chapter 30

“Sadie?”

“Yes?”

“Can you come here for a minute, please?”

“OK, just a second.”

“No, right now! It will be too late in a second. We’ll miss the train.”

“The train! I didn’t know we were going on a trip!” I run toward her, excited at the promise of an adventure. She’s standing down the street from me, just kind of waiting in the middle of the road.

“Where are we going?” I ask as I try to make my pudgy little legs move me faster down the street so I don’t upset her by making us late. I don’t like to upset her.

“Oh, we aren’t going anywhere. You’re going alone.”

I catch up to her and she grabs me. She isn’t standing in the street at all but on the track the train goes on. It’s dark out, which I hadn’t noticed before, and it feels cold. I’m shivering, even though she’s holding me tightly.

“What do you mean? Where am I going alone?” I feel my stomach start to hurt. I hope I don’t throw up on her because that would probably upset her. I tell my stomach to behave itself.

“You’ll see,” she says, still holding me. I can hear a loud noise coming from far down the tracks. There’s a tiny light that’s getting bigger and bigger as the train comes closer to us. My stomach is hurting more and more and I start to wiggle around, trying to get her to let go.

“Stop moving. You are upsetting me!” She yells, trying to out shout the train. It’s so loud I can barely hear her. I stop moving because I don’t want to upset her and because she is holding me so tightly it hurts. The train is still coming.

“We have to move!” I shout in her ear, but my baby voice disappears into the train whistle.

“Bye, baby.” She whispers it, but I can still hear her. The train is almost on top of us. She sets me down and steps back. She stands there, holding my brother’s hand as they both watch me crying by myself on the tracks.

My eyes fly open just before the train flattens my snotty little face into a messed up pancake. I read somewhere that if you die in a dream you’re dead. How could they know that? Who could have told them?

Anyway, seeing as my eyes beat the train, I guess I’m still alive. Not so sure if that’s a good thing or not any more.

“Hi Sadie.”

“Cecilia.” Now I’m even less sure. I guess she’s here to tell me where to go. Literally.

“How are you feeling?”

Now there’s an intelligent question. Last time I talked to Cecilia I found out that my mother decided she likes sons better than daughters. Since then I totally screwed up my already unbelievably screwed up life. Now I’m lying in a hospital bed with a sumo wrestler sitting on my head and bruises the size of frying pans all over my chest. I went out without permission to party with people without brains who tried to kill me by getting us attacked by an angry train. They’re all lying in hospital beds, too, probably with worse injuries than mine, which should make me feel bad, but it really doesn’t. I know that makes me sound like an ice cube, but I barely know any of them, and I’m not going to be wasting any tears over their problems. They all made the choice to screw up just like I did. So, how am I feeling? I have no idea how I’m feeling. I would prefer not to feel anything at all, if it’s all the same to anyone.

“Just great.” I don’t look at her. I stare at the ceiling. It’s very white. Everything here is white, like I’m in a medical snowstorm. Hospitals should try using a little color. Might make people feel better. I would paint this room black with grey stripes. Rhiannon would go more for neon pink and bright purple with little red hearts. Not that she’s likely to do anything stupid enough to land herself in a place like this.

“That’s good,” she answers. She’s either ignoring my sarcasm or is too dense to notice. “The doctor says you’re doing well, and we can check you out this morning.”

“Check me out? The doctor was already in checking me.”

“No, Sadie. I mean we can take you out of the hospital. The others have to stay in longer. I don’t know how long. But you’re good to go.”

I don’t know why she’s talking about the others. I didn’t ask about them. I really don’t want to know. I’m good to go? Glad she thinks so. I don’t feel good to go anywhere or to do anything. I feel lousy. I don’t want to go. I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t want to stay, either. I just want to close my eyes and disappear once and for all so I don’t have to deal any more. I’m tired.

“Sadie, did you hear me? You’ve been cleared to go home. I’m going to drop you off on my way to the office.”

Maybe she can drop me off a cliff.

“Earth to Sadie. Are you in there? Maybe I should get a doctor.”

I turn to look at her, but I still can’t seem to find a way to ask her the question that is pinning me down to the bed. I just look at her for a second and then totally mortify myself by starting to cry. I can feel the tears sliding down my cheeks. They’re probably red with rust because I haven’t used my tear ducts in so long. My nose starts to run, too, and I sniff pathetically. People on TV always look so dramatic and beautiful when they cry. They never have snot dripping off their chin.

“Oh, honey. It’s going to be OK!” Cecilia grabs me a Kleenex and hands it to me. She sits on the edge of the bed and kind of pats me on the back. I must look unbelievably pathetic for her to do that. She knows how I feel about being touched. And I’m pretty sure she never called me honey before.

