Up High in the Trees

by Kiara Brinkman

  I sit back on my chair, away from the table, and I watch Dad eat. The cat comes into the kitchen to see what we’re doing.

  Hello, I say to the cat and he rubs back and forth against my leg.

  Can I give him some turkey? I ask.

  Dad shrugs.

  If you eat some first, he says.

  I pick up a sandwich and look at it for a long time. Then I take a fast bite and swallow without chewing too much.

  Good, Dad says, two more bites.

  So I take two more. Then I drop a piece of turkey on the floor for the cat.

  Can we name him? I ask.

  I call him Cham, Dad says, short for Champagne.

  I think Cham is a good name.

  Is he going to stay with us? I ask.

  Dad finishes chewing. He brushes off his hands on his pants.

  I think so, says Dad.

  Your friend, the boy, came this morning, Dad says.

  Okay, I say.

  I don’t know if I want to see Jackson, but I want to tell him about the cat, Cham.

  You slept for a long time, says Dad. He stands up to put the rest of the sandwiches back in the refrigerator.

  I need to write a letter, I tell him.

  Dad’s standing with his head resting back against the refrigerator door. You’re becoming rather prolific, he says.

  I nod.

  Dear Ms. Lambert,

  Before I turned into me, I was a girl like Mother and I know all the things that she did.

  Mother put crumbs of bread around the car and on top of the car, too. She slept in the backseat and it was cold, so she held on to the loaf of bread. The loaf was small because she used a lot of it for the animals. Mother hugged the loaf close and she was warmer. When she woke up in the morning, all the crumbs of bread around the car and on top of the car were gone. The animals came in the middle of the night and I know how she felt. She felt like she missed something. I was feeling how she felt and it was a sad feeling.

  Here is my hand. I can trace it really well now.

  Bye, Sebby

  I want to ride the yellow bike. I don’t care about before. I’ve been thinking about riding and I know how to do it now.

  I find the bike in the grass, in the place where I fell. I pick it up and I have to get on fast or it won’t work and I’ll tip over. I’m standing next to the bike and I do it. I get on and pedal as fast as I can. Then I have to turn or I’ll crash into the house. It’s hard to turn because it feels like tipping over, but I have to, so I make the bike turn and after, I stop slow and put my feet down.

  I try again and I’m going. I know how to do it now.

  Then I see Jackson and I fall. He’s standing by the back door. He waves at me, but I don’t wave back.

  I’m okay. There’s no blood in my mouth. I get up fast because I don’t want the grass smell to stick on me.

  What’re you doing? I ask. I leave the yellow bike and walk over to him.

  I got in trouble because of Halloween, he tells me. I can’t have any of my candy for two weeks.

  How did you get back here? I ask. I know he had to walk through the whole house to come out the back door.

  The front wasn’t locked, he says.

  Dad forgets to lock the door sometimes, so I have to remember.

  I have a cat, you know, I tell him.

  Jackson’s looking down at his red boots. He squats and rubs away a scuff mark with two fingers.

  Let me see it, Jackson says.

  I take him inside the house and we go to the kitchen but the cat’s not under the table, so I go upstairs to ask Dad and Jackson follows.

  Dad’s lying on his back on the floor with his arms folded under his head. The cat’s sleeping on Dad’s stomach. I know the song playing. Dad has it turned down low because he’s listening to the Beach Boys. I go sit by him and pet the cat. I look at Jackson to see how he watches me. He watches with his arms crossed, wrapped tight around him like a hug. I listen to the song. It’s about the sun staying in your body and keeping you warm at night.

  When the song’s over, Dad looks at me and then at Jackson.

  What’re you boys up to? Dad asks.

  Nothing, says Jackson.

  I keep petting the cat. He’s stretched out long on Dad’s stomach.

  You can pet him too, I say to Jackson.

  Jackson shakes his head no. I have stick bugs, he says.

  Oh, I say.

  Jackson unwraps his arms. With one hand, he pulls on his bottom lip. He keeps pulling it out and then letting it go.

