Chapter 10

 

SAM AND HENRY weren’t home when we pulled up, so I went straight to my room to find my phone. I wasn’t one of those kids who was always connected to their phone. There was really no reason for it since the only people that ever called or texted me were my mom, my sister, and occasionally my brother. And besides that it was a thousand-year-old flip phone, but Pru had said she would text me when she got out—Dylan too—and so I was more than eager to get my hands on my phone.

I hated that I was excited by the possibility of there being a text from Pru or Dylan, but I was. I was also pretty sure I would never hear from either of them again. I figured it would be like the kids at camp promising to keep in touch thing. I’d actually never been to camp. My mom and sister needed me around to watch Henry while they worked or fell in love or went crazy, so summer camp wasn’t actually a part of my childhood. That was fine with me though because just the thought of going away to camp gave me anxiety even now that I was too old for it. But still I knew the kids at camp narrative well. Everyone promised to stay in touch, but nobody did. It was just how it worked. The mental ward was like the ultimate summer camp.

I dug around through the piles of clothes on my floor and stacks of crap on my dresser, feeling frantic. I finally found my phone in the pocket of one of my hoodies. Of course it was dead. I dug the charger out of my desk, plugged it in, and then flopped down on my bed to wait for it to charge enough to turn on.

My room was a disaster, but my sheets and blankets were clean. Mom must have washed everything. She had put the drawers back and picked up the nightstand and cleaned up the catastrophe that I created when I went nuts, but my everyday mess remained the same. If I know my mom, she left the mess so that I could see that she hadn’t violated my trust by going through my room and I appreciated that, but still it might have been nice to come home to a room that didn’t look like a garbage dump.

I was glad that Gray’s blanket and pillow were safely packed away in garbage bags in my closet. I’m not sure what I would have done if Mom had washed them. I needed to keep Gray’s smell alive as long as possible. Being back in my room meant being back in reality and it felt like the walls were closing in on me. I tried to take deep breaths, but mostly what I wanted was to grab a razor blade and dig it into my arm. I was trying hard not to cut though, for the kid.

As much as I hated the ward, there was something safe about it. Being locked away made it easy to pretend that my real life didn’t exist. It made it easy to not face the reality of my dead boy/girlfriend, the baby growing inside of me that I might give away, and my hopeless life. And I had friends there. For the first time in my life I actually had friends. What if I never heard from Pru or Dylan again? The panic continued to grow. Deep breaths, I told myself, deep breaths. I couldn’t believe I missed that place.

Just then the phone buzzed as the charge took hold. It startled me. I jumped up, flipped it open, and held the button until it turned on. I wonder if Pru would make fun of me for my ancient phone. The little mailbox had a tiny number six. I had six text messages. My stomach lurched with hope. I hit the button on the keypad and saw that they were all from the same number, a number that wasn’t programmed in my phone.

I opened the first one, Hey Dude, guess who? Then, Are you out? Then, Banjooooooo!!!!! Where are yooooouuuuu? Did you fall in love with Doctor Jackass and run away with him? Are you never coming home? : ). Then, Seriously Dude, text me when you get home. Then, Or call me. And finally, I miss you.

I smiled as I reread them. And then reread them again. She missed me and knowing she missed me made me have all sorts of feelings. Reading her texts made me want to hug myself and smile. I wondered for a minute if I was falling in love with Pru and then I felt ashamed of myself for thinking that. In some weird way I felt like I was cheating on Gray.

Even if I did like Pru and even if it wasn’t cheating on Gray, I couldn’t imagine Pru liking someone like me in that way, not to mention the fact that I was going to have a kid. I tried to push the thought of me and Pru from my mind and mostly I did, but a very small part of me kept smiling way down deep inside.

I fell back on my bed, the only uncluttered part of my room, and programmed Pru’s number into my phone. I needed a minute to think about my reply. That was a mistake. I sat there messing around with my phone and suddenly Gray’s number came up. My stomach turned inside out. What an odd and terrible feeling it was to see their number there, but then I imagined it would be even worse to not see that number there.

