I slowly start to peel away the wrapping paper. They have wrapped it so nicely, I almost don’t want to disturb the paper. I imagine them going to the store, picking a gift together, and then sitting at the kitchen table to wrap it carefully. The thoughtfulness overwhelms me.

When I finally open it, I stare down and cry. They have given me a journal that says on the front, “You are unlimited Sis, be fearless in your pursuits.” They have included one of the nicest pens I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Nebo did the art on the front. You know he always been artistic. We couldn’t find no notebook we liked at Walmart, so we got him to draw dat on it. You like it?”

“I love it.”

Rone smiles chummily, like he always does when he’s pleased with himself.

My conscience sits on top of me like a sumo wrestler. I can’t lie anymore. I prepare to tell them the truth.

“Hey, I gotta tell ya’ll somethin’,” I say finally.

“Look, da train!” Dre says suddenly, stealing my moment of truth. “Where you think it’s goin’ this time?”

“I’on know,” I respond. “Pennsylvania, probably. Somewhere in the Midwest, maybe?”

We all sit in silence. Watching the end of the train rumble off. Each lost in the heaviness of our own thoughts.

“You never thought about tryin’ ta go to college, Dre?” I ask curiously. “You really good at artistic stuff too.”

“I’d rather save my talents for the ladies,” he says, laughing to himself.

“I thought Rone was the one spreading his talents among the ladies.”

“He’s not the only one.” Fourth swig.

“I’m serious.”

“I’on know, sis. Maybe. I’on like ta think about it. I try ta live in da moment. Like what dem Buddhist people be sayin’. I saw a show ’bout dat on PBS once. Dere’s dese people dat just sit and breathe and try to be in da moment. Dey must not have no stress in dey life and no thoughts in dey head to sit and do dat ’cause I cain’t sit more den three seconds befo’ my mind starts racin’. Only thing dat quiet it down is my old friend Colt and my other friend Marty”—marijuana. “Maybe one day I’a go to college. We’a see what happens. For now, it’s breathe in”—swig—“breathe out. Ahhh.”

I shake my head in disappointment, both at him and myself for not saving him from Colt and Marty and all their consequences.

“What did you want to tell us, by the way? Befo’ the train came,” Dre asks.

I hesitate. The moment has passed. “Oh, it wasn’t nothin’ important. Thank you both for this gift. It really means a lot to me.” I put the journal and pen back in the box and take off my jacket.