Kat's Fall Page 7

  “No, thanks,” I say. I’m not participating in any of this.

  She sits down on a chair facing us. She stubs out her cigarette in an ashtray. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail and she’s barefoot, wearing only jeans and a pale yellow T-shirt. She looks exactly the way I remember her. An ugly conflict begins to stir inside me. It’s like I’ve been transported back in time, and the feelings I had for her as a little boy are trying to sneak out of the place they’ve been stashed for ten years. The grown-up me roughly pushes them away. Those little boy feelings didn’t know better.

  “Kat’s been telling me that you’re a wonderful big brother.”

  I glance at Kat. “Someone had to take care of her.”

  She nods sadly. “That’s for sure.”

  It isn’t the reaction I was hoping for.

  “I know you’re mad at me, Darcy. You have every right to be.”

  I don’t say anything. What is there to say?

  “I was hoping you’d give me a fresh start,” she continues, using her hands and speaking slowly.

  “Why should I?”

  She shakes her head. “Because I need you to.”

  The phone rings.

  “Hello?”

  I watch Mom’s face pale. She hangs up.

  “Another one?” Kat asks.

  Mom nods.

  The phone rings again. I see the parole officer look up. Mom reaches for it but Kat jumps up. “No!” she says. She picks up the receiver and pushes it under a cushion on the couch.

  Mom laughs. “You’re catching on, Babe,” she signs. Babe? I’m about to barf.

  “Mean people keep phoning and bugging Mom,” Kat tells me.

  She should tell someone who cares.

  “Do you remember much about our life, Darcy? Before…before I went to prison?”

  “Enough.” That’s an understatement, considering the memory that rushed back at me when I got off the elevator.

  “I was a mess, wasn’t I? I can’t believe it was me when I look back on those days. It’s like looking into someone else’s nightmare.” She lights another cigarette.

  Kat tries to lighten the mood. “Mom says I can have a sleepover here next weekend,” she tells me.

  I look at her. “Oh yeah?” God, a whole weekend without her? I’m not ready for it. “What are you going to do with your dog?”

  “You’ll look after the dog, won’t you, Darcy?” Mom asks.

  “But she’s mine,” Kat argues. I see the signs of a puberty moment coming on. I can’t believe she hasn’t thought of this before now. “Dad just got her for me. Her name is Star, and I’ve just started training her to sense when I’m about to have a seizure and to protect me. Especially when Darcy’s not there.”

  I glance at Mom’s pale face. “You remember about the epilepsy, don’t you?” I ask, pointedly.

  I don’t think she catches my meaning. She crosses one leg over the other and her foot begins to twitch nervously.

  Kat glances about her. “I can bring her here, can’t I?” she asks, her own alarm beginning to register on her face.

  “Kat,” Mom says, resting her cigarette on the ashtray so she can sign, “I don’t think I’m allowed to have dogs here. It’s such a small place.”

  Kat slumps a little lower on the couch. I hear the parole officer turn a page in her book.

  “It’s a big responsibility to have Kat for a whole weekend,” I tell Mom. “She has to take medication for her seizures, but occasionally she gets them anyway. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  But Mom’s still thinking about the dog. “Kat, I’m going to be straightforward. I’ve promised myself to always be honest with you.” She picks up the cigarette and takes a long pull on it. Her hand is shaking. “I’m afraid of dogs. Deathly afraid. Have been since I was a little girl and got this.” She pulls up one leg of her jeans to expose a mass of scars twisting around her leg. It looks a lot like the underside of my arm. For a brief second I wonder if it really was a dog, but then I notice the shaking hand again.

  “You were attacked?”

  Mom nods.

  “But Star isn’t like that!” Kat signs. “She’s gentle and sweet and—”

  “It’s an irrational fear, honey. The same way other people are afraid of spiders or snakes. I’ve tried to deal with it, but I’ve had to face up to so many other things. That one hasn’t been high on my list.”

  “You’ll get used to her,” Kat insists. “I promise.”

