The facility yard was hard-packed dirt and potential when we arrived this morning. Now there's structure to it.
Carter showed up around noon, came through the gate, took one look at the retaining wall situation, and went directly to it without being asked. He's been at it for hours, concrete mix and block work, his shirt soaked through the back, looking more alive than I've seen him in weeks.
Further along the yard Adrian has been crouched beside a kid named Emilio working through the assembly of the vertical gardening towers. Adrian showing him, the kid watching his hands, then trying it himself. Adrian adjusting. The frames are almost done.
Dust everywhere. The smell of fresh concrete, turned soil and something green underneath. Irrigation hoses run across the yard in three directions. Two correctional officers along the perimeter, surveying. A group of inmates at the south beds spreading mulch, quiet and methodical. Somewhere behind me someone's dropped a crate of stakes and they're clanging across the concrete. Volunteers shouting across the yard at each other. A wheelbarrow going by.
And, in the middle of it all, Sienna
She's in the mini bobcat moving a load of soil from the south pallet to the north beds and she handles the machine effortlessly. She reverses in a clean arc around a pile of irrigation equipment. Tips the load exactly where it needs to go.
Who knew I would get hard by watching a woman driving heavy machinery.
Not a woman. Sienna.
My sister is also here. She doesn’t have her arm on a sling anymore, but she still needs to take it easy, so she is at the truck, with the tailgate down and she is in charge of drinks and snacks for the volunteers.
And, that’s where I am now. Taking a break and having some water.
"Happy to see you up and about." I say. She looks good. Color in her face. I watch her hand something to a passing volunteer and I think back to when Sienna called me from the hospital, the cold drop of it, the instant narrowing of everything.
"Don't do that again," I say.
Charlotte smiles. "I'll do my best."
My eyes go back to Sienna. She has stopped the bobcat and is now talking to one of the inmates over the cab pointing at the south beds.
"So…" Charlotte says.
I look at her.
"This thing between you, the guys and Sienna…" and she doesn’t finish the sentence, waiting for me to fill in with the missing information.
I take a drink of water and ponder on how much to tell her. Afterall Sienna is one of her best friends and this situation is not conventional. "It's new. We are all trying to figure things out. But it's real."
I look directly at her trying to gauge her reaction.
She just raises her hands, palms out, "Hey. No judgment here." She settles back against the truck. "Remember, I’m a cop. I’ve seen some shit that made me believe that at the end of the day what matters is to love and if you get lucky, be loved in return. No matter what shape or form"
Love.
I look at Sienna across the yard.
Is that the name for this feeling that fills my chest whenever I think of Sienna? This want. This need. To always want to know she's okay, before I think about anything else. I want to be the person standing next to her when something good happens.
My thoughts start to spiral and I need to stop them. I elbow my sister and ask, "When did you get so smart?"
She grins. Shrugs. "What can I say? I was raised right." and she looks at me with emotion in her eyes.
I know what she is saying. I practically raised her. My father was present, but he became consumed by the grief for my mother and that took up a lot of space.
I reach over and just squeeze her arm.
"I mean it," she says, and her voice is slightly different now. Quieter. She's looking at the ground. "You are the best big brother a girl could have."
She pauses. Her jaw shifts, something tightening there. "And that's why I need to tell you something. Something I've been carrying for years and has been weighing on me."
A long breath. "I used to think it didn't matter if you knew or not." She looks at Sienna again. "But now I know that I owe you the truth."
