* I HAVE LOST IT ALL, [nell's timeline]

[NELL DOE DALE]

July 10, 1998

Nell rested her head against the wall, squinting her eyes as if that could make her feel better. She kept her gaze on the shadows breaking through light underneath her bedroom door. The hallway was quiet, the only other sound coming from the television. Her mother had fallen asleep. "It's your choice," she heard the man say. "She could either stay at the hospital, or stay here..." She didn't catch the rest, but once she heard the footsteps shuffling around, she hurriedly picked herself up and slid into the kitchen, pretending that she had been sitting reading the paper. The doctor waved to her as he left, and she grinned and waved back. Her father came after him, looking over at her sitting at the table, swinging her legs back and forth. "No more eavesdropping," he said sternly, his eyes level with hers. She diverted her gaze, as if that didn't just add suspicion. Nell knew there was no arguing with him. "Do they know what's wrong with Tilly yet?" she chirped, eyes imploring as they searched the man's. He rifled through the mail that sat on the table, not meeting her gaze. "She's just sick." She wasn't stupid or too naive, she understood that there was something more. At five, she had inherited her father's intellect, because he made sure to pass it down.

Nell pushed out of the chair, and rushed back to the room, pushing it open to find Tilly asleep, curled up in a ball. She wanted to wake her up and talk to her about what the doctor had said, but her father always told her not to. It wasn't fair to the girl. So she just sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the nightstand, the drawers that held the paper cranes. Her eyes went to the window. There had to be something more. There was always something more than what was behind these walls. And she would find it. The unspoken rule was that you couldn't unlock the doors. She tried one time, and her mother's grip was on her fast as a phantom, and she had been spanked for it. She'd have never spanked Till, though. However, Nell wouldn't use the door. She didn't need it.

-

She shouldn't have been out there. The graffiti on the walls were like warning signs. Go back, stay away, shouldn't you be at home with your mother? She ignored them as she pulled up the collar of her shirt. Nell didn't have proper outerwear, and she'd convinced herself that this would be just as well. The air tasted like fumes and dying grass that had recently been cut. Every movement had her on edge, the clang of a lid hitting the cement jolting her into a run. Her feet hit the pavement without her even knowing where she was going, heart beating against her ribcage, begging for release. She didn't stop until she felt like her lungs were going to give out, and she panted as she looked around. Where was she? Then, a horrifying thought occurred to her. What if she could never find her way back? What if she was lost forever?

Nell didn't know what to do from there. Press on? Try to find her way back? The moon was a big white eye without an iris, staring at her. She was afraid it would tell on her, shine through to her mother and inform her of where her daughter had gotten to. She swallowed, her Mary Janes tapping against the pavement as she begun again. She thought it would be warmer in the summer, but she'd been wrong. Her jean pockets didn't provide enough warmth, and her nerves braced themselves for a gunshot, for someone to pop out and say 'boo'. Maybe this was a mistake, she shouldn't have been out there, she needed to go back. But then she saw a building, one of the only ones lit up. There was some graffiti, but otherwise it was the cleanest place there. The bricks had a green tint, and the windows were fat and square. A library. She crossed the street, not looking out for any cars, and pulled open the door. It was almost as cold as outside, but the light reassured her.

"We close at eleven."

The voice startled her, and she whipped her head over to see a man wearing a sweater vest and bifocals. His hair looked like smoke on his head, as if he were on fire. A liver spot dotted his chin, a period on his face. But he was smiling, teeth falsely white. "O-okay," she said nervously, lips twisting into something she hoped resembled a smile. She turned to look at the shelving, florescent lights a beacon. Never had she seen so many books, and her feet carried her over to the first shelf she found. Paperback romances, science fiction with strange discs on their covers, ancient reference tomes. The books were all in poor condition, and she traced her fingers as she crossed them. She stopped at the big fat books, the numbers on their spines. Reference.

She didn't bother with a catalog, not knowing such a thing existed, simply looked for keywords. Finding the science books were easy, finding ones she specifically needed was the difficult part. Biology, chemistry, anatomy, what were all these things? She decided that she should take it one at a time, testing out the books. Nell chose a table, opened it up and squinted at the tiny print, big words dissected in parenthesis that were of no help, diagrams that were just as obscure as the language. For two hours, she poured over the books, slowly coming to terms with the meanings of the studies, writing down notes on her hands, fingers, no, they're called phalanges. Her peace shattered when she heard the voice from earlier. "Time to go, kiddo."

