Like Sea Monkeys

Why are you dressed like that? Uh, it was a-a themed party.

Buck + standing bisexually

They’re in their thirties now, living in LA far away from those little kids that they were, and she’s sitting at her brother’s bedside while a machine breathes for him, in a hospital that she knows the halls of much too well. They have a family now, a big one with more love than either of them have ever known before. Buck belongs to a lot of people now, but she likes to think that he still belongs to her a little more than the others. She knows when she looks at the other side of the bed where Eddie Diaz sits, face buried in his hands, that it isn’t quite the truth. It hasn’t been for some time.

Buck had been struck by lightning, but Maddie thinks that perhaps Eddie’s heart had stopped right along with Buck’s.

She wonders if it has ever restarted.

Eddie’s shoulders tremble, like the tremor of an earthquake. A tiny sound reaches her ears, like Eddie has bitten down on his lip to stifle a sob. When he violently scrubs at his eyes, she looks away, back down at her brother’s pale face.

No, Maddie thinks to herself, she doesn’t think it has.

Buck’s phone sits in a bag inside of Maddie’s purse. She considers turning it on for the first time in two days. Maybe her brother doesn’t quite belong to her fully anymore, but she knows a secret, and she thinks it just might bring a bit of light back to Eddie’s eyes. Buck would probably forgive her, if she said she’d done it for Eddie. He’d forgive anything done to make Eddie smile. If she’s honest, she’s curious about it all, too.

Buck had pulled her aside one day and pressed his phone into her hands. It was open to Spotify, and there were so many playlists, all with a name attached. Bobby, Hen, Chimney, Jee, Eddie, Chris, Maddie. He told her it was a secret, a project he’d started working on in therapy. Dr. Copeland had suggested that he make playlists to express his feelings, and he’d run with it. He wasn’t ready to show anyone, but he wanted her to know about it. Just in case, he’d said. He’d pointed to the one titled Christopher and told her Play that one first. Then he’d taken the phone back and stretched out his pinky, and she looped hers around his. She thinks she knows what he meant when he said just in case, but maybe this could be close enough.

Bobby walks in, rosary wrapped tight in his hands, and it makes the decision for her.

—

Maddie is the last person out of Buck’s room that same night, and she isn’t surprised that their whole family is still sitting outside of the ICU doors. Every head turns in her direction when they hear her footsteps. Howie gives her a strange look when she doesn’t stop until she’s knelt in front of Christopher.

“Chris?” she says, soft and low. The boy lifts his eyes to hers, and something breaks in her chest when she sees how red and swollen they are. “Honey, I have something for you.”

“You do?” he asks. His voice is scratchy.

Maddie holds out her hand, waits for him to place his in hers. When he does, she flips it over and places Buck’s phone in his hand. “Buck told me one day that when the time was right, he wanted me to play this one first.” She points at the playlist she has pulled up, Chris’ name right at the top. His grip tightens on the phone when he sees it. “I don’t think he’d mind if we listened to it now, do you?”

For a second, Chris seems to hesitate. His eyes dart between Maddie’s and the phone screen, and then his features even out. He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think he’ll mind.”

He clicks on the first track, and Buck’s voice fills the room.

And then there’s the other thing Eddie can’t ignore. The thing that digs its claws into Eddie’s chest when Buck is complaining to Eddie about the movie Tommy made him watch the night before.  “Tommy says it’s one of his all-time favorite movies but honestly, I can not understand why. Everyone gets killed by the end, it was so depressing! Except that one guy, who I think was in that terrible horror movie about plants Chim made us watch during quarantine?” Buck says. “I mean, I guess the acting was pretty good.” Even as he’s complaining, though, Buck has this sparkling, smitten look on his face. Like Tommy’s questionable taste in movies is just another thing to love about him. Not that Buck loves Tommy. Eddie doesn’t think. But he could get there—and soon. Eddie had said as much when he’d told Tommy that Buck loves easily.