The Year of My Miraculous Reappearance Page 6

  “It's like we're an old married couple already. No privacy. The kid comes first.”

  “You knew it was going to be this way, Snake, so lay off. You're being a jerk.”

  “Oh, I'm being a jerk. Right. It's always my fault.”

  “Look,” I said. “Forget the Grand Canyon. You need to get some sleep, and we need to get where we're going.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I don't know. Somewhere. Farther away than this. I'll drive all night. You'll feel better in the morning.”

  “You? You can't drive.”

  “Why can't I?”

  “It takes practice.”

  “Get real. You put it in drive, and you steer so you stay in the same lane. It's freeway all the way through.”

  “What if we get pulled over?”

  “Then we're dead one way or another. Neither one of us has a license.”

  We argued around about it until Bill started to cry, and then Snake gave up.

  “Fine,” he said. “Only be careful.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Trouble

  I tried to put Bill in the backseat, but he was feeling extra clingy. So I let him sit on my lap and I put the seat belt around both of us. It took me a minute to get used to the gas pedal, how hard to press, but once I got out on the freeway it seemed easy.

  Snake put his seat back and closed his eyes, and then the whole world got quiet. I liked the dark road. I liked Bill on my lap. I was whispering to him the whole time, telling him how good everything was going to be. How we'd live in a new place where no one would tell us what to do. The more I talked, the more he got nervous. If it hadn't been for Bill, I wouldn't have known I was lying. Underneath all my happy talk it seemed so scary, headed out into the night, headed for a new place, when we didn't even know where the new place was. How would we know when we got there?

  I opened the Scotch again and took a few slugs. I could feel it burn down into my belly, right where I needed it. The nice thing about a drink is that it can always find the place that needs warming up. After a while I felt real mellow and good. I was thinking that a bottle is the one thing that never lets you down. You think you know what it'll do for you, and you're always right. Not like people at all. Not like any other part of life. I could hear Snake snoring a little, and Bill fell asleep with his head halfway under my arm. That made it harder to steer but I didn't want to disturb him.

  I wished somebody would wake up and talk to me. I felt kind of alone. I kept thinking that at home, I had my mom to take care of things. Which is a joke, because she never did, only it seemed like it had helped me some, knowing she was there. Who was going to take care of everything now? I took a few more sips.

  I really didn't drink that much, though. I mean, I was driving. For the first time ever.

  I rolled down the window and the night came in and hit me in the face. I figured it would keep me awake, at least. I guess that's when I got the feeling I had about speed. I guess until I felt that air rush in, I didn't realize I was going fast. But the way it blew into my face made me think about riding on Zack's motorcycle. I remembered the way he hit the gas, and it made the wind blow around in my shirt. Then I thought about that night on the porch when I asked what made him feel whole for a second. Driving his bike too fast. That was the first thing he said, without even thinking. I wanted real bad to feel whole, so I decided to try it his way.

  I put the gas pedal all the way down. It took a minute for that poor tired old car to get it together, but then we were going really good. The night wind in my face was making me squint and pushing tears out of my eyes.

  I got this great rush where I felt like, Yeah. This is what we do. We do crazy shit, because we're broken. That's who we are. That's what we do.

  Then I saw flashing red lights come on in my rearview mirror. And I knew I was dead.

  I stomped on the gas even harder. I didn't know what else to do. I guess I thought I could still get away. I don't know what I thought. It was too much trouble to stop and face, so I just stomped on the gas.

  I heard a siren, and the lights kept up with me, and then I saw the road was curving, but by the time I saw guardrail coming right at me, it was too late.

  I tried to turn, but I think I pulled the wheel too hard. The car seemed to spin like it was alive on its own. No matter what I did it wouldn't stop spinning.

  We spun all the way across the freeway, three lanes, and I could hear Snake yelling.

  There was a guardrail on the other side, too, and we were headed right for it. I tried stomping on the brake, but the car was spinning all on its own and I think that made it worse. So I just closed my eyes and braced for it. There was nothing else I could do.

  It just all happened so fast.

  When I woke up I was in the hospital. It was late, and it was dark, and nobody was there but me. There wasn't even anybody in the other bed. It was sort of spooky.

  Then I guess I went back to sleep again, because when I woke up, it was light. There was a nurse standing over my bed. She was black, and really pretty, with that great kind of hair that's all little tiny braids. I wished my hair would do that.

  “You're awake,” she said.

  “I guess.”

  My left leg felt really heavy, like I almost couldn't feel it, but I knew it was there because it hurt. And the left side of my head hurt, too.

  “You might be about to wish you never woke up,” she said.

  “Why? What do you mean?” I couldn't get my brain to work right. It wasn't clear.

  “I mean, you are in quite a mess of trouble, girl. A great big old mess. I wouldn't want to trade places with you, that's what I'm saying. There were a couple of highway patrol guys in here waiting for you to wake up. I guess they're waiting to finish their report. They finally gave up. But they'll be back. Don't you worry.”

  Then she did something to the plastic bag that was hanging up beside the bed, dripping something down through a tube and into the back of my hand.

