Shark Girl Read Online Free Page A

I’m upset.
    Maybe because my mother
    needs therapy
    to deal with this thing,
    this thing that is me
    that has disrupted
    not just my life
    but hers, too.
    That’s what hurts.
    That I’ve caused her this.
    And that she and Mel will
    discuss
    behind that closed door
    what Mom is feeling.
    What
is
she feeling?
    I wish
    I could be a fly on the wall
    when she begins.
     

    Justin drew me a picture.
    Blobby men with stick legs
    and a sausage roll with long ears.
    “That’s my parents and my dog, Spot.”
    “You have a dog named
Spot
?” I ask.
    He nods. “I miss her.”
    I ask Michael to tape the drawing to the wall.
    “You’re a good artist, Justin,” he says.
    “Jane’s an artist, too.”
    Justin turns those blue eyes on me.
    “Will you draw me a —”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “I lost my hand, Justin. I can’t draw anymore.”
    He points to my left hand.
    “But you could use that one.”
    “I can’t, okay, Justin? It’s not my good hand.”
    Justin looks down. “
Both
my legs were good.
    But now I only have one, so it’s the good one.
    Isn’t it that way with your arm?”
    He doesn’t get it. No one gets it.
    I wish they would all leave me
    alone.
     

    Mom always waits for me
    outside of Mel’s office.
    She walks me back up
    to my room.
    Always smiles at Mel,
    says, “Thank you.”
    She waits until we’re in the elevator
    to look at my face,
    searching for red eyes.
    Her hand warms my shoulder,
    hugging with her fingers.
    One day, after Mom meets me,
    starts to turn us away,
    I catch Mel’s look.
    In that instant
    he sends me a silent message.
    “You need each other.”
    We step into the elevator. The flickering light
    makes our skin appear blue.
    I feel Mom’s fingers on my shoulder,
    soft, steady.
    I reach up and touch her hand.
    Both of us are surprised.
     

    In the gym today
    Justin fell down.
    His new leg shifted sideways
    when he got out of a chair.
    He fell down
    and he cried.
    Justin has never cried in therapy before.
    I hate life.
    Don’t even tell me
    God has a reason
    for making Justin suffer.
    Or me, either. He wouldn’t.
    Would he?
    I wish I could fix things for him,
    for me. For everyone.
    I wish I knew
    why some people live
    and some people die
    and some people
    get stuck
    in the middle.
     

    Grandma and Grandpa are leaving today.
    Aunt Karen and Uncle Ben arrive in time to say hello,
    trade hugs and thumps on the back,
    high voices, the smell of hairspray from Gram,
    pillowy cheeks and lined faces
    touched to mine; careful kisses.
    As Mom prepares to go home,
    everyone shuffles out into the hall together.
    Whispering ensues —
    I know they’re talking about me.
    That’s what they’re here for, I guess.
    To assure themselves
I’m
still here.
    I want them to sit by my bed
    and tell me the news from Kansas,
    but I want them to leave, too.
    I want
    to experience stillness.
     

    Dear Jane,
    I read about your story in the newspaper. My heart goes out to you. You are so young, and, judging by the picture in the paper, so beautiful. I have been in your place, Jane, and I am writing because if you’re anything like me you could use an encouraging word right now.
    My left leg was amputated above the knee ten years ago, after an accident at work in which I nearly died. At first I shut myself off from the rest of the world, even the people I loved. But then I joined a support group for amputees and let me tell you, it was the best thing in the world for me. It helps to see you’re not the only one going through all the adjustments that come with amputation.
    I went back to work eighteen months after the accident. Not long afterward, I got engaged to my boyfriend, William, who I met through the support group. He lost both legs in a car crash. William and I married seven years ago and I’ve never been happier. Both of us love to be outdoors and do all kinds of sports. We swim, sail, kayak, and ski. I also take yoga and find it highly relaxing.
    I’m enclosing a picture of us —