Fly ∆way Girl

|24|

|COMP∆SS|

Josiah and I were in the back seat of my father's truck again, this time at a later date.

"When did this memory happen?" I asked Josiah.

"Two months and six days after the last one." He answered simply. "You'll be seven in a few more months."

I studied my surroundings, especially my father. He was alone in the vehicle, except for a vase full of bright red roses.

He drove frantically. Though his increasing speed, he didn't seem to be interested in the road, or his driving. Instead, he dialed a number on his ancient looking cell phone.

Almost immediately after putting the phone to his ear, he cut it off and threw it in the passenger seat.

His hand drummed on his leg in a nervous tick, then he brought it to his face to rub his temples.

Suddenly, his hand searched the seat for his phone. When he found it, he redialed the same number. This time, he allowed the call to go through.

"Dad?" He asked the person on the other end.

"She's getting worse, I don't know what to do..."

I wish I could hear both sides of the conversation. I have no idea what he's talking about.

"I got home at two yesterday afternoon, and she was knocked out in the bedroom. She had taken some sleeping pills in the middle of the day... She didn't even take the twins to school. I found them trying to make macaroni in the oven."

I could only faintly hear his father's response.

"She doesn't want to go to the therapist, I suggested it last night."

The truck's tire fell off the edge of the road, and he jerked it back over. "If I do take her, what will I do with the kids? I have to work... Therapists and babysitters cost money.."

"You live so far away dad... And I don't want to leave her." He paused, I think to gather his voice. His gaze fell briefly on the bouquet of roses. "I still love her, she just needs help, she can get better."

My father seemed to be almost in tears.

"I know, I know. I'll call them once I get to work. Thanks dad."

He hung up the phone, and tossed it aside.

I looked over to Josiah for him to clarify. "I'll just have to show you." He said.

He took my hands, and we were sitting on a couch in a bedroom.

"Who's room is this?" I asked.

"Your parents. This is the night of the previous memory." He answered. His eyes were focused on the family photo above the bed, but I don't think that's what he was really thinking about.

The family in the picture seemed happy and normal, but I'm beginning to think that things aren't so normal in my family.

After a few minutes of silence, I looked up to Josiah's face. He was still in deep thought about something, but I can't figure out if it's a happy or a sad thought. He is so good at disguising his feelings. Maybe he doesn't have any...

"What are we doing here?" I finally asked.

"Just be patient." He returned.

Just as he said it, the door swung open. My mother stalked into the room, and plopped down on the bed. Her hand dug around in the drawer of the bedside table, finally locating a pill container. I couldn't see how many she dumped into her hand, but she shoveled all of them into her mouth. After that, she curled up under the blanket.