by Betty Culley
one giant person
with huge listening ears.
If it is possible
for Clay to sit up
even straighter,
he does.
My mom asked me and Jonah to go up in the attic
and get down the box of Halloween decorations.
She has separate bins marked for each holiday
Valentine’s Day
Easter
Fourth of July
Halloween
Thanksgiving
Christmas
that she stores up there.
It is so Clay
to list the holidays
in order.
When we got up there,
I went to find the Halloween box for Mom.
Then I heard Jonah say,
Lookee what I found on the windowsill.
When I turned around,
he was holding the gun.
Clay looks past Mom’s lawyer
like he is seeing it all happen.
He takes a deep breath
and at the end of the breath
he makes a sound.
I look over at the woman
who is recording the trial,
and her fingers are still moving
over her black recording machine.
I wonder if there is a special button
for the sound Clay just made.
I said to him,
Jonah, put it down.
It could be loaded.
You know my dad.
Mom’s lawyer walks closer to Clay
in the witness box.
Why did you say that, Clay?
Did you know it was loaded?
Through the spaces
I made in my bangs,
I see Clay’s eyes
jump to his father,
but Mom’s lawyer moves
to the right,
so that he’s blocking
Clay’s view of his father
and his father’s view
of Clay.
No, I didn’t know for sure.
But I told Jonah,
my dad always says
What good is a gun
if it isn’t loaded?
OBJECTION, hearsay.
Clay’s father’s lawyer gets to her feet.
Mom’s lawyer stands up, too.
Admission of a party opponent, your Honor,
he says.
Overruled,
the judge says to Clay’s father’s lawyer,
because it’s the statement of Arthur LeBlanc,
who is the defendant, it’s not hearsay.
I want to hear what the boy
has to say.
Please continue,
she says to Clay.
Clay clasps his hands together,
and stares
down at them
for a few seconds
before he speaks.
Then Jonah laughed and twirled the gun
around his fingers.
Is this what you call a six-shooter, Clay?
He tried to twirl it around in a circle
over his head.
Then he stuck it in the front of his pants,
and said,
All right then, I got it safe in my holster, Clay,
oh ye of little faith.
I take a quick peek
through my bangs
at Clay’s father’s lawyer.
She is on the edge
of her seat.
I said to him,
Jonah, why don’t you just put it back
where you found it.
And Jonah said,
Clay, you know I am a master at the game of chance.
WHO defies the odds by performing amazing feats
of daring?
WHO climbs the cell phone tower barefoot?
WHO falls off the roof and doesn’t even get a scratch?
When Clay says the word WHO,
he says it just like Jonah did,
even bouncing his head
with each WHO.
Then I asked him
to give me the gun.
But he didn’t, he wouldn’t.
He laughed, and said,
You really think your daddy would leave
a loaded gun where itty-bitty kiddies like us
could find it?
And blow our little brains out.
Then he took it out of his pants
and pointed it at the side of his head.
All the sound
except Clay’s voice
has been sucked out
of the courtroom.
I can almost hear
the flies
moving in the lights.
Everyone waits
for Clay
to speak.
Even the court reporter’s fingers
are frozen in midair
over her machine.
There was a shot then,
so loud, so loud,
I didn’t know what had happened.
When I opened my eyes,
it was Jonah,
not me,
on the floor.
Clay covers his own eyes,
takes a breath
that is loud enough
to be heard
by “the court,”
then uncovers them.
Mom’s lawyer
waits a moment
before he speaks.
Clay, do you have any idea
why your father’s loaded gun
was on the windowsill
in the attic?
Clay did not need
to take an oath
to tell the truth.
Mom told Dad that squirrels
were getting into
her bird feeder
in the backyard.
Dad said he’d
take care of them.
Thank you. No further questions,
Mom’s lawyer says.
Mom turns
to look at me
for the first time
since Clay started talking.
She raises her eyebrows
and shakes her head.
I know exactly
what she’s thinking,
because it’s what
I’m thinking, too—
Hard as it is to hear,
it isn’t worse than
what we had imagined,
and there were a few minutes,
when Clay spoke Jonah’s words,
that it felt like the old Jonah
was here with us
in the courtroom.
