The Deepest Breath

by Meg Grehan

  Her eyes get darker

  And her smile changes

  I don’t want her to worry

  I don’t

  “Why do you think you feel that way?

  Like you need to know

  Everything?”

  Mum asks

  Like she really wants to know

  Like she really wants to

  Understand

  So I tell her

  I tell her how I feel like

  Knowing things

  Makes me safe

  Makes me powerful

  Makes me

  In control

  How I think of bad things

  Sometimes

  Things that might happen

  Things that could happen

  They pop into my head

  With no warning

  With no

  Permission

  And they play like movies

  Like horrible movies

  Horror movies

  Movies she would never let me see

  If she could stop it

  But she can’t

  And I can’t

  I tell her

  How I need to know

  Just in case

  Bad things happen

  Small bad things

  Or big bad things

  Or in-between bad things

  Because what if a Bad Thing happens

  And I don’t know the thing

  The One Thing

  That could stop it

  And I don’t know that thing

  What then

  Mum takes a bite of pasta

  And makes a “Hmm” sound

  And she looks

  Thoughtful

  This is one of the things

  I love love love about my mum

  She thinks about every answer

  She thinks hard

  And when she gives me answers

  I always know

  They’re real and true answers

  So I eat my dinner

  And I wait

  “OK”

  Mum says

  And she tells me

  That no one knows everything

  And that that’s OK

  And I nod along

  She tells me

  That bad things might happen

  But that bad things

  Might not happen

  Too

  She tells me that when a Bad Thing

  Pops into my head

  I should tell her

  So she can help me figure it out

  And that if I can’t tell her right away

  That I should

  Write it down

  On a piece of paper

  And I should fold the paper up

  And leave the Bad Thing there

  In the ink

  On the paper

  Until we can deal with it

  Together

  Then

  She says

  “Why not make a list

  A list of the things

  You most want to know

  And start with those”

  And

  I say

  “That’s a great idea”

  So we do it

  We eat spaghetti then we bundle ourselves up

  And we go for a walk

  And we puff out our breath like dragons

  And we look for constellations

  And we make a list

  The Things I Want to Know About the Most:

  The ocean and all the things that live there and why it’s so scary

  The stars and all the constellations

  How phones work

  What happened to Princess Anastasia

  Knots

  When we’ve come home from our walk

  And Mum’s washed the dishes

  And I’ve finished my homework

  Mum tucks me in

  And kisses me on the head

  And turns on my reading light

  And goes

  But instead of reading

  I get my list

  My Things I Want to Know About list

  And add

  One more thing

  One extra-important thing

  The thing I most need to know

  6. What is the fizzy feeling in my chest

  five

  I have a dream about my dad

  Which isn’t weird

  Because it happens

  Every few months

  Like my brain just needs to

  Check in

  Every now

  And then

  I dream that he’s sitting in our garden

  On the grass

  And there’s frost on his fingers

  And his eyelashes

  And his shoelaces

  But he doesn’t look

  Cold

  He doesn’t

  Shiver

  Or shake

  He just sits

  Looking

  Up up up

  At the sky

  And when I open my mouth

  To say hi

  He puts a sparkling finger to his lips

  So I look up too

  And I see

  The stars

  And they’re close

  They’re closer than ever

  Big and white and shining bright bright bright

  And I can hear them

  Talking to each other

  Tiny voices

  Like they haven’t noticed us

  Like they’re much too

  Busy

  Much too

  Important

  For us tiny little things

  With our funny little bodies

  Our cold noses

  Our goosebumps

  Our breath erupting

  Like tiny clouds

  Proving we’re here and alive and real

  And that thought

  Is so strangely

  Comforting

  That I sit down

  Beside my dad

  On the cold grass

  And we just

  Watch

  And listen

  And the stars

  Float down

  So slowly

  We hardly even notice

  Until they’re around us

  And we can’t even tell

  If they’re on the ground

  Or we’re in the sky

  And either way

  Is fine by us

  When I wake up

  I write it all down

  The stars and the frost and the magic of it all

  I write it all

  Fast as I can

  In case it escapes my head

  So fast that I spell words wrong

  And my handwriting is scratchy and messy

  And it doesn’t matter

  Because all that matters

  Is not forgetting

  We used to go for walks

  Dad and me

  Always late at night

  Only on nights

  With stars

  He’d wake me up

  With a little

  Shake

  And a happy

  “They’re bright tonight!”

  Then he’d wrap me in wool

  Until I waddled

  Coat, scarf, hat, mittens

  Check, check, check, check

  We’d take his big flashlight

  I’d hold it

  With both hands

  Until my arms ached

  And I’d wait

  For fear to twist in my belly

  For shadows to move

  And trees to creak

  For a beast to appear in the flashlight

  But we’d just walk

  All alone in the quiet

  And he’d point out

  Constellations

  He’d tell me their names

  And what they meant

  And I always wondered

  How he knew

  Becau
se he didn’t read books

  Or talk about

  Smart stuff

  But asking

  Felt mean

  And I

  Felt mean

  For thinking it

  But he didn’t know

  He just pointed at stars

  And on those nights

  He was the smartest

  And when the flashlight

  Became too heavy

  He’d take it

  And my hand

  In his big scratchy hands

  And we’d go home

  I miss him sometimes

  And I used to feel guilty

  For not missing him

  All the time

  But now I think that’s OK

  Because I have all I need here

  And hopefully he has all he needs there

  At breakfast I write the dream out

  Neat and proper

  On a nice fresh sheet of paper

  And Mum finds me an envelope

  (A pink one that’s really for a birthday card but Dad won’t mind)

