Rebecca Coleman - Heaven Should Fall

I opened the side door of the Jeep and retrieved the coins and bills, grabbing the plastic shopping bag while I was at it. Inside was a crisp white pharmacy bag. Curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked at the label. Beneath Elias’s name was the word Prozac .

I turned and looked up at Elias’s bedroom window, almost guiltily, as if I’d been nosing around on purpose. It was dark, the shades drawn, but it always looked that way. For a few moments I debated with myself whether to leave or take it, but in the end I tied together the handles of the plastic bag and carried it inside. Quietly I hung it on his bedroom doorknob. And an hour or so later when he awoke, the bag disappeared without a word. For the rest of the day he stayed in his chair in front of the TV, watching Rachael Ray and smoking cigarettes one after the other, as if they were a natural part of breathing.

That evening I walked into our bedroom with a basket full of laundry and found Cade sitting on the side of the bed with his laptop open on the quilt. “Done and done,” he announced. “Registered for my fall classes. Now the countdown begins.”

“How’s that going to work, exactly? I mean, the baby’s due at the same time the semester starts. I could go into labor anytime, and then neither of us is going to be getting any sleep.”

“We’ll make it work. The alternative is being stuck in this dump for three more months, so trust me, I’ll find a way.” He shut the laptop and smiled. “ Ahhh . Feels good just to set up the escape plan. Always chart your course, and you’ll win every time.”

He still didn’t have an escape plan, just a fall schedule, but I didn’t care to point that out to him. “I wouldn’t mind getting away from Dodge, that’s for sure. He won’t shut up about that stupid dishwasher and what he’d like to do to Randy. It kind of freaks me out.”

“He makes noise. Him and Candy both. You can’t take them seriously. I didn’t even realize just how crazy-assed their ideas are until I got away from here.”

“No kidding. She keeps trying to talk to me about how we should leave our family planning up to God.”

He snickered. “Thought it was obvious we already had.”

“She means from here on out.”

He pulled off his uniform shirt and nodded. “Yeah. My idea is to use six forms of birth control from here on out.”

“Well, you know I’m not on board with her plan, either. She calls it ‘quiver-full’ or something, though I’d like to know why she’s only got three kids if she’s leaving the whole thing to the Lord.”

He cast a bemused glance on me. “They’ve probably only had sex three times. Or else Dodge can’t get it up. He sure acts like he’s compensating for something.”

I leaned back against the bed, and Cade gave my belly an affectionate pat as he walked around the room collecting chore clothes. “I need to figure out a way to get prenatal care for this one. There’s got to be some program through the state.”

“No way, we don’t want to mess with any of that. Just find a doctor and we’ll figure it out. Ask Candy. She’s pumped out enough kids to know.”

“Maybe. Hey, speaking of doctors—am I supposed to know that Elias is taking Prozac? Or should I keep pretending I have no idea?”

He popped his head out of the top of a paint-splattered T-shirt. “He’s on what? ”

“Guess I should keep pretending, then.”

Cade squinted in confusion. “Why would he be on that? He’s not depressed about anything. He’s fine.”

“Cade…he loads a gun every night and keeps watch.”

“Well, I can’t throw stones at anybody who takes work home with him. But see, that’s what I hate about those military doctors. It was the same shit when he got that leg injury. They pumped him full of pain pills and put him back on active duty. What he needs is some physical therapy for that leg and someone to make him get up off his ass. And I bet you he’d sleep better at night if he did something to make himself tired during the day. Watching the Food Network doesn’t tire you out. It just makes you hungry, and we can all see that’s the last thing he needs.”

“Maybe it’s all of those things together,” I suggested. “Maybe you’re right, but he’s depressed, too, and just not talking to you about it.”

He balled up his hotel shirt like a basketball and tossed it into the hamper. “You know what the cure for depression is?” he asked. He began ticking off items with his fingers. “Running. Spending time with people. And getting laid. That’s my therapy plan for Elias. I’ll write him a scrip for it.”

“I miss running. I can try to get him to come walking with me during the day, though. Maybe you can get some old friends together over here so he can socialize a little.”

“I can try, yeah. We’ll see what goes. He needs to make an effort, too. He’s got everybody’s phone numbers, same as me.”

“It’s a start. Guess he’s out of luck on the ‘getting laid’ part, though.”

Cade snickered and pulled open the bedroom door. “Story of the poor guy’s life.”

The mistakes I made with Cade, in the measure of things, are small next to the other two. Someone who wanted to criticize me—Randy’s wife, say—would look at that boy and mutter, oh, he’s a spoiled one, he got too light a hand, too prideful a mother. However Cade turned out, whether a body can say he came to be like that on his own, or by me, well—if the worst can be said is I loved him too much, then so be it. So put it on my tombstone.

I wasn’t a young mother when I had Candy, but I sure was naive. Always I’d had it in my mind I’d have six children. Three boys and three girls: that was how I pictured it, and I always felt most likely it would come to pass just that way, because I knew the Lord wants to grant us our righteous desires. Candy came, then Elias and Cade, and I had the next three already named: Eve, Emma Lee and Christopher. But after Cade, with Eddy the way he was, I decided no more. Eve, she almost came twice, but that was not to be.

Among the three who did come, it’s only natural to be most pleased with the one I got right. That was Cade—the child who got good marks, who could hit nearly every ball pitched to him, whose grin could melt your heart. Any mother can tell you which of her children strangers smile on the most. It doesn’t make a mother love that child any more, and yet a body can’t help feeling the pride of it. But Elias was deep and earnest, and I loved him and fretted over him in a special way because of that nature of his, and for being the most like me. I protected him from Eddy’s rages in a way I didn’t with Cade, even though Cade was the baby. Elias cared, and his brother just didn’t. Cade knew from the day he spoke his first word that he was smarter than his father, and he carried himself in a way that showed it. But Elias always had that something deep down, that unsureness that he was all right as a person. So when Eddy yelled at him that he was a fool or a failure, something inside Elias nodded at it like it was a truth, and I couldn’t abide that at all.

Yet it was Candy who most rattled my nerves. Even as a tiny thing, there was something sly about her. She was the one who’d take a cookie from the jar, who’d pick up a penny off the sidewalk, and then deny it seven ways from Sunday even if you told her you wouldn’t be angry. She’d do you a kindness—bring you toast and tea in bed, say, or iron your church dress you’d set aside—but every time you’d get the uneasy feeling she had a secret motive for it. Like she had a backhanded idea and wanted to make it up to you ahead of time.