I did my job and tried not to think of what still hurt to the quick.
My aunt leaving me.
I worked like a madman. Went through all those dinosaur books. The insects. Sharks.
The air conditioner flicked on, making the lights dim for a second. I tried hard not to remember the next part of that late night. The part of me running into the dew-covered grass, my legs getting damp from the calves right on down. The stars so bright. The sky not appearing at all the way I felt it should. You know, sad for what was happening in my house. What was happening to me.
What about you?
“Aunt Linda.”
She was in her car by then. Her three suitcases piled up in the backseat.
She glanced at me, her face lit pale in the dashboard lights. “Lacey-girl. What are you doing following me? You’re gonna catch a cold.” She used her gentle reading voice there in the dark. So Momma wouldn’t hear? Wouldn’t wake up and call the police? “You don’t want your mother to see you.”
Goose bumps covered my arms and I rubbed the chill away.
“Where you going?” I had stood in Aunt Linda’s bedroom doorway watching while she packed, even after Momma sent me to my room three different times, the last with a swat to the bottom—at my age.
But I had snuck out. I had to sneak out. Had to say good-bye.
“Where are you going?” I asked. A breeze pushed at oak leaves making them chatter.
“Now baby, I can’t tell you that.” Tears filled up Aunt Linda’s eyes. For a moment I was sure they’d spill free, slide down her face, drip off her chin, maybe fall fall fall all the way to China. But those tears didn’t fall. Not even when she gave a shrug.
“Why not?” Something jabbed at my insides.
Aunt Linda looked past the windshield of the car like the way she spoke of was up ahead. Though the engine was on, she’d left the lights off. She took in a deep breath, let her words escape with it. But it was like she spoke to herself. “I knew this was coming for a while now. I could see it coming.” She shook her head. “I could see poor Angela getting lower. More depressed and anxious and afraid. Like before. You remember before, don’t you, Lacey?” I nodded. “I tried to get her into the doctor, but she wouldn’t have any of the pills he gave her.” Aunt Linda squeezed the steering wheel. “I can’t stand to see your mother like this. It’s so hard to watch her. It’s as though she’s had our father sitting on her shoulder for the last few months. It’s like he’s pointing the directions she should go and she never hesitates.” Aunt Linda took in a deep breath.
My feet were cold. A frog called for rain, and far away the sky lit up with a streak of silent lightning.
“She hates for me to talk of it, you know.”
I nodded again but Aunt Linda wasn’t looking at me. Just staring straight ahead. Into the dark. Quick, I looked that way, too. Checking.
For what?
There was nothing. Even the lightning bugs had gone to bed.
“Angela really hates for me to point to the things that aren’t working. Or the fact that Daddy is gone and that he’s been gone as long as you’ve been alive. She doesn’t get it that we have to move on.” Aunt Linda’s voice was soft, like she was convincing herself, not just me. “She’s not right. But you can’t tell people that, can you?”
I shook my head. I mean, I’d known for years Momma was not quite right. And that she’d been getting worse, little by little. Someone slipping over a steep ledge in slow motion.
“This whole thing,” Aunt Linda waved a hand around like the yard had something to do with Momma’s sadness, “this whole thing is dragging me down, too.” From somewhere came the smell of pine and water. I heard a sandpiper cry out. “And Lacey, it’s dragging you down. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
Boy, the truth of that was a shovel to the head. All this time I felt like I was stuck in an ice cube. That no one saw me in all the trouble. But Aunt Linda had.
Her knowing this made me wild with worry at her going. Panic ran up my spine. Made me speak.
“Please don’t go,” I had said. And I reached in the car and touched her warm shoulder. Felt the shimmer of her shirt beneath my fingers. “Please. I’ll beg her. I’ll help with her more. I’ll do better.”
Aunt Linda’s tears fell then. Green-colored light reflected in the wet path on my aunt’s face.
“She won’t let me stay. And she won’t let me take you, Lacey,” Aunt Linda said. She put the car in gear then, and took off, driving slow. I walked beside her. Fear worse than anything the thought Granddaddy might have caused took hold of me tight. “I begged her, Lacey. I told her that I would care for you. I’ve looked for two-bedroom places. I have.”
Momma’s voice cut through the night—a scream that sent the hair on the back of my neck straight up. “I’ve called the police. I’ve called the police and they’re on their way.”
“Momma,” I said. I was so sad I thought I might follow my mother to the edge of the cliff where she seemed to be in her head. “Momma, please!”
“Get inside now, Lacey!”
“I’ve looked for a place for the both of us,” Aunt Linda said. She peeked
