Waiting (24 page)

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Authors: Carol Lynch Williams

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Family, #Siblings, #Social Issues, #Suicide, #Depression & Mental Illness

BOOK: Waiting
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Daddy raises his voice and the whole family is coming apart at the seams like a fabric that should have held together but couldn’t all because of one choice.

 

I touch my face, it’s burning now, and then I run to the waiting room because I can’t go farther than that.

Run as fast as I can out of there

out of there

out of there

 

And wait.

 

Because he’s gone for good and we have to let him go a broken family.

 

I remember this
all in the foyer, walking down the hall through the dining room to the living room.

 

“Let’s kiss in here, Jesse,” I say.

 

“I should go back to school,” he says, but he’s sliding his arms around me and pulling me close, and I think of Taylor in the waiting room, see that he’s been crying, then press my mouth to Jesse and try to erase everything anything all of it every bit of my brother’s death—something I can’t do with Taylor.

 

If my mother
were to see me now.

What would she think?

My hands on him, his on me.

Cleave unto your spouse,
I think, and I laugh midkiss, my palms under Jesse’s shirt. His skin is so smooth. He’s so warm.

 

Where are Mom and Dad?

I lead Jesse into the family room, where I used to watch
The Office
reruns with Zach and Rachel and Taylor. We sit next to each other and I don’t know why but while we’re kissing I start crying. I mean.

I don’t make a sound or anything, but the tears run down my face.

 

Jesse moves away a bit, looks at me. Runs his thumbs across my cheeks. “Oh, London,” he says. “Your heart is broken, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes,” I say.

 

And even though I want him to kiss me more and more and more, he just wraps his arms around me and pulls me close.

 

No sex.

 

If
my mother knew how he saved me, she’d fold up on herself. Maybe tear her eyes away from my brother’s memory long enough to shout her disgust.

 

No sex.

But I could go there, would go there, if he asked me if he said it would save me would keep me here make my mother notice me again.

 

I don’t tell him any of that. I just weep, his arms around me until Lili and Lauren and Taylor arrive, walking into the house without even waiting for me to say, “Come in.”

 

I talk to
them about the end with my brother.

 

The hanging

Him kicking the wall as he struggled before we got in

there

how I heard him and didn’t know at first

just thought he was mad because of the fight

had no idea

and then somehow, somehow KNEW I should hurry

hurry hurry

get in there

screaming for Mom

the kicking getting less

trying to get the door open

hitting it

hitting

it splintering.

Mom arguing with me

how we tried so hard to save him

Daddy taking over

the EMTs

 

My poor brother, never regaining consciousness.

 

And then the blaming,

the slap,

the screaming,

the silence.

 

My own death here

in this house too,

and I’m not even sure

why.

 

“I tried to make him live,” I say to them all. Lauren is crying and so is Lili. Taylor looks out the window the whole time I talk. Jesse still holds me but his arms are loose and I think of Jesus’s arms and how I need Him,
that’s
who I need and I know I know Him through these friends but that I’m going to have to keep following Him to keep whole.

 

They stay for
hours.

And I want them to live with me, all of them, petting me and touching my hair and letting me cry and talk and hugging me and all that. Something I haven’t gotten in so long.

 

Daddy comes home and when he walks in the family room we all look at him and he looks at us and then he says, “Have you been remembering my son?” Lauren rushes to him and hugs him. She’s not crying anymore but I can tell she’s close to tears. Daddy stands there, still, then puts his arms around her. “He was great,” Lauren says. “No. He
is
great.”

 

Lili says, “And so is London. She’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” Her words are a surprise.

She looks at her brother. “She needs you.” And I can’t tell if she’s talking to Daddy or Jesse. Jesse runs his hand over my shoulder. Then Lili says, “We have to go home.”

She almost smiles. “Or Mom’s going to have a miocardial infarction.”

