The Evolution of Charmander
Jul. 30th, 2010 06:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jadelyntateSo, when I revised my essay on clex_monkie89 and I's friendship, I ended up adding, like, four pages. It's kinda crazy. Therefore...TADA! New version!
The Evolution of Charmander
July 1st, 2010, AOL Instant Messenger
Charmander: Admit it, I won, you cried.
Snorlax: Lol. Yeah, but I ran away to fight another day
Charmander: So you ADMIT you ran away!
We met when we were eight. I was at the park, playing on the merry-go-round and trying to make the little kids dizzy by pushing it as fast as I could. It was one of the few times when they weren't afraid of me―they just wanted to go faster. It was spring, when the Arizona sun started making its comeback, proving that he was the baddest ball of gas around. Another kid, younger, about six or seven, had approached me. He’d been shadowed by two other boys, bigger but roughly the same age. They’d stopped in front of me and just grinned.
See, I was the kids past time. Poking fun, calling insults, kicking sand, anything to make me blow my top was what the neighborhood kids enjoyed watching. Adults diagnosed me ADHD, ADD, chronic depression, they never quite figured it out. The fact is they didn't know why I had such problems holding my temper, of paying attention in class, didn't stop them from prescribing medicines, and back then, the automatic assumption was that I was mentally handicapped in some way. I'd long since grown past Ritalin and was on something that was typically given adults. Paxel. No one found out until later that the medications actually made my fuse even shorter and my temper more volatile. And most people are even now unaware that medicating children that young could impact them as adults.
That said, it didn’t much surprise me when the kid started calling me names. To be honest, I'd grown rather used to it; resigned to the fact I would never quite be the normal one in the neighborhood. When these boys started calling me names, using terms no kids my age or his should know, I tried, I honestly did. I really didn’t need another mark against me in the neighborhood, too many parents didn't want me around their children already and I didn't really have any good, close friends. As intrigued as they were about my temper, they were also scared of me.
Even the strongest dam will eventually crack if enough pressure is placed on it.
I had stood up and I'm pretty sure I looked half deranged as I went to smack him. His eyes had widened, a grin lighting up his face as his two friends straightened. He hadn’t been worried about my imminent attack, probably thinking he could use it as a mark of pride. Why he wasn't worried about getting hit, I'll never know. He was robbed of it though. My hand never connected.
I'd stared at the wrist holding me and I felt the relief and fear bled through the bubble of anger that had engulfed me. I’d been caught but before I’d actually landed a blow, which was a first. As long as it wasn’t an older kid, I figured I’d be fine. The older kids didn't just stick with calling names and I no desire to go home with new bruises I'd have to hide.
That was when I looked at Charlee for the first time.
I'd never seen her before. Taller than me even then and dressed in baggy jeans and an even baggier shirt, her hair was cut in the style of a skater boy at the time, long at the top but buzzed underneath. First impressions are rarely if ever correct but the impression Charlee gave off that day was. Her stance, her appearance, the expression on her face said you didn’t want to mess with her. And you really didn't. Still don't, actually, as she hasn't changed much in fifteen years.
Charlee didn’t give me a chance to explain, even if I could have, and threw me to the ground. We fought as little girls, even tomboys like us, tended to. Park sand, rocks, even plastic lense from one of the street lamps was thrown; hair was pulled and solid punches missed their intended targets, making each of us stumble enough so the other could jump on their back. Even though the boys were still there, I didn't pay any attention to them—I was too focused on this new girl and how to get out of this without too many bruises.
We still argue about who won the fight. She insists that because I ran away with sand in my eyes, she won. I usually shoot back with the quote “Fixed fortifications are a monument to the stupidity of man.” For years she didn't understand what I was saying but insists because I retreated, she won. Its an argument I'm fairly certain we'll still be having when we get to be little old ladies.
July 2nd, 2010
Snorlax: I was tiny
Charmander: Yep.
Snorlax: And you, you know, giant
Charmander: You're almost people-sized, Chelsea. Don't worry, you'll get there some day.
Snorlax: I'll have you know, I'm of average height. 5'7 thank you very much
Charmander: In heels on a ladder.
I don't remember quite how we got over the fight. Charlee remembers her two older brothers, Bryon and Tommy, yelling at her and dragging her over to apologize for hitting first. Everyone from the playground had followed her home and she remembers Tommy, her older brother, being pissed when he saw me for the first time. He thought I was younger than her and he was not happy his baby sister had beat up a little kid. I was tiny back then, shorter than most of my classmates, and incredibly thin. Charlee, on the other hand, was taller than half our grade and looked older as well. It's still a source of amusement to us that I'm five months older.
