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The Sky Between You and Me

Page 19

by Catherine Alene


  But it was great

  That’s what I’d said when Dad brought it home

  So excited to fix it up with me

  That summer after seventh grade

  I’d had to work at it at first

  Shoving the magazine picture out of my mind

  The one I’d taped to the bottom of my sock drawer

  I knew it was too much

  What with the tractor

  Needing to be replaced

  Too expensive to ask for

  A bike like that

  It’s still there

  On the bottom of my sock drawer

  The picture edged with yellowed tape

  Of the Sapphire Princess

  White tires with saber-toothed treads

  To crunch through the gravel in the drive

  Tropical sea blue frame

  Silver streamers fountaining out of the handlebars

  I knew just how they would sound

  Those metallic streamers

  Snapping in the wind I would make

  The best part had been the seat

  Cloud white

  With a picture of a butterfly

  Pulling a ribbon of rainbow across the sky

  The more we had sanded

  oiled

  primed

  That old bike

  The easier it became to see my butterfly

  That old bike

  Rattle-canned new

  Named Ollie

  Kinetic

  My legs need to move

  I don’t run

  But a walk wouldn’t be fast enough to keep up with my mind

  That won’t stop skipping

  Back to the memory

  Of Cody

  Looking down at me

  After my head

  It bounced

  That’s what he said

  Back to Asia’s truck

  Driving

  Away

  Which is where Ollie comes in

  It’s been a long time

  Since Ollie came off the wall

  A mass of thistle twisted through her spokes

  Leave itchy nettle bites across my knuckles

  Up my arms

  As I pull her free

  Tires need air

  Seat has to be raised

  But the paint

  Goldenrod yellow according to the can

  Sealed out the rust that comes after the rain

  Twisting up the seat is harder than I thought

  Pollen slurries with dust

  Solders screws stiff

  It’s worth it though

  This getting her out

  Ready for a ride

  Because if anyone would understand

  How I feel

  It would be Ollie

  Ollie knows what it is

  To lie dismembered on the porch

  Evening after evening

  Listening to the night bugs bounce off the porch light

  Wondering if you’ll be put back together

  If all the pieces will still fit

  All I want to do is ride

  Somewhere

  Fast enough

  To leave the confusion

  Behind

  Wake-up Call

  I shouldn’t have gone back in

  To grab my water bottle

  But I did

  Now the phone is ringing

  I do

  Don’t

  Want to

  Have to

  Answer it

  Because what if it’s

  Dad

  Hello.

  “Raesha?”

  Mr. Bradford. How are you?

  “Good. I was calling because I heard you—”

  Right now I hate this teeny, tiny town

  Where news can’t be corralled

  For even a second

  Got sick. But it’s no big deal. I’m fine now.

  “Glad to hear it. I’ve got to have everyone healthy you know.”

  I can picture him

  Playing with the brim of his ball cap

  Wishing this call was over

  Almost more than I do

  Because cowboys like him

  Don’t have conversations

  Like this

  “You haven’t looked well…”

  I’ve been tired.

  My feet pace

  Across the linoleum and back

  Not liking where this conversation

  “I’m going to need you to get a doctor’s note before you ride again.”

  Just went

  What?

  “It’s a liability thing. No big deal.”

  But I can still come to practice on Friday, right?

  “Sure. Just bring me a note.”

  All right.

  Knowing that won’t

  Happen

  I’ll forge one

  Before I go to a doctor

  Who will get it all wrong

  I’m not sick

  I’m ready to ride

  “Take care, Rae.”