Cross
Clay’s father’s lawyer
now has a chance
to “cross-examine” Clay.
It seems to be a way
to kick someone
when they’re down—
but that’s how it works
in a court.
The lawyer
is a woman hired by
their insurance company.
She is wearing
“conservative court clothes” too—
dark-gray skirt, dark-gray jacket,
and pale-pink shirt
the same shade as Mom’s.
I have a few questions for you, Clay,
she says.
You said that Jonah picked up the gun himself?
Yes.
Did I hear you say you told Jonah
that the gun was likely loaded?
Yes, but I don’t think . . .
This is a yes-or-no question. Again, did I hear you say
you told Jonah that the gun was likely loaded?
Yes.
Did he acknowledge your warning?
I don’t know what you mean by acknowledge.
Let me put it another way. Is it true that even after you told Jonah
that the gun was likely loaded, and to put it back where he found it,
he neverthel
ess continued to handle this gun that was not his?
Yes.
Thank you, no more questions,
she says.
The judge tells Clay
he can step down,
and Clay goes to sit
in the chair
between his mother and father.
When he is seated, I see
Gwen lay a hand on his shoulder,
the one that is closest to her,
and when she does that,
I can feel Clay’s bony shoulder
in my hand, too.
Clay’s father,
waiting his own turn
for the witness box,
makes believe
there is nothing but air
between him and Gwen.
Arthur
Clay’s father has a name,
besides “Clay’s dad,” “Mr. LeBlanc”
or “President of Bugz Away Pest
Management.”
He spells it for the court.
A-R-T-H-U-R L-E-B-L-A-N-C
A-R-T-H-U-R was once someone’s baby.
Did they pick A-R-T-H-U-R because
A was first in the baby name book?
Did they hope their kid would do
great things,
like pull a sword out of a stone,
as easily as I took the tooth
from Mom’s mouth?
Mom’s lawyer carries the gun
over to the witness box.
I can’t see A-R-T-H-U-R without
also
seeing the gun.
Mom’s lawyer asks him a question.
Is this your gun?
After that, all I know
is that a membrane grows
over my eyes and ears,
like on a waterlogged beaver,
but it is not clear,
because I can’t hear anything
except a wavelike sound,
thudding over and over.
I realize it is not water,
but my own heartbeat.
The back of the bench
is hard and straight
and it reminds me
of the seats on the merry-go-round
at the Maddigan State Fair.
When I was little,
I insisted on the seats
instead of the horses.
I’d tell Dad
I KNEW the horses weren’t real.
Of course Jonah had to stand,
not sit,
on the horse’s back.
Mom was mad
she didn’t get her photo
of me and Jonah
sitting on horses.
I am spinning now
and the room is getting dark,
and I don’t have to see anyone
or anything
anymore.
I remember that all I had to eat today
was a slice of fudge,
and I feel myself falling,
and I simply let myself
go.
Then I am moving
through the air,
and I am crying,
Leave me on the merry-go-round,
oh, please
leave me on the merry-go-round.
Maybe I’m not crying
out loud, though,
because no one answers.
When I can see again,
I am in the front seat of Elinor’s car.
Elinor feeds me leftover cold
McDonald’s fries,
and warm Pepsi,
and they taste so good.
Mom and the security officer
watch me sip the Pepsi
through a straw,
like I’m the most talented person
they know.
I dip a fry in a paper cup of ketchup
Elinor hands me.
I’m fine now,
I tell Mom.
You can go back in.
I’ll take her home,
Elinor says.
Go,
I tell Mom,
and she does.
Elinor and I follow the river
back to DEAD END.
The right side
of my head is sore,
in the same place
Jonah has his boo-boo.
Elinor sees me touching it
and wincing.
You hit
the edge of the bench
when you fell,
she says.
When we get back
to Number 23,
Elinor leads me into
the little room
off the kitchen.
I get into bed
and Elinor gives me an ice pack
for my head
and a cup of milky hot chocolate.
