Caught
“Unbelievable!” says Mom.
She shakes her head.
Dale jumps up from the couch with his sword.
“Got you!” he yells, jabbing it at the TV.
I smile huge.
Another answered prayer.
Fault
It still isn’t
Chris’s dad’s fault,
like Dad’s leaving
and Mr. Paul hurting me
aren’t my fault.
And Chris being kidnapped
wasn’t his own fault.
Chris’s kidnapper
deserved jail
then
and now.
I hope Chris’s dad
knows it
even
in the middle
of the night.
The Phone
“Did you hear?” Wally asks.
“Yeah!”
“It’s so great!”
“And I heard the guy’s in jail without bail.”
“Me too,” says Wally.
“Makes me super glad for Chris.”
“Yeah, me too, Essie.”
“Jail is what that guy deserves.”
Stay Scared
I switch the phone
to my other ear.
“Chris doesn’t have to be afraid
anymore,” says Wally.
“Now that the guy’s caught
and in jail,
he can’t hurt him
again.”
“That
must be really nice,” I say.
“Well, even so,
Chris might stay scared
anyway
for a long time.”
“And have nightmares,” we say together.
Midnight Snack
My spoon
carves away
the ice cream.
Who brought us
this Chocolatey Chunk
Goo-Goo Cluster?
Maybe Mrs. Lyon stopped by again.
Mmmm.
I lick the spoon clean
and see myself
upside down.
Turning it over,
I’m right side up
and smiling.
Saturday Afternoon
Mom reads on the couch
while Dale and I
do homework.
Pop.
We look up.
“Get me a towel, Estele Leann!” she says.
I race and bring one
to her.
She holds it between her legs
and hobbles to the bathroom.
“What was that pop?” Dale asks.
I look at the wet spot on the couch.
“I think the baby’s coming,” I say.
“Now?” he asks.
“Now!”
The Window
Dale and I wave
from the window.
Mom is blowing kisses
at us
as Ms. Ruthie drives
them down the street
in her little car.
We listen till the put-put-put disappears.
“Wow, the baby’s coming,” says Dale.
“Yeah,” I say.
Together,
we are totally alone.
Gone
Mom’s been gone for hours
since Ms. Ruthie took her to the hospital.
The spot on the couch
is almost dry even.
Dale and I finished our homework,
so now we get to watch
Homeward Bound on video.
Will my family
make it home
like Sassy, Chance, and Shadow?
Mom
and the baby?
Dad won’t.
There’s no number to call
and tell him the baby’s coming.
He doesn’t even deserve to get told.
The movie credits come on.
Dale hits rewind.
We watch
the whole thing backward.
The reunion breaks apart
and everyone
is lost again.
That looks
more like our family.
A Report
Ms. Ruthie calls.
“Your mom’s doing fine.
The baby’s not born yet,
but it’s fine too.
Are you two fine?”
“Yeah.”
“Your mom’s dilated to eight centimeters.
And that’s smacking good.”
Okay, whatever that means.
“Thanks for being her labor partner,” I say.
“No problem.”
I gulp some tears.
“You just take care
of your little brother
and remember
to keep those doors locked.”
“Okay.”
We hang up.
I breathe in
a jaggedy breath.
Even if I’m not taking care of Mom,
I’m taking care of Dale.
That’s better than the zilch
Dad’s doing.
Thinking It Over
Mom’s doing fine.
I never even thought she wouldn’t be fine.
All I’ve thought about this baby
is how Mom needed to get someone else
to help
get it out.
So I don’t know about
stuff
that would make Mom
not fine.
What could go wrong?
What could go wrong with Mom?
Could anything happen to the baby?
Yuck!
I pick up the birthing pamphlet
on the counter
and open it.
Oh, yuck!
I shove it under the phone book.
Why do they have to use photos
and show
everything?
Thank you, God,
for Ms. Ruthie!
Praying Over Our Peanut Butter Dinner
“God, please keep Mom safe.
Bring the baby out safe.
Bring them home safe.
Thanks again
for bringing Chris back.”
While We Eat
“What if Mom doesn’t come back?” says Dale.
