You May Already Be a Winner

Morning.

Mom yelling, “Girls, it’s almost time to go.”

I sat up, my head pounding.

Berkeley climbed out of bed, her hair messy and her eyes hollow. She hadn’t slept so well, you could tell. She stood by my bed and whispered, “Am I going with you again?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

Mom came in. “What in the world? You two get dressed. We’re leaving in five minutes!”

Berkeley’s eyes fell.

“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered. Maybe she found a day care. I’m sure she’d found a day care. “I promise.”

She nodded.

We got dressed.

We held hands.

We went to the front room.

At the table she pulled out bowls. Cheerios. Some bananas. She’d bought bananas. She was humming.

“How was yesterday,” Mom asked.

I looked at Berk. She looked at me. “It was okay,” I said.

“Good!” Mom said. Her voice was cheery and different. “Thank you so much, Sissy,” she said to me.

A pit grew in my stomach.

We ate.

Mom started singing and then she said, “Oh! I almost forgot!”

She opened the fridge. “I got you girls something.” She pulled out two trays. “Lunchables! With Capri Suns!”

I swallowed. Those things were expensive. We never got them. I wondered if the price of one Lunchable would pay for a day of day care.

So I took Berk to school another day. Tuesday.

And I didn’t talk to anyone the whole day. I tried to be invisible.

We didn’t get caught but we got close a few times. Like when a gym teacher or maybe just a man wearing short shorts and a whistle around his neck, when he saw me come out of the supply closet and he said, “What were you doing in there?”

At first I said nothing because I was having a heart attack. But then I said, “I got lost.”

And he said, “You got lost?”

And then I said, “I had a contagious illness so I didn’t get to come to school for a few months and now that I’m back I get confused.”

He stared at me.

“What kind of illness?”

And I said, “It’s private.”

And he said, “It’s private?”

And I said, “It’s illegal to tell you because of my healthcare rights.”

And he said,

And I said,

And he said,

And I said,

And he said, “Get to class.”

And I said, “Okay.”

Also, I didn’t meet Bart for lunch but I did eat Lunchables in the closet and talk about the Shanghai Circus.

I took her to school Wednesday. Mom made us do Wednesday.

My stomach was in knots the whole fat day. I said fifty-six prayers that no one would find her and we made it.

Mom worked late again.

Me and Berk watched the the Big Apple Circus and I made us frozen pizza.

Before bed I did twenty-two contests, including a chance to win a hundred boxes of Totino’s frozen pizzas even though I had no idea where we’d put them if we won.

I took her to school Thursday. This time I tried to be more prepared.

I made Berkeley keep the light out in the closet but I brought her a headlamp we found at the KOA once and also I had a few old candy bars from Halloween and I told her that if she could not go to the bathroom the whole day, she could have them and she did it!

I looked for Bart in the halls but not really.

I didn’t see him.

At home, we watched Circus Oz of Australia and we ate macaroni and cheese with peas in it for energy.

Delilah came by and said, “Where’s your mom?”

And I said, “I don’t know.”

And she said, “School still going okay?”

And I said, “Fine.”

She looked at Berk who was munching on a doughnut Delilah’d brought us. “How’s the new day care.”

She stopped munching. Looked at me. Please. Please. Please.

“Fine,” she said. Picked up another doughnut. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

“Well, I miss you ladies. Melody was saying she missed you all, too. Why don’t you come over after school tomorrow and watch some shows?”

They were talking about us? She and Melody. I wondered if other people in the neighborhood were, too. I wondered if that was good or bad. Should I tell her? Should I tell Melody? Would they help us or would they think bad of Mom?

I said, “Maybe we can come watch later,” and Berk said, “Do you want to be in our circus?”

I said, “Berk. Delilah doesn’t want to be in the circus.”

But Delilah, she said, “Sure I do.” Just like that. Without asking what it was or what that meant or where it would be or what the heck Berk was talking about.

Sure.

And then she had to go because The Real Housewives of Orange County was on.

Mom was late again.

I took Berk to school Friday.

