The Quiet Circle Volume 1 Issue 1 | Page 19

photo accompanied by a poor excuse for why he couldn ’ t be in her life . I climbed into my adopted mother ’ s minivan furious .
“ He looks like Captain Ahab ,” I spat , fastening myself in quickly as we pulled out of the meter spot . Her tight , sad smile reflected my frustration . “ Why can ’ t she just be alone ? She was working . She was happy . She wasn ’ t drinking anymore .” My eyes filled with tears that I refused to let fall . I wasn ’ t stupid . I was thirteen . Two sessions of D . A . R . E . had taught me that every brain cell in my mother ’ s head was slowly fading , that she was damaging her liver , that she was going to die .
After her death , I thought about looking Bill up . I wondered if he had still talked to her , if he worried about her . My first job after college was at a school just past his house , and every time I drove there in the 7:30 a . m . dew , I considered turning down his street and looking for the white house with the green awning . What would I say ? Would he even still be there ? Surely , he would still have the crocheted blankets draped on the couches . Perhaps he would be the one person who would understand all that I had lost .
I told Jenn about this idea after the funeral , when Sal retreated with his hooker friend into a sunken , grey Oldsmobile . “ Bill ?” She asked , watching as black smoke poured out of the exhaust pipe , and the car rumbled out of sight . “ You mean the one who stole all her SSI checks ?”
~
The night my mom told me I “ saved ” her started like so many others in our U-block across from the golf course : someone had a case of beer , and someone else had a radio . It was late summer , I was five-and-a-half , and all along the ribbon of shared grass behind our row houses , the neighbors were gathering . They collected around Miss Caroline ’ s big green cable box , beer cans in hand , smoke signals issuing from their mouths and fading above their heads .
The sky went from light blue to turquoise , and then my favorite , a blue so clear and deep that it seemed we could see forever . My mom called me in , to go up to bed , but I ran upstairs and went to my window instead . My room had the best view of the house — I could see our yard , Miss Caroline ’ s and Ricky ’ s , and the graveyard that ran behind all the houses . In the distance , soft round mountains rose and fell like waves , tinted blue by distance . I watched the party linger on , the beer case slowly depleted , and the box eventually used to collect all the empty cans before everyone turned in for the night . Someone turned off the radio , and I heard the back door slap shut .
12