by Betty Culley
and a pike pole
to push the logs apart
when they jammed together.
As you can guess,
it was dangerous work,
riding a log down
the river.
He watched a friend
slip
between two logs
and drown.
All those years
on the river,
and my grandfather
never knew how to swim.
Even so,
I wish there were still
jobs like that.
Working in the woods
all winter,
standing on water
in the spring.
The log drives
were stopped
because the river
turned brown with tannin
from the bark of the logs,
and the trout died.
Dad said
there are still logs
on the bottom
of the river,
ones that sank
all those years ago.
It’s true with logs too.
Some move down the river
where they need to go,
and some sink down,
caught forever
in the mud.
In the Belly of the Whale
I hear Elinor and Mom
in the kitchen.
I stop on the stairs
to listen.
Mom speaks.
I wish I knew
if he is still
in there.
Liv is so
sure.
I don’t know how
she does it.
That is more words
than I’ve heard
Mom say
about Jonah
in five months.
There is silence,
then Elinor speaks.
When Jonah was in the belly of the whale,
who but God could know
what he was thinking,
what he was feeling?
Uh-oh, I think,
Elinor is talking about God
and the Bible.
Even I know there is a Jonah story
in the Bible,
not that Mom named Jonah
for a story.
She just liked the name.
When the Bible people
come to the door,
Mom doesn’t answer.
She says it’s more polite
that way—
not to open the door
rather than
slam it closed.
I make noise on the stairs
so they know I’m coming.
There is a casserole
on the table.
It looks like tuna noodle,
but it’s not in a soup kitchen dish.
I’m happy to see it.
It’s been a long time
since Mom and I
ate something hot.
We eat a lot of cereal and milk
and sandwiches.
The kitchen isn’t really our kitchen
anymore.
It’s where the nurses prepare
Jonah’s food,
where they draw up meds,
where they eat their meals.
The nurse schedule is taped
to the refrigerator.
In a kitchen drawer
is a Do Not Resuscitate
form, unsigned.
We share our kitchen
with Jonah’s fan club.
It makes things less lonely
and more lonely
at the same time.
Hi, Liv.
I see that Elinor
has an arm around
my mother,
and Mom isn’t
shaking it off.
Hi, Elinor,
thanks for the casserole.
It smells great.
Another soup kitchen lesson:
A hot meal
makes you realize
people care.
O
Facts about oxygen:
It is atomic number 8
on the periodic table
of elements.
Its nickname is the letter O.
It was formed
in the heart of stars.
This time Team Meeting
is all about O—
Does Jonah need O?
Would O make Jonah
more comfortable?
This time,
the nurses make sure
Mom is there.
We are not saying Jonah
is worse,
Dr. Kate tells Mom.
We just think it would be
prudent
to have O
on hand.
Mom agrees.
What can she say?
There is enough O
in the air for her,
for me,
for the nurses,
for everyone we know
except Jonah.
I never really thought
about the fact
that invisible O,
something we can’t see,
can’t hold in our hands,
is keeping us all alive.
River Rats
That’s what
people called
the log drivers like my
grandfather.
I look at the water
and wonder if rats can swim.
Before I start to ask Clay
Three things about rats,
he says,
Tell me three things
you know are true.
This is harder than you think.
I’ve learned
it’s hard to really know
another person.
You can’t know
the future.
Even the things you see
every day
change.
First Finger.
I know that hands
can speak.
Second Finger.
I know that Jonah
is in there.
Third Finger.
I know I’d rather be here
at the river
with you
than anywhere else.
Then I get up
and leave
before I’ve asked
what Gwen wants to know
because I’ve already said too much.
Rainie
The Kennebec Herald
is supposed to be
delivered to our house
every day.
Darn it,
Mom says,
someone took the newspaper
again.
Who bothers to go to the trouble
of taking
someone else’s paper?
I don’t say
I do.
Today there was another
letter to the editor
in the newspaper.
“People blame gun owners for
gun accidents. In my opinion,
that is faulty reasoning. Everyone is
sorry that Jonah Carrier was hurt,
but maybe if his parents had taught
him how to handle a gun and taught
him how to check if a gun was loaded,
in my opinion, this tragedy could have
been avoided.”
Today is another day
I stuff the newspaper
in my backpack,
and toss it out
at school.
Rainie is at our door
on Saturday morning.
She wants to go
shop(lift)ing.
Piper and Justine
won’t go again
after the last time.
Rainie doesn’t come in
farther than the
mudroom.
She’s not th
e only one.
Everyone says
they don’t want to
disturb us.
They look away when they
see Jonah’s nurses
or hear the sounds
Suck-It-Up makes.
When we say
Come in
they shake their heads
like we can’t really mean it.
Rainie wants to go to
the Thriftee Thrift Shop.
We walk down
past the river
into town.
The Thriftee Thrift Shop
(it used to be a pet shop
or a bottle redemption center,
I can’t remember which)
smells like wet laundry
that sat in the washing machine
too long.
The front window
is already decorated for spring
with baskets and plastic grass
and a Hula-Hoop—all for sale.
There’s a display
of jewelry
in the glass front case.
Rainie asks to see the
tray of earrings,
then the tray of rings,
then the tray of necklaces,
then the tray of rings again.
When I hear Rainie ask
for the tray of rings
again, and say,
I’ll take this one,
I know it’s coming—
Rainie’s own personal
Buy One
Get One Free
deal.
I look for something
for Jonah
for his birthday.
He has enough
blankets,
doesn’t really wear out
his clothes,
can’t use the baseball mitt
or the chin-up bar.
