Authors: Carolee Dean
or else he’s decided I’m not
worth the trouble.
Either way, I’m relieved
when I don’t see him following me.
As soon as I step into the waiting room,
I feel a crushing heaviness
pressing down on me.
I see my father sitting in silence.
His laptop is closed.
His pens put away.
His phone turned off.
“Ally, please don’t go,” he whispers.
“You’re everything I’ve got.”
Nana walks into the waiting room.
“Did you find Alice?”
He nods
and I experience such a sense of relief
that my heart could burst.
The weight of the room
lifts slightly,
and I feel that I can bear it,
bear anything,
as long as Mom is coming
back for me.
Dad has been looking for my mother.
That’s what he’s been doing all this time
when I thought he’d just been trying
to get in a few hours’ work.
He finally gets it.
He understands
that I need to be
with my mother.
Thank you, Dad.
Thank you.
If I could go and live with Mom,
I could start over and forget
about the past few months.
I could clean the slate and
reinvent myself
in a brand-new place.
“When will she get here?” Nana asks.
“She’s not coming,” Dad replies,
and the room becomes as cold as ice.
“Did you tell her Ally might die?”
I hold my breath.
He nods his head.
And then he does something
I’ve never seen him do.
He cries.
“She made such a scene when she left,” he says.
“And Ally has hated me ever since.
She never intended to take her, but she told her
to start packing. Why would she do that?”
Nana says,
“She was acting.”
First my hands,
then my arms,
then my feet.
Turning into mist
as thin as air.
I can’t stay here one minute more.
There’s not a single place for me.
Not at school.
Not at home.
Not in New York City.
There’s only one place
where I belong.
I guess I’ve known that
all along.
The hallway.
and says,
“Don’t go
back to that place.”
Now it’s my heart
vanishing into nothingness.
All the pain is gone
and the call
of the hallway
is inviting.
He says, “The pain won’t last,
but death is
forever
.
Walk through the pain, Ally.
Don’t turn away.”
“You’re wrong, Elijah.
Death is
never
having to face
the truth.”
The sooner I’m gone,
the sooner everybody can
move on.
And I feel the emptiness
in my mouth
and in my brain.
I’m back
on the hall,
where I’m safe
and nothing hurts.
Where I’m not destined
to be a person with brain damage
or a disappointment to the people I love.
The Hangman is sitting on the tiled bench,
waiting patiently for my return.
“I warned you,” he says.
“It’s a cruel world out there.”
“I know,” I tell him.
“If you go back, the best that world
can offer you is a life like Oscar’s.”
He’s making it up.
I’m pretty sure he can’t tell the future.
And I could argue that I might
turn out like Elijah,
but is he really happy?
Is anyone?
“Besides,” he continues,
“if you return to your
old life, it might be worse than before.
If you jumped off another building,
or put a gun to your head,
or slit your wrists,
you might not make it back here.
Let’s face it, you didn’t exactly
complete the job the first time.
This is a very special place.
A lot of people try to come here
but botch the job.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t be
going out there again.”
“That’s good.
It’s better for everyone that way.”
Remember
when you
steal the pills,
turn on the gas,
sharpen the blade.
Consider
as you walk
that line,
you think that
you’ve
made up
your mind.
When you set
your pen
on the page
and tell the world
your last
good-bye.
Then place the gun
against your head
or take the plunge
or slip the knot.
Remember this
before you shoot
before you leap
before you drive.
You’re gonna make
a mess of things
a wreck of things
you’ll break some hearts.
You’ll definitely
destroy some lives.
But there’s no
guarantee
you will die.
I remember
when I was six years old and my mother left my father
for the first time. She threw our clothes in a laundry basket,
put the foldout couch in a U-Haul trailer, and we drove
away, watching him standing alone in the driveway.
I remember
Mom telling me that as soon as she saved enough money,
she was quitting her job and we were moving to California.
She said I looked just like a little Scarlett Johansson,
and maybe when Mom got in the movies, I could
get in the movies too.
I remember
my mother had a hard time making it to work in the mornings
and we lost the electricity because she couldn’t pay the bills.
We ate mac and cheese every night because it was cheap,
but she always seemed to have money for booze.
I remember
the night we got kicked out of our apartment and we went
back home to Dad because we didn’t have anyplace else
to go. I remember the look of relief in my father’s eyes
and the look of defeat in my mother’s.
I remember
her saying she was sorry,
but she didn’t sound sorry.
I remember
Dad saying it was okay,
but he didn’t sound okay.
I don’t remember
anyone mentioning
love.
The Hangman says
if I stay here
long enough,
I won’t remember
anything at all.
I remember the night I almost died.
I went out to the old football field
looking down on the new stadium,
because it was the last place
I remembered being happy.
