to stop bobbing in my throat.
Due Date
“The due date is the 28th,” says Mom.
I nod.
I was right about the star on the calendar.
“But that doesn’t mean
the baby will for sure
come on that day.”
“When will it?” Dale asks.
Mom shrugs.
“We’ll see.”
But I don’t think I want to!
The New Room
Mom gives us a smile that wiggles on and off.
“I’ve started to empty the office.”
Dad’s office, she means.
Behind the closed door.
The room we never go into,
me or Dale
or even her.
We ignore it.
Till now, maybe.
She goes on. “I’m picking up
a few things from garage sales.”
“Oh,” says Dale. “Is it going to be
the baby’s room, then?”
“Duh, Doozerdude.”
“Estele.” Mom sighs.
“Yes, it’s going to be the baby’s room.”
“Well, we’d better clean the curtains, Mom,” I say, “because there’s roach casings
stuck on them.”
Mom grimaces.
“Gross-out! I’ll do that!” says Doozerdude.
He would.
Worried
Even if
Ms. Ruthie is going to be the labor partner,
that still means that
afterward,
the baby’s coming to our house.
We are barely okay now
with the church’s help.
How are we going to take care
of a baby?
There’s so much to do
for babies.
So much they need.
Always crying,
wet diapers,
dirty diapers,
more crying.
Wally told me all about it
when his kid sister was born.
Yuck.
And then there’s that thing
he said
about how big kids disappear
once the baby comes.
“Go on, Estele.”
I look over at Mom.
“Get to class, sweetheart.”
I jump out of the car.
“Bye, Mom.”
“Bye.”
She drives away.
That baby
can’t come so soon.
Ancient Rome
“And Romulus and Remus
were fed by the wolf,” says Ms. Dryden.
That
is a total creep-out.
“See the sculpture on page seventy-one, class?”
Yup.
There’s the wolf nursing two babies.
Some boys giggle.
“Don’t be so immature,” says Jarin.
Really.
They shut up.
Ms. Dryden sees my hand.
“Yes, Essie.”
“It’s kinda like Mowgli
in the jungle.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
Maybe if a wolf can take care of two babies,
we could,
maybe,
take care
of one.
M. Y. O. B.
“See you at the play, Es!”
“See you!”
Wally runs to his mom’s car.
She waves at me,
and I wave back.
“What play is he talking about?”
Dale’s backpack thumps my leg.
“M. Y. O. B.”
“Huh?”
“Mind your own business.”
“Come on, Es, what play?”
I sigh. “I’m going to see Wally
in a scene from The Odyssey.
You’d know nothing about it.”
He thinks a minute,
scratching his armpit.
“Isn’t that the story with the guy
and the Trojan War and stuff?”
Man. How does he know that?
“I saw a cartoon on it once.”
“Whatever.” I shrug.
Sounds like
he knows more than me.
No way
am I going to let him know it.
Recovery
After three surgeries,
tons of medicines,
lots of IVs,
and a bunch of food,
Chris gets to go home.
He won’t be back to school
for a while,
but still
he gets to go home.
The news shows him
being wheeled out of the hospital,
standing up,
and getting into their car.
Except for the bandage
around his head
as I remember.
Cool
“That was way cool
with the bandages.”
I stare at Dale.
“Didn’t you see him, Es?”
“I saw him.”
“Well, wasn’t it cool the way he looked
all bandaged like he was in a war
or something?”
“No.”
“Oh, come on. Mom,
do you have an old pillowcase
I can tear up and tie around my head?”
He runs off to the kitchen
looking for her.
Boys are such weirdos.
Maybe the baby
will be a girl.
Perfect
What was it like
when Chris got home?
What was it like
for his family
to be whole again?
What was it like?
What would it be like
for us?
Really Coming
The door is wide open.
Wow. Mom has done a ton.
The desk is gone.
Someone from church
must have hauled it away for her.
And the file cabinets.
Just a little bassinet,
a small dresser,
and a rocking chair are here.
I check the back of the curtains.
Clean.
That’s a relief.
I slide open a drawer.
All the little clothes from the church
are folded neatly in rows.
Little sheets, next drawer down.
I push it closed
and sit in the rocker.
This baby is really coming.