  And we write his address on the front

  And I lick the stamp

  And then we walk to the post box

  And she tells me about her dreams

  six

  Mum gets me a book

  She gives it to me the next day after school

  And says it’s an early Christmas present

  Because I’m so good

  Which makes me blush

  And she says she hopes it will help me

  Tick one thing off the list

  Which makes me excited

  It’s a massive book

  Gigantic and heavy and full of big words and colorful photos

  The Ocean and Its Inhabitants

  I flick through

  And fear makes my spine feel wobbly

  Like I might crumple

  But I want to know

  I want to understand

  Everything there is to know

  Everything there is to understand

  So I flick to page one

  And I open my notebook

  And I start reading

  First

  I read about the

  Cookie-cutter shark

  A small shark

  That eats by cutting circles out of fish bellies

  With its sharp little teeth

  Every single day

  They swim up

  Up up up

  To the top

  So they break the surface

  At dusk

  And at dawn

  They turn

  And they go back

  Down down down

  Into the sea

  Only to turn back around

  Again

  I don’t know why they do that

  Not yet

  But I think

  That’s kind of how I feel

  About learning things

  Like I read and read and I get to the top of the pile

  But by the time the sun comes back up

  There’s so much more to know

  And I need to start again

  And I’m anxious again

  At school the next day

  I’m tired

  I’m tired through and through

  Because dreams keep coming

  Sometimes dreams

  Sometimes nightmares

  Sometimes something in the middle

  Always vivid and long and way

  Way too

  Real

  Even the good ones

  Feel too big for my brain

  I wake sleepy

  As if my body slept

  But my brain

  Worked and worked

  All night

  And in the morning

  It has nothing left over

  In the morning we have a spelling test

  Then we do math

  And then it’s lunchtime

  I don’t like lunchtime

  Especially in winter

  It’s cold and loud and boring

  I sit on the best bench

  Beside the best tree

  And I read

  A book about a boy

  With an alien for a brother

  And a best friend named

  Sarah

  I think the boy has a crush on Sarah

  Because he blushes when he talks to her sometimes

  And he wants to hold her hand

  But I’m not sure

  Because I don’t blush when I talk to Andrew

  And I definitely don’t want to hold his hand

  So maybe

  I really don’t know what a crush is

  Sometimes Mum says I’m going to marry Andrew

  Because I’ve known him since we were babies

  And we’ve always been best friends

  But she always says it

  With a smile

  And a little laugh

  So I’m not really sure

  If it’s a truth or a joke

  If it is a truth

  I don’t feel very happy about it

  And if it is a joke

  I don’t think it’s a very good one

  But I don’t want to hurt

  Mum’s feelings

  So I laugh

  A small not-real laugh

  It’s not a lie

  It’s just a little empty

  Is all

  I don’t want to marry Andrew

  That’s one of the things I know

  Andrew is nice

  And we still get along

  Pretty well

  Even though he likes football a lot now

  And I don’t

  He’s still nice to me

  And I’m still nice to him

  I like when he comes over

  And when we watch movies

  And bake

  I know that I think he’s interesting

  And that I’m glad I know him

  But I know

  For sure

  I don’t want to marry him

  And I wish

  My mum wouldn’t say it

  Because it makes me worry

  That maybe

  She means it

  That maybe

  That’s what she sees when she pictures me grown-up

  And I don’t think

  That’s what my grown-up self

  Will be

  When I’m just about to finish page 164

  Something happens

  Something bad

  I know it’s bad because it’s loud and fast

  And everyone gasps

  And then there’s a split second

  Of silence

  And then a wail

  I look up and

  Chloe

  Is on the ground

  And she’s clutching her knee

  And I see red

  Sneaking through her gray tights

  And I hear someone yell

  “Find Ms. Matthews!”

  And before I know it

  I’m up

  I’m off the bench

  And I’m running

  Running running

  All the way over

  To Chloe

  Which is funny

  Because I don’t remember telling my legs to move

  But they do it anyway

  And I don’t tell them to stop

  Chloe is crying so hard

  Her face is all red

  And she has snot dripping down to her lips

  And she looks

  So sad

  It makes my heart hurt

  In a sudden

  Spiky way

  So I take her hand

  And my lips start to say

  “It’s OK, Chloe!”

  Over and over

  And I pull her up off the ground

  And I say I’ll take her to the nurse

  And she holds my hand

  Really really hard


  But that’s OK

  And we hobble inside

  Her limping

  And me pretending my hand isn’t being crushed

  When we get to the nurse

  Chloe is still crying

  But a little less

  Which is a relief

  Because then my hand

  And my heart

  Hurt a little less

  But then something strange happens

  And I don’t know what it means

  Chloe

  Lets go of my hand

  And suddenly

  I feel

  Sad

  Sad in the pit of my tummy

  Sad to the tips of my fingers

  And I think

  I want her to keep holding my hand

  And I wonder

  Why

  Chloe hugs me then

  A bear hug

  Big and welcoming and warm

  She wraps me up

  Somehow

  Even though we’re the same size

  She wraps me up and squeezes tight

  And whispers

  “Thanks, Stevie”

  And then my hand doesn’t hurt anymore

  Not at all

  The nurse cleans Chloe’s knee

  And slathers on a cream

  That even smells sting-y

  And Chloe cries a bit

  And squeezes my hand again

  Then the nurse puts a bright orange bandage over the cut

  And tells Chloe she was very brave

  And me that I was very kind

  Afterwards

  Back in the hallway on the way to class

  Chloe says

  “Thank you”

  In a quiet

  Extra-nice way

  And I say

  “No problem”

  And I make sure

  Not to look up

  To keep staring down at the ground

  Counting tiles

  Just in case

  She sees my bright pink cheeks

  At home that night

  I tell Mum all about it

  Even about how

  My heart felt light and heavy

  And real and not real

  And fast and slow

  All at the same time

  And she says

  Maybe

  I should be a doctor when I grow up