 

Everyone stands to go and right at that moment I hear Mom come into the house. Daddy looks over his shoulder and his eyebrows knit together. Is he scared of her too? Or of what might come?

 

Mom is in
the room, and it’s like we all take a breath.

She steps forward when we inhale, it seems, staggers a moment, looks at Daddy and then at the boys in the room. She sees Lauren, raises her eyebrows. Her face grows hard. I can see she’s had her nails done. She never once looks at me.

 

“Allen, you know I don’t like company when I’m not warned.”

Her voice is a sheet of ice. Her words slide down toward us, land in a pile in the front of the group.

 

Lauren straightens her back. I bet she gets three inches taller. Does she remember when she was caught with Zach? Of course she does. She opens her mouth to speak, and my words seem to come from her mouth.

 

“These are
my
friends,” I say. “They’re here for me.” “Get out,” Mom says, and she doesn’t look in my direction. Nine months’ practice, she doesn’t even glance at me. “No!” My voice comes out louder than I intend. “They’re here for me.” I see Lili move a little. Start. She’s uncomfortable, I can tell. Even though she stood to go, Lili sits back down and then pats the sofa. “Jesse,” she says. Her voice is weak.

 

“I think,” Daddy says.

 

“No!” I say again, and my voice is louder this time. “No! I have friends. I’m here still. I’m not dead. Zach is dead. I’m here.”

 

That gets my mother. I can tell. There’s penetration. My words have struck a mark. Still she says nothing, doesn’t look at me. She lowers her voice like a bull getting ready to charge. “Leave. My. Home.”

 

“Kids,” Daddy says. “I think it’s best. . . .”

 

I’m not sure how it happens, but I move from where I am near Jesse to Mom. I almost fall, tripping over someone’s feet. Lauren grabs me. I thought she hated me. No, I hated her. No, I hate my mom.

 

“I begged for you to help me,” I say.

The Death is there. In the room with us. On my lips.

We’ve been talking about it so it’s uncovered from where I’ve kept it hidden.

“I called you. Called you.”

Mom looks at me.

“He was alive. And I begged you to help me. We could hear him.”

 

“Shut up.” Mom’s voice is a whisper.

“I called for you and you said he’s just throwing a tantrum, and I said, ‘Help me, something’s wrong in there.’ And by the time you came with that key, it was too late. He wasn’t alive anymore.”

“Shut up!”

“If you would have listened! If you would have helped.”

“Shut up!”

“You needed someone to blame and you chose me.”

“Shut up!”

“It wasn’t me, Mom! I didn’t kill Zacheus. He killed himself.”

 

Mom slaps me, hard.

Lili lets out a cry.

Daddy moves and Taylor leaps near me.

I put my hand out, touch my face where it burns, lean at my mother. When I speak, I’m screaming. “I did the best I could. And I’m here, alive.” My voice soars toward the ceiling. I want to grab her, shake her, make her understand. “I still love you! Please love me back.” I almost can’t get the words out, I’m crying that hard.

 

Mom leans so close I can smell her lipstick. Between clenched teeth she says, “I quit loving everyone the day my son died. And that includes you.”

Her words are a fist to my gut.

 

“Eva,” Daddy says. “Oh, Eva.”

 

“I’m done,” Mom says. “I’m done with all this.” She leaves then. Goes to the room she shares with Daddy.

 

And I’m left alone.

 

No!

Not alone.

Not this time.

 

Alone.

Mom packs.
Daddy goes in to her. I can hear him talking, his voice soothing and then rising in desperation.

 

“We’d better go,” Lauren says, and Lili nods.

Lauren comes close, puts her arms around me tight.

“Your brother was my first real heartbreak,” she says.

She presses her lips to my cheek where my mother slapped me. “I’m so glad he was my first true love.”

 

Lili hugs me next. Her eyes are shiny with tears. “London, you’re a great friend,” she says, and she hugs me so tight she squeezes the breath out of my lungs.

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