Within a few days of Charlee coming over, we were inseperable, arguing over TV shows and superheroes and what school subject was best. Loud, brash, and not afraid of anything, Charlee became my protector, who stood in the way when others would attack, verbally or physically. She was, and continues to be, a natural protector. I was rather timid—for all the fighting I did as a kid, I didn't like getting into altercations. Having someone to protect me was my greatest wish. As we grew older, I grew more confident but if needed, I know I just have to say the word and Charlee will step in.
She ended up going to court once when she made an older boy regret pushing me off an arcing swing. It's a miracle I didn't break my neck when I landed and seeing it had blown her in a rage I hadn't been privy to since we met. After punching him, she seemed to realize what she had done and we'd taken off. Weaving through the houses, knowing all the shortcuts, we'd been only two streets away from Charlee’s house when the boys found us on bikes. She’d yelled at me to get her mom and then faced the boys down, giving me time to run away and do as I was told.
Charlee came away from that fight with a black eye, a missed girl scout meeting, and a judge praising her protection and scolding her for the way she’d handled it.
Best friends, confidants, luna and sol. So very different and yet the same, we've never lost contact permanently. Even after first Charlee then I was forced to move away the neighborhood we'd met at, we still found each other. I sometimes wonder if it was fate, us being friends. We'd go months without seeing or talking, having lost phone numbers or email addresses. In the suburbs of Phoenix, it was difficult to keep in touch if you lost both because there were just so many people. But in the most random and surprising ways, we'd find each other again.
I remember one time, when we were about twelve, we'd lost contact for six months. I'd been moving around, never staying in one place, trying to find something that felt like a home because we couldn't live in our old house anymore. We were in a temporary hotel/apartment place, Embassy Suites, in Mesa. My dad had gone to the front office, leaving me and my mom to clean up lunch. He was gone longer than he should have been but at twelve, you don’t notice those kinds of things when your mom's making you do dishes.
About half an hour after he got back, as we were finishing up cleaning the kitchen, he asked me to go get some spice, salt, from the people in apartment 212. I was so confused. We'd just had lunch, why did he need salt and didn't we have a full container in the cupboard? When he was insistent, I just shrugged it off as my dad being crazy and headed out.
I'd been spending some of my free time investigating the area, going around on bikes to see if there were any spots I could go and hang out at without being bothered. It didn't take me long to find the correct apartment. When I got there, I heard the sound of a fighting game coming from inside, something kinda familiar but I wasn't sure why. I’d knocked and the game paused. There was some muffled shouting and someone stomped over to answer the door.
Even after all this time, I still remember the expression of shock on Charlee’s face as the door opened. Still remember the two of us screaming at the same time and at the same earsplitting decibel in joy and surprise. I still gets a twinge in my ribs of remembered pain of the hug that lifted me off the ground and I still smile when I remember the combined laughter of our dad’s, who’d run into each other paying rent.
July 4th, 2010
Charmander: I remember picking a fight with Chris while we were stuck in that fucking Geo "trunk."
Snorlax: Jungle basketball on the park court. I still have the scars.
Charmander: Crash derby in the MUD on the basketball court.
Snorlax: Fireworks. In the house.
Charmander: NOT MY IDEA
Snorlax: Rollerblading in the apartments next door and getting chased by that little old lady.
Charmander: Okay, that was just fun. Also, you tried to kill me with confetti.
Snorlax: New Years Eve. Nuff said.
Charmander: YOU THREW IT IN MY MOUTH.
Snorlax: I was aiming for your head!
Over the years, Charlee and I did a lot of stupid things but we always had fun doing them. Charlee was always willing to try anything once and, sadly, I usually didn't try talking her out of it even when I knew it wasn't going to turn out okay. I was the junior partner in our relationship and I didn't mind; I was, and continue to be, naturally subservient. Its an aspect of my childhood that I never fully grew out of.
Some of the things we did, we did simply because we didn't know any better. One time, when we were at Charlee's mom's house, we got hungry. Her mom wasn't home and it was just the two of us so we decided we could fend for ourselves. We were thirteen, after all, and it wasn't like we hadn't cooked before.
We pulled out one of the steaks in the freezer. After a quick discussion, she pulled out a frying pan and I grabbed the butter. I'd seen my dad fry meat before so I didn't see how it could be hard. We didn't defrost it, just plopped it into the pan with a good glob of butter.
One of the firemen almost died laughing when he and his truck arrived and discovered why the apartment was full of smoke. Our parents, on the other hand, didn't find it nearly as funny.