She stands there while I drink it,
and takes the cup back.
Try to rest, now, Liv,
she says,
I’ll be in the kitchen
if you need anything.
She throws the scratchy blanket
over me,
and it weighs me down.
I hear Dr. Kate and Vivian
talking
in Jonah’s room,
and I wonder
why Dr. Kate is here,
when it’s not
Team Meeting.
I never go to bed
without first checking
on Jonah,
but now I lie here
in the middle of the afternoon,
the merry-go-round taking me
round in circles
until I’m asleep.
Snorkel Man
It is getting dark out
when I wake up,
and I am still in my
court clothes.
I hurry to the bathroom.
And when I come out,
Mom is at the kitchen table.
How did it go with Mr. LeBlanc?
I ask her.
Mr. LeBlanc
said he didn’t go inviting people
into his attic
to handle his personal property.
And told the judge
HIS son
knows all about
gun safety.
What is happening in court
tomorrow?
I ask her.
The firearms expert
and Dr. Kate are testifying.
Please eat something
in the morning
before we go—
besides fudge.
We need to talk about
one other thing, Liv.
Mom checks the pale-pink polish
on each fingernail.
She is quiet for so long
I think she’s forgotten
what she wants to say.
Then she speaks.
Clay is missing.
After the judge
called it a day,
he was supposed to wait
by their car,
while they talked to their lawyer
in the courthouse,
but when they got outside,
he wasn’t there.
The police at the courthouse,
couldn’t find him, either.
He never came home.
I saw Clay’s dad outside
with a flashlight.
It’s like he just disappeared.
Why are you telling me this?
I ask Mom.
Do you think I know where Clay is?
Do you?
I don’t. I have no idea where he is.
I am distracted by a new noise
coming from Jonah’s room.
What’s that sound?
I ask Mom.
It’s a sleep thing
for Jonah
that came today.
Phoebe can explain.
Everything happened
while I was on the merry-go-round.
; Clay disappeared, and
Jonah got a new friend.
I go into Jonah’s room.
He’s all tired out
after his big trip
to Headwater Courthouse.
He is napping with a
plastic mask
over his face,
and he smells like the lotion
Phoebe rubs on his skin.
Phoebe says that
after Dr. Kate had the talk
with Dr. Liv,
she ordered another machine
for Jonah
for when he sleeps—
Snorkel Man.
When Jonah is down underneath
the river,
holding his breath,
Snorkel Man
blows air
in and out
of his lungs,
one deep-sea diver
to the other.
See how good Jonah’s
numbers are now,
Phoebe says.
It’s true.
No loud EEKS
or flashing red lights.
Snorkel Man is on the job.
I stretch out on the recliner
next to Jonah’s bed.
Phoebe has her hair
in a waterfall today—
it sprays out
from the top of her head
in all directions.
Take a rest, Liv.
I hear you had quite the day,
she says.
It’s pretty clear
that everyone has
talked to each other
about my day
in court.
They look at me
like I might topple over
at any moment.
Mom brings me a bowl
of Elinor’s latest casserole—
ham, cheese, peas, and noodles—
and a glass of water.
They all want to feed me
now.
Where is Clay?
The little animal inside me
has no manners.
It makes a pouty face.
Its birthday
is coming
and Clay has disappeared.
How will it get its
present?
If Clay is really gone,
who will meet me
at the river now,
to tell me the three things
I need to know?
Where are you, Clay?
Where did you go?
And why?
Truth
The door slams
and I hear Rainie
drop her backpack.
There is a loud rumbling
as a car backs out of the driveway.
Rainie comes all the way
into Jonah’s room
for the first time.
She touches her amber
stone of courage.
What’s that thing on Jonah?
she asks.
It helps him breathe, Phoebe says.
Snorkel Man, I say
at the same time.
Snorkel Man doesn’t answer.
He’s busy blowing air—
Whoosha Whoosha Whoosha
I wish I could sleep
with all that noise,
Rainie says.
Rainie watches Phoebe
filling up Food Truck.
She walks around the
living room,
looking at Jonah’s cans of formula,