The Sky Between You and Me

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The Sky Between You and Me Page 6

by Catherine Alene


  In front of me

  That needs to be filled

  Before more offers come

  I reach into my lunch sack and pull out

  The red pepper

  snow peas

  celery

  carrots

  “That better not be your whole lunch,” Asia says.

  Why?

  “Because that’s not a lunch.”

  “Unless you’re a rabbit,” Cody volunteers.

  Micah ducks under our words

  Across the table

  Makes a grab for his Oreos

  Sending Cody’s pop rolling across the table

  Spewing Coke into Asia’s lap

  “Micah!” Asia jumps up

  Saves her sandwich

  Just in time

  Cody and Micah throw their napkins at the puddle

  Growing into a lake

  I run and grab some more

  By the time I’m back

  Asia is in the restroom

  Cleaning up

  Cody and Micah are still wiping

  The table dry

  I finish cleaning up

  Slide the soppy napkins

  Onto an empty tray

  Someone has left behind

  I take it to the trash

  Along with my lunch

  Where I

  Toss

  It

  All

  Glancing up at the clock on the cafeteria wall

  As the warning bell bleats

  Seven minutes and counting

  Until I have my next class

  I wouldn’t have had time to eat

  My lunch

  Even

  If

  I

  Wanted

  Passing Period

  Life happens

  Between the school bells

  Fourth block is gone

  Three

  Two

  One

  Minute to go and fifth block

  Will be here

  I stand outside the doorway

  To my class

  As Asia fumbles

  In her bag

  “I know I’ve got it.”

  Hair falling into her eyes

  As she searches for the calculator

  She borrowed

  That I’ll need

  “Asia!” Kierra calls.

  Pulls out of the crush

  Moving through the hall

  Asia looks up

  focus gone

  “Hey, Kierra.”

  “Go ahead and do it. Put me on the ballot. I’ll run.”

  “Really?” Asia looks at me

  Smiles

  Like Kierra just gave us

  The most fabulous gift

  Ever

  Great.

  I say

  Thinking only of

  My dog

  my dog

  Crying

  “It will be good, right? A chance to get to know more people?” Kierra says.

  “Absolutely!”

  Kierra tucks her hair behind her ear

  “Is there anything I have to do?”

  “Nope. Just show up for our meeting. Tomorrow. After school. Mr. Retsom’s room.”

  “Thanks again for thinking of me.”

  “No problem.”

  Asia shrugs her bag onto her shoulder

  Kierra slides through the door to her classroom

  On the other side of the hall

  The bell rings

  I’m now officially late for class

  “Isn’t this great? Cody will be so excited, right? Now he won’t have to sell candy bars again.”

  He’ll be excited

  About more than the candy bars

  Sure. Calculator?

  “Oh, right! Sorry!”

  Asia pulls it out of her bag

  Shoves it into my hand

  And is

  Gone

  I glance at my calculator

  Running my thumb over the plus and minus keys

  As I slide into my desk

  Reminding myself

  That I can’t let Kierra

  Or anything else

  Get in the way

  Of my goal

  smaller

  leaner

  lighter

  faster

  like

  my

  mom

  Ice-cube Popsicle

  I love cooking shows

  All the ingredients separated into tiny glass bowls

  On a counter

  So large it’s an island

  In a kitchen big as our living room

  This chef

  She’s my favorite

  Wearing more black this season than last

  When she wore lots of red

  Heavier now than she was then

  Not a lot

  But enough

  To wear black

  The woodstove is chock-full of wood

  Burning so hot Blue’s tongue dangles

  He’s splayed out on the couch next to me

  Like he’s sunbathing

  And I’m warm

  For the first time all week

  Cozy

  In two pairs of sweats

  wool socks

  hooded sweatshirt

  If Dad were home

  He’d give me a bad time

  About using so much wood

  Because it hasn’t been

  That cold

  Unseasonably warm

  For February

  But he’s not here

  It’s just me

  And Blue

  Watching the perfect chef

  In her perfect kitchen

  Making the perfect meal

  Commercial break

  I catapult

  Off the couch

  Into motion

  jumping jacks—running-in-place—high knees—football shuffle—running-in-place—heels to butt

  up and down the stairs—once-twice-three times with Blue at my heels—skidding across the linoleum in the kitchen—snake an ice-cube Popsicle from the freezer