Another time, we went to the store nearby and found out they were having a sale of chocolate. We didn't actually look at what kind, just bought two pounds and went home, where we ate it all in one sitting. It was unsweetened. When we finished, we decided we wanted something actually sweet so we made pancakes, with Nesquick instead of chocolate chips.
A lot of our disasters were food related in some way, now that I think about it.
The nicknames came when we were thirteen. Charlee was a natural blond but almost never kept the same color for long, even back then. She'd started dying it only a few months after we met. Charlee been a redhead for a few months, at that point, a deep burgundy that went oddly well with her tan complexion. Everyone thought she looked good, kept telling her she should keep it.
But Charlee had grown bored of being a redhead, wanted to be a blonde again, if only for a few months. So I grudgingly agreed to help her dye it. It would have been better just to bleach it but at thirteen, neither of us realized that.
When her hair was finally dry, Charlee’s brother made the first crack, calling her Pumpkinhead. All I could think of though was that instead of the blonde she’d been aiming for, Charlee’s hair had come out the bright orange-red of the Charmander, a pokemon that spits fire and has a protective streak like no other.
When she realized I wasn't going to stop calling her Charmander, she started calling me Snorlax in retaliation. Even though the pokemon is one who sleeps a lot, I didn't mind the nickname. The Snorlax is known as incredibly docile and friendly, somewhat lazy, and is very slow to anger. I considered it a compliment.
When I moved to Colorado when we were seventeen, neither of us were pleased. We could deal with not seeing each other all the time but it was the distance we didn't like. In Arizona, we always had the option of just getting on a bus and meeting up somewhere, usually a mall. With me in Colorado, that wasn't possible and we both knew it.
So Charlee came up with a plan and drafted her younger brother Joey to help. They came over for dinner, the last meal we'd have together. While their mom was talking with my parents inside the house, Charlee, Joey, and I went outside to talk and to show me their new car. I didn't think much of their rambling, or the fact they decided I needed to see the trunk; it simply wasn't unusual with these two.
I gave the trunk a cursory glance, not really thinking much of it, and turned back to say something when they pounced. Ignoring my yelps, the two of them picked me up, Joey with my legs, Charlee with my arms and torso. I struggled, especially as I realized they were moving me towards the tiny, open trunk.
It's a bit of a blur after that, as I hit my head, giving myself a minor concussion. Charlee and Joey's mom yelled at them for trying to kidnap me but my parents just laughed and asked how they were planning on explaining my sudden disappearance. I don't think Charlee and Joey ever quite figured that part out, nor how they were planning on keeping me a secret from their mother.
When we hugged goodbye that night, both of us were crying, absolutely devastated that this was really happening. I didn't know how long it would be before I saw her again, even though my parents said we'd go back. I had trouble falling asleep that night, as I was terrified of how I was supposed to survive without her. At midnight, I finally gave up on sleep and grabbed the phone, calling her. She picked up almost instantly and we talked the entire night.
July 5th, 2010
Snorlax: My hair is red now. See?
Charmander: … Mine as of last night.
Snorlax: ...mine's brighter, I think, but um...wow. Wonder Twin Powers Activate, right?
Charmander: HEE Also, our glasses are almost identical now, too.
Snorlax: ...we are SO Taking several pics in August
Charmander: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE
In August 2007, my younger sister had a double lung transplant. Charlee was the first person I called when I got the news that the lungs were available. She, her family, called routinely during the night and following day, as well as the weeks of recovery. Both of us were disappointed Charlee couldn't make it to Denver, as Charlee considered Katie a little sister too, but we understood why she couldn't.
A year later, the anniversary was coming up and my parents were planning a HUGE bash to celebrate. They'd rented out the park, bought a pig, decorations—it was a celebration of life. Charlee knew all about it, of course, as I had sent an invitation to her and her family. Neither one of us thought she'd be able to make it, as Charlee had just started a new job and wouldn't be able to get the time off, even if they could afford the plane ticket.
A few weeks before the party, however, I was woken up one morning by Charlee calling. CJ, her step-father, had heard about the party, heard about Katie, and heard about how long it'd been since we'd seen each other in person.
He bought her a plane ticket to Denver. All we had to do was pick her up and give her someplace to stay for the visit.
Hands shaking, I got off with Charlee and called my parents. I was terrified it was all a dream, that it'd fall apart and wouldn't happen. I hadn't seen her in six years, the longest we'd ever been apart, and I missed her.
My parents, after a shocked silence, insisted they'd be there to pick her up, to give her a place to stay. They also decided not to tell Katie, who'd been two when we met Charlee and who'd grown up with her as another big sister. Partly it was because we wanted to surprise her and partly it was because all of us, even Charlee, were worried it would fall through at some point.
