Why,
Liz said to me,
when I came home
one morning
from a sleepover.
Why have you been
gone so long?
What?
I said
and threw
my backpack on my
bed, turning to
Liz.
Why?
Liz was angry,
really angry.
I was at Mari’s,
I said.
It was a sleepover.
tears come into her
eyes.
She walked up close to me.
So close I could
see where her bottom teeth
overlapped
just a bit.
Her voice was a fat whisper.
You,
she said, pointing
right in my face,
you
are
always
gone.
For the rest of the day,
no matter how hard
I tried to get her to,
Lizzie
wouldn’t speak to me.
when the sun
tucked itself in
Lizzie
started to whimper
then
cry.
Shut up!
Momma hollered.
Shut up
shut up
shut up!
Momma slammed the door
between our room
and hers. I
heard the lock
click.
Lizzie’s voice
grew
weary
and I moved from my
to where she lay
curled in a lump.
Let me under
the covers
with you,
I said.
Let me.
Her crying scared me.
Scared me
something awful.
I’m sorry,
Liz
said in her
weeping,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry
to be mean to
you, Hope.
You’re not mean,
Liz,
I said.
she said.
You should stay gone
long as you can.
I climbed into
bed with
my sister
tickled her back
and her arms
and her face
trying to calm her
sobs.