  Mom stares at her. “I don’t know. One thing at a time I think. We’re just starting to get to know each other and I want to get reacquainted with your brother and find a job. There’s so much for me to do already.”

  Kat sighs. I can see from her expression that Mom’s hero-status has just taken a giant nosedive in Kat’s estimation. It’s like in the game of Snakes and Ladders when you almost get to the top to win, but then you land on that last snake and it swoops you down, practically back to square one. I’d say Mom’s just made that slide.

  Mom knows it too. I try hard not to look smug.

  Seven

  Kat decides not to visit Mom the next day, so we’re home after school with Dad and with too much time on our hands. Kat mopes about the house, Star constantly at her side.

  Dad finally gets fed up. “What is the matter with her?” he shouts at me after Kat has burst into tears for the fourth time.

  “I think she’s trying to decide which she wants more, a mom or a dog.”

  “Tell her she doesn’t have a choice.”

  “You tell her. The dog was your idea.”

  “I’d forgotten about Sherri’s stupid fears,” he admits, then adds, mumbling, “God, you’d think she’d have outgrown it by now.”

  “I told you that you’d regret this, Dad.”

  He doesn’t say a word.

  I'M SURPRISED WHEN Kat decides to do the weekend sleepover. She’s pulled herself together, and on Thursday night she packs a bag to take on Friday. She’ll go straight to Mom’s after school.

  “You promise to feed and walk Star?” she signs, for the umpteenth time. Her anxious face makes my heart ache.

  I nod and wonder how this is all going to resolve itself. I’m actually surprised that Dad hasn’t called and asked Eileen to come and collect the damn dog.

  Kat must have read my thoughts. “And I’ll never forgive you if Dad gives her back while I’m away,” she says.

  “Dad blew it, Kat,” I tell her, using my hands. “He should have checked with Mom before he got the dog. We both knew that.”

  “I’m going to make Mom change her mind,” she signs back. “If she can stop using drugs she can stop being afraid of dogs.”

  I hand her the epilepsy medicine. “Some things you just can’t change, Kat, no matter how badly you want to.”

  “That’s what you think,” she signs and drops the bottle into her new purse.

  THE DEEP ACHE in my chest worsens when it’s time to say goodbye to Kat on Friday morning. It is a pain that just will not go away. Maybe that’s why I actually strike up a conversation with Gem. I can’t find any other explanation.

  I find her reading a book in the library at lunchtime and sit down beside her. She glances at me, surprised, but she doesn’t tell me where to go, like I figured she would. God knows I deserve it.

  “So how come you got sent to this school?” I ask, like we’re old friends.

  She closes her book and frowns. “What’s got into you?”

  “It’s just a simple question.”

  “Nothing’s simple when it comes to you, Darcy,” she answers. “I’d say you’re about as complicated as they come.”

  “Really. So now you’re a psychoanalyst or something?”

  “Doesn’t take a psychoanalyst to know you’re one antisocial guy.”

  I decide not to argue with that.

  “So, what do you want?” she asks.

  It’s a good question. I don’t know, really. I just felt the need to talk to someo
ne, to build one of those damn bridges or something. It’s not a feeling I’m used to. When I open my mouth to speak, I’m amazed at what comes out. “I’m dog-sitting for my sister this weekend. I thought maybe you could help me. You seemed to like her better than I do.”

  “You don’t like that dog?” She looks incredulous.

  “It’s not that I don’t like her. I just…I don’t know. I’ve never given dogs or what to do with them much thought. Besides, I didn’t like all the attention she got when I was out walking her. You’re probably friendlier than me.”

  “Probably?” she laughs. “I sure hope so!”

  I can’t help myself. I smile.

  “Whoa,” she says. “Do you ever look different when you smile.”

  She’s studying me in a way that makes me feel squirmy. I have to look away.

  “Sure,” she says. “Why don’t we take her to that field down by the creek and see if she likes to play fetch? I’ll bring a tennis racket and some old balls.”

  “Okay,” I agree. “As long as you promise not to go reciting any of The Rose’s quotes on me.”

