From Ant to Eagle(61)

I leaned over the river and started to cry. I watched as my tears fell into a still pool at the side of the river, obscuring the image of my face beneath. I cried for so long I forgot what I was crying about.

Then it happened.

I found him.

Sammy.

One second I was watching my tears fall, the next I was staring into the eyes of my brother. His dark brown hair falling over his forehead, his chubby cheeks dimpling with a smile.

“Sammy!” I said. “Sammy!”

He was trying to say something back to me but I couldn’t hear him.

“What? Oh, I know,” I said, “you want to read a Goosebumps book. Hold on.”

I ran to the tree house and climbed up the ladder. The chest of Goosebumps was in the corner and I looked through it, tossing book after book aside as I tried to find the one that I thought Sammy would want. I couldn’t make up my mind so I grabbed the rope handle on the side of the chest and pulled it toward the ladder. I walked around the other side and pushed it out of the tree house so that it landed with a thud at the bottom that echoed through the trees and sent birds rushing to the sky.

When I had pulled the box all the way from the tree house to the river I sat down again. I reached inside and grabbed the first Goosebumps book I laid my hands on and started to read. I read for ten minutes before putting the book down in my lap and leaning over to check on Sammy.

Only, he wasn’t there anymore. Instead I saw only my stupid refection staring back at me.

“Sammy?!” I yelled, reaching my hand into the water. It was freezing. My reflection vanished for a moment then returned a few seconds later when the water calmed. “Sammy?! Come back!”

I was suddenly furious.

“Sammy, where are you?!”

I looked again but he still wasn’t there. My heart began to race. I felt abandoned. I was panicking.

I stood up and threw the book I’d been reading into the water, hitting my reflection hard so that the water rippled and jumped. When it calmed again it was only me staring back. I reached into the box and grabbed another book. This time I ripped it in half before throwing it into the water. Again, only my reflection returned. I kept reaching into the box, pulling out Goosebumps after Goosebumps, tearing them down the spine, shredding the pages, ripping the covers, then hurling them at my image.

The river became a morgue of floating books. I kept going until there were no Goosebumps left.

I looked back into the water.

Me.

Only me.

Sammy, I thought. Why did we have to look so much alike?





CHAPTER 39

I WALKED BACK TO THE HOUSE, MY BODY STILL TENSE WITH RAGE.

When I heard my parents’ voices coming from the kitchen my anger grew.

They were fighting. They were always fighting. It was like the world was made of flint—everything provided a spark.

“Well, it certainly feels like I’m alone!” I heard Mom yell as I got closer.

“Liz, I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know what you want me to do,” Dad said back, calmer and quieter, but with bitterness.

“I want you to give a damn, that’s what I want. I want you to stop hiding in your office all day, I want you to come to church with us on Sundays, I want you to go see a therapist, I want you to start being a father to your son.”

I reached the house and leaned back against the brick wall, listening to their voices through the kitchen window.

“I’m trying, aren’t I? I read that book you gave me.”

“Twenty pages,” Mom replied, “you read twenty pages.”

“A lot of help those twenty pages were. And what about you? You’re off at your fundraiser meetings every night of the week and that’s okay?”

“At least it gets me out of the house!”

“Maybe I don’t want to leave the house!”

“No, maybe what you want is for me to leave! At least that’s how it feels! If you’re intentionally trying to push me away then just say so! Because at this point, I don’t really think a divorce would be all that different!”

I’d had enough—the fighting, the constant hints at divorce, I’d heard this over and over and over. Every morning before I’d get out of bed, every night before I’d climb back in. It was another reason I left every chance I could. I wanted to be away from it all. I didn’t want Mom to leave—I wanted to leave. I wanted to run away and never come back. But right then, more than anything, I wanted them to shut up.

I bent down and grabbed a rock wedged under the side of the house and took a few steps back. I threw the rock at the kitchen window before I’d really had time to think about what I was doing.

The glass shattered as if it had been struck by lightning and the rock ricocheted off something metal inside.

I didn’t even have time to run before their faces appeared through the broken glass.

“Cal?” Mom said, her voice more surprised than angry.

“Maybe you should just leave!” I yelled. “Or better yet, how about I just leave!”

“Cal—” Dad said, but I didn’t hear anything else. I turned and ran as fast as I could. I ran through the yard and into the dead, frozen fields beyond. I ran until I couldn’t run anymore and then I walked. It was cold out and the sweat I’d worked up from running quickly turned to ice. By the time I arrived at Aleta’s house I was shivering.