Tilt (47 page)

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Authors: Ellen Hopkins

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Okay, I get that she didn’t
have a support system. Still,
“You said not at first. What
about later?” Did you miss her?
Later I regretted my decision.
She turns toward Mom.
I’m sorry
I wasn’t stronger.
The whole truth.
Tia

The Whole Truth

Is like a big old spoonful

of cough syrup. Hard to

gag down, but necessary.

I had absolutely

no

clue that I had a sister

somewhere. You’d think

Mom would want me

to have that kind of

information,

if only to avoid a surprise

of this magnitude. I came

here, convinced it was

a scam, and it still

might be,

but what’s become crystal

clear is that she and I

are related. What I don’t

know is if that’s good or

a really bad thing.

Shane

Bad Things

Happen to good people.
Isn’t that what they say?
What I’m confused about
is why. Hey, all-powerful Dude
in the sky! Why? I asked
Mom why God let Shelby live
at all, if this was the most
He was going to allow her.
I can’t speak for God,
she said.
But I have thought long and hard
about this. Shelby has given us
a glimpse of human perfection,
because inside that flawed
body is a spirit untouched
by greed or artifice or hatred.
Shelby is the essence of love.
And so maybe the reason for
her short time here is to show
us how we might love better.
My first thought was “sermon.”
But later I noticed Dad join
Mom on the deck, watching
the city light up against
a falling curtain of night.
He put his arm around her
shoulder. Said something
I couldn’t hear. And then
they kissed. Gently at first,
then with passion, something
I thought was long dead to them.
So maybe Mom was right.
Maybe Shelby’s mission
was to teach us to love better.
It Is Early Morning
The light through the glass
is pallid. Weak, and yet enough
to wake me here on the couch,
where Gram and I talked long into
the night with Aunt Andrea.
Planning for after. Yes, there will
be an after. Calls to make:
the funeral home
relatives
friends
acquaintances
Beyond that, there is Dad’s request
that Shelby’s room be emptied,
boxed
scrubbed
painted
carpet replaced
All these things whirl around in
my head. And then I hear,
no
no
sobbing
weeping.
In the Recliner
Aunt Andrea stirs from her dreams.
Gram comes from the kitchen.
None of us hurries. We know there
is no reason, and Mom and Dad
deserve a few private minutes
of mourning. I don’t have to look
through her door to know Shelby
is gone. It’s like her energy was sucked
from her room, leaving us all in
a vacuum. Conflicting emotions
tug-of-war inside my head, my heart.
Shock.       Certainty.
Grief.       Relief.
Joy at her escape to freedom.      Anger at what might have been.
Gram Goes to Make the First Call
This early on a holiday morning,
an answering service person is
the first one to hear that Shelby
has died. The funeral parlor
director is doing his Labor Day
thing. It will take a while for
someone to come collect my
sister’s shell. Meanwhile, Mom
refuses to let go of her hand.
Why is she getting so cool?
I don’t want her to be cold.
I have to keep her warm.
I want to help Mom, but have no
idea how. I want to put my arm
around Dad, cry into his shoulder.
But we haven’t shared that kind
of intimacy since I was a little boy.
And anyway, he’s propping up Mom.
Death Is Awkward
Despite all the talking, all the planning,
no one really knows what to
do
. I glance
around the room at all the specialized
equipment we won’t need anymore.
For years, it’s been the heartbeat
of this house. It has been silenced.
The hush is stunning. Finally, Gram
asks,
Did you note the time of death?
We were instructed to write it down
for the death certificate. Mom shakes
her head, but Dad says,
Six thirty-eight
a.m.
None of us asks if he’s sure. What
does it really matter, anyway? I want
to call Alex, but it’s so very early.
I can’t do anything more in here, though,
so I go into the living room. Outside
the sliding glass doors, storm clouds
simmer up, black over the hills. Fitting.
It Is Ten A.M.
Before they arrive with a gurney.
Shelb’s last trip in a stander of sorts.
I smile,
thinking about the times
Alex and I pushed her back
and forth between us.
I cry,
remembering the cruel words
“retard” and “alien.”
I wonder
for not exactly the first time
how much Shelby was aware

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