WEEK 15

It’s kind of soothing after a while,
the beep beep beeping.
The machines measuring Levi’s life.
A nonstop rhythm.
Even when he’s not moving
and has all those wires on him
and all that medicine pumping into him,
we hear beep beep beeping.
Heartbeats turned into heartbeeps.
So we always know
he’s still alive.

José’s mom and James and Mom are talking
in the hallway.
James looks pale.
He really hates hospitals.
I almost feel bad for him.
Almost.
I am doing homework while they talk
which of course means
listening to everything they say
I hear
grades
responsibility
I know
good kid
judge’s approval
and other stuff.
José’s mom wants me to start sleeping at their house.
Not permanent,
but while Levi is in the hospital.
Also, she wants me there for dinners.
I want to do it.
But I don’t want to do it.
What will Mom do without me?
Who will remind her to eat?

I am in José’s family’s giant van.
Heading to see Mrs. B.
It is just as crazy as the house.
Soccer bag, dance bag, music stand, books.
Yelling, talking, laughing, shoving.
Every corner of the van
has something or someone stuffed into it.
José’s mom is singing loud and proud
to some song with a thumping beat.
Everyone is acting like her voice is a weapon
killing them, ears first.
She is laughing and singing,
the van driving through a storm.
I just hold on tight,
fingers gripping my seat belt.
It’s like the world is swallowing me
one laugh at a time.
Isa cracks José on the head with a book.
Can I laugh while Levi is so sick?
Can I be happy with Mom so scared?
The rain streaks across the windows.
We are almost there, mijo.
José’s mom runs her fingers through her hair
while the van is stopped at a red light.
She turns back to smile at me.
Almost there.

Be creative.
The teachers at school say that all the time.
Having trouble solving a problem?
Be creative.
Having trouble writing an essay?
Be creative.
Having trouble keeping your brother alive?
Be creative.
Well, they don’t say that last one.
It’s true, though, you know.
I bet if the doctors were more creative
Levi would get better.
All the way better.
Mom says they’re doing their best.
She says we’re on Levi time, just like always.
But you know what?
That doesn’t mean we can’t be creative.
Having trouble listening to your mom?
Be creative.

Subglottic stenosis.
Bronchiectasis.
Failure to Thrive.
I copied those words down from Levi’s chart.
I don’t know how to say most of them,
or even what they mean.
Well, I can kind of guess at the last one,
but it doesn’t seem like a sickness.
It seems like a judgment.
I’m going to look them up,
because I don’t believe,
not for one second,
that Levi has to live like this every day.
There has to be something we can do.
Someone we can call.

I need a computer.
There’s only one at José’s house
and someone is always on it.
The one at my house hasn’t had the Internet
in months and months.
School has a ton.
But I have no free time to use them.
What do you think, Mrs. B?
Can I use your computer?
I know the plants won’t mind.
Will you?