erase me

MOON TAKES MOST of your hunger away, to make more space for itself. Candy bars and soda, a peanut butter sandwich and some water, a bag of sour cherry balls—most days just a little bit of something was enough. By the time I’d been living for a while in Donnersville, I was thin and hollowed out. My hair hanging yellowed and clumping down over my back. Each time I saw myself in the storefront windows, I looked away real quick—thinking that wasn’t me—that girl with the clothes hanging off her that way, her cheekbones jutting out of her face, her eyes sinking in . . . Stay beautiful, my mama had said. And behind her, M’lady kept saying, I’ll buy you something pretty. I’ll buy you something pretty.

So I stopped looking at my reflection. Without the store glass to look into, all that was left to look at was the walls I walked past. So many painted walls.

On the corner of Main and West Street, there was a painting of a dark-haired girl—her eyes like hard blue stones, her mouth soft, though—pale pink lips curling up. And inside the picture were the words

 

SERENITY LORETTA CHAPMAN

1990–2009

YOU’RE IN GOD’S HANDS, OUR LOVE.

MAMA & DADDY

 

And just below the Donnersville county line, there was a white building with a DANNY TACE, ATTORNEY AT LAW sign hanging. On the side of that building, you could see a small painting of a boy with glasses and short blond hair.

 

DANIEL TACE JR.

1979–2009

BLESSED BE. BLESSED BE.

 

Then, further in town, another sign, another girl—she was dark-haired too but gray-eyed and smiling.

 

LESLIE.

WE LOVE YOU. NOW AND ALWAYS.

APRIL 6, 1993—UNTIL THE SWEET HEREAFTER . . .

 

And always, at the bottom, far in the corner, were the initials MS.

Moses Sampson.