  All of a sudden I thought about Bill. “What about Bill?” I said. “Is Bill okay?”

  “Which one is Bill? The little guy or the big guy?”

  “The little one.”

  “He's in stable condition, I think. I think he's listed as stable. Got a mess of broken ribs. One of them punctured his lung. But he'll be okay. By and by.”

  “Can I see him? I really need to see him.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” she said. “I wouldn't count on that.”

  “But I need to see him.”

  “He's fine,” she said. “You just worry about your own self. You need all the worry you got. Good luck.” Then she left, just like that. I couldn't tell if she really, actually felt sorry for me or not.

  I tried to lift my left hand to feel the side of my head. See if I could tell why it hurt so much. But it didn't lift, and I was really sorry I tried, right away. That arm was all bruised up. I couldn't really use it for anything. I used my right instead. I had a little bandage on the left side of my head, and I couldn't tell for sure but I think it had stitches under it. The rest of that side of my face felt too big, and it hurt to touch it.

  There was a button on the bed with me, with a cord, and it said it was for calling the nurse. I pressed it so she would come back. And then I waited. But I didn't get her. I got a skinny white nurse with a tight face who didn't look nearly as nice.

  “Yes, darling?” she said, but she didn't sound like she thought I was all that darling.

  “I need to see my brother, Bill,” I said. “It's really important.” I couldn't tell her how much or why. I couldn't even tell myself yet. If Bill was hurt bad and it was all my fault …

  “That's out of the question, dear. You're to stay in bed and be still, and so is he.”

  “Could you go see him for me and tell me for sure he's okay?”

  She sighed. “Honey, I've got a lot of patients to look after. He's in stable condition. If his condition changes, I promise I'll let you know.”


  Then she bustled out before I could argue. I lay awake for a long time and thought about the day before I left home. I remembered how I wanted to get away real fast, because I was in trouble. I was ready to do anything not to have to face all that.

  But now I couldn't even think how much trouble I was in. I couldn't even get my brain to stretch that far. I would have done anything to be back at home, showing my mom that note from the principal, listening to her yell at me for stealing her gin. That wasn't even hardly trouble. I'd've killed for that kind of trouble now.

  A little later on the nice nurse stuck her head back through my door. “Seen those highway patrol guys yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  She made a sound, the kind of sound you make when you just scraped out of a bad situation. Kind of a big long “phew” sound. Only I wasn't out of this one yet. Not by a long shot.

  “Will you do something for me?” I asked. “It's really important.” As soon as I said how important it was, I started to cry.

  That's when I could tell, by her face, that she really did feel bad for me.

  “Could you go check on my brother Bill and tell me for a fact that he's okay?”

  She sighed, just like the other nurse. “I guess,” she said. “I guess, when I get a second.”

  I waited for what felt like hours, and I never really got to crying all the way—the kind of crying that washes it out of you and makes you feel better—but I couldn't exactly stop, either.

  Then she stuck her head back in. “He's doing okay,” she said. “His poor little ribs are all taped up. But he's awake and all. He's saying something. I can't tell what it is, though.”

  “Thynnie,” I said.

  She tilted her head and looked at me funny. “Yeah. How'd you know that?”

  “It's the only word Bill knows how to say.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “It means me.”

  After she left I thought about how bad I wanted something to drink. I had those needles in my stomach, and this feeling like I was walking into a dark room that had a monster in it but I didn't know where he was. I knew I couldn't stand to feel this way for long. But I couldn't figure out how to get to anything, or how to get anything to me. What a time to get stuck with just myself.

  That night, while I was sleeping, I felt a hand touching my arm. My good arm. I thought it was the nurse. I didn't understand why she had to wake me up. Every time I woke up I just felt hurt and scared. I just wanted to stay asleep. But then the hand was shaking me.

  I opened my eyes. At first it was too dark to see much. But then my eyes got used to the dark and I saw it was Snake.

  “Snake,” I said. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But I'm leaving.”

  “What do you mean, leaving? Where are you going? Did you get hurt bad?”

  “Not so bad,” he said. “It was a lot worse on your side of the car.”

  “Do me a favor?” I said. “Can you go by Bill's room and tell him I never meant for him to get hurt?”

  He didn't say anything for a long time. I didn't think it was such a big deal, what I asked. Especially since he wasn't hurt that bad.

  “Did you hear what I said, Cynnie? I'm leaving. This is it. The end of the line. The last we see each other.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I don't know. But I'm not going home. They called my dad to come get me. So I have to get away before he gets here. Because I'm not going back with my dad.”

  “But … what'll you do?”

  “I don't know. Something. I'll think of something.”

  I guess it was a weird question, asking him what he was going to do. Because we'd already run away. What were the two of us going to do when we took off from home? Why should this be any harder? I guess it had dawned on me more, since all this happened, how much bad stuff can happen out there in the world. I guess it didn't seem like such a small thing anymore, taking off with no money and no plan, not even knowing what you're going to do to be okay.

  “So will you tell Bill that for me before you go?”

