Back at my apartment I found another package. My father had sent me a picture of us fishing. He’d put it in this strange homemade frame cobbled together with pieces of metal. I put it in the closet with the rest of his gifts. There was hardly any room with all the boxes. I thought about taking most of it down to the garbage.

  The fishing pole clanged to the floor. I picked it up. The rod was jet black, heavier than I’d ever felt before, like it was meant to catch some huge monster of the sea.

  I started to place it back in the closet, but remembered my father’s words after Steven died.

  “When someone dies, you have to remember there’s still so many people that need your love.”

  I remembered I did have one friend in Brightside. Even if everyone else hated me, wanted to see me thrown off the edge, I still had Danny.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  On Day 61, the sun was out and it was kind of warm, so I asked Danny if he’d like to go fishing. He started jumping up and down, clapping his hand against the fist that held the faded blue pencil. I took that as a yes. We cut a small hole in the ice. The pond didn’t have any fish, but I kept it to myself. We just sat quietly on the bank, Danny’s mind as calm as Michelle’s on the pills and whiskey. I guess that’s the other reason why I liked hanging out with Danny. The silence.

  But two days later Danny became the loudest thing in Brightside. He ran up to me on the street, nearly knocked me over.

  “I need a drawing!”

  I hated to spoil his fun, but he couldn’t hold still. “Okay, Danny. Just calm down.”

  “No, I need it now!”

  “I have to go to work.”

  “Please, you gotta!”

  “What’s going on?”

  “My sister… She’s coming!”

  The next day, Rachel’s desk was no longer empty. Danny’s sister, Sara, sat there, everything neat and organized. Nothing personal to distinguish her workspace from anyone else’s, except for one of my drawings Danny had wanted her to have.

  Rachel had been the opposite, papers scattered, pens everywhere, pictures of her father, mother, dog, and cat spread along the edge, a proud collage of her past.

  It was stupid to date Rachel. First time I saw where I was going to be sitting, I should’ve told Carlos I needed a new desk. I should’ve said I needed somewhere I could be by myself. Somewhere I couldn’t hurt anyone.

  My whole life’s been one big should’ve. Should’ve known better. Should’ve listened. Should’ve paid attention. Should’ve stopped worrying about everyone. Should’ve realized I’m only as dumb as I let myself be.

  Sara dialed another number, some lady in Kentucky about an island getaway. She followed the script, but made it her own, telling each person how she’d always dreamed of living by the ocean. It sounded believable, but her thoughts told me she didn’t want to be anywhere but Brightside.

  It was creepy. I mean, there were some who believed Brightside wasn’t so bad. People like Sharon and her puppet, Vanessa, women so positive it made you sick. But Sara was the first I’d heard of that really wanted to be here.

  She’d turned herself in on purpose, demanded to be reunited with Danny. They kept her in a cell for a month. No one turned themself in. She must have had a plan, a scheme. They interrogated her, deprived her of sleep, but Sara never cracked, just kept whispering her brother’s name.

  The picture I’d drawn for Danny, the one with the boy escaping through the brick wall, sat on her desk. For me, the picture was about escaping Brightside. For Sara, it was about breaking in.

  Sara was twenty when their parents had died, Danny away at a special needs school. She took him in, cared for him, made sure he wore clean shirts, combed his hair, fell asleep in bed, not in the chair watching cartoons.

  All morning, Sara and I hadn’t shared a single word. She was already working the phones when I’d come in. She wanted to make a good first impression. After what she’d been through to get here, I didn’t blame her.

  Finally, on our break, Sara caught me staring at the drawing. She tucked a long strand of brown hair behind her ear. Her nose had this cute little bump, like she’d broken it as a kid. She pointed at the drawing and said, “It’s really good.”

  “Oh, I just…”

  “I’m Sara.”

  “Yeah, Danny told me you were coming. Showed me a picture. I’ve never seen him so excited.”

  “Yeah… Look, I wanted to thank you. You know, for taking care of him.”

  “It’s not a big deal. I didn’t do anything.”

  Yes, you did.

