being Darwin

Beach caught a wild mouse and named it Ninja but we all called it Crack. She kept it inside a wooden framed box with thin wire netting for sides. The box was meant for bees but it kept the wild mouse trapped on the same shelf that holds Darwin in his brightly colored plastic cage.

It was never assumed Ninja would still be there the next time she checked.

Darwin was store bought. Labeled "fancy", which in comparison to the wild one meant stupid and boring: reliably tame.

After a few days Beach felt bad for the wild one who seemed to wilt in captivity and she let him go in the far field. 

She doesn't feel bad for Darwin. It doesn't occur to her that he might want out too. 

She makes him tiny salads and teaches him to trust her hand. She counts on him being in his cage, waiting for her, waiting for scraps of food and scraps of time.    

I was married at 18. 
Had 2 kids by the time I was 21. 

I look at Sarah and I look at me and I can't figure it out. 

I once told her she was seeming very overly domesticated and was beginning to pace the cage. I had been right. Within days she slipped the bars. After awhile of free running she settled back down & reset all the traps.

I cook hot breakfast for the kids & let my coffee get cold. I do laundry in bare feet on a cement floor- even in the winter. I cut toast in triangles, sandwiches into rectangles, and I ignore uneaten crust from both.  

I drive our little souls around while they sing and gossip in the backseat. At break the Little Giants file pass the desk. Most pause long enough to at least call me mom, or ask if I was watching them "when". As if they believe I can hold each of them forever. Maybe I can.

I slip out for the house to run alone but I never really get to leave it all behind. It is not in my nature.

But what I wanted last night was very simple. It showed up in my dreams and left when the morning broke. I think when today ends....

Sometimes I hold us up to each other, Sarah and I, and I try to see the reason behind it all. Sometimes I just lay her image over my sister's shadow and wonder how much separates us. How thin is the line?

I don't know what makes us different, or the same.

I don't know what makes us not see the truth in Darwin.