“She will,” I say. “She’d never leave us.”
“But my friend Shawn at school
knows someone whose Mom died
trying to get a baby out.”
I don’t answer.
How can he be seven
and know this stuff,
and I just thought of it?
“What if Mom doesn’t come back
’cause she dies?” he asks.
“We aren’t going to think about that,” I say,
and then I start to pray
all over again
in my head.
Ms. Ruthie Must Be Calling Everyone
A couple of the ladies from church,
Mrs. Lyon,
and even Ms. Dryden
call and ask if Dale and I are all right.
I say yes each time,
and they each make me say
I’ll call if we need anything at all,
even just a bit of company.
Even if it’s in the middle of the night!
I take down their numbers.
It sure is
super duper nice of them.
In the Night
An infomercial
wakes me up.
“This machine
has a rock-solid base.”
I flick off the TV.
Dale is on the floor with his pillow.
His fingers are twined in the throw rug fringe,
and he’s curled
in a tight little ball.
I go around and double-check
that all the doors are locked.
I hold t
he phone and peek out the windows
to remind myself that
Mr. Paul isn’t out there.
Very scary,
but better than not knowing
for sure.
I check the phone for messages
in case I didn’t hear it ring.
Nothing.
I lie down next to Dale,
and put my head on the corner of his pillow.
It smells like peanut butter, milk, and boy sweat,
but it’s okay.
I hold him tight
and fall asleep.
Ring!
“Hello?”
“It’s a boy,” Mom says, all quivery.
“A boy!” I shout.
“Dale, it’s a boy!”
I’m yelling.
He sits up,
stares at me,
wakes completely, and
then starts yelling too.
“It’s a brother!
It’s a brother!
It’s a Kevin!”
Sunday
No church for us today.
Ms. Ruthie checked in on us this morning
and then went to catch up on some sleep
at her house.
I get to call everyone who called last night
and tell them we are fine
and about Kevin being born.
When Mom calls again,
she asks us to dust
the baby’s room.
So we do that
and line up all our old stuffed animals
on the clean windowsill
for the new baby to meet.
I get out a tiny sheet
from the dresser
and make up the bassinet.
I set Dumplin’ Spinner
in the corner.
We are so ready
for Mom
to bring our baby home.
Fine
In the afternoon Pastor Lyon calls.
“I stopped in and saw your mom
and the baby
before church.”
“How are they?”
“We can thank God, Estele.
Your mother is up and around already,
and the baby is as healthy as can be.”
“Great!”
“Now, would you like
me and Mrs. Lyon to stop by?”
“Nope. Ms. Ruthie should be bringing
Mom and the baby home soon.
We’re fine, but thanks for calling.”
We’re absolutely fine.
Sunday Night
We stand lookout at the window.
Right after the sun sets,
I spot some headlights
coming toward our house.
Ms. Ruthie pulls into the driveway.
“Mom!”
I unlock the front door,
and Dale and I burst outside.
We barrel down on Mom
before she can get all the way out of the car.
“You came back!” Dale shouts,
and he squeezes her tight.
I glob right onto them both,
and I’m saying it too,
“Mom, you came back!”
Ms. Ruthie’s getting the car seat out of the back
and I know the baby’s right there,
but we are holding on to each other,
and no one wants to let go.
Until Mom finally says,
“Come meet Kevin Calvin Sherman.”
Hello
I’m looking
at the tiniest little toenail
I’ve ever seen.
The tiniest eyelashes
in the world.
The tiniest baby earlobe.
I’m looking
at this tiny baby
and loving him
bigger than anything.
Together in Our House
Mom is fine.
Her belly is still big
and wobbly,
and she’s rubbing her back.
But Mom is fine,
standing right here
beside me.
Smiling at Ms. Ruthie,
listening to Dale’s story
about sleeping in the living room,
swaying Kevin in one arm,
Mom slips the other
around my waist,
and snugs me close.
We sway
together.
Call
“You call if you need anything,”
says Ms. Ruthie.
“Okay” Mom, Dale, and I answer.
She pulls the front door closed
and leaves us alone.
