Mockingbird

by Kathryn Erskine

  The first one was pink. Pink is the color of medicine and feels drippy and sicky.

  The second one had a tag that itched.

  The third one felt like carnivorous dinosaur skin and I would be eaten alive.

  The fourth one had a stripe at an angle and was evil.

  It’s not evil, Devon said.

  It’s evil, evil, evil! I said, and I screamed until he put his hand over my mouth and I bit his finger hard and he tried to get his finger out of my mouth but I wouldn’t let him until I saw the tears coming out of his eyes. He crumpled on the floor holding his finger tight and his face went red and I realized for the first time that Devon feels pain.

  And now I wonder if he felt pain on The Day Our Life Fell Apart?

  I feel a cold hand on my arm and I flinch. It’s Dad. Caitlin. What do you want to do for your birthday?

  I whisper that I want Devon to take me to the mall.

  Dad moves around so his head is peeking in at me. What?

  I want Devon to take me shopping like he did last year.

  Dad puts his head down so his chin touches his chest. He says nothing for a while. Then he looks up. He can’t.

  But it’s MY birthday and that’s what I want.

  He sighs and explains that Devon is no longer with us and is in Heaven with my mother and the two of them are looking down on us and will always love us.

  I know that. Why is he explaining it all? Is he reminding himself?

  When he finally finishes I say, I still want him to take me.

  Dad shakes his head and he stares at the carpet but his eyes are watery. Maybe he’s stuffed-animaling. Finally he says he will get dinner started. This means the conversation is over.

  I push my head farther under the sofa cushion but it doesn’t swallow me up like I want it to.

  CHAPTER 17

  KEEP YOUR PANTS ON

  I’M DOING MUCH BETTER AT keeping pace with Mrs. Brook at recess. She says I don’t look like I’m marching in step anymore so it’s much more natural AND she says that shows a lot of finesse. I smile until she says the next thing.

  Your dad is worried that you might not understand that Devon . . . isn’t alive. He tells me you say, Devon says this or Devon does that, as if he’s still alive.

  I do say that but it doesn’t mean I think he’s still alive. He was alive when he said those things though.

  Your dad said you want Devon to take you shopping.

  I do.

  But Devon can’t take you shopping. Do you understand that?

  Yes. But he asked what I want. That’s what I want. I know I can’t have it.

  I see. When you’re talking with your dad about Devon you might want to make it clear that you understand he’s now gone.

  Will that make Dad happy?

  I think so. Yes.

  Fine. I’ll try.

  Mrs. Brook smiles. You know what? You’re starting to show empathy.

  I am?

  You feel for your dad. You know he’s hurting and you want to make him happy. That’s wonderful.

  I nod even though I’m not sure I completely understand.

  She starts talking about friends again but I stop her.

  I already made one, I tell her. In fact I have seven little dwarf friends.

  She tilts her head. Then she shakes it. I’m talking about real people Caitlin.

  Me too. They’re first graders. I think. At least Michael is.

  She does her turtle neck jerk. Michael Schneider?

  I don’t know. Does he wear a red Potomac Nationals baseball cap?

  He often does. Caitlin. Do you remember the name of the teacher who was killed at the middle school?

  Of course. It was Mrs. Roberta L. Schneider. And then I think about Michael’s last name. Oh. Are they related?

  Mrs. Brook nods. Michael’s mother.

  I knew his mother was dead but I didn’t know she was shot like Devon. Is that why he was at the memorial service?

  Yes. I think all of us were at the memorial service. We’re a small enough town that we’re like one big family. But . . . still . . . how odd for you two to find each other.

  It’s not odd, I say. I’m at little kid recess now. Remember? And he was crying the first time I saw him so I was being nice to him. And he knew about Devon. He said I was the weirdo whose—

  The what? Mrs. Brook jerks her neck again.

  He didn’t really mean weirdo. He said he was sorry. He’s nice. And so am I. So it’s not odd for us to be friends.

  She smiles. You’re right. I think you and Michael have a very important friendship.