The weeks in between her phone call and the trip to Denver were some of the worst, because I cycled so quickly between excitement, worry, nerves, and a dreamlike state where nothing was real. Katie knew about the trip to Denver, as it would be impossible to keep such a long trip from her. We came up with a cover story, however. I had a friend, an RA at school, who lived in Arizona. We'd actually gone to the same high school, though at different times. Katie had met him so she knew all about this. Our story was that Andre was flying in and needed a ride. She thought we would be that ride. So for the weeks leading up to Charlee coming, we kept referring to her as Andre and Katie just accepted it.
Ironically, we ended up not needing the cover story as our brother invited Katie to go with him and his girlfriend to Nebraska a few days before we were to get Charlee in Denver. They were going to meet with our older sister and pick up her son, who was going to live with him in Colorado for a while. Like me, Malik was said to have temper issues and the only person he would listen to was my brother. They were hoping living with Steve full-time would help. So while Katie was with our older sister, my parents and I drove up to Denver.
The four hour drive seemed to take four days. I've always been a fairly impatient person but that drive was horrible. I didn't speak, except in random bursts of excitement when I thought of seeing Charlee again. It'd been six years.
At the airport, we got their early and had to wait. I knew from her text message that she'd gotten on the plane and I knew from the airport arrival board that she was on time. I'm fairly certain I drove my parents nuts in the twenty minutes between our arrival and Charlee's plane landing.
Charlee got lost in the airport and had to call me. After explaining where we were, I was facing the opposite direction when my mom called my name. Turning around, there she was, turning a corner towards us. I didn't even stop to think, I just ran, tears clouding my vision as we crashed into each other. Behind us, my parents were laughing and when we finally broke apart after hugging for a good five minutes, I could see a few people watching us with smiles. Charlee hugged my parents and once she was done, I pounced again. Thankfully, she clung to me just as hard and we laughed as my parents joked that we had a four drive back, we weren't being separated anytime soon so we should relax.
The drive back to the Valley was loud and boisterous, a marked difference to the drive to Denver. The next few days, we didn't leave the house, too busy getting caught up and laughing and hanging out. Charlee had never lived anywhere without a few hundred thousand people so coming to a place so small as our town was a bit of a shock. She'd known of course, I'd told her, but it was different seeing it up close and personal.
When Katie and my brother got home, we had a plan. Lara, my brother's girlfriend, called us about ten minutes away so we'd know they were coming. Lara was horrible at keeping secrets but she'd managed to keep this one, for which everyone was grateful. Charlee and I were in the living room, Supernatural playing on the TV, when Katie came in. At first, it was a bit chaotic as she was so focused on telling my mom about meeting her neice and nephew for the first time that she didn't notice Charlee.
Then, when she finally did and my mom told her to meet Andre, she just stared blankly for a few minutes. Charlee and I were grinning, unable to help it. Finally, Katie looked at my mom, and in a dazed sort of voice, said, “That's not Andre.”
Then she threw herself at Charlee and burst out crying.
The week Charlee was with us was incredibly fun and very bittersweet. We had seven days to make up for not seeing each other for six years and while it was incredibly fun, it, well, sucked when we remembered she did have to leave. By the time we drove back to Denver to the airport, it was like the trip there only instead of being quiet because I was so excited, I was quiet because I was dreading the moment I had to let her go through the security checkpoint.
Hugging her just outside of the line, I started crying and couldn't seem to stop. We promised to see each other in a month in Baltimore at a Convention but I'm a naturally paranoid person so for all I knew, this would be the last time. Finally, after a good ten minutes of clinging, I let her go. We didn't leave until she was safely through the checkpoint and on her way to the terminals.
That night, I cried myself to sleep.
July 6th, 2010
Charmander: Our lives are so surreal.
Snorlax: Seriously
I've seen Charlee in person a few times since 2008, most notably in Baltimore and Denver for a convention she talked me into going to. Each time has been different but our connection has never changed. We're still best friends, confidants, the yang to my yin. Incredibly different, I like to think we're proof that opposites really do attract.
I have plans to see her again in a couple weeks, when my family takes our first vacation in years. We'll be driving through Arizona to California and she and her mom have offered to put us up for our stay in the desert state. We'll be together, like old times, and I have a feeling neither one of us will be sleeping much during it.
We met when we were eight, when our biggest decision was whether or not to risk the wrath of our parents by not doing our homework. We're in our mid-twenties now, in college and working, respectively. Separated by state lines but connected with phone calls and emails and Twitter, we're still friends, still sisters, still arguing over who won our first fight.