I hit send. It rang. What the hell was I doing this for? Two rings and then, you have reached a number that has been disconnected. Please check the number and dial again. I hit end and then I did something that I knew was an even bigger mistake, but I couldn’t help myself. I opened up my text messages and scrolled down until I found Gray’s name. I ran my thumb over the button, tempting myself to open the messages. I gave into the temptation. It was one of their ridiculous haikus. The last text they ever sent me.

 

brewing strong coffee

queer platitudes and clichés

sodden dog feet

 

In other words, get over here please.

 

I stared at their words and then closed my phone. I sank into a feeling of emotional numbness, which scared me a little bit, but then again numb was a whole lot easier than any of the other emotions that I could think of.

I decided I would text Pru later.

I came out of my room to find Mom on the phone pacing around like she always did when she was on the phone. That woman never sat still, so when she was on the phone she was usually also watering the plants or wiping down the counters or chopping vegetables or just walking in circles. Today she was walking in circles holding the phone in one hand and waving her other hand around the way she did when she talked.

She tapped her chest and said, “It just broke my heart. You don’t even know. Broke my heart wide open. I’m so grateful you’re willing to help us Anna. So grateful . . .”

She looked up and saw me. “Oh, Banjo, honey, I want to talk to you,” and then back to the phone, “Anna, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you.”

Mom stuffed her phone into the back pocket of her baggy 501s, and opened her arms in a way that invited me in for a hug. I came over to her, but I didn’t lean in for a hug. Instead I stood there just out of her reach, frozen. She stepped forward and pulled me to her. She held me and ran her hands over my back. I collapsed into her and buried my face in her neck, wrapping my arms around her tiny body.

She smelled like her lemongrass and mint soap, but also of sweat and outside. She smelled like Mom. She held me for a long time before she pulled back, put her hands on my shoulders, and looked at me. “Honey, I made you an appointment with that counselor I told you about. She’s wonderful but if you don’t like her we’ll find you another,” she said quickly before I could object.

“I think the sooner you see someone the better. We need to keep Doctor Jack off our backs. That man scares me.” She paused. “And it’ll be good for you to have someone to talk to. Anna’s an old friend of mine. She’s lovely; very kind and very laid back. She agreed to see you tomorrow, okay, sweetie?”

“That’s fine. Mom? Would it be okay . . . I mean, I met some kids at the hospital.” I felt nervous. “They’re really nice and one of them said she may want to hang out. Could I maybe hang out after the appointment or sometime this week? She lives in Edmonds, so I could catch the bus if you can’t drive me.”

Mom smiled and smoothed my hair. “Of course, I’ll take you. Or you can invite her here if you’d like. Have her over for dinner. I’ll make soup and I promise not to bug you.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll see what she has in mind.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about having Pru over to my house. What if my family freaked her out? Or what if our falling down house grossed her out? Our house wasn’t exactly fancy. After Mom left my dad we bounced around for a few years from one crappy duplex and falling down rental to another and then one day Mom stumbled across this house and suddenly she was a home owner. She could actually afford this place and there was a reason for that.

Our house is a mold and dry rot factory. The bathroom floor literally sank in when you stepped on it. The wood floors were worn smooth except for the places where they weren’t and then you had to watch out for splinters. Everything in this place sagged and bagged and emitted vague and strange smells. Although to be fair, Mom had improved it a lot, but definitely not enough. Mom’s saying was, better to own a dump than rent a palace. I wasn’t so sure I believed that. Pru lived in a fancy town near us called Edmonds in a house overlooking the water. It was obvious that her parents had money. We definitely did not have money.

“I bought you some prenatal vitamins. They’re in on the counter. Why don’t you go take one now so you don’t forget?”