I see an old harmonica
on a shelf,
and pick it up.
Ugh,
Rainie says,
who knows what kind of germs
are in that thing.
She sounds like Piper,
who thinks the superbug
could be hiding anywhere.
No, I’m serious,
you really plan on
putting your mouth on that?
Despite what Rainie says,
I pay the two dollars
plus tax for the harmonica.
Let’s stop by the river,
I suggest,
and Rainie says okay.
She’s happy now
with her special deal.
She shows me the little ring
with the green stone
that fits on her pinky,
but I can tell she is thinking about the
get-one-free.
We lie facedown
on the dock
and splash our hands
in the water
like when we were little.
The trees on the edge of the bank
seem to hold on to the river
with just their bare roots.
Remember when we’d all
come down here—
you and me, and Jonah and Clay,
and play that game?
The Three Things game?
I remember,
I say.
I’m grateful
to Rainie
that she says his name—
Jonah.
That she never stopped
saying his name.
Rainie takes a necklace
out of her pocket.
It has a silver half-moon pendant.
She dips it in the water
lifts it out
dips it in
lifts it out
then lets it go.
I don’t know if
that’s a good thing
or not.
Locker
I thought my hands
had learned their lesson
at school,
but there is something
they just have to do.
Open my locker.
Slam it closed.
Open my locker.
Slam it closed.
Open my locker.
Slam it closed.
It is my locker.
School is over
and the hallway
is empty.
Open my locker.
Slam it closed.
Open my locker.
Slam it closed.
I can’t believe
I never figured
this out before—
how good it feels
to
Open my locker.
Slam it closed.
Something about
metal banging metal,
how it echoes
down the long hallway
of lockers,
makes me happy.
I am slamming
until I am
interrupted.
Mr. Fortunato reaches out
and holds my locker door
before I can slam it again.
Are you having a problem
shutting your locker, Liv?
If you are,
I don’t think
this is the best way
to handle it.
It’s okay now.
I fixed it.
See?
Mr. Fortunato lets go of the door
and I very, very gently close it
and walk away.
Lip
While we waited
in the bad-news lounge,
surgeons traced the path
of the bullet
through Jonah’s brain.
The bullet,
like the gun,
was evidence.
The surgeon said
there would be
“deficits.”
They didn’t know exactly
what the
“deficits”
would be.
Time would tell.
It was a miracle
he survived.
Speaking of miracles,
me, myself, Liv,
the sometimes good girl,
witnessed
one of Jonah’s miracles.
Johnny knows too,
because he was there
the night
Jonah said it.
I was joking with Jonah,
patting one side of his face
and then the other,
soft gentle pats,
my face close to his,
rubbing noses together.
Oh, Jonah,
I asked him,
are you getting enough attention?
Nose rub
Cheek pat
Do you want more attention?
Smoothing his hair back
Getting in his face
What’s that face?
You want me to go away?
Leave you alone?
You want a boys’ night
just you and Johnny?
No girls allowed?
Jonah took a deep breath.
He looked right back at me,
his mouth worked,
and he said
Li Li Lip
Johnny and I both froze.
If he hadn’t heard it.
If I hadn’t heard it.
If we hadn’t heard it together.
I turned to Johnny,
Don’t tell Dr. Kate
Jonah said my name.
She won’t believe you,
or she’ll try and make him
do it again.
We know we heard it.
He’ll say it again
when he wants to.
Don’t tell Mom, either.
Let Jonah be the one
to show her
someday.
Johnny promised.
We turned back to Jonah
and
he was asleep
with his mouth open.
It was just like Jonah
to stop the show
with the audience begging
for more.
It hasn’t happened again,
but that’s fine.
I think it’s greedy
to expect a miracle
twice.
Gun Safe
When the day is cloudy,
the river is dark.
You can’t see below
the surface.
When it’s windy,
the river has waves
that rush past
in a hurry,
thousands of little waves
in a race
to the ocean.
Today it’s cloudy and windy.
I take my hair
out of its ponytail
and let it fall in my face.
Your hair is even longer,
Clay says.
Yours, too.
Are you letting
it grow?
Clay touches his hair.
Did you know that hair
grows about half an inch
a month?
New hair pushes out
the old hair, like teeth.
You can use hair
to test for toxic chemicals
and heavy-metals exposure
as far back
as six months.
It doesn’t surprise me
that Clay
is performing an experiment
on himself.
Using his hair
to check the levels
of Bugz Away chemicals.
I didn’t ask you three things about hair.
And I remember you telling me
that Marie and Pierre Curie
experimented with radium
and died of radium poisoning.
Actually, Clay said,
Pierre Curie died when he fell
under a horse-drawn cart.
But yes, it did make them sick.
I do have a question for you, Clay.
Okay.
Sometimes there is no way
to find out what you need
without just asking.
Where is Gwen’s FIREARM?
Clay trails his hands in the river
like me and Rainie.
What is it about the river
that draws people to it?
Dad locked it
in the gun safe he got
from his brother.
Sometimes she sleepwalks
at night
when she takes her sleeping pills
and he was worried.
GUN SAFE?
That’s a thing?
Yes, a cabinet to
lock up guns,
keep them safe,
so to speak.
To show the judge
he’s being responsible.
Even though Dad’s lawyer said
he won’t bring it up
at the trial.
Dad was never going to
give them up.
He keeps the key
to the gun safe
on his key chain.
So their family
has a lawyer, too.
The Three Things game
got us in the habit
of being honest
with each other.
Right now,
I think I’d rather
have heard
a white lie
from Clay.
Not how his father
