Rainie told me—
if you’re using your windshield wipers,
you have to have your lights on.
Now that the trial is over,
Mom says,
I expect that you’ll put your attention
back where it belongs—
on your schoolwork.
Mom is concentrating hard
on the rainy road in front of us,
so she doesn’t notice that I’m trying
to defrost the foggy windshield
with my laser judge eyes.
I’ll take that under advisement,
I answer.
Where Are You, Clay?
Clay is not at the river.
There is no note left
under a rock there,
because I look.
Mama duck swims by,
her babies following
in a row.
I throw one of Dad’s
work hats
into the eddy.
Lightweight, it bobs there
on top of the water.
I turn back home
before it sinks.
Clay is not at home.
I see his father leave
in the Bugz Away van
by himself.
No light comes on
in Clay’s room,
no hand at his window.
The next day it’s me
on the line,
waiting for when Gwen
gets the mail.
Only I can’t see the line
anymore,
and I cross over
to the mailbox.
Gwen’s not wearing
her bathrobe,
but her sweatpants and sweatshirt
are not much better.
Her hair looks like
she just woke up
and forgot to brush the back.
I don’t even have to ask.
She tells me
three things about Clay:
Yesterday,
he cashed all his paychecks
at once,
that he’s been holding on to
for five months.
I do the books for the business,
so I saw it.
My brother told me
Clay bought the pickup truck
he had for sale—
paid for it outright.
And before he left the courtroom,
Clay whispered to me,
that whatever happened,
not to worry
about him.
Gwen looks as proud
as if she’s telling me
Clay got into his
first-choice college.
Saving his paychecks
Buying a pickup
Telling Gwen not to worry.
I think she is happiest about
Number Three—
her son cared enough
that he didn’t want her to worry.
It all sounds like a plan.
A plan Clay never talked about
to me.
Did he say anything else?
I ask.
In the courtroom, I mean.
Before he left?
Like where he was going?
Or what he was going to do?
Gwen studies my face.
She puts a finger
on the place
where I fell.
I stand very still,
waiting.
Oh my, yes,
how could I forget.
He told me to tell you
he’s going down the river.
Gwen waits for me
to tell her
what Clay means by
“going down the river.”
If I had to guess,
I’d say it means he’s
moving on,
letting the current
carry him along.
I think it’s her finger gently rubbing
on the place
where it hurts,
like she is trying to erase
the bruise,
that makes me say,
I think it means he’s okay,
that he’s doing what he needs to
right now.
Even if it’s not true,
there’s a good moment
there at the Number 24 mailbox
when we both believe
what I say.
When’s Clay’s birthday?
I ask Gwen,
thinking of my birthday
and Jonah’s.
It was last month,
on the fifth.
Oh,
I say.
Here I am wanting Clay there
for my birthday,
and I missed even saying
happy birthday
to him
on his.
Today I have all the questions
for Gwen.
What color is the truck?
Red, I think,
Gwen says.
Now we both
will have our eyes out
for that color.
Jonah
The day after the trial
I stay home from school.
I tell Mom I’m a little dizzy,
which is half true.
If I stare at the end of my nose
with both eyes,
I do get dizzy.
I’m doing what Mom said she wants
me to do—
“putting my attention
back where it belongs”—
and today it belongs
with Jonah.
I still keep the Jonah calendar
in my head,
but I changed the rules
for Good Day/Bad Day.
It doesn’t matter
how many of Jonah’s machines
lend a hand.
As long as Jonah
doesn’t cry
to be set free,
it’s a good day.
This way,
there’s a much better chance
for a good month.
Jonah’s been sleeping
a lot,
Vivian says,
since he went to the courthouse.
Time to wake up, lazy boy.
I hold on to Jonah’s shoulders
while I bounce the bed,
so we bounce together.
No time off, Jonah,
not when I’m here
and I need your attention.
Jonah opens his eyes.
Thank you, Jonah,
nice to see those
baby blues.
Here Vivian is thinking
she’s not your favorite nurse,
’cause you’re sleeping
through her shift,
I tease him.
Jonah’s eyes move to Vivian,
where she stands by his bed,
filling up Food Truck.
Jah-Nee,
Jonah says,
with a sidelong glance
at Vivian.
Did you say
what I think you said?
Vivian does a very good
fake-hurt face.
Did you say you liked Johnny
better than me?
JAH-NEE,
Jonah repeats,
louder this time,
and laughs in the way
Jonah now laughs.
It’s a cross between
a cough and a gag,
like the laugh is in there,
but it’s hard to get it out.
Vivian and I laugh with him,
and Vivian gives him a hug.
When she does that,
Jonah leans his head
into hers,
and I feel something
very private
pass between them.
The little animal inside me
gets throw-something mad.
Jonah teased Vivian.
All the nurses
love him.
Jonah has this world
without me.
Everything is turned
upside down.
I know it’s wrong
to feel this way
about my brother,
but the animal is hurt
and won’t listen
to reason.
We’re all changing places.
No one is who they’re
supposed to be.
Gwen understands me
better than Mom.
Sara is the one
who gives Rainie
what she needs.
Elinor is Mom’s new
BFF and stand-in family.
Vivian is not just