Mockingbird (12 page)

Dad wipes his eyes and I do too because mine are blurry and somehow I think it’s really important to see right now. What I see is that his body is shaking which means he’s crying and soon his voice comes out in strange-sounding gasps that sound like he is laughing weirdly or throwing up except nothing is coming out of his mouth. Finally he covers his face with his hands and stops the noise and his body stops shaking and after he sniffs twice he takes his hands away from his face and turns his head to me.

I shrug.
I’m really working hard on finesse.

Then he takes my hands in his and I don’t even pull them away because he is looking at my cuts closely and I would want to do that too if I saw cuts on somebody’s hands so I let him look.

I don’t know if he means to keep cutting the oak tree or work on the chest but I say,
Yes,
just in case he means the chest.

I shake my head.
No. I know it will.

He blows a little air out of his nose and nods. He lets go of my hands and does one more big sigh.
Maybe we can make something good and strong and beautiful come out of this.

Good and strong and beautiful. I like those words. They sound like Devon. I want to build something good and strong and beautiful.

Okay,
Dad says
. Let’s do it.

YAY!
I shout!
YAY DAD! YAY FOR ME! YAY FOR DEVON! LET’S START NOW!

Dad puts his arms up like he’s being arrested.
Okay. Okay.
This means quiet.

When can we start
? I whisper.

I already read them!
I shout because I forget to whisper.

He nods.
Okay. You’ll still need to do some hands-on learning. You have to do it and feel it to really Get It.

He nods.

He sighs.
Okay.

 

 

After I go to bed I decide I should take the sheet off the chest to remind Dad we have to work on it but I have to stay up a long long time because Dad sits on the sofa forever just staring at the sheet. When he goes to bed I get up and go to the living room and take the sheet off the chest and I smile at all of its parts because we are finally going to have Closure.

And I hide the sheet inside my purple fleece and stuff it way under my bed where Dad can’t find it in case he changes his mind.

CHAPTER 29

PUTTING OUR LIFE BACK TOGETHER

I SHOW DAD DEVON’S LIST AND he nods. We go to Lowe’s and get a lot of the supplies on the list including quarter-cut oak. We also buy things that aren’t on the list. Like wood filler.

Before we can add anything to the chest Dad first has to put wood filler where the holes are from when he wrenched out the screws and threw the chest on the floor on The Day Our Life Fell Apart. He also has to cut out some sections that he destroyed when he kicked the chest on The Day Our Life Fell Apart. I think about those words and how I haven’t said them lately. I think that maybe now is the day we start to put our life back together.

It takes Dad a long time to fix the parts that he broke. He scrunches up his face and makes noises like it hurts him as much as the chest. He even says,
This is rough,
and,
This is hard.

I know,
I say, after he says,
This is hard,
for the third time.
This is what happens when you have a TRM,
I tell him.
You make a mess. It’s okay. You just have to try harder next time.

I am trying hard,
Dad says.

Thanks.
His lips press together and it almost looks like a smile. I forgot that Dad used to smile. I wonder if Closure will make him smile.

 

 

After a while Dad sits on the sofa and turns on Fox Five News.

You’re not quitting are you?
I ask him.

Okay.
I run to Devon’s room. I find the Mission book and start to leave but look back at the room. The sun is shining behind Devon’s blue shade and I go back in to put his shade up so the sun pours in and makes his room warm and bright and I can see dust particles in the beams of light that maybe are part of Devon or maybe not but they make Devon’s room look happy again.

Coming!
I say. But first I do something important. I leave Devon’s door open.

When I come back in the living room the news lady is talking about the Virginia Dare shooter.
He was obviously disturbed,
she says,
just like the boys involved in today’s school shooting in Maryland
.
Let me warn you that the video we are about to show of the event has some very disturbing content.

Dad grabs the remote and shuts off the TV.

We both sit on the sofa without moving.

I hug the Mission book but it’s not the same as my Dictionary. It doesn’t take away the recess feeling in my stomach.

I would rather be under the sofa cushion than on top of it but I’m frozen in place.

We both look at the chest in the corner.

Dad sighs.

There is no face for Disturbed on the Facial Expressions Chart so I don’t know exactly what it looks like. But I know it’s not good. It’s the kind of face that gives you a bad feeling because I thought everything would be okay now that we’re working on the chest. But it’s still not.

CHAPTER 30

FRIENDS

OKAY,
I TELL MRS. BROOK,
NOW it’s soon. I’m ready.

She doesn’t Get It.
The whole friendship thing. It’s time now.