Nell blinked at Smokey, nodding silently as she picked up the latest book and returned it to the correct spot. He'd followed her, looking confused. "Is your mother coming to pick you up?" he questioned, and she shook her head. Should she lie? "No, I live across the street," she simply said, and even though she saw the doubt in his gaze, he nodded and left her. Nell didn't want to leave the place, but she knew she had to. Left. I'll go left. She didn't run, thinking it would only attract unwanted attention. Nell found their row house with relative ease, the only one with red shutters, and climbed up the fire escape, praying that it wouldn't creak under her weight. She leaned over and opened the window to her room, easing it up so that it wouldn't cause a loud sound. She squeezed in, and instantly Tilly was on her, pulling her through and closing the glass. Nell sat on the bed with her, legs folded underneath.

Tilly's eyes were wide and frantic. "Where were you?" she inquired under her breath, looking toward the door as if expecting someone to come through any second. Nell's own hushed voice was light and jovial. "I found a library, it was so neat. Look!" She showed the girl her arms, and Tilly took them in her fingers, running a thumb over ATP. "What is this?"

She grew even more excited, but reminded herself to keep her voice down. "It's biology! Like what papa studies, except not mixed with chemistry or whatever. I was looking up stuff for you. I might find a cure for what you have."

Stray light from the moon illuminated Till's eyes as they moved around her sister's face. "B-but...Dr. Frank..." Nell sighed, heavy and long. "He obviously doesn't know what he's doing. I mean, think about it. He says he doesn't know what's wrong, but he keeps coming back. He's just taking Papa's money!"

Till pulled back, shifted her legs a little. Her hair cascaded around her arms as she shook her head. "I don't know..."

Nell gripped her by the shoulders, eyes wide and stern. "Trust me, I can do it."

"But if Mama catches you, she'll be mad!"

"She won't catch me, okay." She saw the pills her mother took each night, peaking into the bathroom. "Just trust me."

Till decided to leave it at that, and Nell sat down next to her. From the nightstand drawer, she took out the tablet usually used for keeping game scores and wrote down the notes on her arms. She didn't sleep. Just as dawn's light started to arise, she tiptoed to the bathroom and washed the notes off, ink washing down the drain, skimming over the crack in the yellow porcelain. "Why are you up so early?" She didn't jump, but her breath caught in her throat, choking her up for a moment. Her father leaned against the door, already dressed. "I couldn't sleep." His gaze bored into hers, but this is one thing he couldn't wheedle out of her with intimidation.

[NELL DOE DALE]

September 10th, 1998

Nell sat out in the living room, crayons on the coffee table she knelt in front of. On her paper, she drew her family. Her mother wore a pretty pink dress, but Nell lamented the fact she couldn't get the dimple in her chin quite right. Her father wore a waistcoat, but she had to use her imagination to see it since in her interpretation it was a brown square. She and her sister held hands wearing matching dresses. Their earrings were different colors, however. She hummed softly to the music coming from the phonograph on the end table nearby. She didn't pay mind to the kitchen, where her aunt sat with coffee, looking down at her sister as she questioned how old she and Nell was. Apparently Jane became curious as to why the other girl wasn't in the kitchen, and stood.

Jane stepped out into the living room, the click of her heels sounding like the gait of city dogs that roamed the streets at night, sticking their noses in garbage bins by the road. Nell gazed back down on the crayon as she pressed it down on her paper. "Nelly, do you love your mother?" the woman asked as she knelt down, her voice filled with genuine curiosity. Nell turned her wide-eyed gaze to the kitchen, where Mia held Tilly against her side, bouncing the girl as she swayed her hips to Bizet. Nell nodded, and held up her picture, displaying it proudly to her aunt. "You can have this!" she proclaimed, and the woman took it in her fingers, looking at it, an unseen string tugging her lips into a smile.

"Where am I?" she said, her voice a light tease. Her hair looked like a waterfall in a picture her father had showed her once, wavy and glossy.

"You don't live here!" Nell said, hoping she hadn't offended the woman. Jane simply laughed and pinched her cheek, Nell's eyes catching the diamond ring on her finger. "Where's Uncle Danny?"

She thought she could see the woman's jaw tighten, but the woman's voice was clear at the voice on the record when she responded, "You have a new uncle. You'll get to meet him some time."

