from "Dummies":

The second time my mother started dying, my brother and sister and I were sent to live with a woman on the edge of town. Mrs. Edna McLeod was a widow who often misapplied her makeup: the dark red lipstick and dots of rouge were slightly out of place, as if she had looked in the mirror, gotten a fix on her features, and then jiggled her head to the left, placing the colors where her lips and cheeks had recently been.

Dan was fifteen, Bea was twelve, and I was nine.

Our parents had wanted to send Dan back to Maywood - an institution - but Bea had fought hard against it, saying that if Dan had to go, she would leave everyone behind and ride to Cleveland on her bike and stay in a homeless shelter there. She said we were supposed to stick together.

My father pointed out that Dan actually didn't mind Maywood; he had lived there off and on for seven years.

"That isn't the damn point," Bea said. She was just old enough to swear. Rudeness was a brand-new coat she was trying on.

I understood how she felt. With our mother sick again, all of us seemed to be in danger. We were flying apart, crumbling, with no one to protect us but ourselves.

"When is Mom coming back?" I asked.

"Soon." My father looked tired. He would have to go with her, but told us the week before that he was sure she would be all right. But our mother was always dying. The process took years; for half our childhood she was rehearsing. Then she was gone.

back

Copyright 1997 by Julie Schumacher