  And return to our regularly scheduled programming

  To sit cross-legged on the couch

  Licking an ice-cube Popsicle

  Watching

  The perfect chef

  In her perfect kitchen

  Making the perfect meal

  That neither she

  Or I

  Will eat

  Schizo

  When the night falls open

  Eclipsing the day

  The monologue

  Begins

  Recounting the moments that

  Could have

  Should have

  Been

  If only I would have

  Could have

  Done this

  Said that

  Listening to this monologue

  Detailing

  Everything that should have happened, but didn’t

  The day that should have been

  But wasn’t

  Because I didn’t

  Hadn’t been able to

  Frown then

  Laugh when

  This must be what it’s like to be schizophrenic

  Your internal world

  Your mind

  Crowded and consumed

  Second Time This Week

  I swore I wouldn’t do it again

  Swore on my mother’s grave

 
This

  Again

  It doesn’t matter though

  My best intentions

  Evanescent

  I’m sick

  I’m weak

  My throat burns from the bile

  I wish it hurt more

  Penance

  jump rope

  Penance

  jumping jacks

  Penance

  more jumping jacks

  It’s not fast enough, not hard enough, not enough

  In the bathroom

  I rinse my mouth

  Raise my eyes to the medicine cabinet

  Cold sweat

  Shivering

  The mirror is a pond

  My image

  Floats

  On its surface

  The weight of the water

  Still and dark

  Beckons

  I fall

  A.M. Routine

  The number

  Didn’t go down

  It didn’t go up

  But it didn’t go down

  It should have

  After last night

  The linoleum is cold under my bare feet as I step off the scale

  So I step back on

  Same number

  My clothes are folded square

  Stacked on top of the toilet lid

  Only I forgot to grab socks from my dresser

  Which means I’ll have to run

  To my bedroom when I’m dressed

  My feet freezing

  Which makes me mad

  And my face

  Looks fat

  My legs

  Are fat

  Not that I care

  Because maybe if I weren’t so weak

  I wouldn’t be

  So fat

  It’s just that my

  Feet

  Are turning to ice on the bathroom floor

  And I can’t shove

  My legs

  Into my jeans fast enough

  Or my arms

  Into my shirt quick enough

  Because I’m so fucking cold

  I move fast fast fast out of the bathroom

  Into my room

  Where I ram my toe into a stack of books on the floor

  Spin away on one foot

  Hopping tripping over these fucking books

  That I send flying

  “You okay up there?” Dad calls.

  Yeah, I just tripped.

  Only Blue knows better

  Standing on the opposite side of the bed

  Staring at me

  I hate myself for not remembering

  That he always waits for me

  Curled in a fuzzy dog ball

  While I get ready for school

  I’m so selfish that I didn’t even think

  About how I’d scare him awake

  With those books

  Flying through the air

  Those books that could have hit him,

  But all I ever think about is me

  I crawl over the bed and kneel on the floor next to him

  His body doesn’t bend into the hug I give him

  So I take his face in my hands

  He looks

  Over my shoulder

  I’m sorry, buddy.

  A micro tail wag

  I say it again

  He sideswipes me with his tongue

  All is forgiven

  At least on his part anyway

  Rainstorm

  The smells float up the stairs

  Waffles and sausage

  Make my mouth fill with saliva

  The kind that used to come when I’d get hungry

  Now reminds me of getting sick

  The way your mouth waterfalls cold

  Just before you throw up

  Blue follows me down the stairs

  Into the living room

  Where Asia’s waiting

  She and Dad are standing in the middle of the living room

  Watching the news

  Dad must’ve changed the channel when she arrived

  Because he always watches cartoons in the morning

  A fact nobody knows but Mom and me

  Or, Mom did

  Dad can’t stand to start the day hearing about murders and car crashes

  “Morning,” Asia says.

  Morning.

