House Arrest Read Free Page B

fireproof sharks circling it.
I imagine it on fire in an ocean of lava
with fireproof sharks circling it
and shooting it with their laser eyes.
There are never any groceries to go in the trunk. I say it quietly. To the box.
Levi starts coughing.
Mom goes to him.
When I kick the box, more stuff falls out.
The suction machine is louder than my kicks.
I kick and kick and kick
until Mom stops suctioning
until Levi stops coughing.
Now I’m in my room.
The box is not on fire.
And it’s not in the trunk.
And the bobblehead is not in my hand.
And I’m not thinking about Dad.
And how he sucks even more than the suction machine.

    You know those super sunny days?
The ones that come out of nowhere,
where every slant of sunshine
bursts through the window blinds
warming up whatever they touch
not too hot
but just right
and you can feel the sun burning on your face
burning in a good way
like if you could stand inside fireworks and not
get burned?
This fresh-squeezed orange juice
left on the porch
with a box of chocolate doughnuts
and a bag of breakfast tacos
with fiery red salsa
is making the inside of my mouth feel
just like those fireworks
just like that slant of sunshine.

WEEK 10
    I know I can’t go to José’s house
to help work on the car.
Duh, James.
I was just mentioning it, that’s all.
You don’t have to always jump down my throat
trying to snatch away my words
like they are bombs about to tear the world apart.
I’m just writing in my journal
like I’m supposed to do.
Jeez.
Do you think every thought I have
is about breaking rules?
Do you think every thought I have
is about how to drive you crazy?
Your squinched-up lips
and grouchy eyebrows
say yes.
Ugh.
Could you be more of a tool?
That is not a challenge.

    Baby Signing Adventure. A DVD left on the mat,
seemingly innocent
but like a time bomb
ticking ticking ticking
MILK MILK MILK
in a CUP CUP CUP
I LOVE LOVE LOVE
My MILK in a CUP.
MORE MORE MORE
MILK in my CUP
I LOVE LOVE LOVE
MORE MILK in my CUP.
Someone left this DVD for Levi
but as a punishment for me,
right?
Because, you guys.
This is worse than juvie.
I am not even kidding.
Five times he’s watched this DVD today.
FIVE TIMES.
Happy leg kicking away.
I can almost see the smoke
shooting from his ears
as that little brain of his works and works.
But seriously.
Baby Signing Adventure might kill me.
For real.
My ears will bleed from all those songs.
My heart will explode from running
to get away from Miss Jill
and her pointy talking fingers.
But Levi can’t get enough.
So thanks.
Whoever left it here.
I guess.

    No, Mrs. B.
There is no way
no how
no where
no when
that Mom would ever
in one million years
allow a benefit to raise money
to help us.
Because we don’t need help.
We’re just like everyone else.
Or so she says.

    I got home from school,
Marisol handed me a package.
An envelope with padding.
Can you fit a million dollars
in an envelope with padding?
I opened it and must have given her a look
because she laughed.
What are these?
Chains.
I can see that, Marisol.
For Levi. Come here. Help me.
We burrito-ized Levi.
I whispered the story in his ear,
the one about the dragon
and the knight who talks with his fingers.
Marisol unfastened the fabric around his neck,
the ties that hold his trach in place,
the ties that get ten times disgusting
whenever he barfs
or spits out his milk
or sweats
or all of those things combined.
Marisol gently pulled the ties away from the trach,
using her other hand to hold the trach in Levi’s neck.
One slip,
one distraction,
and the trach could fall out,
could mean no more breathing for Levi.
Hand me the chains? I handed them over and she measured the perfect fit.
Cut right here. I took the wire cutters from the package.
I cut right there.
Marisol connected the chain through the trach
and around Levi’s neck.
No more yucky ties. She smiled.
So easy to clean. I smiled.
And look at that cute little neck! Levi smiled.
OK. So. Not as