Is parked
Cody wraps his arm
Around my waist
Kisses my neck
As we make our way down the sidewalk
To where his truck
Is parked
He opens my door
Closes it after me
I climb in
Flip the sun visor down
Squinting into the mirror
Searching for a lash
In my eye
That isn’t there
Pretending this is the reason
For the tears
I catch on my fingertip
Before he climbs in
I wish
I want
But I won’t let myself
Cry
Because probably
Maybe
I’ll have another chance
At Nationals
Next year
Second Half of the Night
It doesn’t take long
To get out of Salida Springs
Off the main street
Into the night
Cody pulls the truck off the road
Into the grass that’s part of the park at the edge of town
He knows I love to hear the creek that runs down its middle
Folks have started pulling water off it for irrigating
Draining the creek thin and quiet
Cody knows I still like it here
Even when I can’t hear
What I know is there
Cody puts the truck in park
Changes the music
To something new
Something slow
I take my seat belt off
Lean into him
As he sits back
In his seat
“I wish you were coming,” he says.
Knees to my chest
I look away
Eyes searching for stars
In the night sky
Thinking about the fact that the stars aren’t even there
Not anymore
Ignoring the tears
Running down my cheeks
While Cody
Just holds me
Lets me
Cry
Empty Saddle
Dad and I
Are making dinner
Lasagna
With noodles of eggplant
When the phone rings
I’m glad
For the distraction
From this meal
That smells
So good
It actually makes my stomach
Growl
Which makes me hate
Myself
For being
So weak
“Can you get that,” Dad asks
As he opens the oven door
To sprinkle a little more cheese
On another meal
I don’t
Want to eat
I nod
Grab the phone
Head into the living room
Before answering
Because I know
Who it is
“I’m going to Nationals! Barrels and pole bending!”
Asia yells
Before I can even say hi
I knew you would!
Trying to match her excitement
With my voice
What about the queen contest?
“Kierra won. I’m so happy for her!”
It’s hard to hear Asia
Over the music
Crackling through the speakers
Above riders
Yelling congratulations to each other
The announcer
Calling out the final standings
“I miss you, Rae! I seriously can’t believe you aren’t here!”
If I were, I’d be giving you a huge hug.
I can hear Cody now
Can picture him riding up behind Asia
As he calls
“Is that Rae? Let me talk to her!”
“Wait!” Asia says
But the telephonic thunk
Of fingers to phone
Tells me
That Cody swiped her phone
“Hey, I miss you, babe.”
Miss you too. How’d you do?
“Silver State.”
I sit down on the couch
Tucking my feet under me
I knew you would.
“Just hold on!”
Cody shouts at Micah
Who wants the key to the tack room
That he has in his back pocket
“Guess I better go. I’ll call you tonight,” Cody says.
Congratulations.
I say again
Not knowing if he hears me
Before hanging up
Quicker than I thought
He would
“How’d everyone do?”
Dad asks
As he comes into the living room
Good.
Fishing the remote from between the cushions
Looking for that show
Some show
Any show
That I can’t wait to watch
Too absorbed in what’s happening on the screen to talk to Dad
About the results of the day
That should have been
Mine
Dad sits down next to me
Takes the remote
Turns up the volume
On this program
Neither of us
Care anything about
Dad puts his arm
Around my shoulders
Pulls me to him
Never taking his eyes from the television
Knowing eye contact
Now
Would simply be
Too much
“This isn’t forever,” Dad says. “There’s always next year.”
I know he’s right
But sometimes I wonder
How I’m going to make it
To next year
When today
Feels like more
Than I can
Handle
Tabitha Twitchet’s Tea Party
It seems like everything revolves around food
I really don’t think it’s me
Being eating-disordered
Because today is another
Day
That revolves around
Food
Or it will be
If I let it
Lacey runs over to the round table in the library
I have claimed
For her and me
She has two paper plates
There’s a sugar cookie on each one
“Isn’t this the best?” Lacey asks.
As she climbs into the chair next to mine
“Did you know I get to take a book home for my own? We pick them at the end. A cookie and a book.”
She says this last part almost to herself
In wonder
But this is an amazing event
Tabitha Twitchet’s Annual Tea Party
A special occasion just for us
The reading buddy pairs
“Here you are, my dears.” Mr. Monroe says.
Grade-school librarian and party host extraordinaire
Sets two cups of chamomile tea in front of us
“Thank you,” Lacey says, peering into her cup.
She waits until he walks away to ask
&nb
sp; “What is this?”
Tea. Like in the book.
Lacey looks at me blankly
The Tale of Tom Kitten?
She shrugs
“He’ll read it to us soon.”
Lacey takes a bite of her cookie and nods
I glance around the room
Ignoring the cookie on my plate
The other reading buddies
Are getting situated
Sitting in twos and fours
With their cookies and their cups of chamomile tea
I didn’t know there were so many reading partners
First-, second-, third-graders all in pairs
With people like me
A few of the reading buddies are in high school
But most are not
They’re older
Grandparent-aged volunteers
I feel as if they’re all looking at me
Like they all know
About the lies I’ve told
The weight I’ve lost
They’re watching me
Waiting to see
If I
Eat
It’s silly
But in a town as small as this
How could they not
Know?
“You’re still going to come though, aren’t you? Even after the party?” Lacey asks.
Her voice pulls me back to reality
Sure. Why wouldn’t I?
Lacey glances around the room
Drops her voice to a whisper
“Some people get a new buddy every year. I was hoping I could keep you.”