Headlamp. Soft Batch cookies instead of candy and I had us both wear all black.

This time I did see Bart but not on purpose.

I was passing the gym on my way up to the closet after English and the door was propped open.

I looked in and Bart was standing against wall. A gym teacher, the same one I’d seen, with the shorts and the whistle was talking to him. Loud. He was saying, “You can’t keep doing this and expect to pass.”

Bart nodded. The man’s voice was so, so mean.

“You know you’re on thin ice.”

Bart started fiddling with his watch.

“Hey,” the guy said. Bart kept fiddling. “HEY!”

Bart looked at him. My hands started to sweat just watching him. How big the guy was and how little Bart looked. He’d never seemed little to me before.

“Look at me when I’m talking. Look. At. Me. You come to class. You get here on time. You get changed. You participate. I don’t care about what your mom or anyone else says. You’re twelve. Act like it.”

Bart nodded. Mumbled something. Then he did this, Bart turned, he turned and looked right at me and as he did it, so did the coach.

I froze.

“Can I help you?” the man said.

I . . .

“Can. I. Help. You.” His voice echoed through the gym and out the door and into my bones.

So then I ran.

I ran.

And when I got to the supply closet I burst in, my lungs burning and my heart pounding and Berk said, “What’s wrong? Are we caught?”

That afternoon on the walk home I tried to decide if I should find Bart. Maybe he needed me as much as I needed him even though I didn’t really need him but maybe I did.

I also tried to figure out if that coach recognized me and now I had to be extra careful in the halls and how I’d messed up. I shouldn’t have stayed there to listen. I should have gone fast. Quiet. Gotten out of there. Straight to Berk.

Take care of your sister.

I felt sick to my stomach.

Sick for Berk.

Sick for me.

Sick for Bart who got yelled at by a dumb-bum coach.

Sick for Mom because she was doing this. Why was she doing this?

Sick for Dad because he didn’t know how bad things were.

When we got home, Berk played with her friends and I lay on the couch, my belly aching.

Carlene knocked on the door. I saw her and I didn’t move.

“Is Olivia home?” she asked Berk.

I don’t know what Berk said but Carlene went away and I was glad even though it was Carlene and maybe she was going to help me or give me details on Monster Jam.

I wanted everyone to go away.

“What’s for dinner?” Berk asked when she finally came in from playing.

I pointed at the cereal on the table.

After she ate, my stomach got worse and my head started to hurt too and, “Can we watch a circus?” she asked.

“Yeah. We can.” I turned it on.

Cirque Mana of France.

Trapeze.

My head pounding.

My stomach aching.

Trapeze.

Swinging.

And swinging.

Swinging.

And Berk.

Berk lay on her Barbie blanket with her dolls all around her. She always watched TV like this.

I watched Berk watch. The freckles on her cheeks. Her lips and her perfect little nose. Her mouth opening and closing in anticipation of every move, every jump, every catch. Clapping after each act.

Before I knew it, I was clapping, too. The pain starting to go away a little.

Then, right in the middle of the lions, Mom got home.

Banged through the door.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” I said.

She looked tired again. And in the office cleaning work shirt.

“Why are you working late?” I asked.

She shrugged, put her keys on the table. “I’m saving for something.”

My stomach clenched again. She was saving for something?

She walked over. Sat on the floor with Berk. Pulled her onto her lap.

After a few minutes she said, “Why are we watching this?” Mom said.

“Because we’re having a neighborhood circus and we have to get ideas,” Berk said.

Mom looked at me. “A neighborhood circus? Who is?”

Now Berk looked at me but I didn’t look at either of them. I closed my eyes instead. The headache was back.

“We are. They asked us to do a circus at the HOA meeting. Tell her, Liv,” Berk said.

I rubbed my forehead.

“They asked you to do what? What are you talking about?”

I stood up.

“Olivia.”

I felt dizzy.

“Olivia!”

I walked down the hall.

“Olivia! Get back here.”

I closed my bedroom door.

I put all the blankets and clothes and stuffed animals and bags and everything I could find on the bed and then I crawled under it.