By Naomi Taylor
Did she jump out? Was it an accident? Why won’t he tell me? I ask him, “Where is she? Where is she right now?” He spreads his arms out and says, “Right here, she’s right here.” What does he mean? There’s nothing there, just his dirty shirt and leather jacket. The porch light from the trailer is yellow and dim; it just looks like a dirty t-shirt to me. He’s freaked out, really freaked out, he wants to tell me, but he wants me to know how freaked out he is, that its not his fault. He didn’t push her out of the van.
Okay, I know him, he wouldn’t do that. She would jump out, she was high as a kite when they left and pissed off. He always keeps his cool but she’s too much for any man. Finally he tells me, “it’s her blood, on my shirt, she jumped out of the van, the helicopter came and took her to Harborview.” He’s searching my eyes but he doesn’t want me to see that. Its okay, I’m not upset with you, I know it wasn’t your fault, I know how crazy she gets. “Is she alive?” I should be crying by now, I’m 14. I’m the oldest and little Angie and Josh are in the trailer, they know something’s wrong. Why did he bring me out here and make me the grown up about this? Doesn’t anybody get it? Call her parents, call her friends. I can’t do this; I can’t handle everything for her, for him. But I have to, everyone else is afraid and I am too but I never show it. It feels kind of good to be a grown up already. I feel like I have some power and control that other girls my age don’t have.
He’s looking at me for the answers. “Can you drive us there? To the hospital?” Yes, he can handle that.
It takes forever to get to Seattle, we live 50 miles south. Luckily it’s very late so there’s no one on the roads. Josh is crying, he’s only 7, he wants his mom. Angie’s 11, but she’s tough, she can handle it. He said he didn’t know if she was alive, he thinks when they got her in the helicopter she was dead.
At the hospital she’s in ICU, but she’s alive. Oh thank God. I can breathe again. Her friends are there too, good friends, they’ll take care of us kids.
After an hour or so we can see her thru the window. They shaved her head, she looks so tiny. She’s lost so much weight since she got together with him. It’s the drugs.
I can’t ask him if he pushed her, I know he didn’t. Jumping is something she would do, not to die but to make a point of some kind. He’s not that kind of guy. He’s just too young and doesn’t have any kids of his own. He can’t handle this, none of us can. But she always puts us thru it.
Her friends hug us kids, so do grandma and grandpa when they get there, everything will be okay, they’ll take care of it.
We’re at the hospital all day, someone took Josh home, he needs to sleep. Angie and me are tired but we keep walking the halls. I watch a beautiful sunrise over Seattle from a window high up. I love the city, I wish we lived here.
She’s in a coma, so we go home and drive back everyday. He’s good about that sort of thing, bringing us kids to see her. I like getting to go to the city but I wish it wasn’t for this reason.
“She’s awake,” says mom’s friend after two weeks, the one Angie and Josh have been staying with. When we get in the room she’s so little, like an eight-year-old girl. She looks weird in the hospital gown, with almost no hair on her head. And they’ve got that thing in her head to keep her brain from swelling. Who is she? She wasn’t a heck of a mom before, but now, she’s not even a mom at all. I can’t take this.
I take a turn trying to talk to her. The doctors say her memory is behind, like she’s a few years back. She doesn’t recognize her boyfriend; she’s only been with him for 6 months. She knows me but she’s confused. I can’t talk to her.
We keep coming to visit. They put her in a wheelchair now and we push her around the halls, sometimes she’s alone with me. I can tell she doesn’t know I’m there, not really because she keeps saying, “Jane is coming to get me, Jane will pick me up.” I’m Jane and I’m standing right there next to her. Angie hears it too and we both cry. I don’t know what to tell her, I can’t bring her home now, I just can’t.
She needs to stay at the hospital longer, she can’t control all of her body functions yet and her memory is still fuzzy. But she really wants to go home, so grandma and grandpa get her released. They’ll take care of her; her friends will take care of us. Why didn’t I yell out, “No, they won’t, I’ll have to take care of her, don’t’ let her go, who cares if she wants to be with her boyfriend, he doesn’t want her back now.” But like always, I don’t say anything.
One month later we’re back in the trailer, and life is back to normal. Josh is still with friends, she can’t handle him yet. But things are okay. I hate school anyway, so I’m not going anymore. I take care of her now. No one seems worried about it. I tell them I’m fine, it’s easier that way. I get to drive her car, I’m only 14 but I’ve been driving for a couple of years. She always wants me to drive her somewhere. I love that, I get be in control. I get to handle the food stamps too, its not real money, but I get to go grocery shopping like an adult. I get to be in control of the trailer now; he’s hardly ever there. I know he wishes we would leave, but he won’t kick us out. I don’t blame him; she put too much on him. We’ll move soon anyway.
A year later we’re in an apartment. Grandma paid for it. I love it; it’s much bigger than the trailer. I’m going to an alternative school to now that’s perfect for me. Its all kids with lives like mine. The two teachers are great, they have a way of talking to me that makes me feel so good about myself. It takes me two years there to earn all the credits to graduate. I’m so glad I stuck with this; I’m starting at the community college next semester. I don’t know what I want to be yet, but they say you don’t have to decide for a while. I can just take classes that interest me. I have her car all the time now, for school and I drive her around a lot to but I don’t mind that, I still like the independence of driving.
It turns out she did jump, though she’ll never admit to it. It was just from being high. There was no big reason to do it. But I’m glad it got us away from him. Together they were dealing and using all the time. She’s stayed clean for a while now and she’s calmer. I can sort of depend on her now and I need that. If she’ll stay this way, I know our family will be okay.
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