  Flat line

  Dial tone

  Conversation

  Done

  Blackout

  Leaner

  Lighter

  Faster

  Minus five

  This game

  Isn’t

  Over

  Yet

  This person I’m watching

  From far away

  Looks a lot

  Like

  Me

  Pouring cereal

  Whole grain O’s

  Into the bowl

  With milk

  Lots of

  Milk

  Bowl

  After

  Bowl

  Because I deserve

  To hurt

  Like

  This

  Poison Control

  It has been in my top drawer

  This tiny brown bottle

  Tucked into a roll

  Of green and white socks

  With tiny kittens on the toes

  Two tablespoons

  Should do the

  Trick

  So I drink

  Four

  Plus two

  Not expecting

  The maple syrup

  Sweet

  Taste

  That makes me gag

  As I pour water

  Glass

  After

  Glass

  Of water

  Down my throat

  Hands shake

  Falling leaves

  Frost melts

  Into beads

  Of sweat

  Turns my skin cold

  As my knees

  Find the floor

  Retching

  Only water

  From a stomach

  Twisted

  Torn

  To

  Rags

  Blood runs

  Turns my knuckles red

  It’s still

  Not

  Enough

  When will

  It will

  Never

  Be

  Enough

  Roller Coaster Road

  It’s called Roller Coaster Road

  Not by any sign or map

  You know when you’re on it though

  Taking the back way to town

  All of a sudden the road starts to buck

 
That pounded clay road

  Rises out of the flat

  Tosses you up

  Slides you down

  Over and over

  That’s where I go

  To the hills

  That rise and fall

  To the hills

  Guaranteed to make

  My muscles burn

  My heart slam

  In my chest

  Guaranteed to push

  My body

  To the edge

  All Fall Down

  I pedal

  Hard

  Gaining momentum

  Down the first

  Hill

  Losing it on the way up

  The next

  Standing

  Weight in my heels

  As I push the pedals

  Around

  Heartbeat thunder

  In my ears

  Muscles scream

  Stomach cramps

  Fold me

  Over

  Tires slow

  Ollie’s front wheel

  Right angles as she clatters

  To the ground

  I fall

  Heaving

  Eyes streaming

  Bile

  In my throat

  Blood

  On my lips

  The sound

  Of a diesel engine

  Louder

  Coming

  Closer

  Registers

  Gravel cuts

  My palms

  I drag myself

  Toward the edge

  Of the road

  Dry grass

  Against my cheek

  Everything

  Goes

  Dark

  911

  I gather them up

  First my arms

  Then my legs

  Straighten them

  Bend them into being

  Remind myself that they’re still attached

  To this body that’s mine

  That’s up

  Running toward the truck tipped on its side

  In the grass on the far side of the road

  Wheels still spinning

  All I hear is her name

  Lacey, Lacey, Lacey

  In a voice that’s not my own

  It’s hers

  Kierra

  Calling to the sister who won’t open her eyes

  Kierra lifts Lacey

  Passes her through the window of the door dented shut

  Puts her in my arms

  I’m scared

  By the blood above her eyes that should be open

  Careful of her arm

  With too many bends

  As I set her gently, so gently

  On the ground

  Kierra needs me

  I reach through the window

  Our fingers twine

  I pull

  She climbs though the window

  Into the fuel-soaked air

  We have to chain link

  Arm through arm

  Not sure who is supporting-dragging-pulling who

  Onto the grass

  Lacey, Lacey, Lacey

  I can hear the sirens

  See the rescue vehicles in the finally that feels like forever

  The trucks

  One of them white

  Wailing red

  Loud enough to wake her

  Lacey, Lacey, Lacey

  Eyes thrummed open by the pain

  Out of the dark

  I

  fall

  in

  Next Please

  It’s my own reflection

  Staring back at me

  From the plate glass wall

  Separating the waiting room

  From the gift shop full of flowers

  I look away

  From the image

  Of the girl I hate

  Watch people in wheelchairs and casts

  Move through the doors to the parking lot

  Open

  Close

  Inhale

  Exhale

  Wishing the door to the ER

  At the end of the hall

  Would do the same

  Kierra got to go in

  Being family and all

  Wasn’t made to sit on an orange plastic chair with faux wood arms

  That match the counter

  The nurse in teddy bear scrubs

  Sits behind

  Fingers moving across a keyboard

