Up High in the Trees (31 page)

At school, I have to take a break. I go to the girls' bathroom because the boys don't flush, so their bathroom smells bad. If you don't hold your breath in there then the smell gets stuck in the back of your throat.

I look around to make sure nobody's watching. Then I listen and I don't hear any sounds inside so I pull open the door and I can see the bathroom's empty. I run to the stall all the way at the back and lock myself in. It's echoey quiet. What I do is stand up on the toilet so my feet don't show, take off my glasses, and push my forehead against the cold tile wall. In the girls' bathroom, the tiles are pink and yellow. My eyes are closed so I can't see the pink and yellow, but I know the colors are there.

I think of a song. I think of the song “Crimson and Clover” and I make the words come into my head so I can hear them. Then I stop pushing my forehead against the tile and I feel light inside, like I am the song. I am just the song.

I have my pencil in my hand. I take a folded-up piece of paper out of my pocket and hold it against the wall. I write, My head is a camera.

Dear Ms. Lambert,

If I make my head like a camera, then I can see Mother. I see the picture of her that I lost. I know time is going, but in my head, I can make time stop still.

Mother felt time going away from her. I know how Mother walked in circles around the white house. She walked forward for two hours and then backward for two hours. Then forward again and then backward. The backward circles were to erase the forward circles. She wanted to start over.

I feel time like it's growing and growing bigger, like there is so much time and the time keeps pulling me farther away from Mother. But, if my head is a camera, I can make Mother stay. I can make her hold still. And then it is okay for me to be here with Dad and Cass and Leo. I can be here in all of this time.

Bye, Sebby

I don't want to go outside for morning recess.

Katya says, Are you coming?

No, I tell her, you go.

I sit at my desk and eat my Cheerios. Ms. Lambert's at the front of the room, looking at the chalkboard. She erases the part of the morning schedule that we've already done. Then she comes over. She stands in front of me and puts her hands on my desk. I look at her hands. Her fingernails are a little bit long and not painted any color.

She asks, Did you remember to bring your camera?

I take it out of my backpack and show it to her.

Great, says Ms. Lambert.

I ask her can I take a picture of her face.

Sure, she says. She stands there in front of me with her hands on my desk and smiles a nice, small smile for the picture.

Ms. Lambert says, I think you will be okay here, Sebby. Do you think so?

I think so, I tell her.

I feel very lucky that you've told me so many things in your letters, she says and brushes back my hair with her fingers.

I look at her gold necklace that has a tiny horseshoe on it.

I have something to tell everyone, she says, but I wanted to tell you first.

What is it? I ask.

I'm pregnant, says Ms. Lambert, I'm going to have a baby in the spring. She takes her black and white Chap Stick out of her pocket and puts it on her lips.

I look at her stomach. I can't see it, I tell her.

She laughs. No, she says, not yet, but look. She walks over to her desk and brings back a shadowy black-and-white picture.

That's the baby, she says and points.

It looks like a strawberry, I tell her.

She smiles and nods.

Then Katya comes in early from recess. She says, I'm very boring.

You mean you're very bored? Ms. Lambert asks.

Katya nods and comes over to my desk.

That's your camera? she asks.

Yes, I say.

I let her pick it up and look at it.

Do you want a picture of me now? she asks.

Okay, I say, but I don't like you to act like I'm your baby.

I'm sorry, Katya tells me.

This time the lady wearing hospital clothes takes us to a yellow room. She holds the door open for us to go in. Cass goes first and then Leo and I.

Dad's sitting in a rocking chair next to a yellow couch. He puts his hand up to wave.

I'm coming home, Dad says, on the twenty-second. He's rocking slow in his chair.

Oh my God, says Cass and she runs over to hug him.

I count the days in my head.

Five days, I say.

I guess so, he says, and nods. Five days.

Dad, Cass says, this is great. Her voice is happy and loud.

I'm sure Christmas will be awesome, says Leo. He doesn't look at Dad or anyone.

Don't be an asshole, Cass tells him.

Dad puts up his hands. He doesn't have the bandage on anymore.

It's okay, Dad says.

Cass goes and sits on the couch. I sit next to her, but Leo keeps standing by the door.

I'm sorry, Dad says, about all of this.

Dad, says Cass, but then her voice stops and it's quiet.

Do you still smell good? I ask Dad.

Cass and Dad both laugh.

They keep me very clean here, he says.

I get up and go to him. I sit on his lap and put my head on his shoulder. I can smell the clean smell on his neck.

Why do you have this on? Dad asks and pulls on my backpack.

He won't take it off, Cass says. He sleeps with it.

My album's inside, I tell him, all my pictures.

Oh, Dad says. His breath smells minty.

But he won't show anybody, Cass tells him.

Hmmm, Dad says and that makes warm air come out of his nose.

I touch the skin there above his lip. My finger fits between the bumps of skin that go down from his nose to his mouth. Dad pulls my finger away from his face. Then he holds my hand and squeezes it tight.

On the phone, Jackson says he's coming to visit for Christmas. His Mom and Shelly and Baby Chester are coming, too. I listen and when Jackson stops talking, I hand the phone back to Cass for her to hang up.

Now what are we going to do for dinner? Cass asks me. She goes over and opens the refrigerator. It hums and breathes out cold air. Cass makes a clicking sound with her tongue while she looks.

Did the doctor take a picture of the baby inside Mother's stomach? I ask.

What? says Cass. She looks at me and pushes the refrigerator closed with her foot.

I want to see the picture of Sara Rose and put it in my album, I tell her.

Sebby, Cass says, why? Why would you want that? She was never born, Cass says in an angry voice. We never even knew her.

I want to know her picture, I say.

She walks over to me. I don't understand, she says. Her voice is quiet now.

I want to see the picture, I tell her again.

Stop, Cass says. She steps closer. Her face is too close to my face. I look down, away from her eyes.

Look at me, Cass says. Her voice is loud again and she shakes my shoulders. I can't move. I can't make my eyes look at her.

What's wrong with you? she asks. Why don't you think about other people?

Cass lets go of me and I step backward. She sits down and looks out the window.

You don't think, Cass says to the window. The window is dark, dark blue because it's almost night.

I don't understand, says Cass. She talks to the window like I'm not here anymore.

Our tree in the front yard is white now and thicker with snow. I sit down on the big rock in the dead garden that used to be Mother's and I wait. I'm waiting for a cab to bring Dad home.

Cass opens the front door and says, Sebby? She sees me sitting on the big rock. It's too cold to sit outside, she says and then she comes out and stands next to me.

Leo's not waiting for Dad to come home. He's upstairs in his room reading a book called
The Origin of Species
by Charles Darwin. Leo told me this book is about how we evolved from a tiny speck of life.

I asked him, What's a tiny speck of life?

Like an amoeba, a one-celled organism, he said. Life started in the water and then slowly, slowly made its way onto land. He showed me a picture of a turtle crawling out of the ocean and onto a beach. Leo said, Dad is the turtle. I keep thinking about Dad being a turtle.