Lola is Just Like Me

Chapter 12

12

Somebody found me passed out on the lawn and panicked, shook me awake and brushed the bits of photo paper off of me. It must have taken a while for me to wake up, because she was glassy-eyed and said, “Oh, thank god!” when I woke up. My deep sleep had granted me a sort of numbness for a moment. I didn’t even realize that Marie was the one who had awoken me. The shock woke me up completely.

“Marie?”

“Where is your father?” Marie took a piece of the photo from my shoulder and looked at it. “What’s this? What did you tear up?”

“What time is it?” It was much too dark to be my father’s usual time to arrive home. It had to be much later.

“It’s just past eight,” Marie said. “What are you doing out here? Is everything okay?”

“Dad should be home. It’s much too late.”

“Did you get my letter?” Marie hugged me and stroked my hair.

“Why are you talking so fast? My head hurts. Let’s go inside, okay?” I tried to get up, but a haze held me to the ground like peritoneum, slippery and foggy.

“No, babe.”

“Hm?”

“No, we’re going somewhere else. Put my jacket on. It’s cold.” Marie rushed her jacket off her shoulders and helped me into it. The wildlife was seemingly shouting all around us, and the sky was the deepest-blue cloak with the brightest shotgun holes over its surface. It was definitely a too late for my father.

“I hope this doesn’t take long because I really don’t feel so good,” I said, standing up with Marie’s help.

“It won’t take too long.” Marie took me to her SUV and opened the back door for me.

“I’d rather I sat in the front, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” she said after a moment, slightly puzzled. She helped me into the passenger seat and rushed to the driver’s side. “You don’t look so good.”

“Don’t feel it, either,” I said.

“What happened?”

“Oh… you know.” Marie thought it best to leave my vague comment alone. I was grateful because I wasn’t going to tell her, anyway. Not in my current state, at least.

“Did you read my letter?” she asked.

“Nope, haven’t done it yet. Still got it with me, though.”

“I’m sorry I left you guys, but I couldn’t stay… Derek—”

“Okay, stop. I know.” I fiddled with the air conditioning vent, half of my mind in another place. Some sad cowboy song was on the radio, and I can remember laughing because it didn’t fit with my picture of Marie.

“What happened to you?” Marie prodded again. I didn’t answer her. “Well, just try to wake up, okay? I’m going to show you something very important. You probably won’t like it, but… it may help.” Wait, what? I was forced to backtrack. What had happened, anyway? I felt sort of blinked out of time, like an essay is when you cut out a paragraph. I stopped messing around and stared at the double-circles of light on the Beaverton Highway. “What’s wrong?” Marie asked. “Are you… scared?”

“Something like that,” I muttered. My hand wandered to my pocket and touched at the corners of Marie’s envelope. When I couldn’t find the picture of my mother, I panicked for a moment, but the panic was washed down by shame when I remembered that I’d butchered it in the yard that afternoon.