See You at Harry's(29)

But my mom doesn’t respond. She just cries harder into Charlie’s quiet face.

“Call 911!” Sara yells at me. “Don’t just stand there!”

“I already called,” Holden says quietly, just as we begin to hear sirens in the distance.

Sara looks back at my mom and Charlie.

She touches him again, sobbing. “No! No!’

I know what it means.

Holden moves past us and goes down the stairs. We hear his panicked voice shouting to someone outside. Then the thud of heavy feet coming through the house and up the stairs. Someone pulls me back out of the doorway. I lean against the wall in the hall, and I realize I still have my backpack on. I slip it off and slide to the floor. I can’t feel anything but my twisted-up heart, squeezing, squeezing. Everything around me is loud and pounding. My mom is sobbing. Then screaming. Then sobbing. Soothing voices from the EMTs. Questions. I hug my knees to my chest.

Charlie. Oh, Charlie. Please be OK.

But the more time goes by, the quieter the voices get. And I know. I know he’s gone. As my mother’s cries turn to whimpers, I can’t stand it anymore.

I get up.

And I run.





I RUN WITHOUT THINKING where I’m going. Halfway to nowhere I stop and throw up. Up and up and up, as if my heart is coming up out of my chest. Up and up until I am doubled over and hurling in pain but not crying. Not crying.

Not crying because that would mean . . .

That would mean . . .

I wipe my mouth with my sleeve and find my way to the pine cave. But instead of going under, I start to pull on the branches. I break one, then two. I kick the trunk and feel the pain sear through my leg and up to my stomach. But then a numbness takes over. And there’s a ringing in my ears. No no no no no.

I push the palms of my hands against my ears to shut it out. The lights from the ambulance in the driveway flash on and on. I close my eyes and finally sink down onto the cold ground. Pine needles stick to the palms of my hands. I squeeze my knees to my chest and make myself a stone, but I can’t escape myself. Can’t escape the truth creeping into my chest where my heart used to be. I keep shaking my head against it, but the truth is filling me up so fast I can’t breathe.

There’s a beeping sound as the ambulance backs up. I can see Holden and Sara standing in the driveway, watching them take Charlie away.

I listen to the motor get farther away until it’s gone, and the door to the house slams shut, and the neighborhood goes from quiet to busy as the commuters leave home for another workday. I hear the school bus stop in the distance and pull away again.

And then, after a long, long time, I hear someone calling my name.





HOLDEN’S FEET APPEAR near a broken branch. His shoes aren’t tied.

“Fern,” he finally says. “You have to come home.”

But I don’t move.

“Fern. Now.”

His knees bend, and then his face pokes in. It’s swollen from crying.

“Come on.”

But it takes his hand reaching for mine and pulling me out to get me to move.

When we reach the front door, he lets go of my hand.

“They said they think it was something called an epidural hematoma,” he says quietly. “Some kind of blood clot in his brain or . . . I don’t know. They don’t think he felt any pain.”

And he walks into the house, leaving me on the doorstep.

I don’t know what an epidural hema-whatever is. All I can picture is Charlie. Charlie in his bed this morning, the covers pulled up so all I could see was his curly hair. And Doll, sitting on the pillow next to his head, where she always keeps watch.

Stepping inside the house feels like walking into darkness. Holden and Sara are both sitting on the couch. Holden stares at the coffee table. Sara is crying into a pillow. I slowly walk to the empty oversize armchair that only my mom sits in, usually with Charlie curled up in her lap. When I sink into the chair, I feel myself waiting for him to come tearing into the room. “That’s Mommy’s chair!” he would yell, then crawl into my lap and pretend I was Mom. I close my eyes and wait for him to come. Wait for his sharp baby voice. For the brush of his stinky hair on my face. For the smell of Doll as he makes room for her next to me. For the feel of his pudgy hands squeezing my wrist. And his voice, “Read to me, Ferny. I love you, Ferny,” as he snuggles his head into my neck and reaches for my ear.

I wait and wait. But my lap stays empty.

Everything is empty.





LATER, THE FRONT DOOR OPENS, and my dad and mom walk in. My dad has his arm around my mom’s waist. Sara and Holden both stand up to go to her, but my dad waves them off and leads her through the living room and up the stairs. When he comes back down, he sits next to Holden and puts his hand on his knee. He breathes in and opens his mouth as if he’s about to speak, but nothing comes out. Sara moves closer to him and leans into his side. He puts his free arm around her and makes a choking sound.

Sara lifts her head and looks at my dad. “Why?” she asks.

My dad shakes his head. His voice is so quiet, it’s like a whisper. “They think that whatever happened is related to when he fell yesterday.”

Flashes of Charlie lying so still on the pavement flick through my mind. How he looked up at me through his tears. But then he jumped right up! He was fine!