  Do you want to see them? he asks.

  Yes, I say.

  Then Jackson runs back downstairs. Come on! he yells at me.

  I gotta go, I tell Dad.

  All right, Dad says.

  Bye, I say and run down after Jackson.

  He’s outside already, waiting for me on the sidewalk. He starts walking when I get close, so I have to run again to catch up with him.

  I keep them in a jar, Jackson says, they like to eat blackberry leaves. They’re Shelly’s too, he says, but mostly mine.

  We don’t talk for the rest of the way. I’ve never been inside of his house before and I wonder what it looks like. In my head, the inside is all blue like the outside, but I know it won’t be like that really.

  Jackson starts running then and I don’t want to run, but I do anyway. He runs right into his house, so I do too, and we go all the way up the stairs to a big room that’s got toys all over the floor.

  I sit down next to Jackson and we look at the stick bugs in their jar. They’re hard to find.

  See, Jackson says, and he grabs a spray bottle. This is how you give them water.

  He sprays two sprays in their jar.

  They drink up the drops, he says, but you have to be careful when you spray, because if you squirt the water right on them, they’ll get sick and then they’ll die. Jackson licks his lips and he looks at me.

  You can’t spray, he says, because you don’t know how to do it right.

  I don’t care about spraying.

  The room where we are has brown wood on the floor and walls that are light yellow and over in the corner, there’s a pillow fort with the plastic mat from Twister for a roof.

  Is this your room? I ask Jackson and he looks around like he’s looking for something.

  There’s no bed in here, stupid, he says, it’s the playroom.

  Shelly comes in then pushing a small baby stroller that has three Barbie dolls sitting in the baby seat. She stares at me but doesn’t say anything and then she pushes her Barbie dolls over to the fort.

  Shelly already killed one of the stick bugs, says Jackson.

  You are a liar, Jackson Josiah, she says and runs out of the playroom, pushing her stroller with her. The wheels are loud on the wood floor.

  It died on its back on the bottom of the jar, Jackson tells me. We had five and now we only have four.

  I don’t think it was Shelly who made the stick bug die. I can hear her pushing the stroller back to the playroom. She comes in with their mom.

  The baby’s sleeping, their mom says, and I’m going to be very upset if you wake him up. Their mom has red hair that’s darker than Shelly’s and I look at her feet because she doesn’t have any shoes or socks on and her toenails are painted pink.

  I didn’t do anything, Jackson says. He’s not looking at his mom or Shelly. He’s looking at the stick bugs.

  Hello, their mom says to me and I put up my hand to wave. She picks up one foot and leans against the wall. The pink on her toenails is pale, like the inside of seashells.

  Shelly pushes her stroller over to where Jackson and I are.

  You’re a liar and an idiot, too, she says to Jackson.

  He still doesn’t look at her and doesn’t say anything.

  Shelly, please, their mom says. She stands there and watches us for a little bit. Then she goes away.

  What’s your mother’s name? I ask.

  Alison, says Jackson.
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  Shelly pushes her stroller so that it runs into Jackson’s back.

  Dad’s name is Rockney and the baby’s name is Baby Chester, Shelly says.

  Shut up, says Jackson. He turns around and shoves her stroller backward.

  Hey, Shelly says, but she goes away then. She pushes her stroller over to the corner with the fort.

  That’s my fort, says Jackson.

  Shelly doesn’t say anything. She takes her three Barbie dolls out of the stroller and goes into the fort with them.

  Are you a Democrat or a Republican? Jackson asks me. His face is serious.

  I don’t know, I tell him.

  Do you like Bill Clinton or not? Jackson asks.

  I know that Cass’s bumper stickers have the words CLINTON GORE.

  I do like him, I say.

  Then you’re a Democrat like me, Jackson says.

  I’m a Democrat, too! Shelly yells from the fort.

  At the end of the pier, Mother dropped her favorite thing. It was an owl that she carved out of pink soap. She dropped the pink owl in the water to see if she would jump in to save it and she did.

  The owl was different afterward because it was soap, so the water made it smaller.