And she still answers to Charmander.
clex_monkie89 and I's friendship, I ended up adding, like, four pages. It's kinda crazy. Therefore...TADA! New version!The Evolution of Charmander
July 1st, 2010, AOL Instant Messenger
Charmander: Admit it, I won, you cried.
Snorlax: Lol. Yeah, but I ran away to fight another day
Charmander: So you ADMIT you ran away!
We met when we were eight. I was at the park, playing on the merry-go-round and trying to make the little kids dizzy by pushing it as fast as I could. It was one of the few times when they weren't afraid of me―they just wanted to go faster. It was spring, when the Arizona sun started making its comeback, proving that he was the baddest ball of gas around. Another kid, younger, about six or seven, had approached me. He’d been shadowed by two other boys, bigger but roughly the same age. They’d stopped in front of me and just grinned.
See, I was the kids past time. Poking fun, calling insults, kicking sand, anything to make me blow my top was what the neighborhood kids enjoyed watching. Adults diagnosed me ADHD, ADD, chronic depression, they never quite figured it out. The fact is they didn't know why I had such problems holding my temper, of paying attention in class, didn't stop them from prescribing medicines, and back then, the automatic assumption was that I was mentally handicapped in some way. I'd long since grown past Ritalin and was on something that was typically given adults. Paxel. No one found out until later that the medications actually made my fuse even shorter and my temper more volatile. And most people are even now unaware that medicating children that young could impact them as adults.
That said, it didn’t much surprise me when the kid started calling me names. To be honest, I'd grown rather used to it; resigned to the fact I would never quite be the normal one in the neighborhood. When these boys started calling me names, using terms no kids my age or his should know, I tried, I honestly did. I really didn’t need another mark against me in the neighborhood, too many parents didn't want me around their children already and I didn't really have any good, close friends. As intrigued as they were about my temper, they were also scared of me.
Even the strongest dam will eventually crack if enough pressure is placed on it.
I had stood up and I'm pretty sure I looked half deranged as I went to smack him. His eyes had widened, a grin lighting up his face as his two friends straightened. He hadn’t been worried about my imminent attack, probably thinking he could use it as a mark of pride. Why he wasn't worried about getting hit, I'll never know. He was robbed of it though. My hand never connected.
I'd stared at the wrist holding me and I felt the relief and fear bled through the bubble of anger that had engulfed me. I’d been caught but before I’d actually landed a blow, which was a first. As long as it wasn’t an older kid, I figured I’d be fine. The older kids didn't just stick with calling names and I no desire to go home with new bruises I'd have to hide.
That was when I looked at Charlee for the first time.
I'd never seen her before. Taller than me even then and dressed in baggy jeans and an even baggier shirt, her hair was cut in the style of a skater boy at the time, long at the top but buzzed underneath. First impressions are rarely if ever correct but the impression Charlee gave off that day was. Her stance, her appearance, the expression on her face said you didn’t want to mess with her. And you really didn't. Still don't, actually, as she hasn't changed much in fifteen years.
Charlee didn’t give me a chance to explain, even if I could have, and threw me to the ground. We fought as little girls, even tomboys like us, tended to. Park sand, rocks, even plastic lense from one of the street lamps was thrown; hair was pulled and solid punches missed their intended targets, making each of us stumble enough so the other could jump on their back. Even though the boys were still there, I didn't pay any attention to them—I was too focused on this new girl and how to get out of this without too many bruises.
We still argue about who won the fight. She insists that because I ran away with sand in my eyes, she won. I usually shoot back with the quote “Fixed fortifications are a monument to the stupidity of man.” For years she didn't understand what I was saying but insists because I retreated, she won. Its an argument I'm fairly certain we'll still be having when we get to be little old ladies.
July 2nd, 2010
Snorlax: I was tiny
Charmander: Yep.
Snorlax: And you, you know, giant
Charmander: You're almost people-sized, Chelsea. Don't worry, you'll get there some day.
Snorlax: I'll have you know, I'm of average height. 5'7 thank you very much
Charmander: In heels on a ladder.
I don't remember quite how we got over the fight. Charlee remembers her two older brothers, Bryon and Tommy, yelling at her and dragging her over to apologize for hitting first. Everyone from the playground had followed her home and she remembers Tommy, her older brother, being pissed when he saw me for the first time. He thought I was younger than her and he was not happy his baby sister had beat up a little kid. I was tiny back then, shorter than most of my classmates, and incredibly thin. Charlee, on the other hand, was taller than half our grade and looked older as well. It's still a source of amusement to us that I'm five months older.