Thump, Thump
We all sit down
on the couch.
“Here.”
Mom puts Kevin in my arms.
He’s warm and soft.
I touch his little bird chest
and feel the tiniest heartbeat
pulse under my fingertips.
I love this little heart.
All at Once
This baby
teaches me that
my dad did love me
when I was born.
Who can’t love
a tiny sweet baby?
All at once
this baby
teaches me
to try to stop hating Dad,
and instead
to feel so, so sorry for him,
because Dad isn’t ever coming back
to live with our beautiful, precious baby.
Dad is the one losing out
on everything.
On each one of us.
He’s the victim.
That’s what this baby
teaches me
all at once.
Right Here
Mom takes Kevin back
and kisses his cheek.
Dale reaches over
and pats the baby’s forehead.
I lean forward
and watch the three of them.
Wally, who’s so smart,
was so wrong
for once.
The baby didn’t make me disappear.
I put my arm
around Mom.
She smiles at me.
Wally was wrong.
I didn’t disappear.
I’m right here
with my family.
Moving On
I wonder
how much Chris hates
that kidnapper?
Earlier the news reporter said
Chris is trying to move
beyond the hate
and focus on recovery and his family.
Beyond hate
is a better place to be.
Maybe we can get there.
Together
I make some popcorn,
Mom nurses Kevin,
and Dale takes the dirty diaper
out to the garbage.
Sometime soon,
Mom will be able to look for work,
and I’ll baby-sit.
We won’t need the church
to help us then.
Dale will learn to do some of the cleaning.
Knowing him,
he’ll like scrubbing the skanky toilet.
We don’t need someone to take care of us.
We can take care
of each other.
Four
Mom, Dale,
Kevin, and I
make four.
That’s us.
Family.
Final Count
I just realized.
Chris came home
eight weeks to the day
after the kidnapping.
Kevin came home
eight weeks to the day
after Dad left.
Amazing!
Thank you, God, I pray.
Telling My Best Friend on the Phone
“The baby’s so cute, Wally!”
“Ye
ah, just wait until
it heaves and vomits and then
starts messing with your stuff.
You’ll want to beam it out of there.”
“I know, but
he’s so adorable.”
“Well, I guess that happens
sometimes.”
“Well, it did this time.”
“Cool.”
“Very”
Part of Me
I pull a photo
out from my underwear drawer.
Dad and I are waving
at the camera.
I trace the taped rip
with my fingertip.
Me with Dad.
Me.
And my dad.
Even if
he has a Caribbean Juicies lady
who may have a daughter,
this is still me,
and he’s
a part
of me
like
I’m
a part
of him.
I tuck the photo
under the edge of my mirror.
I can barely see
the tape.
My Dream
“So you are saying,”
the policeman asks,
“you don’t want us
to find your father?”
“Right.”
“You are fine with him not coming back?”
“No, because I still love him,
I’m pretty sure.
He is
my dad and all.
We did great stuff together,
and he used to love me.
But he doesn’t want to live here anymore,
and I know
the four of us are fine.”
The policeman smiles. “Glad to hear it.”
“Me too.”
No Doubt
I get Doozerdude
all ready for school.
We load our dirty dishes.
He stands lookout for Ms. Ruthie.
I peek into Mom’s room.
She’s sitting up in bed
and motions me in.
There’s Kevin
in the curl of her arm
making tiny moaning noises.
His baby lips are puckered out.
I give Mom a kiss on the cheek
and Kevin one on the forehead.
A deep breath
fills me up with baby-smell sweetness.
“Have a good day,” Mom whispers.
“You too.”
I know she will.
Monday
It’s weird
to sit behind Ms. Ruthie
while she drives us to school.
Her little round car buzzes us down the road.
“Your Mom needs her rest,
and I really don’t mind helping out for a while.
It feels good.”
“Thanks” Dale and I answer from the backseat.
I stare at her hair-sprayed head.
This is very weird,
but Ms. Ruthie is great.
“Yoo-hoo—have a good day!” she calls at school
when we have walked away from the car.
“You too!” I yell to her.
Hold Me Tight Page 16
