by Lianne Oelke
After we got home and I set everything up, I went for a run. I told myself I’d run until I figured out what to do about R. I lost about five pounds, two hours, and three dollars on Gatorade but didn’t come up with any decent ideas. I hate apologizing. No, that’s not true. I hate being wrong.
I miss my anger. It was so nice to hold on to, so warm and full of energy. But it’s deflating and I’m deflating; I’m a balloon leaking air.
Maybe I was wrong to think getting back on the show would keep me going.
FFAFFAug12
A letter that arrived in the mail this morning:
Dear Sinner:
You don’t deserve to be back on the show. The whole thing was rigged. You are kind of an asshole to everyone esp. Robbie. He obviously still likes you, but you won’t even talk to him. I hope you lose because I used to like the show but I’m sick of everything being about you.
—ANONYMOUS
Fairly straight to the point. I prefer the postcard from West Edmonton Mall I received a couple weeks ago, which said, “Experience the best that Edmonton has to offer!” on the front and “die sinner” on the back. It’s hanging on my wall.
SatAug13
So many papers.
Rough drafts are good enough drafts.
I have no patience.
So many cameras
Pretending not to be here
Watching empty rooms.
Poetry is a poor substitute for emotion. Good thing I only have a few more exams between me and the end of this term, because I’m losing my fondness for words.
Less than two weeks until I (theoretically) graduate. Feels like an eternity away. Once I have my stupid diploma, once this show is over, I can leave Elbow River and never look back. And then—
Well, what are you going to do with yourself then, Jane?
SunAug14
Nothing.
I was supposed to go to the parents’ for lunch, but I canceled. I didn’t have the energy to deal with the parents. Carol woke me from a textbook-induced coma with a phone call.
CAROL
How are you feeling, Janie?
Why does everyone keep asking me that?
JS
I don’t know.
CAROL
Well, you must be excited for your final challenge this week, right?
JS
I don’t know.
CAROL
I would be. You’ve got a good chance of winning. I wish I was on the show!
JS
You don’t want to be like me, kid.
CAROL
Why not?
JS
You just don’t. Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t make it today. We’ll hang out more when this is over.
Silence.
JS
Carol?
CAROL
It’s always “when this is over.”
JS
It’s not like that. You don’t understand.
CAROL
Because you never talk to me! You treat me like I’m a child.
JS
That’s not true.
I know she’s not really a child. Part of me wants her to stay the same forever, and part of me wants her to learn from my mistakes and do more with her teenage years than I did.
CAROL
Yeah, it is. And you’re right—I don’t get it. I don’t get why you’re making such a big deal out of this show. I don’t get what you’re doing or what you want, or why you don’t think the people who love you can help.
Maybe she had a point. Maybe if I had done things differently, if I had listened to my best friend and gotten out of that fucking van before Marc pushed me out, I wouldn’t be sitting by myself in coffee-stained underwear, arguing with the one person I need on my side no matter what.
JS
Carol, trust me. This isn’t about you.
CAROL
Why can’t it be about me, just for once? I wanted you to come over today, Janie. I invited someone else too, and I wanted you to meet him.
Carol has a boyfriend? No shit. She’s growing up faster than I am.
JS
I’m sorry, Carol. I didn’t know. Look, I’ll come over as soon as I can, but I’ve got exams this week. And the challenge.
CAROL
Whatever. Just do what you have to do. I guess I’ll see you when this is over.
Talking with Carol should have cheered me up, and yet it’s done the opposite. Whatever numbness crept up on me last year feels like it’s creeping back. I don’t know how to explain this to anyone—it sounds like bullshit, even to me.
MonAug15
Jane is dozing at her desk when a gentle knock wakes her up. Dr. Freudenschade removes his hat and sits on the edge of Jane’s bed.
DFS
So what’s going on, Jane? You’re back on the show and have the support of your entire school. Why isn’t this enough?
JS
I don’t know.
DFS
That’s not a reason.
JS
Sometimes there are no reasons.
DFS
Why don’t you talk about it? Tell someone how you feel. Or that you can’t feel anything. If you want to kill yourself, shouldn’t someone know?
JS
I don’t want to kill myself. I just want to stop existing. Take a break from myself.
DFS
Tell someone.
JS
I’m telling you.
DFS
I don’t count.
JS
Then what good are you?!
DFS
I don’t know.
I gave Bonnie a call this evening. I debated for half an hour before hitting the button, because we don’t talk that much anymore. Not like we used to. And for the first time I can remember, I wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear my voice.
Thank god she answered.
JS
How do you know for sure that you want to study art?
BONNIE
Easy. It’s what I love. Why, are you feeling inspired? What do you want to do?
JS
After House of Orange, I want to go on The Bachelor. Then I want to go on Bachelor in Paradise. If that can’t get me on Ellen, I don’t know what will.
BONNIE
That act’s getting a little old now, Jane.
JS
So my mom keeps telling me.
We didn’t talk for a minute or two, but it didn’t feel like silence. I didn’t want her to hang up.
JS
Do you believe God has a plan for everyone?
BONNIE
Yes, I do.
JS
So what’s mine, then?
BONNIE
I honestly don’t know. But I believe one day we will understand more than we do now, and we’ll be able to see how everything falls into place.
JS
So everything happens for a reason?
BONNIE
I think so.
JS
What about the fucked-up shit?
