Michael Ford - Suicide Notes

Cat Poop started things off by reminding my parents that I would be coming home soon. As in two days. That snapped them out of their moods a little bit. My mother got all smiley and my father kept nodding, like someone had asked him a question and he was answering yes. Amanda hunched down in her seat, chewed on the ends of her hair, and tried to disappear. I think she’s about at the end of her patience with my parents. It’s good that I’m coming home to distract them.

Then Cat Poop started talking about how well I’ve been doing in the hospital and how much progress we’ve made. It was all doctor crap, and I knew he was saying it to make me look healthy and not crazy before I dropped the big bomb on everyone. I was glad he did it, because my parents are really into what doctors have to say about stuff. One could tell them their heads were made out of blue cheese and they’d probably buy it.

Once we’d established the fact that I wasn’t going to go all Amityville Horror on them and kill them in their sleep when I got home, Cat Poop asked me if there was anything I wanted to tell them. That was my cue to spill the news. Only I couldn’t even remember my name right then. It was like everything had gone blank inside my head. I turned into my dad and just started nodding, like I was agreeing with something he had said. I was like this giant bobble-head doll sitting there in the chair nodding, nodding, nodding.

Because I wasn’t saying anything, my mother started talking. She talked about the new curtains she’d put up in my room, and about how much the dog missed me, and how my grandmother was making cookies—chocolate chip cookies—and was going to bring them over when I came home. I sat there and watched her mouth open and close, wondering how she could talk so fast and still breathe.

Then my father started talking, too, saying stuff to my mother like, “Marjorie, Jeff doesn’t care about the curtains” and, to me, “How’d you like to go skiing next weekend?”

They were both talking at once. Cat Poop was trying to interrupt them, but they were ignoring him. The only one not talking besides me was Amanda, so I looked at her and said, “How would you like to have a gay brother?”

Then everyone stopped talking and stared at me. Amanda stopped chewing her hair and sat up. “That would be okay with me,” she said. “Why?”

“Because you do,” I told her.

My mother gave a little gasp. Amanda sat there with her mouth open. My father said, “Sweet Jesus Christ on a biscuit.” I swear to God that’s what he said. Sweet Jesus Christ on a biscuit .

“You’re gay ?” Amanda said, really emphasizing the gay part so that it sounded like the longest word anyone had every said. “As in gay ?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I am.”

My father said the thing about Jesus on a biscuit again and my mother said, “Eric,” like he was five years old. Then she shook her head and said, “I don’t understand. What do you mean you’re gay?”

I thought for a second I was going to have to explain to her what gay meant. Then I realized she thought I was joking, or confused, or maybe both. I guess she thought maybe I didn’t know what gay meant.

“I’m gay,” I said, not sure how else to say it.

“You’re fifteen,” she said. “You can’t be gay.”

“Sure he can,” Amanda said. She sounded all excited, like this was her big chance to show off something she knew that my mother didn’t. “My friend Katrina from dance class’s brother is gay and he’s fifteen.” She looked at me. “Hey, maybe I can set you guys up. Evan is really cute.”

“Jeff,” my mother said, using the tone she gets when she’s about to explain something to you, “you’re too young to know if you’re gay or not.”

“Do you care if I am?” I asked her.

“Of course I care,” she said. “I mean, I don’t care , but I care about you, and if you were gay, then I’d be okay with it.”

“Well, I am,” I said. “So I hope you’re really okay with it and not just saying that.”

My father still hadn’t said anything. He had this look on his face like he was trying to figure out a joke someone had told him and that he knew should be funny but didn’t understand why.

“Dad?” I said. “Are you all right?”

“What?” he said. Then he shook his head, like he was trying to clear it. “So, this gay thing,” he said. “Is that why you, well, you know.” He waved his hands in the air, like he couldn’t think of the words he needed.

I shook my head. “Not really,” I said. “It’s part of it, but it’s not everything.”

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” Cat Poop said, saving me. “I know you all probably have questions for Jeff, and I know there are things he wants to tell you. So let’s just start at the beginning and go from there.”

And that’s what we did. For about four hours. I can’t even remember everything we talked about. There was some yelling, a little crying, and finally a big family hug, which is a miracle all on its own. By the time my parents left, I think they were starting to understand that this isn’t just some phase I’m going through or something I’m doing to get back at them. They don’t get it all yet. Then again, neither do I.

I had a dream about Sadie last night. She and I were walking on a beach, talking about whatever we wanted and having a good time. Then, all of a sudden, she ran into the ocean. I thought she was playing, so I followed her. She was laughing and kept looking back to see if I was behind her.

She started swimming, and I swam after her. She swam way out, and I was afraid we were going too far. I kept calling for her to slow down, but she wouldn’t.

I couldn’t keep up with her, so I stopped swimming and let her get ahead. Finally she stopped and turned around. She called for me to come out to where she was, and I did. When I got there, she said, “Catch me if you can!” and dived down.

I watched her swim beneath me. The water was clear, and I could see her kicking her legs hard and going deeper and deeper, down to where the water turned dark blue. Her hair was floating out around her head, and silver bubbles were coming from her mouth. I took a deep breath and dived after her, trying to catch her.

She turned in the water and waved at me, trying to get me to come deeper. My chest was starting to burn because I was running out of air, and I pointed to the surface to tell her we should go up. She shook her head, and I saw her laugh underwater. Millions of bubbles shot out of her mouth and surrounded me like a net. I couldn’t see. Then I felt a hand grab my foot and pull me down.

I tried to swim up, but that hand was strong. It was Sadie’s hand. Through the bubbles I saw her dragging me into the dark water. She was laughing and laughing. I realized that she wanted to keep going, and she wanted to take me with her.

I kicked as hard as I could, trying to get her hand off my foot. I just kicked and kicked while I clawed at the water. Finally I got free and started to shoot toward the surface. I could see the light shining down, and I reached for it.

I looked down once more and saw Sadie looking up at me. Her face got smaller and smaller as I flew up through the water. She wasn’t smiling anymore. She was just watching me. Watching me leave her under the water.

I woke up when my head broke through the waves. I was gasping, and my chest felt like it was on fire. I looked all around my room, almost expecting to see that I was on a beach and soaking wet.

I don’t know what the dream means. I don’t know why Sadie wanted to try to drown me. I don’t know why she laughed at me like she did. I’m just glad I got away from her.