Oh Caitlin!
Mrs. Brook claps.
I’m delighted! What changed your mind?

Dad is working on the chest. It’s hard for him. He really has to Work At It. If he can do it then I guess I can too. And also . . . maybe it really will help me get to Closure.
The chest alone does not seem to be working.

I shake my head.
I don’t think I’m going to like it at all. I think it’s going to hurt. But after the hurt I think maybe something good and strong and beautiful will come out of it.
Just like Dad said about the chest.

Mrs. Brook smiles so wide she has two rows of dimples. Her cheeks puff up and her eyes squish and water comes out of them and her face looks a little bit like a sponge.

 

 

At reading buddies time I manage not to scare my buddy. I keep my voice down. And I smile. Sometimes. I think it’s a good start.

I do the special wave to Michael across the room. I think he grins even more than when Josh high-fives him which makes me feel very happy about how good I am at friendship.

 

 

In the cafeteria I sit down next to Laura who is very pretty and very popular. I think she should be my friend.

What are you doing?
Laura asks.

Laura looks at the people around her. They are all giggling and holding their trays but not sitting down. These are the girls who usually sit at Laura’s table.

You can sit down,
I tell them.

They look at each other and laugh or roll their eyes.

You’re sitting where Anna sits,
Laura says.

Oh,
I say. It’s nice of her to tell me because I honestly don’t remember where every one of them sits. I take a bite of my cheese sandwich.

So move,
Laura says. Her eyes are getting squishy and narrow.

I Look At The Person.
Where do you want me to sit?

I take my tray and go to the table where I normally sit. Okay. That did not work. I can try someone else. But first I eat my sandwich because I’m hungry.

When I finish both halves I notice Mia at the next table. She is not as pretty and not as popular as Laura but she could still be a good friend.

I go over to her and say,
Hi.

Then I go back to my table and drink my juice box.

When I’m done I go say,
How are you?
to Mia because that’s being polite.

O-kaaay,
she says slowly.

I go back and sit down. Then I realize maybe she’s not okay because her okay sounded kind of weird.

I go back to her.
Hi.

She stares at me. So do Emma and some other girls who are with her.
What do you want?
Mia asks.

Um . . . I really just want to be alone.
Mia starts giggling.

Emma frowns at her.
Mi-a!
she says in Dad’s warning voice.

I can still Work At being a friend though because all through lunch people keep coming up to Mia and bothering her. Every single time I go and tell those people,
Leave Mia alone. She wants to be alone today.

Mia gets mad every time I have to say it. It doesn’t make me mad though. I don’t mind. I’m a good helper. And a good friend.

Finally Mia yells at me except I’m so surprised she’s yelling at me that I don’t even know what she says.

Emma comes into my Personal Space.
Caitlin. Um. Listen. You’re really annoying Mia. You have to stop telling people to leave her alone.

Emma sighs.
You don’t Get It. Mia doesn’t really want everyone to leave her alone.

Emma sighs again.
She wants YOU to leave her alone. Only you.

Emma looks at the floor.
Well . . . because . . . she thinks you’re . . . different.

I think Emma is the one who doesn’t Get It.

When we’re in music Rachel throws up so Emma takes her to the school nurse. The teacher is busy trying to get someone to clean up the puke and everyone is saying,
Ew! P-U!
so I go over to Mia and ask her,
Why do you want me to leave you alone?

Mia and the girls around her giggle.
Okay. Um. Because you’re . . . special.

Thank you,
I say.

More giggles.

I mean,
Mia says,
you’re the kind of special that’s a little weird.

Mia crosses her arms and breathes out LOUD.
Your behavior? You know?

What do you mean?
I ask.

She rolls her eyes.
Your behavior is . . . well . . . disturbing.

Disturbing?
My behavior is disturbing? The school shooter’s behavior was disturbing. I start shaking my hands because that word is too scary and I can barely breathe.

She looks at my hands that are shaking faster and faster.
Yes. Disturbing.

You’re disturbing us right now,
one of the girls says. The rest of them start laughing.

Guys, guys!
another girl says.
Stop it! Stop laughing! She’s autistic. Like William H.

My hands are shaking really fast now.
I am NOT autistic!

Some of the girls laugh.

William eats DIRT and SCREAMS when he gets mad! I AM NOT AUTISTIC!
I am breathing hard and I want to jump out of my skin but I grit my teeth and shake my hands harder and turn and run away and I hear screaming and I don’t know if it’s music class or Mia or me.

 

 

I am sitting in Mrs. Brook’s room staring at the table.
I thought special was good,
I mutter.