  Me too. I’m glad I have stickers and gummy worms for him.

  When little kid recess starts I give Michael more planet stickers and all the gummy worms in my pocket.

  Thanks! He looks at the worms. What are their names?

  I start to name them but then I stop. You can name them.

  He grins. He dangles the orange one in front of me and then the red. This is Henry and this is Mudge.

  Like in the book, I say.

  He nods. And these two green ones are Frog and Toad. Have you read those books?

  I have all of those books.

  Me too, he says. Hey guess what!

  What?

  My teacher says we’re getting fifth-grade reading buddies! Will you be my buddy?

  I haven’t heard anything about fifth-grade buddies. I don’t know if I’m doing it. Maybe they do it during first recess when I have Mrs. Brook time.

  He shakes his head. Nope. It’s at the end of the day. It starts Thursday.

  Oh. I wonder if Mrs. Johnson told us and I just wasn’t listening. Sometimes that happens. A lot.

  Hey guess what? Michael says. It’s Tyler’s birthday. We got cookies with gummy bears on them.

  Lucky.

  And he’s having a skating party on Saturday. What kind of party are you having?

  What?

  You said your birthday is next month.

  It is.

  So what kind of party are you having?

  I don’t have parties.

  Oh. What do you do?

  I go to the mall with my brother.

  His Bambi eyes open wide and he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. Isn’t your brother dead?

  Yes. But I still want to do it.

  He nods slowly. I know. I still want to do stuff with my mom too.

  I feel glowy and warm because Michael Gets It. My dad doesn’t Get It, I tell him.

  My dad doesn’t Get It either.

  Does he still want to play football?

  Michael sighs. All the time.

  He must really love football.

  Yeah. I don’t think he’s very good at it though.

  Why not?

  I heard my grandmother say that he’s keeping his head up but pretty soon he’s going to crash and burn.

  I turn and Look At The Person. You mean in a car accident?

  Michael Looks At The Person too. No. It means he’s going to be really bad at something. My grandmother says that kind of stuff all the time. She says shake a leg when she wants you to hurry and perk up your ears when she wants you to listen and be a doll when she wants you to get her a glass of iced tea.

  I can’t help giggling. I try to picture a doll holding a glass of iced tea.

  Michael laughs too. Want to know my favorite thing she says? When she wants you to be patient she says . . . keep your pants on!

  I laugh too. Why would you take your pants off?

  I don’t know! He howls.

  And we both end up giggling until the bell rings.

  When I get home I remember what Mrs. Brook said about Dad and Devon and I have a plan to make everything okay. I sit on the sofa and start talking about Devon a lot except I don’t call him Devon anymore. I call him Devon-who-is-dead. I say it until Dad asks me to stop.

  But that’s his name.

  No. His name is Devon.

  No. His name WAS Devon. Now it�
�s Devon-who-is-dead. That’s different from the other Devon. That Devon was alive and you thought I was confused but I’m not because I know that Devon is dead and that’s why I’m calling him Devon-who-is-dead and you’ll get used to it.

  No I won’t. I’ll feel like crying every time you say it.

  Even if I say it fifty times?

  Yes.

  Even a hundred times?

  Yes.

  Even a thousand times?

  Caitlin. I get upset even thinking about it so I’ll definitely feel like crying every time you say it.

  I’m only saying it because you’re upset that I think Devon is still alive so I’m showing you I Get It that Devon is dead.

  Dad shakes his head and leaves the living room.

  I stare at the chest and wish for the millionth time that Devon were here because even when I try to Get It I still don’t Get It.

  CHAPTER 18

  A PLAN FOR HEALING

  MICHAEL IS RIGHT. WE ARE DOING reading buddies. When my class walks into the library Michael’s class is already sitting in a circle on the floor crisscross-applesauce. We open and close our hands three times to each other. It’s our special wave. He’s grinning so much it reminds me to smile.

  Mrs. Brook is there too and she’s also smiling. Hi Caitlin.