The Play
Mr. and Mrs. Bridgeham
pick me up after dinner.
They have on pretty fancy clothes.
I straighten my church dress
and look around them for Wally.
“Oh, Wally’s already at the auditorium.”
Mr. Bridgeham smiles.
“He needed extra time for costume
and makeup.”
“Yeah. Now I remember
he told me he’d need to go early.”
I hug Mom good-bye.
“Thank you for taking Estele,”
she says.
“Our pleasure,” they answer together.
Dale pokes his head around Mom.
“Have fun, Es!”
“Thanks!” I call back.
“What a sweet little brother,”
says Mrs. Bridgeham as we climb into
their big car.
Just As Much
The drive is smoother than the leathery backseat.
Mr. Bridgeham looks away from the road
to glance at me.
“Isn’t it just wonderful news about Chris
going home today?”
“Yeah. I mean yes.”
Mrs. Bridgeham’s hands flutter
around her fac
e.
“I don’t know what we’d do
if either
of our children were taken.”
“Let’s not even imagine it, Florina.”
Mr. Bridgeham grips the steering wheel.
“Should I check on the sitter, Walter?”
“No, I’m sure she and Wilhelmina are fine.
Let’s focus on Wally and enjoy the evening.”
“You’re right.”
She puts the cell phone down.
We ride in silence
the rest of the way.
Yep.
They love Wally
just as much
as Wilhelmina.
Cyclops
Wally is awesome,
thumping around
with his one scary eyeball
and that giant club.
When Odysseus begs to be treated kindly
for the sake of the god Zeus,
Wally laughs and says he doesn’t care
about gods!
But when his eye gets poked out,
the other Cyclopses say it’s
punishment from the gods.
And when Odysseus leaves the island,
shouting that Cyclops has been punished,
Wally moans and calls on the god Poseidon
for revenge.
But the play ends
and I don’t get to see what happens next.
Does Odysseus make it home
on his own or do the gods stop him?
Cyclops said he didn’t care about gods,
but then he called on one
when he needed to.
Huh.
I’ll have to get the book
to find out the rest of the story.
The curtain drops,
and Wally pushes through the crowd
to the three of us.
“Hey, Es! Mom! Dad!”
He gives them a hug.
The big, wobbly, punched-out eye
stares at me,
but Wally’s big grin
is behind it.
Show’s Over
Mr. Bridgeham pulls the car
out of the crowded lot.
“You were awesome, Wally!” I say again.
“Thanks!”
“We are so proud of you,” says Mrs. Bridgeham.
“Yes, we are,” agrees his dad.
I lean forward.
“Thanks for taking me home, Mr. Bridgeham.”
“No problem.”
I turn to Wally.
“Hey, did you know
Chris went home today?”
“Really?” Wally asks.
“Yeah. And I counted.
It’s exactly
eight weeks from the kidnapping.”
“Cool!”
Chris fought his giant
and made the long journey home.
God blessed him,
that’s for sure.
Even if now
he looks more
like Cyclops
than Odysseus.
Hopefully God will punish
his kidnapper some worse way
whether he believes in Him or not.
Are Mr. Paul and Dad praying
like Cyclops too?
Take Care
“Thanks again for the ride,” I call out.
“You take care of your mother, Estele.”
Mrs. Bridgeham leans out her window.
“When is the baby due?”
“The 28th.” I rub my goose-bumped arms.
“Take extra care then.”
“Right.”
“Bye,” the three of them call.
I wave
and go inside to find Mom.
Waiting
Days
Nights
Days
Nights
School
Home
Days
Nights
Waiting
for a baby
who is coming
any second
and
freaking me out.
Due Day
We all hold our breath
the whole day
on the 28th.
But nothing.
The baby doesn’t come out.
We do the usual stuff,
without thinking
of anything else but
baby, baby, baby.
Now?
Nope.
Now?
Nope.
Like Ms. Ruthie says,
nothing the whole livelong day.
I cross through the square
on the calendar
What
a relief!
Watching Them Over My Book
“But why didn’t it come today?” Dale whines.
“It’s not time,” says Mom.
“But why not?”
“Believe me, Dale-o,
no one wants this baby born
more than me.”
“So? Why not today?
Today was the due date.”
“This baby will come on God’s due date,
and we’ll just have to wait and see
when that is.”