BONNIE
God works it all into the plan. Even the fucked-up shit.
JS
So it’s planned.
BONNIE
No, it happens because we’re so messed up. Our choices do that.
JS
But God didn’t plan on us being messed up.
BONNIE
Well, he gave us free will.
JS
So he created us so that we’d fuck up, then blames all the shit that happens on us.
BONNIE
It’s hard to understand how God works.
It must be nice to be so sure of someone in control. Taking care of things for you. Cleaning up your mess.
BONNIE
If it makes you feel any better, the church I started going to up here staged an intervention for me. They’re worried about my lifestyle choices.
JS
Why would that make me feel any better?
&n
bsp; BONNIE
So you don’t feel like you’re missing out. I know you. Church won’t make you happy.
She should tell that to Dad.
JS
So why do you bother going? It’s always been more of a hassle for you.
BONNIE
Because it means something to me. And I think so many Christians are focused more on hatred than on love, and the irony is depressing. I want to see that change. I’m not a quitter.
JS
Wish I could say the same.
Bonnie was quiet for a long time.
BONNIE
You don’t . . . you don’t think about . . . you know, what happened on New Year’s . . . you wouldn’t . . .
JS
Of course I think about it. What’s the matter?
I could tell she was on the verge of crying.
BONNIE
Jane, I . . . please know . . . if anything happened—
She cut herself off with a sob. I didn’t want to see her hurt, but the amount of emotion leaking out of her voice was fascinating. Bonnie never cries.
JS
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.
BONNIE
No . . . it’s . . . I’m glad you told me . . . Promise me. Promise me you won’t do anything. Please.
JS
I promise.
I had never told Bonnie this, but I always respected her faith more than my own. Her faith was a conscious decision, a hard-earned achievement, constantly evolving to deal with her family’s agnosticism and her own bisexuality. I wore my own faith like the shirt I fell asleep in because I was too lazy to change.
TueAug16
I couldn’t get out of bed today. A small part of me, neglected and tucked away in the back of my mind like an old science textbook, told me I was wrong. It told me getting up was the simplest thing in the world. Like the textbook, it was true. In a way. But also like the textbook, it was completely irrelevant to my life at that moment. I was supposed to work all day, but that didn’t happen.
Hypothetical phone call:
SUPERVISOR
Good morning, Jane.
JS
I’m afraid it’s not.
SUPERVISOR
Why not?
JS
I can’t feel anything. I’m staying in bed because I have no reason to get up.
SUPERVISOR
Are you ill?
JS
No.
SUPERVISOR
Then what’s wrong?
JS
I can’t feel anything. I’m staying in bed because I have no reason to get up.
SUPERVISOR
We need you to cover your shift, though. People are counting on you. You have the opportunity to earn money. Why isn’t that reason enough to come in?
JS
Because nothing has meaning.
SUPERVISOR
Sometimes, when I’m feeling down, I drink a cup of tea and listen to my favorite song. Sometimes that helps. Why don’t you try that?
JS
I’m not feeling down.
SUPERVISOR
I make a list of all the things in my life I am grateful for, and I look at pictures of cats on the internet. The internet is full of cats, you know. There is no reason to feel down when there are so many cats on the internet. Why don’t you try looking at some cats?
JS
I am dead inside.
SUPERVISOR
But have you seen the cat that talks about french fries?
Hypothetical phone call #2:
SUPERVISOR
Good morning, Jane.
JS
I’m afraid it’s not.
SUPERVISOR
Why not?
JS
My grandma died. I’m not coming in today.
SUPERVISOR
Is everything okay?
JS
No.
SUPERVISOR
Then what’s wrong?
JS
My grandma died. I’m not coming in today.
SUPERVISOR
We need you to cover your shift, though. People are counting on you. You have the opportunity to earn money. Why isn’t that reason enough to come in?
JS
Because I lost my grandma.
SUPERVISOR
Sometimes, when I lose someone I love, I check the last place I remember seeing them. Sometimes I find that person there. Why don’t you try that?
JS
I haven’t misplaced her. She’s dead.
SUPERVISOR
Sometimes I take a moment to remember to keep my chin up. Death can’t be so bad if it happens to everyone, right?
JS
. . .
Actual conversation:
SUPERVISOR
Good morning, Jane.
JS
Hi. I can’t come in today.
SUPERVISOR
Why not?
JS
I’m sick.
SUPERVISOR
I am sorry to hear that. Feel better.
JS
Thank you.
[Coughs.]
Unfortunately, the truth would have sounded too much like bullshit.
When AP noticed that I hadn’t moved from my bed for twenty consecutive hours (except to pee and tell a HOOcap to fuck off), he called my parents. I guess he knew he couldn’t call Bonnie or Jenna or Tom. When the parents showed up in the evening, AP disabled the cameras in my room and told the HOOcaps to give us space. The parents brought donuts and coffee and read ridiculous tabloids out loud like bedtime stories, just like they did when I was in the hospital months ago. And just like in the hospital, they didn’t ask questions. I didn’t feel better after they left, but I felt slightly less like nothing. So that’s something. Almost.
WedAug17
I got out of bed. Exams are done. All right all right all right.
I am officially unemployed.
Technically I was laid off, not fired. “Cutbacks” and “quarterly losses” and “sincere regrets,” but I find their sincerity questionable. I’d become a bit of a monkey in the past few weeks, with customers gawking and tweeting pictures of me.