  I start shaking my hands. It’s not Mrs. Brook time yet. I have to read to Michael.

  Her smile goes away too. Actually we’re pairing Michael and Josh up.

  I Look At The Person. Why? He’s evil!

  Josh stands up and stares at me. He blinks fast and sits down again.

  Shhh! Caitlin! Mrs. Brook whispers. That’s not nice.

  I wasn’t talking about Michael, I tell her.

  I realize that. She is still whispering.

  You are making a mistake.

  We’re . . . She smiles. We’re working on Closure here.

  I look around the room. Where is it? Because that’s what I’m working on and I’d like to see it.

  She takes me out into the hall and explains that Josh is going through a lot right now too just like Michael and me. And that Josh needs to see that not everyone’s mad at him and Michael needs to see that Josh can be a very nice boy. I call it a Plan for Healing, she says.

  I Look At The Person. A Plan for Healing is a stupid plan because Josh cannot be a very nice boy. Haven’t you seen him push people off the monkey bars? Do you know what he says to people?

  I do. And none of that is okay. But he has been getting counseling too and we’re working through his hurt so he can get to Closure.

  What about ME? I’M the one who wants Closure!

  Part of your Plan for Healing is to make friends. Right?

  I AM making friends and now you’re giving him to Josh!

  You can both be friends with the same person.

  She doesn’t Get It. Michael is MY friend. I want to be the one who reads to him!

  You can read to him during recess or other times but for our once-a-week reading buddies it’s going to be Josh and Michael.

  The rest of the stupid reading buddies time is a blur. I know I read really LOUD so Michael can hear me reading to HIM even though I am at the other end of the library. I know that the stupid little girl I’m reading to starts crying because she says I’m yelling at her which I’m not. If the book says STOP! then that’s how you should read it. Especially if Michael is sitting next to Josh and especially if Josh is giving Michael a high five and ESPECIALLY if Michael and Josh are giggling together. And I know Mrs. Brook takes me out of the library early but not before I see Michael looking at me with his big Bambi eyes and giving me our special wave.

  At home I go to my hidey-hole in Devon’s room. I take his piece of notebook paper with me. The one that says EAGLE SCOUT PROJECT. The one with the list of supplies for his chest. The one that says he’s going to teach me. I stare at the list trying to find Closure. I keep hoping that somehow the Devon-ness of the list will give me the answer but it doesn’t.

  I look up at Devon’s carving of SCOUT and wonder if I can still be Scout if the person who called me Scout is now gone. I still want to be Scout for him. Devon said, If you want to be a Scout you have to Work At It. I know he was talking about Boy Scouts and Eagle Scouts but he also said that about anything I had to do. You have to Work At It Scout. I KNOW, I told him because he said it a lot lot lot and sometimes I don’t want to hear the same thing over and over and over. Especially if it’s hard. And Work At It is VERY hard. I Work At It ALL the time. My whole day is Work At It. Sometimes I don’t want to Work At It anymore. Like when I FINALLY get my own friend and then Mrs. Brook TAKES HIM AWAY FROM ME! It’s just—too—HARD! It’s—NOT—FAIR!

  I hear Dad calling my name but I don’t want to come out of my hidey-hole. I’m busy stuffed-animaling the carving of SCOUT. It’s warm and soft and quiet and safe in here. And I don’t have to Work At It. I’m thinking about staying here. Living here. Forever.

  Finally when Dad says, Answer me please Caitlin! I answer because he asked nicely.

  The door opens. Caitlin? His voice sounds funny. Are you in here?

  I’m under the dresser.

  What are you doing in here?

  Thinking.

  Thinking about what?

  Thinking I’m going to stay here and make this my room now.

  Oh? Why?

  It was always supposed to be mine. I asked Devon if I could have it.

  He’s quiet for a minute. Then he takes a deep breath. When Devon was gone to college.

  He IS gone.

  I hear the squishy breathy sound of Devon’s mattress squishing. But . . . he’s not just gone to college. He’s gone . . . forever.