  She smacks my arm.

  “This afternoon?” I ask.

  “This afternoon.”

  I notice the ache in my heart begins to ease, just a little.

  I SPOT HER coming across the field toward us. The wind is whipping her hair around her head. She’s wearing a denim jacket with fleece lining. The collar is up to keep her neck warm. Her stride is confident and she waves a gloved hand when she spots me. Star sees her too and sniffs the air. I think she recognizes her. Her tail starts wagging hard.

  Gem shows Star a tennis ball. “You know how to play fetch, girl? Do you?” I notice she talks to Star in a high-pitched voice, as if she’s talking to a twoyear- old kid, and I swear Star knows exactly what Gem’s suggesting because her tail gets wagging so hard that it pulls her in circles. She barks at Gem and then bends forward, her rear end in the air, her long feathered tail as steady as a metronome.

  Gem whacks the ball across the field and Star charges after it. We watch her quietly. In less than a minute she’s back, dropping the ball neatly at Gem’s feet. “Good girl!” Gem says. She picks up the ball and slams it with the racket again. Star’s gone like a shot. They keep this up for a good fifteen minutes, and despite some serious panting, Star shows no sign of quitting. Finally she comes back, drops the ball a short distance from Gem and flops down beside it, chest heaving. She doesn’t lift her head, but her eyes roll to look up at Gem apologetically.

  Gem laughs. “It’s okay, Star. I know you need a rest.”

  I’ve been watching the game quietly, but now I feel awkward. Without Star to watch I’m going to have to think of something intelligent to say. “Thanks,” I say, for starters. “That did the trick. And I didn’t have to be friendly, either.”

  “You’re not off the hook yet, buddy. You’ll be out walking her again before the evening’s over.”

  “That’s not what I wanted to hear.”

  I’m still watching Star, but I sense Gem studying my face again. I wonder what she’s thinking. “Do you want to walk along the creek?” I ask, surprising even myself.

  “Sure.”

  Star climbs to her feet and follows us as we tromp down to the path that follows the water’s edge. I don’t bother with the leash but let her wander along beside us, sniffing at who knows what.

  “You never answered my question this afternoon,” I say.

  “What question was that?”

  “Why you’re at Hope Springs Alternate. ”

  I feel her mood shift and immediately regret asking the question. “You don’t have to tell me,” I mumble.

  “It’s okay,” she says. We continue walking. “I guess I’m just like most of the kids there,” she says quietly. “I couldn’t handle the rules at my last school. I was always late, I could never get my assignments done on time and I was just kinda flunking out. It’s weird. I didn’t try to get in trouble, but I couldn’t organize myself the way they expected us to.”

  I nod, urging her to continue.

  “Then I started hanging out with other kids who didn’t fit the norm.” She pauses, thinking about it. “Things got out of hand. We did some really stupid stuff.” She kicks the toe of her shoe into the gravel path. “I wish I could go back and erase most of it.”

  I have no idea how to respond, so I don’t say anything.

  “How ’bout you?” she asks. “You seem pretty organized.”

  “I’m not quite sure why I’m there,” I tell her. “I think it had more to do with my personality than anything else.”

  “Yeah, well, you are a bit different,” she says. “But I’ve always liked different.”

  I glance at her. Is she saying she likes me? The sparkle is back in her eyes and I feel myself relax a little.

  “So,” she says, changing the subject, “is your sister going to keep Star?”

  “I don’t know. Dad wants Kat to go live with our mom, but Mom is afraid of dogs. Kat’s totally in love with the dog, but she wants things to work out with Mom, too.”

  “She’s got a bit of a problem.”

  “Just a bit.”

  “Are you going to live with your mom too?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Why not?”

  “Like you don’t know?” I don’t like the direction this conversation is moving in.

  “Your sister doesn’t have a problem with it.”

  “Well, I do.” I try to think of a way to change the subject, but I’m at a loss for words.

  “What’s she like, anyway?”

  “My mom?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She’s a bitch. What do you think? She dropped her baby daughter off a balcony.”

