Chapter Eighteen

"Are you serious?" Damien asked in disbelief. We were standing in the lobby as a motor home pulled up. "That's how we're going to get there?" He turned around and stared at Dr. Crimm.

"It'll be fun." Dr. Crimm stepped up to the doors and the woman at the reception desk pressed the button which unlocked the doors for us. We walked down the steps and approached the RV. "We won't be back in time to sleep here so this is the solution. You guys can move around inside, watch TV, and go to the bathroom while we drive, and tonight we can sleep in here." She patted the door with her hand and then popped open the metal handle. Three steps unfolded from beneath the door.

I thought about the old photo we had at home of my mother as a young child, sitting outside a motor home on a summer vacation. It hadn't been nearly as big as the one in front of me, but for some reason the idea of experiencing something similar to what she had made guilt weigh heavily on my shoulders for the distance I'd let grow between us. I hated feeling crowded so I waited to be the last one to climb aboard. When I stepped up to where Dr. Crimm was standing at the bottom of the steps, she stopped me before I could go inside.

"I'm going to ride up front. The bedroom in the back has a sliding door. Tonight when I tell everyone to get ready for bed, claim that room. I've had a lock installed on the backside of the door. You and the other girls can sleep there." She took a step back, giving me the space I needed to climb inside. Only I felt like I couldn't.

"I wish I could climb up there as easily as Aideen and Shima." I hadn't meant to say it out loud, but I knew Dr. Crimm had heard it. I faced her, hoping she could see that I wasn't a loser or some wimp who had given up on everything. It was the opposite. I tried so hard to be normal I was exhausted. I only gave up when I couldn't go on any further.

"It took me four years. The first one was the hardest. The second one didn't get much easier. I used to stick Post-it notes with the names of heroes I'd read about to the wall above my bed. I needed little reminders that not all people were bad." She smiled at me as I listened to her confession. "I started taking them down the third year. One by one. I'd memorized their names and didn't need them there to remind me of what I already knew."

"What was that?"

"There is far more good in this world than evil. You just have to look beyond what happened to you." Her expression was hopeful. "Tomorrow marks the tenth year I survived. It's not a date I celebrate, but that fourth year I realized I wasn't ever going to forget it. I could dread it every year it came around, or I could look at it from a different perspective."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to," I confided. I'd never feel settled on that date. How could I have done that? I imagined I'd know it for the rest of my life. It would always be this dark cloud hanging over my head and I wanted it gone. Only just like the fluffy white clouds above us in that moment, I was powerless to make them move. The only way to escape was to end my life.

"I didn't think I could, either," she said and tilted her head as she watched me wipe a tear from my cheek. "But you'd be surprised at what you're still capable of."

The inside of the motor home was beautiful. The cabinets were crafted out of a dark wood. The counters were smooth and void of dings and scrapes. The boys quickly found their way into the back bedroom, which had a closet containing a large embedded screen. They had their choice of three consoles to play on. Of course, Virtual Now was an option, but there were also two other systems that were competitors of the company.

Shima and Aideen sat down on one of the two couches facing each other. I sat on the other. I made sure the letters in my back pocket didn't fall out. Dr. Crimm climbed into the front seat. She wasn't a large woman, but sitting in the driver's seat of that huge vehicle made her look very tiny. She put on her seat belt and then turned to talk to all of us.

"I have to go out through the main gate. I think it might be best if you pull down all the shades so you won't be bothered or upset by any of the protesters. There's been a development in the Brandon Ertz case and the crowd has grown considerably. They might rock the RV, but I assure you we are safe inside. Once we get past them, I don't anticipate any other problems." She turned back around and used her key to start the motor. The lights inside became brighter once the generator turned on.

I turned on the couch, and put my feet up on the seat like I often did at home. That way I could face the direction we were traveling. It wasn't often I felt carsick, but since I was already so anxious, I knew it was only a matter of time before I started to feel nauseous. I wrapped my arms around my knees and held tight as Dr. Crimm headed toward the front gates. Even with our shades drawn, we'd be able to see through the front window.

We could already hear them yelling as the RV approached the gates. This time Dr. Crimm didn't have to do anything to get the gate to slide open. We rolled out slowly, careful not to race past people precariously perched on the edge of the road. It had started to rain, but that didn't deter any of the crowd. As the rain pelted our windshield, rocks and other objects could be heard bouncing off the sides. The motor home drove on as if it was all just part of the trip with Dr. Crimm behind the controls. How many times had she had to face this crowd?

We finally reached the end of the property and pulled out onto the open road. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the side of the couch, careful never to let myself get sleepy enough to doze off. I opened my eyes when I heard Shima and Aideen slide their blinds up. "I've only been to three states," Aideen said as she watched the city fly by.