Nell nodded as if she understood completely, and took another sheet of paper. This time, she started drawing out a body, shaky but decently exact and anatomical. She used blue for the veins and red for the arteries as she drew them. The woman lifted an eyebrow. "Just like your father," she murmured. The words weren't filled with approval or fondness. She simply stated it as a fact.

-

After Jane left, their mother didn't speak. She washed dishes, her dark hair pulled into a bun, making her face look even rounder, more childlike. Till and Nell sat on the floor in front of the television, Charlie Chaplin waddling around with his bowler hat and cane on PBS, and Nell hummed along to the music she recognized as the ice cream truck's song. She dealt out a game of Rummy, keeping her eyes on her mother. She'd finished with the plates, and drank brandy straight from the bottle, placing it down in order to light a smoke.

"Papa said he'd be home late," Till commented, a frown pulling her lips down as if she could read her sister's mind.

In only a matter of minutes, Mia was on the couch, cigarette dying in the tray, her hair falling out of its rubber band and tumbling over the cushions. As the woman rested her arm of her eyes, Nell was reminded of a tragic heroine, Ophelia floating in the water, Desdemona in her husband's bed. The soft whistling from her nose spurred Nell to clean up the cards.

"I'll be back in two hours," she whispered to her twin, slipping her sneakers on, the fabric threadbare, soles falling off. "If I'm not, put pillows under the covers and tell mama I'm not feeling well."

She knew her sister would lie for her, no matter if she disapproved. The girl's expression was unreadable, but Nell imagined it's how she'd look if she were watching a pigeon with a broken wing.

Before Nell closed the door, she said, "Lock it after me," and waited to hear the click. She knew the bedroom window was always unlocked, her mother didn't pay enough attention to it. The streets never looked safer in the daylight. Instead, she could see the dangers too clear. Hooded figures like phantoms by the chain link fences, yellow eyes from alley ways, slow moving cars that rode low. She tried to pretend like she belonged here, like the girls skipping rope on the sidewalks, the cries of children as their mothers held them and patted their backs. The words she heard through windows were all Spanish, and she imagined she were living in a soap opera, imagined their lives as dramatic as the ones on Telemundo.

"Hey, missy, got change to spare?"

She stiffened at the voice, turned and laid eyes on a man with dark skin, dark eyes, dark everything. He looked like a blotch on the pavement, something that was once almost scraped off but the attempt stalled halfway through. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, shook her head. The man sighed. "Course you don't. But maybe you could give me something else?"

Nell tilted her head. Her face was like snowfall, clear water. "What can I give you?

He smiled, gold fillings. He has gold, she thought. Wasn't that worth money? Her ancestors stole it from the Aztecs, stole their gods and their life and their worth. He stood, shambling like a child on his first walk, and drew in close. The smell of urine and decay hit her, and she tried not to wrinkle her nose. Before anything else could happen, she felt a cool hand on her wrist. A broom descended upon the man, and he raised his hands up in defense as dust flew around in the air, a woman's voice hollering in Spanish. He grumbled and headed back down an alley, and Nell saw the woman, still speaking hurriedly in an affected accent, small child clinging to her dress. She slapped the girl on the rear, and urged her on. Nell was stunned, but moved along, unable to wait until she reached the comforts of the library.

-

Back home, her father came home only minutes after her. She ran up to him, tugging on his trousers so he'd pick her up and lift his eyebrow.

"Something to tell me?" he questioned, tone bordering on humorous, brown eyes sullen.

Nell shook her head, jabbed her finger into his chest when she said with a too-stern expression, "No, you need to tell me about the musculoskeletal system." On her arms, she marked the muscles and veins in pen, drew the arteries, veins, capillaries. Things her father had taught her.

"I thought I was going to teach you how to make paella today." He kissed her cheek and set her down, going over to where Mia still slept on the couch, undisturbed by her husband's entrance. He brushed the strands of hair away from her face, pressed his mouth against hers, like a prince trying to awaken his love. She slept on, and he went back to his room.

Nell returned to Tilly, found her small figure curled under the covers. She crawled into the bed with her, dropping her shoes to the floor. "Till," she said softly, treading as careful as a timid deer. The girls were small as is, but Till seemed to be imperceptible, as insignificant as a sneeze. She was shivering, and Nell curled up next to her. She knew the shivering wouldn't stop, and her own body shook with a cough. Before Till could close her fist, Nell saw the blood in her hand. "Seven-hundred cranes," Nell said, determined. She heard the creak of the door, and could feel her father's presence, she didn't need to see him. And as always, he shut the door on them.