by Melody Dodds
your phone away.
Rupert talked me
out of that.
She crosses her arms.
When someone looks up to you,
you have a responsibility.
What she doesn’t say:
Mia could have died.
Not with her voice,
she doesn’t say it.
But her whole body tells me.
Planted feet, crossed arms, tense shoulders,
deep frown, furrowed brow
and those angry, disappointed eyes.
Mom takes a deep breath.
Then her whole body
screams at me:
YOU could have died.
You could have DIED!
What she doesn’t say:
First Rupert, then Leo,
now you.
Not to me,
she doesn’t say it.
But I heard her crying on the phone.
Standing in my doorway,
Mom’s whole body sighs.
Goes from rigid to limp.
Like she’s giving up.
Giving up on me?
But she doesn’t say,
I’m giving up on you.
She does say,
So you know,
no one is telling Leo.
He’s got enough trouble
of his own.
My body tells her, screams it at her:
I’m sorry
I’m SORRY
I’M SO SORRY!!!
That’s cool, Mom. That’s fair.
I don’t want to go anywhere.
CHRISTMAS EVE DAY
Gramma
is not angry.
But thinks she should be,
maybe.
Mad or maybe
guilty.
(They were
my pills,
after all.)
I go help her
with the baking.
(For real this time.)
The topic comes up.
I change the subject.
Comes up again.
Gramma changes the subject.
Finally,
she makes us tea.
(She’s never been
a coffee drinker.)
We drink tea
and eat still-warm
butter cookies.
And she tells me:
Every generation
has its war
and sends its boys,
and now its girls, too.
Sends them home
with a habit.
World War One
was coffee and cigarettes.
Army handed out
those cancer sticks
like candy.
World War Two
was liquor and speed.
Both sides.
Vietnam,
your great-uncle Seth.
Heroin.
And Afghanistan,
well, that’s where
those poppies grow.
Some of those kids come home
addicted to pills.
Painkillers
are the army’s
new candy.
I’VE KNOWN NO WAR
I’m an addict for no
reason
trigger
war
excuse.
But Gramma says,
It doesn’t matter.
The habit
is a thing
that can find
any of us.
It comes home to roost.
And I understand
that there’s probably a reason
Gramma didn’t take
those pain pills.
Even though
some days
her back hurt
so badly
she couldn’t get
out of bed.
I hug her.
Hard.
And we both feel
forgiven.
CHRISTMAS DAY
We
are all
here. Well, those of us
not in the army. But Leo
Skyped! We all got to talk to
and see him. There’s a tree and a turkey
and some presents. A lot of presents, actually.
Even one to me from Isabella. Mom does have to work
tonight, but not until midnight shift. By which time, she says,
You should be in bed anyway. Everything seems kind of perfect.
All is calm,
all is bright.
Until…
HANG TEN
My phone
buzzes.
It’s a text.
From Johnnie C.
Who I haven’t
heard from
in more than
a week.
It’s two words:
Surf’s up!
I don’t think,
don’t think,
don’t think.
Just type
Hang ten!
Thinking now,
though.
Thinking twice
and three times,
as my thumb
hovers over
WANT TO KEEP READING?
If you liked this book, check out another book
from West 44 Books:
SANCTUARY SOMEWHERE BY BRENNA DIMMIG
ISBN: 9781538382837
Osmel
IN THE ORCHARD
In the orchard picking
his last bag of apples
for the day,
Tío Jorge lifts his cap
and wipes his face.
Lines form
around his eyes
as he squints.
Tío has been
working in the orchard
for more seasons than
anyone can remember.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Melody Dodds is a chemist and former substitute teacher. She currently volunteers at a local youth center as a mentor and tutor, and also writes novels and plays. Addiction can shatter the happiest, cleverest, most amazing people we know. Melody wrote this particular book for anyone who has become addicted, or loved someone who did.