  I don’t tell Dad that I didn’t ask Devon if I could have his room when he was gone. I asked him a different way.

  And Devon said it was a weird way and I shouldn’t say it like that and I asked why.

  He said people would get upset.

  I don’t want Dad to get upset.

  So I don’t say what I really said: Can I have your room when you’re dead?

  I think maybe I understand what Devon meant. Because now I have a recess feeling in my stomach.

  I slide out from my hidey-hole and crawl past Dad’s shoes to my room. I get a clean piece of paper and make a sign. It says, Devon’s Room, and I draw Devon’s eyes in the top left corner. In the top right corner I draw his mouth with his lips curled up to show he’s happy. I draw his crooked nose in the bottom left corner. His chest is in the bottom right corner. It’s still not finished. And I guess it never will be.

  CHAPTER 19

  SHOES

  EARLY TUESDAY MORNING RACHEL Lockwood comes into class and her face is scratched up and purple. Her left arm and leg are bandaged. Everyone crowds around her saying, Oh my gosh! What happened? Are you okay?

  I fell off my bike, Rachel says.

  How? someone asks.

  I was riding past the middle school and I heard sirens and I thought there was another shooting.

  Oh my gosh! Was there? a girl asks.

  No—duh! a boy says. We would’ve heard by now.

  Rachel shakes her head. No. But I was watching the police car coming up the road so I wasn’t watching where I was going and I went off the sidewalk and fell off my bike. She looks down. It really hurt. I was riding so fast to try to get away because I was scared of being shot like . . . She stops talking and turns to me. So does everyone else. It is very quiet.

  You should watch where you’re going when you’re riding a bike, I tell her. That’s what Devon always told me.

  Some people turn away and some shake their heads but I know I’m right. Emma and some of the other girls stand around Rachel so she is in the middle of a circle and they are all staring at her. I wouldn’t like that so I stare at them and hope they get the message to leave her alone.

  Finally Rachel asks if her face looks really bad and Emma says, Of course not. It looks totally fine.

  Rachel says
, Really? She looks around and her eyes stop at me.

  I look away because I wasn’t staring at her like those other girls.

  What? she asks. Her voice is soft and shaky. Does my face look bad?

  Even though I’m not looking at her I can feel her Look At The Person. I wonder how she knows that honesty is one of my skills. Yes, I say. It looks bad. It’s purple and puffy and really gross.

  Rachel starts crying and runs out of the room.

  CAITLIN! Emma yells. That was so mean! Didn’t anyone ever tell you how to be a friend?

  That’s when I realize that maybe I should listen to Mrs. Brook when she talks about friends. Now that Devon isn’t here to tell me.

  I try to say that purple is actually my favorite color but too many of the girls are yelling at me. They say that Rachel will be self-conscious and embarrassed and it’s all my fault.

  I hate self-conscious and embarrassed. I decide to help Rachel. I’m a very helpful person. I look around the room but I know there’s no place for her to hide. There’s no sofa or blanket or anyplace where she can be in her Personal Space and not have people staring at her.

  Then I have an idea. I pull her desk out of the row and push it all the way to the back corner of the room and shove it up against the wall where the terrarium was until the turtle died.

  I hear voices saying, What is she doing?

  She’s such a weirdo!

  She’s finally cracked!

  But I don’t care. I’m being a friend.

  I go back and get Rachel’s chair and put it under her desk so it’s facing the corner. Now no one can see her face and she can hide from everyone. I’m happy until Emma and Rachel come back and Rachel starts crying again and Emma starts yelling and pulls the desk out of the corner and I try to stop her and Mrs. Johnson comes in and says, What in the world is going on?

  Emma says how mean I’m being and Mrs. Johnson gives me her pinched lip stern look and says, What’s this all about? And I tell her I’m just trying to be a friend.

  Some of the boys laugh but the girls are mad and Mrs. Johnson takes me all the way to Mrs. Brook’s room herself even though I know how to get there.