“I will after I eat. I promise.” And I meant it. Even though half the time I either didn’t want the kid or was terrified of the kid, I did want her to be healthy and okay. And the half of the time when I did want the kid, I really wanted the kid. I was starting to think that maybe I even really loved the kid. Sometimes it was hard to tell with all the other emotions stacked so thick, but it did feel like down below all the fear and grief and sadness that there was a deep pool of love. And I wondered if loving her so much meant I should give her to some normal family with money.

Just then the front door burst open and Henry rushed in with Sam close behind. Henry charged me, wrapping his little twig arms around me. “Banjo’s home. Banjo’s home. She’s home!” I hugged him back so hard I was afraid I might snap his skinny body in half.

“Hey, you little French fry, did you miss me?”

“Of course I missed you, you weirdo. I missed you so so so so much.”

“How much?”

“This much,” he yelled, holding his thumb and finger a half inch apart.

“Wha?”

“Okay, okay this much.” This time he held his hands about six inches apart.

I twisted my face up in a dramatic version of a pout.

“Okay, okay.” He sighed and he threw his arms wide. “I missed you this much times about six thousand four hundred and twelve. Happy now?”

“That’s better,” I said as I grabbed his head in both my hands and shook it.

Sam came up behind Henry. “Move aside, Punkster, my turn,” she said as she gently shoved him aside. “Welcome home, Banj. And congratulations. You’re now officially a Logan, knocked up and crazy. Good work, sis.”

“Sam!” Mom’s voice was filled with mock anger.

And then we all laughed and things felt okay, and like they might stay okay this time.

“Can I sleep with you tonight, Banj.” Henry looked up at me hopefully, shoving his dark curls out of his face. He had his deadbeat, missing-in-action father’s dark Greek features. The Greek genes swallowed our side’s pale German/Norwegian blood, leaving Henry olive skinned with chocolate brown eyes and nearly black hair. He looked nothing like us with our pale skin, yellow hair, and watery blue-eyes. The only physical feature he inherited from us were the untamable curls.

“Okay, but you have to sleep on the floor. It’s one thing to have you kick me all night, but no baby kicking allowed. Deal?”

“Deal,” he shrieked as he ran down to his room to gather up his blankets even though it wasn’t even noon yet. He stopped suddenly. “Wait, what do you mean no baby kicking?”

I looked from him to Mom.

“Hen, Banjo is going to have a baby,” Mom said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes welled with tears and his voice took on that high-pitched whine that happens when he was upset.

“Relax French Fry. It’s hard to explain, but I didn’t really tell anyone. Okay? Please don’t be mad or sad at me.”

He wiped at his eyes. “Okay.” He fell into me again and buried his face in my chest. “I was wondering why you were getting so fat.” He giggled.

“Oh whatevs. Go get your crap and take it to my room, my little house monkey minion.”

“When the baby’s born can it sleep in my room?”

I didn’t know how to answer. How did you explain adoption to an eight-year-old? And to an eight-year-old who had already been through so much. Maybe I should keep the kid for Henry. Give the kid away for Mom, keep the kid for Henry. I craved the razor blade.

“We’ll talk about it later. Go get your blankets, okay, Dude?”

“Banjo’s home,” he shouted as he ran down the hall.

“Is there anything to eat?” I asked. Mom had forgotten her offer to take me out for food.

“Of course. You must be starving. I’m sorry, baby. Let me make you something? Or should we order in? Let’s order in.”

Henry yelled, “Pizza!” from down the hall. He was already in my room, building himself a nest on my floor.

“No pizza,” Mom and Sam said in unison.

“Chinese?” Sam suggested.

“Chinese,” I said.

“No Chinese,” Henry yelled. “Pizza. Pizza. Pizza. Pizza.”

“Shut your pizza pie hole, little man. We’re having Chinese. You can have peanut butter and jelly,” Sam shouted back at him.

“Get me some egg rolls,” came his reply.

Sam pulled her phone out of her back pocket and started looking up Chinese places. She wandered into the kitchen to place the order.