Read Online Walking on Glass by Alma Fullerton - Free Book Online Page B

asks,
    â€œHow is school?”
    â€œGreat.”
    â€œDo you have friends there?”
    â€œThere’s the girl I like, Alissa,
    and there’s Jack.”
    â€œJack’s your best friend?”
    â€œI guess,” I say.
    â€œYou guess?”
    â€œHe’s changing.”
    â€œHow’s that?” he asks.
    I go on to tell him about
    the look in Jack’s eyes
    when he beat that kid up.
    And how he took his shoes.
    â€œWhy do you suppose
    Jack would steal the shoes
    for you?” Dr. Mac asks.
    â€œHuh?”
    I look at him,
    confused.

IF I COULD GO BACK
    My teacher asks everyone,
    â€œIf you could change
    anything in history,
    what would it be?”
    Kids say things like,
    I’d prevent wars
    or Bin Laden and Hitler
    wouldn’t have been born.
    Other kids nod their heads to agree.
    When the teacher asks me,
    I say,
    â€œFour months ago,
    I would have come home
    five minutes earlier.”

    Everyone looks away from me
    like my face is on
    sideways.

THE HOUSE
    It’s too quiet
    at home,
    and it smells different.
    There’s no longer
    the scent of the fresh flowers
    Mom always kept
    in the living room.
    Instead I smell
    dust, rot, and,
    even after cleaning the floor,
    blood.
    Why can I still smell
    the blood?

THE DATE
    Jack calls.
    â€œCome on a run with the gang.
    We’ll have a blast.”
    â€œI can’t. I have a date
    with Alissa.”
    â€œPussy whipped,”
    Jack jokes.
    I don’t answer.
    â€œLater then.” He hangs up.
    I borrow Dad’s car
    to pick up Alissa.

    After the show she asks,
    â€œHow’s your mother?”
    â€œSame, I guess.”
    Without saying anything,
    she takes my hand
    and I notice I can
    breathe.

AFTER MY DATE
    Everything seems normal.
    Like nothing has happened.
    Like Mom never did it.
    Like it’s all a dream.
    I look in Mom’s room
    and expect to find her there.
    But she’s not.
    I pull her picture
    out of my pocket
    and rip it in half,
    dropping it in the garbage
    as I leave her room.

I’M SORRY
    Clear tape
    works miracles
    on the back
    of old photographs.

MOTHERS
    Jack can’t see
    mothers are fragile
    like a robin’s egg
    easily broken
    by a child’s hand.
    Every day
    I make sure
    I’m extra nice
    to Jack’s mother.
    So she knows
    someone cares.

THINKING BACK
    As I sit on the couch
    staring at a cushion,
    in silence,
    I keep seeing Mom
    curled up and gripping
    this cushion on this couch,
    alone,
    crying
    in the dark.
    Instead of going to her,
    I walked by.
    Saying nothing,
    like she was
    invisible.
    I hug the cushion

    and smell it,
    hoping to get a hint
    of her perfume,
    but it’s gone.
    All I can smell
    is the
    dust
    left behind.
    I go to my room,
    take a pill,
    and turn up the music
    loud
    so I can forget what
    I remember.

NORMAL DAYS
    Alissa and I
    go to the
    arcade.
    We meet some
    of her friends there
    and play pool in teams.
    They treat me like
    they can’t see the darkness
    in the back of my mind
    and I have
    fun.

SPIRIT SCENTS
    The wind blows
    Mom’s rose petals,
    scattering them
    across her garden—
    unwanted children
    tossed aside.
    I gather the petals,
    put them into a bowl,
    and place it beside
    Mom’s bed.
    They’re dead,
    but their scent fills the room
    like a memory.

MY ARM
    The force
    of the chandelier
    crashing down
    broke my arm.
    Even though
    the glass has all been
    swept away
    and my arm is healed,
    it still hurts
    when it
    rains.

HARD CORE
    â€œThis sucks.
    I’m tired of being
    some kind of wannabe.”
    Jack throws his beer bottle
    under the graffiti
    on the brick wall.
    â€œI’m tired of it.
    I’m going
    hard core.”

SLEEPLESS
    My father
    cries out to Mom
    in his sleep.
    I slide from the warmth
    of my bed
    to sleep on the bumpy couch
    in the living room,
    where I’ll no longer
    hear his calls.

ALISSA MEETS MOM
    Alissa asks,
    â€œCan I go with you
    to meet your Mom?”
    â€œI