Within a few days of Charlee coming over, we were inseperable, arguing over TV shows and superheroes and what school subject was best. Loud, brash, and not afraid of anything, Charlee became my protector, who stood in the way when others would attack, verbally or physically. She was, and continues to be, a natural protector. I was rather timid—for all the fighting I did as a kid, I didn't like getting into altercations. Having someone to protect me was my greatest wish. As we grew older, I grew more confident but if needed, I know I just have to say the word and Charlee will step in.
She ended up going to court once when she made an older boy regret pushing me off an arcing swing. It's a miracle I didn't break my neck when I landed and seeing it had blown her in a rage I hadn't been privy to since we met. After punching him, she seemed to realize what she had done and we'd taken off. Weaving through the houses, knowing all the shortcuts, we'd been only two streets away from Charlee’s house when the boys found us on bikes. She’d yelled at me to get her mom and then faced the boys down, giving me time to run away and do as I was told.
Charlee came away from that fight with a black eye, a missed girl scout meeting, and a judge praising her protection and scolding her for the way she’d handled it.
Best friends, confidants, luna and sol. So very different and yet the same, we've never lost contact permanently. Even after first Charlee then I was forced to move away the neighborhood we'd met at, we still found each other. I sometimes wonder if it was fate, us being friends. We'd go months without seeing or talking, having lost phone numbers or email addresses. In the suburbs of Phoenix, it was difficult to keep in touch if you lost both because there were just so many people. But in the most random and surprising ways, we'd find each other again.
I remember one time, when we were about twelve, we'd lost contact for six months. I'd been moving around, never staying in one place, trying to find something that felt like a home because we couldn't live in our old house anymore. We were in a temporary hotel/apartment place, Embassy Suites, in Mesa. My dad had gone to the front office, leaving me and my mom to clean up lunch. He was gone longer than he should have been but at twelve, you don’t notice those kinds of things when your mom's making you do dishes.
About half an hour after he got back, as we were finishing up cleaning the kitchen, he asked me to go get some spice, salt, from the people in apartment 212. I was so confused. We'd just had lunch, why did he need salt and didn't we have a full container in the cupboard? When he was insistent, I just shrugged it off as my dad being crazy and headed out.
I'd been spending some of my free time investigating the area, going around on bikes to see if there were any spots I could go and hang out at without being bothered. It didn't take me long to find the correct apartment. When I got there, I heard the sound of a fighting game coming from inside, something kinda familiar but I wasn't sure why. I’d knocked and the game paused. There was some muffled shouting and someone stomped over to answer the door.
Even after all this time, I still remember the expression of shock on Charlee’s face as the door opened. Still remember the two of us screaming at the same time and at the same earsplitting decibel in joy and surprise. I still gets a twinge in my ribs of remembered pain of the hug that lifted me off the ground and I still smile when I remember the combined laughter of our dad’s, who’d run into each other paying rent.
July 4th, 2010
Charmander: I remember picking a fight with Chris while we were stuck in that fucking Geo "trunk."
Snorlax: Jungle basketball on the park court. I still have the scars.
Charmander: Crash derby in the MUD on the basketball court.
Snorlax: Fireworks. In the house.
Charmander: NOT MY IDEA
Snorlax: Rollerblading in the apartments next door and getting chased by that little old lady.
Charmander: Okay, that was just fun. Also, you tried to kill me with confetti.
Snorlax: New Years Eve. Nuff said.
Charmander: YOU THREW IT IN MY MOUTH.
Snorlax: I was aiming for your head!
Over the years, Charlee and I did a lot of stupid things but we always had fun doing them. Charlee was always willing to try anything once and, sadly, I usually didn't try talking her out of it even when I knew it wasn't going to turn out okay. I was the junior partner in our relationship and I didn't mind; I was, and continue to be, naturally subservient. Its an aspect of my childhood that I never fully grew out of.
Some of the things we did, we did simply because we didn't know any better. One time, when we were at Charlee's mom's house, we got hungry. Her mom wasn't home and it was just the two of us so we decided we could fend for ourselves. We were thirteen, after all, and it wasn't like we hadn't cooked before.
We pulled out one of the steaks in the freezer. After a quick discussion, she pulled out a frying pan and I grabbed the butter. I'd seen my dad fry meat before so I didn't see how it could be hard. We didn't defrost it, just plopped it into the pan with a good glob of butter.
One of the firemen almost died laughing when he and his truck arrived and discovered why the apartment was full of smoke. Our parents, on the other hand, didn't find it nearly as funny.