Keep me
That’s what she said
This little girl with sun-streaked braids
Sitting beside me in turtle-patched jeans
Able to say what she thinks
Ask for what she wants
“Who’s ready for a story?” Mr. Monroe asks,
Striding to the front of the group
“As you know, Beatrix Potter’s books tend to be a bit on the small side.”
He holds up a pint-sized edition of The Tale of Tom Kitten
“So I’m going to put the pictures on the screen for you to see while I read.”
Mr. Monroe flips off the lights and starts the projector
Lacey reaches over
Grabs my arm
Gives it a pull
Wanting me to move closer
To her
So I do
Without taking her eyes off the screen
And the picture of a little brown kitten
In a blue shirt and pants
She picks up my cookie
Hands it to me
As she nibbles her own
It’s easier somehow
In the dark
That smells like chamomile
To take a bite
First one
Then two
Knowing that someone
My Lacey, our Lacey
Is glad
She gets to keep
Me
Blank Pages
I bought this book
And in it
I write
About the things I can’t talk about
Not even to Blue
Someday I’ll share
Just not
Now
Paper Packages
Books arrive in the mail
Addressed to my dad
Read by him
Passed on
To me
Books about me
For me
So we can better
Understand
This disease
I like them
These books
With the real-life stories
About girls like me
Who have forgotten
How to
Eat
Sometimes these girls
Get better
But other times
They don’t
I wish I could have it
Both ways
Getting well
Staying thin
But I know
I’m going to have
To make
A choice
Reputable Sources
They say it is
Genetics
Perfectionism
Depression
Anxiety
Media
Trauma
A combination
of factors
really
They say it is
An addiction
A disease that devours
Bodies in its path
They say it is
Falling down
Standing up
Trip and fall
Again
They say it is
The nature
of this
Disease
Relapse (inevitable)
They say it is
Worth it
All this work
I’m doing
I hope they are right
About this last part
Anyway
Roundup
We started this morning
Before the sun leaked across the sky
When the steers were stiff and slow with cold
It was like it has always been
Men and women and kids
Slumped up against pickup trucks
Inhaling the steam off their coffee
All in chinks and boots with jingling spurs
Horses tacked up
Lead ropes looped through the slats of the stock trailers
And the dogs zipping in and out of it all
Heeler dogs
Cow-eating machines
And me and Asia
Best friends since forever
First to mount up and be ready to go
Not caring that the calves set for sorting
Won’t wear our brands
We’ll work hard
All the same
To give this family a start
A dad and his girls
Not so new to these parts
Riding into it now
Swinging their ropes ’round
Turning two into three
Kierra and her muscle-thick quarter horse
Working in with Asia and me
As we peel them off
One calf
Sometimes two
Alexi and Lacey
Cheering from the green panel fence
As the ropes start flying
First bull calf of the day
Kierra’s dad and mine
Catch him up
Lay him down
Stretched out lean
Bawling at the smoke rolling off his iron-branded hide
More folks riding into it now
Neighbors-parents-brothers-sisters-aunts-uncles-cousins
It’s all the same today
When even a family that’s just three
Suddenly has more family than they can count
Spread out all around them
Beneath a sky
Breathed blue
Happy Ending
I wish I could tell you
That I’m fine
Better now
That things are back
To the way
They were
But it can’t be
The same
Can’t go back
To the way it was
It
Whoever
I
Was
Because I’m different now
Not better
Not worse
Just
different
Statistics
In the United States, as many as ten million women and one million men are struggling with an eating disorder. Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any mental health condition. The mortality rate associated with anorexia nervosa is twelve times higher than the death rate of all causes of death for females between fifteen and twenty-four years of age.
Unfortunately, treatment for eating disorders is costly, and in many cases, impossible for individuals and their families to access. Only one out of ten people with eating disorders will receive treatment. Of these, only forty percent fully recover.
For more information about eating disorders and their treatment, please visit the National Eating Disorders Association’s website: www.nationaleatingdisorders.org.
Author’s Note
This book is the truest, most important thing I will ever write. I remember thinking I was fat when I was five, wishing my hips and thighs were gone at seven, and feeling powerful when I pushed away from the table in the school cafeteria at twelve. As a teen and later as an adult, I lost jobs. I lost friends. I lost myself.
When I finally realized I needed help, I attempted to admit myself to a treatment facility, but there were problems. I had no insurance, little money, and even less in the way of personal support. After being turned away from one treatment center after another, a door finally opened.
I went to treatment not once, not twice, but three times, emerging stronger and more committed to recovery each time. Today, and every day, I make a choice to eat. I make a choice to participate in life and to take risks. I am a mother, a teacher, and a writer. I am so much more than a disease.
If you are in the throes of an eating disorder, I’d like to say this to you: Don’t give up. Life is glorious, tragic, unpredictable, exciting, and mundane. Life is all those things. Give yourself permission to experience them. You are worth it.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I would like to thank my agent, Sara Scuito. We started with a poem and ended with a book. Your faith in this novel never wavered. Thank you for your patience, gentle prodding, and invaluable insight. I’d also like to thank Annette Pollert-Morgan and the rest of the crew at Sourcebooks. I could not have asked for a truer team to champion Raesha’s story.
It was at Vermont College of Fine Arts that this book first emerged and where I truly learned what it takes to be a writer. Thank you to Alison McGhee and Ron Koertge for your critical eye and encouraging words. Susan Fletcher, had you not suggested I attend the Willamette Writer’s Conference in Portland, I might not have ever found an agent and this book a home. Kathi Appelt, you are an inspiration as not only an author but a teacher. Norma Fox Mazer, you were one of the greats. I owe so much of who I am as a writer to you. Thank you.
The Sky Between You and Me Page 24