  First, I have to find my favorite thing.

  EVIDENCE

  In the closet, I find the box that says LOUISE AND ALEXANDER. I want to see a picture of Mother. I want to see her face. Most of the pictures are all the way down at the bottom of the box and there aren’t people in them, just things, like a beach or some trees or food on a table. I keep looking. I open a yellow brown envelope and inside is a picture of Mother. She’s holding a baby and laughing. You can see her face, but you can’t see her eyes because they’re closed. I slip it back into the envelope and then put that in my candy bag from Halloween.

  I pick out two more things from the box. I choose a tiny umbrella—the kind they put in drinks at fancy restaurants. It’s green and can open and close, but I only open and close it once, because I know it’s old and maybe will break. The biggest thing in the box is a record. It doesn’t have a case like all of Dad’s records do. The record is black and yellow in the middle part and says, Steve Martin—Let’s Get Small. I don’t know who Steve Martin is. Maybe I will ask Dad.

  I put the record in my candy bag and the tiny umbrella, too. Then I fold over the top of the bag so it’s closed and slide it under my bed.

  When I go back downstairs, the front door is open and Dad’s outside on the porch steps. I go sit next to him.

  Dad, I say, it’s cold.

  I’m working on my breathing, Dad says. The cold air helps. He takes a deep breath and then blows out all of his air until he coughs.

  I put my hand on his back. You’re okay? I ask.

  I’m fine, says Dad.

  I see then that he’s not wearing any socks. His feet are long and skinny and the cold is making them purple blue. I touch his foot.

  Dad says, I can’t feel it—they’re numb. He picks up one of his feet and shows me how the bottom is cut up and bloody.

  I can’t feel it, Dad says again.

  What happened? I ask him.

  I went for a walk, he says, I just wanted to walk.

  Come inside? I ask.

  He doesn’t say anything.

  Please, Dad, I say, and my voice sounds like I’m going to start crying, so Dad says okay.

  We go in and I lock the door behind us. Then we just stand there together at the bottom of the stairs.

  Dad says, Go get me a pair of socks.

  I run upstairs and bring them back to him. Dad’s sitting on the floor by the fireplace. He puts the white socks on his dirty, bloody feet.

  We sit by the fire for a long, long time, not talking.

  I want to say something, so I ask Dad, Who’s Steve Martin?

  Dad says, He’s a comedian. You’ve seen him in movies. He’s the guy from Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.

  I found his record in Mom’s box, I tell Dad.

  Your Uncle Alex thought he was funny, Dad says. I can play it for you later.

  Okay, I say. I want to know if Dad can feel his feet now and if they’re hurting. I stare at his socks.

  The cat is mute, Dad says. He doesn’t meow or make any noises or anything.

  But, I think he meowed at me once, I say, in the nighttime.

  Really? asks Dad.

  I nod.

  You have to stay inside, I tell him. I keep looking at his feet.

  Then I take off my glasses so everything turns blurry and the room looks softer.

  Jackson tells me he will give me five dollars if I run all the way to the end of the pier that says DANGER NOT SAFE. I have a fat, black marker in my pocket. Jackson gave it to me so I can write something when I get to the end of the pier. The writing is for proof that I was there.

  He’s saying doll hairs, Shelly says. Listen to him.

  I’m saying five dollars, says Jackson and he takes the five-dollar bill out of his pocket and holds it in front of us.

  Where’d you get that? Shelly asks him.

  Shelly’s face looks different. I keep looking at her.

  What? Shelly asks me.

  He’s looking at your funny face, says Jackson. He wipes his nose on his sleeve. She shaved off all her eyebrows with Mom’s razor, Jackson says. She’s a freak.

  Shelly looks at me with her big moon face.

  I like you, she says.

  She’s looking at me. I know I’m supposed to say something.

  Thank you, I tell her.

  Jackson pushes Shelly back, away from me.

  I’ll count to ten, says Jackson, and then you go. Ready? he asks.

  Count to twenty, I tell him.

  Okay, Jackson says and starts counting. His voice sounds far away.