Another time, we went to the store nearby and found out they were having a sale of chocolate. We didn't actually look at what kind, just bought two pounds and went home, where we ate it all in one sitting. It was unsweetened. When we finished, we decided we wanted something actually sweet so we made pancakes, with Nesquick instead of chocolate chips.
A lot of our disasters were food related in some way, now that I think about it.
The nicknames came when we were thirteen. Charlee was a natural blond but almost never kept the same color for long, even back then. She'd started dying it only a few months after we met. Charlee been a redhead for a few months, at that point, a deep burgundy that went oddly well with her tan complexion. Everyone thought she looked good, kept telling her she should keep it.
But Charlee had grown bored of being a redhead, wanted to be a blonde again, if only for a few months. So I grudgingly agreed to help her dye it. It would have been better just to bleach it but at thirteen, neither of us realized that.
When her hair was finally dry, Charlee’s brother made the first crack, calling her Pumpkinhead. All I could think of though was that instead of the blonde she’d been aiming for, Charlee’s hair had come out the bright orange-red of the Charmander, a pokemon that spits fire and has a protective streak like no other.
When she realized I wasn't going to stop calling her Charmander, she started calling me Snorlax in retaliation. Even though the pokemon is one who sleeps a lot, I didn't mind the nickname. The Snorlax is known as incredibly docile and friendly, somewhat lazy, and is very slow to anger. I considered it a compliment.
When I moved to Colorado when we were seventeen, neither of us were pleased. We could deal with not seeing each other all the time but it was the distance we didn't like. In Arizona, we always had the option of just getting on a bus and meeting up somewhere, usually a mall. With me in Colorado, that wasn't possible and we both knew it.
So Charlee came up with a plan and drafted her younger brother Joey to help. They came over for dinner, the last meal we'd have together. While their mom was talking with my parents inside the house, Charlee, Joey, and I went outside to talk and to show me their new car. I didn't think much of their rambling, or the fact they decided I needed to see the trunk; it simply wasn't unusual with these two.
I gave the trunk a cursory glance, not really thinking much of it, and turned back to say something when they pounced. Ignoring my yelps, the two of them picked me up, Joey with my legs, Charlee with my arms and torso. I struggled, especially as I realized they were moving me towards the tiny, open trunk.
It's a bit of a blur after that, as I hit my head, giving myself a minor concussion. Charlee and Joey's mom yelled at them for trying to kidnap me but my parents just laughed and asked how they were planning on explaining my sudden disappearance. I don't think Charlee and Joey ever quite figured that part out, nor how they were planning on keeping me a secret from their mother.
When we hugged goodbye that night, both of us were crying, absolutely devastated that this was really happening. I didn't know how long it would be before I saw her again, even though my parents said we'd go back. I had trouble falling asleep that night, as I was terrified of how I was supposed to survive without her. At midnight, I finally gave up on sleep and grabbed the phone, calling her. She picked up almost instantly and we talked the entire night.
July 5th, 2010
Snorlax: My hair is red now. See?
Charmander: … Mine as of last night.
Snorlax: ...mine's brighter, I think, but um...wow. Wonder Twin Powers Activate, right?
Charmander: HEE Also, our glasses are almost identical now, too.
Snorlax: ...we are SO Taking several pics in August
Charmander: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE
In August 2007, my younger sister had a double lung transplant. Charlee was the first person I called when I got the news that the lungs were available. She, her family, called routinely during the night and following day, as well as the weeks of recovery. Both of us were disappointed Charlee couldn't make it to Denver, as Charlee considered Katie a little sister too, but we understood why she couldn't.
A year later, the anniversary was coming up and my parents were planning a HUGE bash to celebrate. They'd rented out the park, bought a pig, decorations—it was a celebration of life. Charlee knew all about it, of course, as I had sent an invitation to her and her family. Neither one of us thought she'd be able to make it, as Charlee had just started a new job and wouldn't be able to get the time off, even if they could afford the plane ticket.
A few weeks before the party, however, I was woken up one morning by Charlee calling. CJ, her step-father, had heard about the party, heard about Katie, and heard about how long it'd been since we'd seen each other in person.
He bought her a plane ticket to Denver. All we had to do was pick her up and give her someplace to stay for the visit.
Hands shaking, I got off with Charlee and called my parents. I was terrified it was all a dream, that it'd fall apart and wouldn't happen. I hadn't seen her in six years, the longest we'd ever been apart, and I missed her.
My parents, after a shocked silence, insisted they'd be there to pick her up, to give her a place to stay. They also decided not to tell Katie, who'd been two when we met Charlee and who'd grown up with her as another big sister. Partly it was because we wanted to surprise her and partly it was because all of us, even Charlee, were worried it would fall through at some point.
