One (Sarah Crossan)

Other Reasons

Grammie puts Dad to bed,

turns on the TV,

and settles in for the night,

a whole menu of prerecorded

programs ahead of her.

Dragon is in her room

dressed in a leotard and ballet slippers

staring at herself in a full-length mirror.

She dips and dives,

her body a fountain.

‘He’s always wasted,’ she says,

stopping to sip

at a glass of water.

He is.

It’s true.

But what can we do

except try to be perfect

and hope it’ll keep him happy

and sober—

which it never does.

‘So …’ Dragon says,

‘How did it go?’

‘It was great,’ I say aloud,

finally.

Tippi and I

flop down on to Dragon’s bed

even though we should be

getting started on the dinner.

‘We’re definitely staying,’ Tippi says

and I nod.

Jon creeps

into my mind—

his nut-coloured eyes and star-lined hands.

I shake him away,

this boy I just met,

this boy I hardly know

because

he can’t be why I like Hornbeacon.

I need other reasons.

I need other reasons

or I’ll go mad with

longing.