  “Then why does your sister want to live with her?”

  “I guess she’s tired of living with just me and my dad. She wants a mom.”

  Gem arranges the tin of balls and racket in one arm and picks up a stick with the other. She flings it toward the river. Star must have thought the games had started again because she goes charging through the brush to retrieve it. The stick hits the water with a splash. So does Star. She’s dropping the stick at Gem’s feet a moment later. Gem chucks it again.

  “What do you remember?”

  I feel a sweat break out in my pits, even though the wind is cold. “I remember baby-sitting Kat in the hall of our apartment building while she entertained men inside. I was all of four years old. Nice, huh?”

  She gives me a sad look, which only pisses me off. “And then after she tries to kill my sister she goes to jail and leaves us with a man who doesn’t want us.”

  “Did you love her back then?” she asks quietly.

  “Well, duh. I was just a little kid. She was my mom. I didn’t know any better.”

  “Maybe you can learn to love her again.”

  Star drops the stick at Gem’s feet, but I pick it up before she does and wing it as hard as I can. Star bounds away after it. “She doesn’t deserve my love.” I shove my hands deep into my pockets, trying to control the rage I feel building up inside of me.

  “You know, things are not always what they seem. It sounds like your mom would like to erase some of the stuff she did too,” Gem says.

  “It’s a little late now.”

  She looks directly at me. “Yeah,” she says. “I guess it is.”

  Star returns without the stick. Her body breaks into a tremendous shudder, starting with her head and shoulders, and ending with the tip of her tail. Gem and I jump back, but not quickly enough. We are covered in water. I guess Star has had enough of this little party. So have I. I turn around and lead the way back.

  IT'S SATURDAY NICNT. Dad’s out. Star is sitting across the living room from me, staring out the window. She’s probably watching for Kat to come home.

  “Star,” I say quietly. She turns, looking at me with sad eyes. “She’s not coming.”

  She cocks her head.


  “You’ve been left behind.”

  Her ears perk forward and she tilts her head the other way.

  “Trust me on this one, Star. That’s what they do.”

  With a little whimper, she pads across the floor and places her head on my knee. I console her by massaging her ears, just the way I saw Gem do it.

  MOM PHONES DAD on Sunday afternoon and tells him that Kat is anxious for me to come with him to pick her up. Apparently she has something to show me. Reluctantly, I climb into the car. When we arrive at the apartment building I look up and see Kat watching for us from the balcony. I step out of the car and wave to her. She leans against the rail, pressing something to her chest. It moves.

  “Look, Darcy!” she yells. “Mom got me a kitten.”

  I swear my heart stops beating. I gawk up at her and see the kitten squirming in her arms. Kat’s too close to the edge but too excited about the kitten to wait for me to get upstairs to see it up close. Panic grips me. I want to run up those five flights and yank her off the balcony, but my boots are cemented to the pavement. I try to yell at her, tell her to get away from the rail, but nothing but a dry cough comes out of my mouth.

  “Darcy?” Kat yells down. “Are you okay?”

  A blur of cloudy images blinds me. A baby is falling, falling. A woman’s tortured wails sear the still air and a small boy watches quietly from the balcony. I scrunch up my eyes and cover my ears. I don’t want to see any more. I don’t want to hear any more. MAKE IT GO AWAY! a voice in my head screams.

  “What is it, Darcy?” Dad’s voice cuts through the screaming in my head. “Are you okay?”

  With a great effort I force my eyes open and uncover my ears, but I have no voice. I can’t see anything. I can only shake my head. No, I’m not okay.

  “You’re pale,” he says. “Let’s get upstairs before you pass out on the sidewalk.”

  He pushes me toward the door and my feet miraculously unglue themselves from the ground. I feel like I can’t get enough air. I suck in huge gulps. Dizziness and nausea overwhelm me. Everything is black except for little white sparks that are flashing in my head.

  Dad puts his hand on my back and pushes me to the elevator. I swallow hard, trying not to throw up.