  I suddenly felt uncomfortable. People’s thoughts about me were rarely this nice.

  Sara said, “Danny wants to go to the diner tonight. He’d like you to come if you’re not busy.”

  “Sure.”

  Sara and I each had sandwiches. Danny ordered pancakes with a whipped cream smile. He got some on his face and Sara wiped it off while Danny talked about us fishing.

  “You need to get those worms out of our apartment,” Sara said. “It’s gross.”

  Danny’s special hat shook back and forth. “But we need them.”

  My thoughts slipped out, how there weren’t any fish in the pond.

  Danny dropped his fork.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  He picked up the fork and started thumbing it “You lied?”

  “Danny, cut it out,” Sara said. “He was being nice.”

  He lowered his head so all I could see was DANNY in bright red letters. He was pissed when he said, “But you lied!”

  “I know, but I still like going with you.” I thought about my apartment, about Dad’s first gift.

  Danny raised his head, his eyes big and shiny.

  After we paid the tab, we went back to my place and I dug around in the closet. Danny was hopping around and Sara told him to stop it, that he was shaking the floor.

  He’d probably already heard my thoughts, but I still said, “Alright, close your eyes.”

  Danny squeezed his lids so tight I thought he might squish his eyeballs. I put Billy Bass into his open palms. Danny smiled. I pushed the button and it still had a little juice. Billy turned his head and sang. Danny’s laughter filled the room until the batteries died.

  “Hold on, there are extras.” I pulled out the D-Cells from the closet. Only they didn’t fit. It was strange.

  Danny said, “It’s okay.” He opened his backpack, pulled out two C batteries. They popped right in and Billy came back to life.

  I couldn’t believe my father had given me the wrong size. It said C right on the box. I set the unusable batteries on the counter. They felt strange, a little light.

  Sara was annoyed she was going to have to hear this damn song every night. “Okay, I think that’s enough, Danny.”

  Danny started hopping again, but this time it wasn’t out of joy.

  Sara told him to put down the fish and hurry to the bathroom.

  Danny had to hit the button one last time before handing it to Sara and scurrying out of the room.

  Sara was looking at Billy Bass.

  I said, “Sorry.”

  She said it was okay and cracked a smile. “He loves it.”

  We stood there awkwardly, neither of us really knowing what to say. She was tired, thinking of her bed. I saw how beautiful she looked, even that little bump in her nose. She turned, embarrassed. I was picturing her lips on mine, and she didn’t feel the same way. I was destroying her opinion of me, and for the first time realized how hard it was for women in Brightside, having to hear all the nasty thoughts men carried.

  Danny came bounding back in, breaking the tension.

  “I think you should get a dog, Joe!”

  I tried saying I wasn’t a pet person. Lily’s breath on my feet, the puff on my arm. Fucking cowards.

  Sara felt awful for hearing my thoughts. “We should probably go. It’s getting late.”

  “Yeah…I’ll see you both tomorrow,” I said.

  Danny collected his things, and they walked out, leaving me alone with my thoughts of my dog and those fuckers firing into her whimpering body.

  * * *

  I was ten years old in Mom’s new car holding my yellow Lab. Sunny wasn’t a puppy anymore, but just barely. I’d had her for six months and she wouldn’t leave my side. For the last week, I hadn’t left hers.

  I had one hand holding her tiny head to keep it from quivering. The other picked all the yellow hairs off the leather. No need to give Mom another reason to freak out. She’d found Sunny throwing up in her room, fur falling off in clumps. Dad had carried her to the car.

  I was in the back seat, leaning into the corner furthest from Mom. The safest spot.

  Mom pulled over to the curb. “Okay, you two get out. Go do whatever you have to.”

  Dad was in the seat right front of me, his head three feet away. When he said Mom’s name, he stretched it out, let her know it wasn’t right for her to talk like that.

  Mom pulled down the sun visor, checked her fire red hair in the lighted mirror, poofed up the sides. “What? I didn’t say anything.”

  She hadn’t. But she was thinking she hoped they’d put Sunny to sleep.