The weeks in between her phone call and the trip to Denver were some of the worst, because I cycled so quickly between excitement, worry, nerves, and a dreamlike state where nothing was real. Katie knew about the trip to Denver, as it would be impossible to keep such a long trip from her. We came up with a cover story, however. I had a friend, an RA at school, who lived in Arizona. We'd actually gone to the same high school, though at different times. Katie had met him so she knew all about this. Our story was that Andre was flying in and needed a ride. She thought we would be that ride. So for the weeks leading up to Charlee coming, we kept referring to her as Andre and Katie just accepted it.
Ironically, we ended up not needing the cover story as our brother invited Katie to go with him and his girlfriend to Nebraska a few days before we were to get Charlee in Denver. They were going to meet with our older sister and pick up her son, who was going to live with him in Colorado for a while. Like me, Malik was said to have temper issues and the only person he would listen to was my brother. They were hoping living with Steve full-time would help. So while Katie was with our older sister, my parents and I drove up to Denver.
The four hour drive seemed to take four days. I've always been a fairly impatient person but that drive was horrible. I didn't speak, except in random bursts of excitement when I thought of seeing Charlee again. It'd been six years.
At the airport, we got their early and had to wait. I knew from her text message that she'd gotten on the plane and I knew from the airport arrival board that she was on time. I'm fairly certain I drove my parents nuts in the twenty minutes between our arrival and Charlee's plane landing.
Charlee got lost in the airport and had to call me. After explaining where we were, I was facing the opposite direction when my mom called my name. Turning around, there she was, turning a corner towards us. I didn't even stop to think, I just ran, tears clouding my vision as we crashed into each other. Behind us, my parents were laughing and when we finally broke apart after hugging for a good five minutes, I could see a few people watching us with smiles. Charlee hugged my parents and once she was done, I pounced again. Thankfully, she clung to me just as hard and we laughed as my parents joked that we had a four drive back, we weren't being separated anytime soon so we should relax.
The drive back to the Valley was loud and boisterous, a marked difference to the drive to Denver. The next few days, we didn't leave the house, too busy getting caught up and laughing and hanging out. Charlee had never lived anywhere without a few hundred thousand people so coming to a place so small as our town was a bit of a shock. She'd known of course, I'd told her, but it was different seeing it up close and personal.
When Katie and my brother got home, we had a plan. Lara, my brother's girlfriend, called us about ten minutes away so we'd know they were coming. Lara was horrible at keeping secrets but she'd managed to keep this one, for which everyone was grateful. Charlee and I were in the living room, Supernatural playing on the TV, when Katie came in. At first, it was a bit chaotic as she was so focused on telling my mom about meeting her neice and nephew for the first time that she didn't notice Charlee.
Then, when she finally did and my mom told her to meet Andre, she just stared blankly for a few minutes. Charlee and I were grinning, unable to help it. Finally, Katie looked at my mom, and in a dazed sort of voice, said, “That's not Andre.”
Then she threw herself at Charlee and burst out crying.
The week Charlee was with us was incredibly fun and very bittersweet. We had seven days to make up for not seeing each other for six years and while it was incredibly fun, it, well, sucked when we remembered she did have to leave. By the time we drove back to Denver to the airport, it was like the trip there only instead of being quiet because I was so excited, I was quiet because I was dreading the moment I had to let her go through the security checkpoint.
Hugging her just outside of the line, I started crying and couldn't seem to stop. We promised to see each other in a month in Baltimore at a Convention but I'm a naturally paranoid person so for all I knew, this would be the last time. Finally, after a good ten minutes of clinging, I let her go. We didn't leave until she was safely through the checkpoint and on her way to the terminals.
That night, I cried myself to sleep.
July 6th, 2010
Charmander: Our lives are so surreal.
Snorlax: Seriously
I've seen Charlee in person a few times since 2008, most notably in Baltimore and Denver for a convention she talked me into going to. Each time has been different but our connection has never changed. We're still best friends, confidants, the yang to my yin. Incredibly different, I like to think we're proof that opposites really do attract.
I have plans to see her again in a couple weeks, when my family takes our first vacation in years. We'll be driving through Arizona to California and she and her mom have offered to put us up for our stay in the desert state. We'll be together, like old times, and I have a feeling neither one of us will be sleeping much during it.
We met when we were eight, when our biggest decision was whether or not to risk the wrath of our parents by not doing our homework. We're in our mid-twenties now, in college and working, respectively. Separated by state lines but connected with phone calls and emails and Twitter, we're still friends, still sisters, still arguing over who won our first fight.
And she still answers to Charmander.