  I’m looking all the way down to the end of the pier.

  Jackson says, GO, so I go.

  It’s easy to run. It’s like it’s not me running. I can’t hear my feet on the old, soft wood. At the end of the pier, I take the marker out of my pocket and write I WAS HERE. I look at my writing and I like how it looks. Then I run back. I’m running as fast as I can and in my head is just quiet. When I get to Jackson and Shelly, I fall down and lie there breathing.

  The quiet in my head goes away and then I can hear Shelly.

  You did it, she’s saying.

  Jackson sits down next to me and gives me the five dollars.

  Here, take it, he says, what did you write?

  I can hear my heart beating in my ears.

  I tell him that I wrote, I WAS HERE.

  Jackson’s laughing at me, but I don’t care. He keeps laughing and Shelly tells him to stop it right now.

  You idiot, Jackson says to me, nobody knows who I is.

  You stole that five dollars from Mom and I know it, says Shelly.

  You don’t know anything, Jackson tells her.

  Shelly looks at me. Her face wants me to believe her and I do. I don’t want the five dollars anymore. I sit up now and hand the money back to Jackson, but he won’t take it. I try to drop it on his lap, but he jumps up fast and the five dollars lands on the grass. Jackson runs away.

  Come on, Shelly says to me and she starts running, too. I don’t want to sit there next to the five-dollar bill, so I run.

  Jackson runs past his blue house and we follow him.

  Slow down, Shelly yells, but Jackson won’t slow down.

  I run past her so I’m right behind Jackson now. We’re running far, far away from the five-dollar bill. Jackson is running the way you go to get to the post office. I know this way.

  You guys, Shelly yells from behind us, but we won’t stop.

  It’s easy to run now. We go all the way to the park.

  Jackson climbs up the clown-head jungle gym and sits at the very top. I climb, too. You can tell the jungle gym used to be painted blue, but now a lot of the paint is chipped off and it’s just metal color.

  There are two kids on the swings. They don’t say
anything to us. I watch them. They’re pumping hard with their feet and swinging high. The swing chains make a moaning sound, like they might break.

  Shelly’s coming now. She’s walking, not running.

  I knew you’d run here! Shelly yells at Jackson.

  He doesn’t say anything.

  The kids on the swings are a boy and a girl and they have white blond hair. The girl sticks out her tongue at us and I don’t like how she stares. My stomach feels tight inside and I have to pee, but there’s nowhere to go!

  Shelly climbs up the jungle gym and tells Jackson to move. She pulls on his leg because she wants a turn to sit on the top, but Jackson shakes his head no.

  Slowly, very slowly, Jackson pulls his feet up so that he’s squatting on the clown’s hat, and then with his arms straight out, he stands. The boy and girl on the swings are pumping and looking at Jackson.

  Shelly pinches me on the back of my arm. I turn around and look at her.

  Don’t, I tell her.

  Hey, says the girl on the swing. She kicks off one of her shoes and it flies at Jackson but doesn’t hit him. Then the boy on the swings yells at us.

  Get the HELL out of here! he screams. He has almost the same face as the girl. He kicks off one of his shoes and it flies way up high over our heads.

  Let’s go, Shelly whispers to me.

  I want to run, but I hold on tight to the jungle gym.

  Come on, Shelly whispers.

  Shhhh, I tell her. I look up at Jackson.

  He’s staring at the boy and girl on the swings.

  Screw you guys, Jackson says. He doesn’t say it very loud.

  Then he jumps up and twists around in a whole circle so he lands facing the same way. Shelly claps for him.

  Good, Jackson, good, she says.

  I know something bad is going to happen now. The girl on the swings kicks off her other shoe and it misses Jackson again.

  Damn it, says Jackson. He squats low on the clown’s hat.

  Then I see the blood. His nose is bleeding down his face and dripping onto his shirt.

  Jump down and run, Jackson says in a low voice. Try to get their shoes, he says to me. Shelly, just run, he says. Okay, ready, GO! Jackson tells us and we go.