  Dad opened the passenger door, put one foot on the sidewalk. “Are you going to park? We might be a while.”

  “And I’ll be here,” Mom said.

  Dad got out and opened the back door, helped with Sunny. She was shaking real bad in Dad’s hands so he gave her back to me once I got on the sidewalk. I held her against my belly and cradled her with both arms. She looked up with eyes that’d lost all their shine.

  The sliding doors opened and a blast of cold air blew down from the vent. Sunny shuddered real hard, needed to be held tighter, have a hand on her bony back to keep her warm.

  There were two people at the counter and nearly every seat in the waiting room had someone in it. A dog or cat by their feet. Most of the animals didn’t look sick. Not like Sunny.

  Dad got in line, looked down and saw me shaking. “Why don’t you have a seat, Joe? There’s one right there.”

  Sunny liked it better sitting down. I gave her a quick peck on her head when no one was looking. She didn’t react, just closed her eyes. I put my finger in front of her nose and couldn’t feel a thing. Finally a small puff. Then, keeping her eyes closed, Sunny stuck out her tongue, licked me once to say she was still there.

  The girl with braces smiled at Dad. “I’ll let the doctor know. Go ahead and have a seat.”

  Before Dad even got to me, Dr. Gentry stuck his fat face out of the back and waved us over. “Hank, I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Thank you for getting us in,” Dad said.

  Everyone stared at us walking past the receptionist’s desk. They’d been waiting all morning, and now they were pissed. None of them knew Dr. Gentry and Dad shared a secret.

  Dr. Gentry showed us into his office that was half the size of a real doctor’s. He sat behind his desk, his fat finger pushing up the eyeglasses that didn’t hide his beady pig eyes. Then he took Sunny to the examination room and ran tests.

  I need you to keep your mind calm, Dad thought.

  “Okay.”

  Dr. Gentry is like us.

  My eyes must have looked like they were going to pop out of my head, because Dad told me to get a hold of myself.

  “But you said we should never seek—”

  “I know what I said. But we can’t afford this.”

  Mom’s new car had pretty much cleaned us out.

  Thirty minutes later, Dr. Gentry came back with Sunny and sat at his desk. I was standing in the doorway because even right there I could hear that creepy bastard’s thoughts.

  I didn’t think I could get closer; then Dad lowered his voice and said, “Sit. Right now.”

  Dr. Gentry waited until I was sitting next to Dad before he said, “Sunny’s not doing so good.”

  You didn’t need test results to figure that out. She could barely move.

  All matter of fact, Dr. Gentry said, “If she doesn’t have help, she’ll die.”

  I nodded again and again and again. It was the only way for me to not cry, to not yell shut up.

  Gentry twisted an old ruby ring he wore on the finger next to his shiny wedding one. “The treatment and operation she needs costs a lot.”

  You owe me, Dad thought.

  Dr. Gentry kept twisting that ruby ring, never the wedding band. “Your dad’s a good man.” He looked right at Dad. But what I owe you is far less than this.

  Sunny shuddered, almost made me start crying. Dad reached over and put his hand on Sunny’s head. He told me everything would be alright then kept thinking that, like maybe if he thought it enough times it would make it true.

  “I’ll work here after school,” I blurted.

  Dr. Gentry’s face twisted a smile. “He’s got it too?”

  Dad’s thoughts told me to shut up.

  Gentry snapped his fingers and pointed at his big puffy face. “Up here,” he said to me. “I want you to listen because this means you won’t be able to play football or basketball after school. You won’t be able to be on any teams.”

  That was fine. Sports were no big deal. It just meant there’d be less coaches, refs, and fathers for Mom to meet.

  Dad kept patting Sunny’s head, his wedding ring dull as ever. “Joe, you don’t have—”

  “I want to.”

  Dr. Gentry cleared his throat, this awful hacking. “So let’s say I’ll take care of your dog as best I can and in exchange you work every day after school, plus Saturdays.”

  I said okay, but Dr. Gentry held up his pointer finger and took a drink from his cup.