“Okay.” Dale lets out a giant sigh
and drives his ambulance
over her belly.
Mom Saw
Mom slices the onion.
We sniffle.
“I went to the mall
while you were in school today.”
“Yeah.”
“To get out of the heat.”
Her knife thunks through the onion.
She wipes her eyes on her shoulder.
“While I was at the drinking fountain
I looked across the hall
and saw your dad
kissing the clerk
at the Caribbean Juicies counter.”
“What?”
“I did.”
“Mom!”
She scrapes the onion into the frying pan.
Sizzzzzzle.
“What did you say to him?”
“Nothing. I left
without him seeing me.”
She yanks two tissues from the box
and hands me one.
We blow our noses.
But my eyes keep tearing.
Mom stirs the onions.
I hug her from behind.
The baby rolls under my hands.
Dad is never coming back.
We know that
absolutely.
“It’s okay, Mom.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
“It doesn’t matter.
We are still beautiful and precious.”
Overheard
“I can’t believe it, Ruthie.
She looked like twenty-four or something.
Tall and blond.”
Mom spits the words into the phone.
Like acid.
“You tell me.”
I peek around the corner.
She’s rubbing her back.
“I know it. And I’m the one
that has to tell the kids….
Yes, they have a right to know.”
Dad
makes me sick.
But at least we know.
Daughter
Does the Caribbean Juicies lady
have a daughter?
Is she cuter or smarter than me?
Does he
love her?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
I’m still me.
Estele Leann Sherman.
Dale’s Baseball Magazine
First—he left.
Second—divorce papers.
Third—Mom sees him with someone else.
Three strikes.
He’s out.
Game over.
Me Neither
Dale stands in my doorway,
twisting Izzy’s rubber tail.
“Es.”
“Yeah.” I sit up in bed.
Twist, twist.
“You are going to break that off,
Doozerdude.”
He nods and pulls Izzy to his chest.
“Mommy said Daddy has a new friend.”
“Yeah, he does.”
“Is she going to be a new mommy for us, Es?”
I sigh. “Who knows?”
“Well,” he says, and he kisses Izzy’s head,
“I don’t want another one.”
“Me neither.”
“Good.” He grins and
trots down to his room.
Like us both thinking that
will stop it from ever happening.
At least he thinks so.
Go!
I pass Jarin.
“Go, Essie!” Wally yells from the side.
I race harder
and focus on the palmetto bush
at the end
of the fifty-yard dash.
My fists pump.
My legs stretch farther
with each stride.
My toes spring
off the track.
I’m past everyone.
I’m racing out front
alone.
Winning.
Feeling Sorry for Her
I wipe my forehead
on my sleeve.
“You were great!” Wally says.
I smile and shrug,
and he gives me
a high five.
“Like, my shoe was loose”—
Jarin pulls out her ponytail holder—
“and that really slowed me down.”
Gary nods.
“So I gave up halfway.”
Jarin is totally wet from sweat.
She is so lying.
Making her own self
a victim.
“Good race, Jarin.”
I give her a high five.
“Thanks.” she murmurs
and stops her lame
excuses.
Proof
“Look, Essie.” says Ms. Dryden.
“Your headaches have slowed down.
My calendar proves it.”
“Yeah.”
Somehow
the railroad spike
that was being hammered in
slipped out.
When did that happen?
Inside
The rain starts to thrum
so heavy
on the roof
that we can’t go back out for recess.
The boys are shooting
paper footballs.
“Goal!”
The girls are in little groups
talking.
I’m sitting in the middle of everything,
listening to the rain
thrumming
on the roof,
washing,
beating,
everything
clean.
How Will We Not?
Before we go home for the weekend,
Ms. Dryden says,
“Chris will come back
Monday.”
“Whoo-hoo!” everyone cheers.
“We need to make him feel welcome,
to talk to him,
to be kind,
and most importantly.”
Ms. Dryden says,
“don’t stare.”
Finally on the News
A man arrested today confessed to the kidnapping of Chris Crow. Kidnapping Chris was an act of revenge, he said. The accused blames Carl Crow’s “poor defense” for his conviction in an assault and robbery case in 1995. After losing the case, the accused spent years in prison plotting his revenge.