He is screaming.
And Josh is pulling on his legs.
NOOOOOOOO! I run all the way to the monkey bars and I HIT Josh hard and yell, LET GO OF HIM! LEAVE HIM ALONE! DON’T TOUCH HIM! YOU’RE EVIL!
Stop hitting me you freak! Josh yells.
But I have to keep hitting him because he won’t let go of Michael.
Stop! Stop! Michael says. And don’t call my friend a freak!
I’m helping him stay up, Josh says as I try to pry his hands off of Michael.
No you’re not! I say. You’re evil Evil EVIL!
Stop it or I’ll fall! Michael screams.
Josh lets go. You idiot! he says to me.
Don’t say that! Michael shouts.
Josh’s face is red. Can’t you see I’m trying to help?
You’re evil! I say.
Help! I’m going to fall! Michael screams. Somebody catch me!
Josh steps under Michael before I can stop him and I watch as Michael falls into his arms diagonally and Josh puts him upright and sets him carefully on the ground.
Josh looks at Michael then at me. His face is swollen and his voice cracks even though he only has one word to say. See?
Josh was helping me, Michael says.
Oh, I say.
No kidding? somebody asks.
I look around and there are a bunch of kids around the monkey bars now staring at Josh. I think Josh has just noticed them too. He steps back from the crowd.
Why does everyone think I’m bad? Josh’s voice is a whisper.
I don’t, Michael says, but his voice is covered up by the crowd talking.
Because you are, a boy says LOUD. Duh!
You’re mean, someone else says.
Yeah Josh, a voice shouts. It runs in your family.
Ooooh, a lot of people say.
I’m not like my cousin! Josh shouts. It’s not fair! Everyone blames me! He looks at the crowd.
They do? I say.
Yes! Everyone hates me because he killed those people. YOU hate me because of that!
I shake my head. No. I hate you because you’re mean to people. Except I guess you’re nice to Michael. I wish you’d make up your mind and be mean or be nice. Then I’d know how to feel.
I’m mean to people because they’re mean to me!
Oh. Well maybe if you’re nice to people they’ll be nice to you, I tell him.
Michael pulls Josh’s sleeve. I like you Josh. You read to me and you give me high fives and you stopped Avery when he was pushing me and you helped me up on the monkey bars and you promised you wouldn’t let me fall and you didn’t. You caught me Josh.
I don’t know why this is a reason to cry but Josh drops on his knees and covers his face. I can hear him crying behind his hands though.
The crowd is quiet now. Nobody says anything.
Michael kneels down next to Josh and pats his back. Caitlin thought you were trying to hurt me because sometimes you pull people off the monkey bars.
Josh is still sobbing. He stretches his hands so his palms cover his eyes and his fingers are covering the top of his head. It looks like he’s trying to cover his whole head but it’s not working. I watch him and I wonder if he wants a fleece or a sofa cushion to cover him up. That’s what I want when I feel bad.
Michael looks up at me with his Bambi eyes. In them I see sadness and I think it’s fear or maybe it’s confusion. I also see friendship. And I think there’s a look that means I need to do something to help. To answer the question. I think it’s the look I gave Devon. A lot.
So I kneel down on the other side of Josh and pat his back too and tell him it’s okay the same way Devon used to tell me and Dad still tells me. The way that I can really believe it. And if this is empathy I hope Josh can feel some of the empathy that’s starting to come out of me.
CHAPTER 36
MORE DRAWING
OUR GROUP PROJECT IS DONE and we have to present it to the class. Emma does all the talking and I hold up my drawings so I can hide my face behind them. Mrs. Johnson and a lot of people say, Wow! That’s an awesome bird! Look at that dog! She can really draw! and nice things like that but this way I don’t have to Look At The Person. Also I don’t even have to say Thank You because Emma is trying to talk and it would be rude for me to talk at the same time.
The class claps. Mrs. Johnson gives us an A. She puts all of my drawings on the bulletin board and I feel happy until she puts other people’s drawings up and theirs are all in color. Now mine don’t look as good somehow. I stare at mine and wonder how they would look with color even though I like things better without color. I think.
Emma says that our group should sit at lunch together so we do. Shane shrugs. Brianna rolls her eyes. I eat my cheese crackers and chocolate milk and fruit leather strip.
Could you chew with your mouth closed please? Brianna asks. Her eyes are big and so is her voice. I’m confused. I’m not sure who she’s talking to.
Do you mean me? I ask her.
Yes! And don’t talk with your mouth full! she says.
Shane snorts.
I’m serious! Brianna says.
Caitlin, Emma says after she swallows a bite of her hot dog, can you do some drawings for the yearbook?
I don’t know, I say. What kind of drawings?
Her forehead wrinkles. I think drawings in the margins would be good. They could be of things around school.
I think of what’s around school. The grass?
No. Not just grass.
The street?
No. I mean things you see in the classroom or out on the playground. Books. Computers. Desks. Monkey bars. School stuff.
I nod slowly. I could do that.
High five, Emma says. She puts her hand in the air.
I look at it and think about how Michael and Josh high-five.
I put my hand up and Emma slaps it.
It feels weird but in a good way.
You should join the art club in middle school, she says.
There’s an art club?
Sure! Mr. Walters runs it. He’s the art teacher.
I know Mr. Walters.
He’s cool, Emma says.
I nod. I need to draw his eyes.
She shrugs and grins. Okay.
At home our chest is almost done.
I draw what I want to carve into the top part of it. The bird is gray and black and white and has a long tail. Her head is tilted up and her beak is open like she’s singing. She is beautiful. I’m happy because I get my drawing just right. I run to the living room to show it to Dad.
He takes it with one hand and rubs his chin with the other. He sits down on the sofa with an oof. He stares at it. It’s not… It doesn’t look as… detailed as that eagle you drew that won first prize.
It’s not an eagle, I tell him. It’s a mockingbird.