I try to stop the mess coming out of my face, but I can’t seem to do it. It’s like all these tears were stored away in a safe, and they built up until they blew the lock. I want to suck them back in and dry my eyes, but the accident must have added to my already damaged brain because now I can’t control my head.

The waterworks keep on going for what seems like forever. By the time they finally stop, the sumo wrestler is pounding both fists into my brain and my eyes hurt. I want to sleep.

“I guess you needed a good cry,” Cecilia says, handing me another tissue. She calls that a good cry. What would a bad cry look like then?

“Whatever.”

“Oh, so you can still talk. I was starting to worry.” She sort of smiles at me. I don’t smile back. Pretty sure all that crying damaged any smile muscles I might have left, not that I feel like smiling at her anyway.

“So, what now?” It’s as close as I can come to asking. Even that sticks in my throat, so it comes out sounding like I’m trying to grind up a mouthful of gravel.

“We check with the nurse one more time and make sure everything’s in order, and then we get you dressed and ready to go.”

She just isn’t going to make this easy for me. I take a deep breath, trying to find the question buried in the mess I’ve made of my life.

“Where?” It comes out louder than I expected, like I’m shouting it in her face. She looks a little startled and confused at the same time. I’d apologize for yelling, except that I’m not sorry.

“Where? You mean where are you going?” Is she trying to make me lose it completely, or is she just plain stupid?

“Yeah.” I’m loud again. I’m not sorry again.

“Sadie. You’re going back to the Kerrys’. I didn’t realize that you didn’t understand that. Is there a problem? Do you not want to go?” She still looks confused, or maybe that’s the way she’s always looked. Cow eyes all clouded up with doubt.

Do I not want to go? That’s not the question here, is it? Where I want to go has never been the question. The question has always been, do they want me to come? And the answer has usually been a loud NO in capital letters. That much I can spell.

“Do they know?”

“Do they know what?” Come on! An actual cow would be more help here.

“That I’m coming! Do they know that I am coming back into their house? Did you warn them?”

“Warn them that you’re coming back? Well, I let them know it would be sometime today, but I didn’t give them the precise time.” I am going to kick her all the way back to the farm. She’s deliberately making this harder.

“Do they know they don’t have to take me? That I’m returnable?” Can I make it any clearer?

Cecilia looks at me for a moment, and kind of sighs and shakes her head.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that’s what you were asking about. I must be preoccupied today!” Or just stupid.

“You didn’t answer.”

“Yes, they know. I told you they don’t ‘return’ kids once they take them in unless they have to. They don’t have to send you off anywhere, and they don’t want to.”

“Are you sure?” This makes no sense. The pattern is all messed up and everything’s out of alignment. I know how it works. Go to a placement. Get used to it. Try to fit in even when you don’t. Try to relax and pretend it’s going to last a while. Totally screw it all up and start all over again.

“I’m sure. I just got off the phone with Lily. Ms. Kerry, I mean.”

“I know who Lily is.”

“OK. Well, Lily called me to ask when you would be ready and asked if I could pick you up because Rhiannon’s at school and Brad’s at work, so the little ones would need a sitter if she had to come for you.”

“I don’t understand.” Maybe I’m not ready to go home. Maybe my head isn’t working at all any more and I can’t understand English. Or any other language.

“You’re going home, Sadie.”

“Home? Back to the Kerrys’?”

“Yes. And once you’re settled a little, I think we need to talk more about your family. I know you have things to sort out. You can also talk to Ms. Kerry about it if you want to. She’s a pretty good listener from what I understand.”

“But I messed up.” I don’t care about my imaginary family and I don’t need to talk. I just need to understand why the Kerry family still wants me back.

“Oh yeah, you definitely messed up. Even though you had an extremely valid reason to feel upset, you still made some really bad choices and paid a pretty scary price. I’m sure the Kerrys will have some words for you and some clear rules.”

“But they want me to come back.” I can’t get past that one fact.

“They do. But if we keep talking about it instead of doing it, you might end up stuck in here another night. Can you get yourself dressed?”

“Yes!” I pull the blanket up around my neck as if I think she’s going to strip me down and dress me up like a doll. She laughs at me and gets up.

“OK, relax. I’ll wait out in the hall and you get yourself organized. Then we’ll head home, OK?”

Home. She keeps saying that. It’s not really true. It’s not really my home. It’s Rhiannon’s home and her parents’ home and even Adam’s and Chandra’s and the superbrats’.

I’m just a visitor.

Right?