‘I’m waiting’.

“I’m jealous of you Mari” and then once I started I couldn’t stop, “I’m jealous that you weren’t born in this awful place, and that you have every opportunity to leave and go somewhere else because nobody expects you to stay here and take care of cows and corn for the rest of your life. I’m jealous that everyone wants to ask about how you’re doing, I’m jealous that you actually go and collect cans with grand mom and granddad without hating it. I’m jealous that you look different than me, that people will always see you and think how beautiful you are to have grown up in a small Iowa farming town” I could have made the list much longer, but I was too chocked up by my tears and my voice was getting to blurry and hard to understand through my crying.

Mari hugged me, the two of us walking over to lay on the straw near the horse stable doors.

“But Hannah, you have things I want too.” That caught my attention, my head turning up to look at her with a questioning face.

“I may be from another country, but I wish I truly knew what it was like to be from one place. And you’re beautiful and brave enough to chase your dreams.” She was smiling at me. She looked so kind when her brown lips pulled over her white teeth.
“This place just isn’t me. I hate everything about it. I just want to leave.” I was telling her something I think she already knew.
“Then maybe it’s time to go. I mean, you’ll always have a home here, but you should see what else is out there. I’m glad your aunt and uncle felt the same way as you—about wanting to see the world. I probably wouldn’t be here if not.” I could tell this wasn’t the first time she had pondered this thought. She looked away, maybe feeling too raw to let me see her face. She didn’t usually open up like this.

“I’m sorry Mari.”

“Stop saying sorry, I know it wasn’t your intention. The truth is, we have things about ourselves we will never be able to change. I just wish I had known you felt this way so we could have tried to fix it sooner. It probably would have saved us both some tears and your mom another two Tylenol.”
I stuck my hand in my back pocket, pulling out the letter. Mari looked confused, eying the envelope to see that I hadn’t opened it yet. I shot a glance to her and she nodded. I slipped my finger under the smooth edge of the lip, tearing back the envelope to see my paper that held my fate.
I was breathing heavier now, my hands clamming up in a nervous sweat. Mari put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze, peering over me to see what the paper would say. I unfolded the note and my brain started skimming for the either the words “congratulation” or “unfortunately”.
“Oh my gosh! Han!” Mari shot up, nearly sliding on the hay sprinkled the the floor. She pulled me up with her, hugging me hard.
“Congratulations! I can’t believe it! Well, I mean I can believe it! But wow!” Mari was bouncing up and down while holding onto me. I hadn’t even read the letter, the words on the page hadn’t seemed to really make sense. But I guess it was good news. A warm glow filled my arms and chest, my face swelled like a water balloon with tears of excitement.
“It gets so warm in California! No more cold or cornfields. ” I was so overjoyed at both of those thoughts. I didn’t know what else to say and Mari and I both laughed. I took Mari’s hand and we walked out of our barn, towards home.
“We need to tell your parents, we need to celebrate!” Mari gushed, her hands waving excitedly as she thought of it all. I smiled gently, the corners of my mouth may not have even turned, but I was happy. At last it was out, and we were both ok. And no matter what else happened, at least I wouldn’t be spending tonight alone in a cornfield.