  Eyes locked on her computer screen

  I can’t look at them

  Those fuzzy brown bears tumbling across her shirt

  So I go back to looking at the bloody-lipped, bruised, stiff girl

  Who looks a lot

  Like me

  If Only

  It’s my fault

  I dug them

  The holes that our words fell into

  Dad’s

  Mine

  Excavated the dirt myself

  That I packed into balls and flung

  At Kierra

  Who wouldn’t have pulled off the road

  So hard

  Too fast

  Wouldn’t be behind the red-signed doors

  With Lacey

  My-her-our Lacey

  Lacey with her arm bent so wrong

  If I wouldn’t have been there

  Been able to pull Ollie into the grass

  If I could handle looking at the world straight

  But I couldn’t

  Had to slant it sideways

  Had to be light

  The kind that comes from doing without

  When you’re trying to turn yourself into a shadow

  I just thought

  Maybe

  If I could whittle

  Strip away the part of me that

  loves-hates-cries-worries-wonders-thinks

  Too much

  The me that was left

  Wouldn’t hurt anyone

  Wouldn’t leave them lying in a bed

  Breathing butterfly breaths

  Until they’re sent home

  When the doctors know

  What they don’t tell you

  That the needles running in

  Can’t replace

  All the life

  Leaking out

  These calm, peach-colored walls

  With the pictures of

  flowers-fruit-trees

  Life turned still

  I can’t sit here

  All my pacing

  Sets the nurse glaring

  I can’t calm down

  Not when I’m thinking about Dad

  They told him I was fine

  But Dad doesn’t know

  Won’t believe

  Until he sees me

  So he’ll drive too fast

  Will forget how the washboards pull your truck

  To the side of the road

  Then it will be

  My fault

  Again

  Spare Change

  The nurse raises her eyes from the computer screen

  Distracted by my pacing

  Hands me change

  She pulled from a drawer

  Beneath the counter

  “Why don’t you get yourself something to eat?” she suggests.

  “The cafeteria is closed, but there are vending machines.”

  I know where they are

  Machines backed aga
inst a wall

  Plastic fronts glowing

  In the room

  The size of a closet

  Next to the elevator

  I remember this place

  “Get yourself a treat.”

  That’s what they’d said

  Aunts, uncles, neighbors

  Handed me quarters

  Clustered around Dad

  Fenced him off from the doctor coming down the hall

  In his paper pants

  Mask pushed down around his neck

  I begin at the end farthest from the door

  Cokes, ice cream, coffee

  It doesn’t matter

  How much

  What it is

  One machine, then the next

  Punching the coins into the slot

  The best part is the sound of my palm

  The sound of it slapped flat against the buttons

  Smooth rectangles

  Small round knobs

  pop open the skin, pulled white across your knuckles curled in a fist

  if you hit them

  just right

  I pretend it’s my fist knocking them out

  The cans

  bars

  cups

  Rattle-clunked down the belly of the machines into the trays

  It doesn’t take long to get a rhythm

  Build up speed

  whack, rattle, clunk,

  whack, rattle, clunk, fat

  whack, rattle, clunk, worthless

  whack, rattle, clunk, bitch

  whack, rattle, clunk, fat

  whack, rattle, clunk, worthless

  whack, rattle, clunk, bitch

  whack, fat whack, fat whack, fat whack, fat

  whack

  “Raesha—”

  Daddy—

  I stop

  It all

  Right then

  Crying and crying until my chest is empty

  With his arms wrapped around me

  All the pieces

  I thought I’d lost

  Come together

  Waiting—Still Waiting

  I know it’s still there

  The scared

  That filled her eyes

  Spilled down her cheeks

  Left riverbeds of red

  When she’d heard

  It was them

  Pulled from the crumpled cab

  Coughing bile and blood

  Stretched out backboard-straight

  With latex gloves

  How will she do it?

  Corral it

  Inside her chest

  Where a grandma’s heart beats

  It’s what I worry about

  Sitting curled into Dad

  In this space

  That tastes like bleach

  Waiting

  Worried

  Waiting

  Wondering

  When her eyes will turn to slate

  If they haven’t already

 

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