It’s better to be miserable
together.
After Jonah’s cold,
his Suck-It-Up machine
gets a playmate—
Zombie Vest.
Zombie Vest jiggles Jonah’s
lungs twenty minutes
twice a day,
and Suck-It-Up
gets rid of the gunk.
Dr. Kate tells Mom
Jonah can go to a nursing home
if it is
too much.
He would get
good care.
It would be
round the clock.
No one would
judge her.
Dr. Kate would
fully support her decision.
We could visit
24/7.
Jonah would be in
good hands.
Dr. Kate waits for Mom
to say something.
When Mom doesn’t answer,
she adds,
And you could personalize
Jonah’s room.
Personalize?
Mom repeats.
You mean like a banner with his name?
Mom says banner
like it’s a curse word.
Dr. Kate is starting to look sorry
she brought this up.
Not necessarily a banner,
though of course
it could be a banner.
Things like posters,
or sports trophies,
or family photos.
Posters?
Mom gives Dr. Kate
her blank look,
the one that means
“Why are you telling me this?
How about not.”
And I know right then,
there is no way
Jonah is going
anywhere.
Ears
The school counselor
wants to have a chat.
He does most of the chatting.
Your teachers say you are not
participating in class
or handing in assignments.
I lean over his desk
and tap my ears.
I can’t always hear
what’s going on.
He looks relieved.
Well, I can see that could
be a problem.
I’ll make an appointment
for you
with the school audiologist.
In the meantime
I can arrange that you get to sit
up front.
I raise my hand.
Oh no, please,
I don’t want anyone
feeling sorrier for me
than they already are.
He gives me a kind
counselor smile.
Got it, Liv.
Elinor
At the soup kitchen
people say
Hi there, singer girl
and talk to me for the first time.
Hunter isn’t there.
Elinor and I work in the
walk-in cooler,
checking expiration dates.
Donated food
goes bad, too.
Only one more afternoon
with us, Elinor comments.
I’m guessing she’s thinking
I’m gonna say
how much l love volunteering
how much I’ve learned
how I want to keep giving back,
finding meaning here.
I’d like to come visit
your mother,
Elinor says.
I don’t know about that.
Mom’s kinda busy
working at Tractor Barn.
Trying to clean the house
on the weekends.
That last part
about the cleaning
isn’t exactly true.
Elinor gives me a
mind-reader look,
Your mom and I used to hang out
with the same crowd in high school.
My brother worked with your father
in the mill.
My aunt lives one block over from
where you live.
Maybe some Sunday
your mother has off?
Right, this is a small town.
You don’t need to give anyone
your résumé.
They already know everything
they need to know.
That’s up to you.
Try giving her a call
is the nicest warning I can think of.
Sounds
The school audiologist
is friendly,
at first.
I like the sounds the machine makes
in my ears.
They remind me of the sounds I hear
in class—
Bip Barp Eet Dud Deep
When we’re done
she says she didn’t find
any problem
with my hearing.
I scored well
on high-pitched sounds, too.
Oh, like what a dog hears
or a bat?
I ask her.
I forget which animal hears those sounds
or makes them.
No, she says,
this test is for
PEOPLE.
I confess,
It’s more the words
that are the problem,
not the sounds.
I see, she says,
but does she?
River
Next time we meet
at the river,
Clay’s hair is wet
and he smells like soap,
but there is still a chemical smell
in the air.
He looks even skinnier.
Are the chemicals slowly
exterminating him
like a bedbug or a flea
or a carpenter ant?
Would the river
wash him clean?
Would it wash
both of us
clean?
I don’t have the heart
to play Three Things.
I lie back on the dock
next to Clay.
The snow is gone
from the banks now,
and today for the first time
I heard the loud honking
of Canada geese,
returning north for spring.
If it wasn’t half dark
we could see the sky.
So much sky
over the river.
If we fell asleep right here,
I say,
when we woke up
the first thing we’d see
is the sky.
That’s true,
Clay says.
He’s nice enough
not to point out that
even though it’s spring,
we’d freeze
if we tried to sleep outside
this time of year.
Gwen
One morning
Gwen is waiting for me
on the line again
in her bathrobe.
I know about the river,
she says.
What about the river?
The river belongs to
everyone.
Does Clay talk to you there
at the river?
He won’t talk to me.
He won’t listen
about going back to school.
Can you talk to him?
Please.
It’s the please
that gets to me,
and the bathrobe
and the fact
that she won’t
cross the invisible line.
Talk about what?
Talk about anything.
We don’t know
what he’s thinking
anymore.
What he wants.
Gwen reaches a hand out
to me.
I tell my hand NO
but it grasps Gwen’s
across the line.
I don’t know what I have
promised Gwen
or how I will keep
that promise.
Friends
It’s decided
my time-out
from the cafeteria
is over.
The office secretary says
she’ll miss my company
at lunch.
Rainie, Piper, and Justine
make room for me at the table.
This is what’s in my school salad—