My brother, Frankie,
used to take me up there
to watch the football games so
we wouldn’t have to pay
the admission fee.
Just him and me.
Drinking hot chocolate
and listening to the tunes
of The Fray
coming from the CD player
in his Camaro,
which he drove right up
onto the old field
so if we got cold,
we’d have a warm place to go.
Even when he started dating Pam,
he still reserved Friday nights for
football with his little bro.
Just him and me.
When I went up there
on the hill that night,
with the bottle of pills,
my boom box,
and Frankie’s CD,
all I really wanted
was another chance to be
with him.
Just him and me
and eternity.
So I fell asleep to the tune of
“How to Save a Life.”
But when I opened my eyes,
there was still only me.
walking by wearing a rebel uniform.
He was barefoot and his head was bleeding.
“How did you get here?” he asked me.
“I took a bottle of pills.”
“Then you need to go to the hallway.”
He pointed at the Humanities Building
as his friends set up cannons
and sharpened their daggers.
I ran all the way to the quad and up the stairs,
hoping to find Frankie, but he wasn’t there.
Frank, I wasn’t jealous when you said
you’d fallen for a girl whose name was Pam,
even though it complicated plans
we’d been making all our lives. You said
if you went to State, then you could live
at home and I wouldn’t be alone
with Mom and Dad and nothing but the booze
to buffer all their unpredictable moods.
I’d watch Pam kiss you, watch how you would
stare into each other’s eyes and then
she’d touch your skin like it was made of gold.
I never had a moment of envy
because I hoped there would come a day
when a girl I loved looked at me that way.
Please tell me, big bro, what am I to do,
give all my heart to love? What happens if
Ally laughs at me or calls me “freak”?
It’s happened in the past. You know it’s true.
Besides, I’ve seen the way she looks at him.
Davis Connor is the one she wants.
He treats her like a puppy on a leash,
but she just keeps on licking at his feet.
I heard the rumors going round the school.
I’ve seen the pictures, but I pressed delete.
I know she’s been with Will, but I don’t care.
Does that make me some kind of puppy too?
And if by some miracle, she loved me back,
could it work out, or would I end up like you?
When the next bell rings
I see Megan walk out onto the quad
and stand by the grass, expectant,
waiting for someone.
Darla Johnson comes out
of the gym and Megan
waves eagerly.
Darla turns and goes
in the other direction.
Megan won’t take the hint
and hurries up behind her.
I see Darla mouth the words
Go away.
There’s a look of
panic in Megan’s eyes.
She’s been kicked
out of the club and
she doesn’t know why.
There’s also the knowledge
that Darla could destroy
her. Darla seems to read
her mind, or maybe it’s just
a general observation she’s
making when she says,
You’re not worth the trouble.
Megan sits on a bench
out on the quad and cries.
She’s completely alone.
It serves her right.
I feel vindicated
for about two seconds.
Then I just feel bad for her.
For some reason I think about
the fact that she and Bri
were best friends
in second grade.
Then I remember
the tryouts for
Grease
in sixth.
Megan went out for the lead.
She’d never been in a single play
in her life, but she had the most beautiful
singing voice I’d ever heard. I was so afraid
she’d get the part of Sandy that I couldn’t sleep for two days.
But I came up with a solution.
One afternoon after drama class,
I was helping Ms. Smythe put away props
when I told her,
“You should give the lead to Megan.”
Ms. Smythe looked at me in surprise.
“Why is that?”
“Because her mother is dying.
It might help cheer Megan up.”
“I see,” said Ms. Smythe, looking grave.
“But I’d hate to add to the pressure
she must be under.”
The next day when the roles were posted,
I got the part of Sandy, and Megan got
the part of one of the Pink Ladies.
Megan’s mother died a month later,
and she missed all the dress rehearsals.
I’d done the right thing by telling
Ms. Smythe about her mother. I really had.
But for all the wrong reasons.
On opening night
I started crying uncontrollably
in the dressing room.
Brianna was the stage manager,
but she didn’t know what to say
to console me.
I couldn’t tell her what I’d done,
or she would hate me forever,
so I asked her to call my mother
out of the audience.
After Mom shut the door,
I confessed everything.
I knew she was the one person
who would understand.
She wrapped me in her arms
and I remember she smelled
like lilacs.
“You did that poor girl a favor,”
she told me.
“Now use that emotion.
Don’t let it go to waste.
Get out there and sing your heart out.
Do it for Megan.”
Mom always knew just what to say.
I instantly felt better,
and when I went out on the stage,
I gave the performance
of a lifetime.
As for Megan,
she barely remembered
her lines,
and she never tried out
for another school play.
what kind of girl
I really was.
The kind who would step
on her friends to get to the top.
The kind who would sleep
with a guy just because
she wanted to feel desired.
The kind