  “We’re just trying to find a weather report to see how long this rain will last.”

  Dad sets the remote on the coffee table

  Steps out of the living room

  Into the kitchen

  Returns with two waffle sandwiches wrapped in napkins

  Gives one to me

  One to Asia too

  Sausage and egg

  Glued to the waffles with maple syrup and salt

  Just a little bit of the salt

  To go with the sweet

  I used to love

  Now all I can think about are the beads of

  Fat

  That make the sausage

  Pop

  Between my teeth

  We walk out the door

  Stop at the edge of the porch

  Stand for a second

  Staring into the gray mist

  Melting out of the clouds

  “You look tired.”

  Asia’s not looking at me when she says it

  For some reason I wish she was

  Thanks.

  “Sorry, I’m not trying to be mean, but you do.”

  The waffle sandwich is warm in my hand

  The iron pressed squares cup my fingertips

  As I squeeze

  The layers together

  “We better get going. I have to make copies before first block.”

  Why?

  “Agendas. Rodeo club meeting. Did you forget?”

  How could I?

  But I had

  Actually forgotten

  That’s the thing about nights

  Like last night

  when I let the food in

  had to force it out

  They wipe

  Everything

  Clean

  Asia looks at me now

  Begins her sentence with a sigh

  “Please don’t be weird about this.”

  I’m not.

  “Whatever. You should cut her some slack. It was an accident, you know? Besides, we’re doing more than electing a new secretary. We have a whole rodeo to plan.”

  Asia pulls the hood of her jacket up before she steps

  Off the porch

  Into the rain

  I do the same

  Honestly

  Not meaning to let my supposed-to-be breakfast

  Fall out of my hand

  Onto the ground

  It’s an accident

  You know

  Asia jogs around to the driver’s side of the truck

  Her head bowed against the gray

  She doesn’t even see it happen

  And I’m glad

  So glad as I swing the passenger door open

  Climb into the truck

  I lick the syrup off my fingers

  Repeating it in my head

  That number

  Minus five

  The List is Long

  Arena Director

  Announcer

  Secretary

  Judges

  Timers

  Stock Contractor

  Bullfighters

  Pickup riders

/>   Just to name a few

  Then there are the sponsors

  For buckles

  Saddles

  Headstalls

  Who is getting those

  This year?

  Asia is asking

  Micah is listing

  On the dry-erase board at the front of the room

  As the rest of our team sits

  Behind desks

  In this classroom

  Turned club meeting space

  Then there’s the issue of a fund-raiser

  Hopefully singular

  Not plural

  Asia continues

  Because as we all know

  The annual Salida Springs High School Rodeo

  Isn’t a cheap

  Affair

  Kierra actually has a notebook out

  Which makes me mad

  (irrational I know)

  But seriously

  She’s not even secretary

  Yet

  I’m not going to be

  That person

  The petty

  Angry one

  Who breaks a team

  A friendship

  In half

  I remind myself of that

  As I lean over

  And take Cody’s water bottle off his desk

  Unscrewing the cap

  Expecting water

  Getting lemonade

  The shock of the sugar

  Calories

  Hitting my throat

  Makes me cough

  Cody laughs

  At the lemonade

  Nearly coming out

  My nose

  “Give me that,” he whispers.

  Swiping it from my hand

  “Raesha will take care of the sponsors,” he volunteers

  As I try to catch my breath

  Between coughs

  “Perfect,” Asia says

  Directing Micah

  To write my name down

  I kick Cody in the calf

  With the heel of my boot

  Because now everyone is looking at us

  And laughing

  Not a lot

  But enough

  Cody winks at me

  Knowing it’s my turn

  To volunteer him for something

  Now

  None of them realizing that the only thing

  Running through my mind

  Are numbers

  Ninety-nine calories per eight ounces

  In the lemonade

  I didn’t mean

  To swallow

  Meeting Adjourned

  I check the box

  Next to her name

  On the paper ballot

  Micah

  Handed me

  The voting

  The last item on the agenda

  Today

  Ignoring the way Asia

  Is leaning into her conversation with Kierra

  The two of them sitting side by side

 

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