Kathryn Erskine - Mockingbird

I wonder if putting a whole face together would help bring me closer to Closure. If it’s split apart into pieces then wouldn’t putting all the pieces together bring Closure? But I’ve never done a whole face before. I don’t want to mess it up. It has to be right.

I hear Dad turning off Fox Five News and sighing. I remember what Mrs. Brook said about practicing empathy and I go into the living room and look at Dad’s shoes.

Hi Dad.

Hi Caitlin.

I’m not sure what to say next. His shoes don’t give me any clues. Um… so how are you?

Dad looks up from the sofa. Actually I’m dealing with a lot of stuff right now.

Oh. Are you looking for Closure?

In a way. Yes.

Me too. Maybe you can come see Mrs. Brook. She said you could do that sometimes even though mostly she has to see the kids at school.

Dad nods.

Maybe you could see someone else too.

Dad doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even nod.

Maybe you could find some answers in books.

Thanks Caitlin. I appreciate it but I’ll figure out a way.

When?

I don’t know. I think it’ll take a long long time.

How are you going to do it?

I don’t even know where to begin. He stares at the rug.

Even when the phone rings.

Phone, I tell him.

It rings again. Phone.

And again. PHONE, I say LOUD in case he didn’t hear.

Please answer it, he says.

I get a recess feeling in my stomach. I hate answering the phone. I don’t know who it will be or what they will say.

The phone rings two more times.

CAITLIN PLEASE!

I run to the phone and grab it because I hate shouting even worse than the phone. At least you can hang up the phone.

Hello, says the voice. Hello?

It sounds like Aunt Jolee.

Is anyone there?

Dad and I are here, I say.

Oh Caitlin! It’s you. Hi!

I wait for her to talk more.

Are you still there?

Yes.

Oh. I wasn’t sure because you weren’t talking.

That’s because you were talking and it’s rude to talk when someone else is talking.

Oh… well… so… what are you up to?

Talking on the phone. With you.

Can I speak with your dad?

I look at the sofa. Dad is still staring at the spot on the rug. He’s dealing with a lot of stuff right now. But he won’t read any books about it or go see Mrs. Brook or any other counselor.

Dad looks up from the sofa. Who is it?

Aunt Jolee. I think. Wait. Is this Aunt Jolee?

Yup! You guessed!

It’s Aunt Jolee.

He oofs like all the air goes out of him when he stands up and reaches for the phone.

I give it to him.

He leans against the wall. Hi Jo-Jo.

Jo-Jo is Dad’s name for Aunt Jolee. It’s a nickname. Like Scout. Dad is Aunt Jolee’s big brother. Like Jem. Like Devon. Like Devon WAS. Dad still has Aunt Jolee’s finger-painted handprint from when she was in kindergarten. It’s in a little blue frame on the wall by the TV. It says TO HARE on it because when she was five she wasn’t very smart and couldn’t spell Dad’s name the right way which is Harry.

Dad shakes his head while he talks to Aunt Jolee. I can’t afford to see a counselor.

Silence.

What insurance? I don’t have any insurance.

Silence.

Do you know how much it costs to see a counselor?

Silence.

Even clinics charge something unless you make no money at all and I’m not quitting my job just so I can see a counselor.

Silence.

Yes I’m sure it’d help her but she’s got the counselor at school at least. I don’t know what else to do.

Silence.

I know Jo-Jo. Of course you can’t leave them. They’re too young. Dad is nodding . I wish you lived closer too. You’re still my best… friend. When he says the word friend a cry comes out of him.

He slides down the wall and sits on the floor. He drops his head and tries to cover it with the hand that’s not holding the phone but I can see his head shaking along with his hand and the phone. I can hear him sniffing too. Then he takes a deep breath and looks up at Aunt Jolee’s handprint on the wall and says, Thank you.

I try not to listen to Dad because I’ve had all the empathy I can take right now. Empathy can make you feel really sad.

I put my head under the sofa cushion and peek out at Devon’s chest.

I hear Dad say Thank you again.

I keep staring at Devon’s chest because it makes me feel like a little bit of him is still here. Even though I know he’ll never be able to teach me how to make a chest. Even though he won’t be able to teach me anything. Even though I’ll never see him again and won’t ever be able to look at him and say, Thank you.

The more I look at the chest the more I start turning it from a sharp-shaped sheet into something soft. I guess I’m stuffed-animaling even though I don’t mean to. It’s easy when your eyes are already blurry.

THE REST OF THE CLASS RUNS out of the classroom to go to recess. I get up to go to Mrs. Brook time and I decide to ask her if Dad can come see her since she doesn’t charge insurance. At least she never charges me insurance. And she said she could see him even though he’s a grown-up.

Mrs. Johnson says, Oh Caitlin. I almost forgot. Mrs. Brook isn’t here.

I know. She’s in her room.

No. She had to go out of town.

Why?

Her sister is having difficulty with her pregnancy.

I Look At The Person.

Mrs. Johnson looks at the floor and then at me. She’s having a lot of trouble with her twin babies who aren’t born yet.

I thought babies were only a lot of trouble after they were born.

Sometimes it’s before and after. So Mrs. Brook is going to see what she can do to help her sister. She sighs. I hope everything goes well.

I wonder what that means. What if it doesn’t?

I just mean I hope the babies… are fine.

What if they’re not? What’ll be wrong with them?

I’m sure they’ll be fine. Pregnancy is just… hard.

How does she know? Are you pregnant?

Mrs. Johnson’s face turns pinkish. N-no.

I don’t want to be pregnant either, I say . I have enough hard things to Deal With.

Mrs. Johnson lets me sit in the classroom instead of going to recess. She gives me paper so I can draw. I decide to draw a picture for Mrs. Brook of some stuffed animals looking at the Facial Expressions Chart because I have that chart memorized.

Mrs. Johnson says I should write a letter to Mrs. Brook to go with my drawing. I sigh because I’d rather draw but Mrs. Johnson Looks At The Person hard so I write the letter even though I’m much better at drawing than writing and Mrs. Johnson should know that by now.

Dear Mrs. Brook I’m sorry about your difficult sister and the babies who are still inside of her causing trouble. I hope they start behaving so you can come back soon. I will even practice my finesse and keep pace with you when we walk. And I promise I will be your friend. Scout’s honor.

Caitlin Ann Smith.

DAD SAYS WE’RE GOING TO A FUN raiser for the families of the people who were shot. He says it’s being given by people who care about us and want to help us and even though I don’t like crowds we still have to go because we have to show we appreciate what they’re doing for us and we should act like we appreciate it and like we want to be there even if we don’t because no one has to do a fun raiser but they’re doing it anyway.