"We used to travel before my mom died," Shima said. She traced the track of a raindrop with her finger as it raced along the window. "Every summer we would pick somewhere new to go. I've been to Hawaii, Alaska, Puerto Rico, and of course my home country, Japan." She folded her hands on the back of the couch and stared out the window in thought. "I'd trade all those trips if I could have my mom back." She looked at Aideen. "No trip could ever be as important as having my mom at my graduation."

Aideen didn't respond right away, but it wasn't that uncomfortable silence everyone dreads—me especially. Finally she looked at Shima with the mischievous expression she'd had the first day in the cafeteria. "You're missing a mother, and I've just found out I have two. Maybe one of mine could meet you and we could go to your graduation."

Shima smiled. "That would be nice. I'm not sure if I'll even graduate now."

"I'm studying for my GED." Aideen turned so she was facing the back of the RV and could look at Shima as they talked. "I couldn't go back to school after the baby. It's not that they wouldn't let me. I just couldn't do it."

"It's kryptonite sometimes. Grief is no joke. It cripples even the strongest of people," Shima agreed.

"Hey," Ken yelled from the back room. "No crippled jokes." He tossed a pillow at the girls and laughed. "It took me five minutes just to pull myself up those stairs. Have a little respect for the disabled kid." Damien and Marco chuckled in the background.

"Even with your leg broken, you are more 'able' than I am at many things," Damien informed Ken.

"Don't be so sure about that." Ken replied. I twisted again in my seat so I could see the boys. Marco was smiling up at the screen and Damien was manipulating the menu on the controller. "You just connected this whole system in less time than it took me to take my shower last night. When I'm not injured I might be fast, but physical speed has nothing on brainpower. You could run circles around me with that."

"Thanks man," Damien said. He held out his fist and Ken bumped it with his own.

I turned back around and watched the road in front of us, which stretched out far past my view. Cars pulled on and rode with us awhile, and then they pulled off the freeway to return to their homes or maybe work. I looked at each family I saw, wondering if they had ever been torn apart by something that only took a few minutes. I wondered if they were luckier than me, or just stronger. The rain continued to fall from the sky and paint the view out my window in shades of gray.

The boys had shut down their video games and were streaming news coverage in the back. I could hear bits and pieces of information about current events, and of course the nonstop coverage of Braden Ertz. It grew very quiet in the motor home when it was announced that R2L had come forward with information about a medication in clinical trials that could possibly help Ertz regain his memory of that night. That must have been what Dr. Crimm was arguing about in the hallway.

As we drove on with the story playing in detail in the background, I felt tired again. Didn't I always? I hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in months and all I wanted to do was curl up with a blanket and fall asleep to the sound of the road beneath our tires and the rain pelting its song on the windows. I scooted back and rested my head on the throw pillow behind me. I stared up at the vent in the ceiling. My brother was probably at school now, finally free of having to watch out for me. I hoped he was smiling again, that the stress I caused had been lifted, and with it his need for weed and synthetic nervous-system inhibitors.

I'd never seen him as angry as he had been when he visited me after my attempt. He couldn't even look at me. I rubbed at my arms, feeling that familiar need to scrub away the layer of filth I felt lying on the surface of my skin and smeared onto everything I touched. It was toxic, and since the incident it had been poisoning him, too. I could see the way his fists clenched at my bedside and how he'd angrily whispered, "Fight!" the first chance he got when my parents had to step out of the room for a second. They'd come back before I could explain that there was no fight left in me.

He was broken now too, and that was my fault. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop my darkness from seeping into his frame. I couldn't stop the soundtrack from my drama from playing in his world, too. If he hated me even half as much as I hated myself, then there was no hope for us. And you couldn't tell me that he didn't, because I'd seen it on his face—so had my parents. They took him home and didn't allow him to come back.

I grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and draped it across my legs. Covering myself always made me feel the best. I liked to be hidden, unseen. I wondered if Lorelei would mail my card like I'd asked her. It wouldn't get there in time, but at least it would eventually get to him. There were a million things I should have written inside it. So many times, I wanted to tell him how sorry I was that I couldn't be the big sister I'd once been, but then he would want to know why. For months I'd let him believe a story that wasn't true because it protected me from having to face the reality of what had happened. It was better to pretend I was someone I wasn't, so he didn't have to see who I'd become.

The loud sound of clanking pots, pans, and silverware became a melodic hum in the background. If I closed my eyes I could pretend I was with my family on a road trip to somewhere new. I could imagine I was young again and the world hadn't shown me the dark side of the moon. I hugged the blanket tight and pulled it up to my chin. I was safe, but I still couldn't let myself believe it.