If I had known that one day my father would crucify himself all for a childhood dream . . . if I had known that I would have a runaway mother lost inside her own locked mind, forever in a world within a world . . . what choices do we really have in this life?
In the distance, walking toward us, I see a lone guy. Hannah instantly turns to me. “Don’t start anything, Grace.”
“Can I just talk to him, Hannah? Please? I just want to ask him if he is really going to take care of you.”
She studies the ground for a second and then nods before walking back to the car.
Dave stops in front of me. He shuffles his feet for a second and hoists his backpack higher up on his shoulder. Without his posse of friends, he looks, and acts, naked.
He casts his eyes over my shoulder to the car. I step forward to block his view.
“Hey, Dave, can we talk?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Do you really know what you are doing?”
“You know, Grace, I might be messed up about a lot of stuff, but I wasn’t raised to just cut and leave. My faith means a lot to me. I want to do the right thing.”
“What way were you raised?” I snap back.
“Cut me some slack, Grace. You’re always so angry. Can’t people make a mistake and then try and make up for it?”
“So it was all just one big mistake!”
“That’s not what I meant! This baby—”
“Stop calling it a baby. It’s a group of cells. A zygote.”
“That is your scientific bullshit.”
“There is a reason your GOD gave scientists the brains to create birth control and abortion. The reason why women have the right to choose. Thank God he’s merciful.”
“I don’t know why I’m even trying to talk to you.” He shoves his hands into his pocket and turns to leave, but then changes his mind. “I actually prayed on this, Grace. I’m not a bad guy. I mean, look at all those people who can’t have babies. What’s wrong with adoption?”
I gape at him. “Seriously? All because of your precious religious beliefs you want the woman to carry and birth your child while you party and vomit and fuck your way through college?”
Dave lowers his voice. “That’s not what I’m saying. Stop twisting my words. I made a stupid mistake. I have to deal with it too, you know.”
“Wow, you really are dealing with everything.”
“I’m not ready to be a father, Grace. I’m not ready to do that for anyone.”
Lies. All his lies. And Hannah crying and waiting for him to be her fairy tale. I push his chest hard with both hands. “Asshole!”
He grabs my wrist and yanks me away from him.
I reach up and grab him by the hair. Bite his shoulder.
“Get off me!” He pushes me away.
I run at him again, grabbing one sleeve of his jacket and tearing at it. I refuse to let go even as he tries to twist away. My breath heaves and my heart races as a distant clanking noise of the train rattles me. No, I can’t let him see me this way. The train is coming. I lunge and hit as hard as I can.
“STOP!” He throws me to the ground.
The back of my head slams against the pavement. Silence screams.
Autumn
In dead silence, Mama dashed across the room and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her down and under the kitchen table. Together they kneeled, hunched over, tented by the tablecloth from the outside world. Mama stared at the floor.
She wanted Mama to stop acting so strange, like a sleepwalker in the sun. She reached out slowly, her fingertips brushing skin. Mama startled at her touch.
“Mama, why are you so quiet?” she asked softly.
Mama glanced at her.
“I hear it,” Mama said in a whisper.
Under the table, with the drape of the tablecloth partly obscuring their view, it felt as though they could be camping. Or pretending that they were in a fort together. Protected from all intruders. She leaned into Mama.
“Let’s pretend they can’t find us under here, Mama. Like Frog and Toad,” she said.
Mama nodded. “We are safe under here, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” she said. “Remember our spell?”
Mama smiled. Sometimes they did that when she had been younger and afraid of the dreams. The dreams that wound their way into her nights and she awoke crying. The three of them sat on her bed and said spells to ward off the bad dreams.
“Mist and light. Darkness bright. Shield us from the evil fright.”
Mama repeated the words, “Mist and light. Darkness bright. Shield us from the evil fright.”
Mama’s hands were clenched, her face sweaty and tight with fear. Over and over they repeated their spell. But still Mama would not stop her trembling. Mama began to mutter other words. “Father, Father. God, hear me. This will not end here. Please, Father. Please, I cannot. I beg you. Father. God. Father. Lord. I beg you. Please do not ask this of me.” Mama knitted her hands together so hard the skin of her fingers turned red and white.
She did not know what to do when Mama went inward like this. She remembered her father holding his hand over her mother’s lips once when Mama would not, could not stop screaming. He had shoved the pills that she refused to take into her mouth. Made her swallow them.
“Mama, you need your pills,” she whispered. “I’ll go get them.” She began to edge out from under the table. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”
“NO!” Mama shrieked, and grabbed her arm. “No, you cannot leave. You’ll die if you leave.”
Mama locked eyes with her, and she spoke so low it sounded more like a snarl than words. “The train is coming for us. Listen.”
She strained to listen for the train. All she could hear was the sunlight dappling the floors.
Spring
I squint against the glaring sun before slowly propping myself up.
Dave stands off to
