Eve

By Sophie Vandenbrink

The first time she jumped, she was five. With her sparkly pink lifejacket scrunched around her shoulders and hips, she peeped over the edge of the rock.

“Come on, Eve,” her dad called from the water. “I’ll catch you.”

“Yeah, Evie!” Whooped her brothers and sister as they splashed and dunked under one of the higher cliffs.

It had felt like a much better idea when she’d watched them jump – but if she didn’t, she’d be Silly Little Evie all over again.

She closed her eyes and jumped.

***

At six years old, Evie didn’t need anyone to catch her anymore. Her new lifejacket fit properly, even if her bathing suit was a little big – yet another hand-me-down from her older sister, Kennedy.

“Kenney, watch me jump, watch me jump!” Evie yelled before pitching herself off the side of the ledge. She shrieked as she hit the water, but her lifejacket bobbed her right back up. Rolling onto her back, she kicked her way over to her sister. “Did you see me? Did you see me?”

“You did great!” Kennedy ruffled her younger sister’s hair with a smile. “Let’s go again.”

***

Lucky number seven brought Eve all the superiority and unearned confidence of the average second grader.

“Eves, it’s time to get out now,” her dad called, hauling blankets and toys over to the little red wagon that used to hold her.

“But I can’t,” she sighed. “I need a prince to save me so I can have legs again!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be trying to get your voice back?” Kennedy asked, toweling her hair off.

“No.”

“…Like Ariel?”

“Of course not, Kenney. She doesn’t need a voice. But she does need legs.” Evie wiggled her toes and giggled.

Kennedy laughed and dove back in, careful not to get her hair wet again. Standing in the shallows, she scooped Eve up and carried her over the rocks to their father. “Here’s one princess, sir,” she bowed. “Will the royal wagon do for milady?”

Kennedy plopped Eve in the wagon and made trumpeting noises as their father dragged the wagon home.

***

So far, Evie’s lofty expectations of being eight weren’t quite measuring up.

Visually, eight was an appealing number – two round circles stacked on top of each other like a vertically challenged snowman. Tip it over and it kept its even structure, resembling an infinity sign – another good thing.

Eve took this to mean that eight meant an infinite number of possibilities… though after a few months of consideration and mild disappointment, she could concede that perhaps eighteen held those possibilities instead.

She dangled her toes in the water at the bottom of the cliff and sighed, feeling the hazy evening glow of midsummer wash over her. Eight wasn’t much better than seven.

“Bored?” Kennedy climbed down beside her.

“Being eight sucks. All it means is more chores.”

“Well, I was eight when you were born.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It gets more exciting. I promise.”

***

Eve crouched behind a bush at the top of the cliff, watching Kennedy and her friends jump from the highest one. After all, what nine-year-old didn’t spy on her big sister’s seventeenth birthday party?

Evie deeply admired Kennedy – long hair, a job, dimples – and desperately wished to be her sister’s best friend. It wasn’t fair – Eve wasn’t allowed to go off the top cliff yet, and definitely not without a grown-up. She was barely allowed to even go outside by herself, but Kennedy was allowed to do everything?

She rolled onto her back with a sigh.

“Evie?”

Eve opened her eyes. Kennedy stood, dripping and silhouetted by the sun, with her hands on her hips. “’Sup?”

Kennedy raised her eyebrows. “Are you going to lie in the dirt all day or do you want to come swimming?”

Evie beamed and scrambled to her feet. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” but she smiled anyway.

Eve giggled and climbed down the rocks to jump in.

***

Eve liked being ten. If eight had been a disappointment, ten made up for it – she could walk to the convenience store by herself, she was allowed to try jumping off the second-highest jumping rock, and now that Kennedy was away at school, she even got her own room.

Not during the summer, though, Eve learned, if the second mattress on the floor of her bedroom was any indication.

“You can’t come in!” Kennedy yelled as Eve banged on the door.

“No fair! It’s my room now!”

“Give me five minutes.”

