Why don’t you let me talk with her instead. And why don’t you want to do a group project with some of the girls?
I can do a better group project by my own self.
I’m sure you can do a wonderful project but there’s value in working with a group.
What’s the value?
Making friends.
I already have friends.
Tell me about your friends.
My Dictionary. TV. Computer.
Mrs. Brook shakes her head. I’m talking about people and learning how to get along with others.
I know how. I leave them alone.
Not that way.
But that’s what they always tell me — Leave me alone. Caitlin go away — so I’m listening. And I’m doing what they asked so I’m being nice.
Mrs. Brook’s head drops down and she squeezes her hands into fists. It can be difficult but I’m going to help you. She Looks At The Person. Let’s think about the children in your class.
I stare at the Facial Expressions Chart. I start stuffed-animaling it.
Are you thinking?
I already did.
Who did you think of?
I’m thinking of people who smile a lot. That’s supposed to mean happy and nice and friendly. And which people have mad faces or cry a lot because that means they’re sad. Or mad. Or scared.
Or sometimes even happy and just feeling emotional, Mrs. Brook says.
See! That’s why emotions are evil and I hate them! Especially crying. I don’t Get It.
Laughing is easier to figure out, she says. It usually shows that you’re happy.
Not always. Sometimes it shows that you’re being mean.
That’s true — if someone is teasing or making fun of someone.
WHEN, I tell her, not if.
She sighs. I suppose it’s just as hard to figure out emotions from laughing too.
Now I’m thinking about Josh.
Mrs. Brook does her turtle head jerk. Oh? Do you… like him?
No.
Let’s try to pick someone you like and we’ll work on a friendship with that person. That’s the first thing to think about.
Oh. You didn’t say that.
Who do you like?
I don’t know.
Think hard.
Miss Harper.
Miss Harper?
Yes. She’s the princiPAL. Get It? She’s everyone’s pal.
Yes okay but I’m thinking of someone your age.
Who are you thinking of?
No one in particular. I’d like you to think of someone.
I don’t like this game. I give up so why don’t you just tell me?
Well — how about Emma?
Emma?
Yes. She’s very outgoing.
I don’t like very outgoing. Or efFUSive. Or EXtroverted. Or greGARious. Or any of those words that mean their loudness fills up my ears and hurts and their face and waving arms invade my Personal Space and their constant talking sucks all the air out of the room until I think I’m going to choke.
It’s easier to talk with people who are outgoing. Just think about it.
This is what I’m thinking: Mrs. Brook does not Get It.
You’re a very special person Caitlin. I think you’ll be a wonderful friend.
Okay maybe she does Get It. I’m the one who doesn’t. She lets me look up friend in her Dictionary. It says: somebody emotionally close.
There’s that evil word again. Emotionally. That is not one of my strengths.
But you can develop that strength.
I look away and suck on my sleeve. I’m not ready to develop that strength just yet.
Mrs. Brook seems to Get It. She sighs and says she’ll talk with Mrs. Johnson and maybe this time I can be my own group because there’s a lot going on in my life right now but soon I’ll have to join the group.
I don’t like the word soon because you don’t know when it’s going to sneak up on you and turn into NOW. Or maybe it’ll be the kind of soon that never happens. Like when I asked Dad and Devon when the chest would be finished. They said soon.
CHAPTER 8
BAMBI
I’M DOING MY GROUP PROJECT on the Heart and how it works and how a gunshot wound to the Heart makes it stop working and what they do with the body when it’s dead which is cremate it. At least that’s what happened to Devon.
When I finish my last drawing I go to the sofa where Dad is sitting and show it to him. He reads it and his head droops almost to his knees. The bump on his throat goes in and out every time he swallows. He sniffs several times which means at least three times and actually he sniffs five times before I say, What’s wrong with it?
Nothing, he says. It’s — it’s very well done. I… need to go take a shower. You can pick out a video and watch it.
Yay! And I don’t even have all the stickers I need for a video! I run over to the shelf with the videos and stop. Why are you taking a shower at night? You always take a shower in the morning.
He is already out of the living room. I’m a little sore… and I don’t hear what he says after that except he must be really sore because I hear him crying even before the shower turns on.
I don’t want to hear the crying so I focus on my favorite videos. I don’t like the ones the other girls at school like with loud music and girls who giggle and dance. I like cartoons. I pick up Cinderella but it’s kind of a stupid story. Not because she lost a shoe. I lose shoes all the time. But if you know where you lost your shoe why don’t you go back and get it? And if you don’t know Devon always says go back to the last place you remember having it and start looking there. Cinderella should go back to the dance. Snow White is okay because of the dwarves and Pocahontas is good because of the animals but Devon says the music is crying music and Dad is already crying so I don’t want that.
I pull out Bambi and look at it. Bambi reminds me how smart I am. Sometimes I’m smarter than Devon even though he is three years and one month and sixteen days older than me. Even when I was five years old and we watched Bambi. At the beginning the mother deer dies in the fire. You don’t see her die because it’s a cartoon but you see the flames and she never comes back so she is definitely dead. Devon kept saying, She can’t be dead! She can’t be dead, and I said, She’s DEAD Devon! He started crying and saying, She’s coming back! She has to come back, so I had to yell at him, SHE’S DEAD AND SHE’S NEVER COMING BACK, and Dad had to come and take Devon out of the room because like Dad said, You shouldn’t say things like that!
I don’t know why Devon couldn’t Get It that the mother was dead. Our mother died two years before we watched Bambi so he should’ve known that mothers die and that they don’t ever come back again no matter how much you cry or call for them.