  Sunny’s heartbeat was weak, one every other second. This was just wasting time.

  Gentry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “For two months.” He dragged out the next word. “And…whatever your dad has on him. To help cover costs.”

  Dad swallowed hard, but Dr. Gentry didn’t see because his eyes were glued to Dad’s hands pulling out his wallet, digging out all the bills inside. The hands that would hand over everything he had.

  Dad said, “Hold on a sec.” Dad held out the bills, to me not Gentry. “It’s your choice.”

  It would have been nice to yell, “Put the money back. We don’t need this fat bastard and his goddamn rings.” But Dr. Gentry was needed. Sunny’s chest barely rose with each shallow breath. “Give it to him,” I said. “Please.”

  Dad pushed the bills over. “This was for the art class you wanted. I’d been saving up for your birthday.”

  It was a lot of money. Too much.

  “Take it, Joe. I’ll tell your mom I lost my wallet.”

  Dr. Gentry held out his hand and pretended to look sad.

  I gave it to him and said, “The class is stupid anyway.”

  “It’s not polite to lie,” Dr. Gentry said. He stuffed the money in his pocket and reached for Sunny with those fat fingers.

  I gave Sunny one last squeeze, a kiss on her head before she went in his hands, those fingers I hoped were full of miracles.

  Gentry headed for the door. “Let me get this guy taken care of and I’ll see you three o’clock Monday.”

  A real doctor would know Sunny wasn’t a guy, but nothing was said on the way out, all five operating tables right there, so hard not to look at. It was easier to stare straight ahead, follow Dad past the receptionist’s counter, through the front door. Sunny was going to be okay and that’s all that mattered.

  Dad stepped to the edge of the sidewalk, looked up and down the street, Mom’s car nowhere in sight. He came back and knelt close. “I’m proud of you, dealing with this so well.”

  Dad’s thoughts let out his little secret. Dr. Gentry had slept with Mom.

  I nodded, but couldn’t speak. I pictured Dr. Gentry kissing Mom.

  Dad’s face got hard, the way it did when he had something serious to say. “Don’t think about that.” He took my hand. “Look, sometimes the things we love will die. Sometimes they won’t. But it’s always important to fight. Life’s worth fighting for. Don’t give up. Sunny’s not going to. You’ve given her a chance. I’m proud of you.”

  I said thanks, but still couldn’t look him in the eyes. “And for the money.”

  Dad got up and brushed off his knee. “I’m sorry about the class.”

  I looked in the parking lot. “Think Mom will be back?”

  “Probably, but what do you say we start walking?”

  I said fine, but with an attitude.

  “I know you don’t like him,” Dad said. “I don’t either. But Sunny’s in good hands.”

  Dad had a point but it didn’t make anything any better. It didn’t make it any easier to follow him, not sure how he could hold his shoulders back, head high as if there was nothing to be embarrassed about, like there wasn’t a care in the world.

  * * *

  Day 65, I was at work talking to a guy in New Mexico about a condo in Vail, I told him he could ski right to his front door.

  “Yeah, I don’t know,” he said.

  “You just have to picture it. Fresh powder. A warm fire.” I was drawing a picture of Sunny, only had the eyes, those sad eyes as we left her there with Dr. Gentry. “And you’ll never beat the price. You even qualify for—”

  “I’ll call you back. I have to go.”

  “Okay, well, let me just give the best number to reach—”

  He’d already hung up.

  I set down my pencil, stared at Sunny’s eyes that took up half the page. No mouth. No nose. No face. Just those eyes.

  The irises were so brown I colored them black, red squiggles stretched across all the white. The eyes were terrified, the eyebrows angled up because she just wanted me to stay.

  Sara said, “Can I see?”

  I banged my knee on the desk, had no idea Sara was at hers. “When’d you get in?”

  Sara took off her black peacoat and put it on the back of her chair. “Just a few minutes ago. I said hi.”

  Sara had on a silver turtleneck. Sleeveless. I’d never seen her arms. The scars crisscrossing her flesh. Permanent reminders of how she used to deal with her gift.