  He made a sound that was almost like laughing. But it wasn't a happy laugh. I could tell nothing was funny for real. “Nice to know you're gonna miss me so much,” he said. He got up and walked halfway to the door. Then he stopped, but he didn't even turn around to look at me. He just talked like he was talking to the door. “I really liked you,” he said.

  I said the only thing I could think to say. “Why?” I said it like it was a great big mystery. It was. I really couldn't imagine.

  “I guess I thought we sort of … you know … understood each other. Or something. Like not everybody knows what it's like to be us. But we know.”

  Nobody said anything for a long time. I wondered if I was supposed to say something. Maybe I was supposed to say I liked him, too.

  “Did you ever even like me?” he asked.

  I didn't know what to say. I remembered Kiki telling me that guys only like us because there's something we can do for them. I was counting on her to be right. I was counting on it not really mattering much if I felt anything for Snake or not.

  I figured he wouldn't care about that. But maybe Kiki was wrong.

  I guess I wasn't answering fast enough.

  “Right,” he said. “Got it.”

  He walked out, and the door came swishing back with a big sound of air. It was like somebody had shut the door on my life. It was like there was no more sky, and all the air you used to be able to breathe got sucked away.

  It was like I didn't have one single thing left.

  In the morning the highway patrol guys came into my room. One of them had a clipboard. They both had guns and very neat uniforms, and I could see to look at them why the nurse made that “phew” sound. They were two scary guys.

  The first thing they asked me is whose idea was it for me to be driving the car.

  “Mine,” I said.

  “The boy didn't talk you into it?”

  “No.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive. I had to talk him into letting me drive.”

  We went around and around about this for a long time. I got the feeling they wanted it to be mostly Snake's fault. Maybe because he was a boy, or because he was older. Maybe it was just because he was gone.

  I thought about it, too, for a second. He's gone, anyway, and they can't do anything to him. I could try to put it off on him. But I couldn't. I just couldn't. Snake had never done anything bad to me. Not one thing I could think of, and I really tried. I wanted to think of one time he stabbed me in the back, so I could blame all this on him. But there was nothing.

  “No,” I said. “I drove because I wanted to.”

  I wasn't even still trying to save myself. I just sort of held my nose and sank all the way down into trouble.

  The day I left the hospital I had to sit up in a wheelchair so the nurse could wheel me down to the lobby. It was the middle of the morning, and I knew my mom was around here somewhere or they wouldn't be checking me out. But I hadn't actually seen her. It was like this big black cloud of doom sitting on my head. It was like knowing you were going to die in about three minutes. It seemed weird that she hadn't even tried to come sooner. Just when she absolutely had to, to give me a ride. It sort of sucked, but then I was relieved to put off seeing her. So I didn't know how to feel about that.

  Getting into the wheelchair wasn't easy. I had a big, heavy cast on my leg, and the nurse had to help me hold it, and it really hurt to move. My left arm still couldn't do much, so it was hard to lower myself into the chair without bumping around a lot. All through this awful stuff, I was wanting to ask her something, but I was afraid what she would say.

  Just as she was wheeling me into the hallway, I spit it out. “Can we go by Bill's room, real quick? Just so I can see him?”

  “Honey, he's gone.”

  My stomach got all cold. I felt like somebody had hit me in the gut with a piece of lumber. My brain wa
s tingling. “What do you mean, gone?”

  “Your grandma and grampa came and picked him up.” I breathed again for the first time in what felt like a long time. I couldn't even say out loud what I'd been thinking for a second there. I thought she meant he was gone, like … I couldn't even bring myself to think it. All the way down, my legs and my stomach were all shivery from what I thought for just that second.

  She wheeled me right through the lobby and out the door, like she expected my mom to come driving up any second. But I still hadn't seen her. It was cloudy outside, but kind of heavy wet and warm. The clouds were dark, and I looked up at them, and they looked like I felt.

  “They never even came in and talked to me.”

  “Who?”

  “Nanny and Grampop.”

  “Oh.”

  I knew why, too. I didn't even have to ask. They were so mad at me, they didn't even want to see me. They couldn't even look at me. It was that bad. And I never even got to tell Bill I was sorry. For the second time, he was gone, and I didn't even get to say goodbye.

  “Why does life get so awful sometimes?” I asked her.

  She thought that over a minute, like she had to be sure. “Sometimes, I don't know,” she said. “Sometimes it seems like it just is. No matter what you do. But other times it's because you're doing what you shouldn't be doing and not doing what you should.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  Then I was sorry I even asked.

  I shouldn't have worried about that moment when my mom came to get me. Because she didn't. Kiki did. First I thought that was a good break. But I was wrong. About an hour into the drive she dropped a major artillery shell.

  “Don't take this personally or anything,” she said. “But I'm out.”

  I didn't know out of what. And I didn't want to ask, because it sounded serious.

  “You know I don't do the whole Mom thing, Cynnie. You know that.” She waited, like I might have something to say. Wrong. “You have no idea how I caught hell over this. She figures it's partly my fault, because you come over to talk. And sometimes I give you advice, yeah. But I didn't tell you to do this fool thing.”