“No! Let me in!” Eve demanded, rattling the knob as hard as she could.

“Three minutes.”

“No!” Eve pulled off her watch and stuck the edge of the clasp in the lock.

“Eve…”

She wiggled it around and the lock gave. Eve swung the door open and slammed it as hard as she could.

“Eve!”

Eve ran outside and hid down on the rocks until suppertime.

Maybe ten wasn’t perfect after all.

***

“Okay, so when you’re jumping, you need to make sure you point your toes and keep your hands close to your sides, right?”

Eve was doing an excellent job of pretending to listen to her sister. Now twelve, she was finally allowed to jump off the highest cliff (if she felt up to it), but she had no interest in listening to the ‘hard-learned advice’ spilling out of her sister’s mouth at a rapid rate.

“I understand.” Eve had learned a long time ago that saying ‘this is boring’ only ended up with more listening. “Can I jump now?”

Kennedy shrugged, “Sure.”

Eve backed up as far as she could and raced off the edge. It felt like flying, and she spread her arms and soaked up the sun –

The cold water, normally so soft and gentle, slapped her with brutal, stinging force. She inadvertently let out her breath of air and made to scramble for the surface, lungs burning. She gasped for air, breaking the surface, and heaved herself over to the side.

“You okay? That sounded bad.”

Eve wheezed a thumbs up.

Kennedy poked her head over the side, saw the red bruises from the water, and shrugged again. “I told you so.”

***

Sixteen meant driving. Eve and Kennedy were sitting on the edge of the car’s trunk, eating ice cream and watching the sunset.

“School starts soon.”

“Yeah.” Eve wasn’t thrilled. “For you too.”

Kennedy smiled, “I’m almost done. Two more years and you can call me Doctor Kennedy.”

They both laughed softly and turned back to their ice creams.

Kennedy looked up at her younger sister, suddenly serious. “We should name our kids after each other.”

“What?”

“When you have a little girl, name her Kennedy. I’ll name mine Evie, and then if anything happens, we’ll always have each other.”

“…Okay. Kenney, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Kennedy smiled again. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

***

Eve had come back home from second year university to an unpleasant surprise.

“It’s so beautiful outside,” Kennedy mused. A perfectly ordinary observation, but Kennedy was looking anything but ordinary – her face was gaunt, and her skin was pale.

“Kennedy, what the hell?” Eve was angry, but she was also concerned – it was a confusing combination.

“I’m sick, Eve. And I didn’t tell you because you needed to finish your year up.”

“What kind of sick?”

“Sick-sick. But it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? Kennedy!” Eve stopped walking.

“It’s not! I’m going to be fine.”

“What if you’re not?”

Kennedy’s eyes filled with tears. It broke Eve’s heart to watch her try to blink them away. “Then you’ll keep going. You always do. Evie, I love you so much-” Kennedy doubled over, coughing.

“Kennedy!” Eve helped Kennedy walk back to the house, but her heart stayed at the rocks.

***

Eve didn’t go to the rocks again.

***

“Mama!” A little girl, pudgy with baby fat and decorated with angelic little curls, toddled over to Evie.

She pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead and scooped her up. Eve was twenty-six now, with a husband and baby girl. She had finally caved, now that the little girl was old enough to swim in the lake, to come stay with her father at the house by the cliffs.

“You doing okay, Eves?” her husband asked.

Eve smiled tightly, “I’m always okay. Come on, baby girl, let’s go swim.”

Eve carefully set her down at the water’s edge.

Eve eased herself into the water. It had been six years since Kennedy had passed, and Eve still felt the lack of her presence every day. She hadn’t come to see her father at his house at all after Kennedy had gone – their childhood bedroom sat untouched with stuffed animals and old lip-glosses decorating the desks.

“Ready to jump?”

The little girl beamed. Eve’s heart broke at the familiar smile – it had once decorated her namesake’s face. “Have me, Mama?”

Eve held out her arms. “I promise.” And she always kept her promises. “I’ll always have you, Kenney.”