House Arrest by K.A. Holt

judge will send me to juvie
because I think Mary has dishwater hair
and wants to break up my family.
So there.
I hate her. For real.
Don’t make me hate you, too.

    I know hate is a strong word, Mrs. B.
I know you hate it.
I’m sort of sorry I said it.
But only sort of.
And only about James.
I would never hate James.
At least not every day.

    Timothy’s Big Fat Hate Dislike List
Mary
Dr. Sawyer, but only if he doesn’t write back soon
The way José looks at me when I smile at Isa
Messed-up tracheas
Dad
Not necessarily in that order

    Our favorite flying squirrel showed up today,
all smiles and googly eyes,
cooing at Levi,
telling Mom that everything looks great,
the investigation is closed.
I should be happy.
I want to be happy.
But
But
But
There’s always a big but when
Carla Ramirez, the flying squirrel, is involved.
I’m so glad you’re seriously giving it some thought, she said,
and my head whipped around so fast
my brain jiggled.
It’s a lovely facility.
We’re lucky to have something like it in town.
And with the state benefits
for a medically fragile child needing nursing home care, well . . .
it would help so much.
At least Mom’s smile was weak.
At least she looked like she might throw up.
At least I didn’t punch Mary in the face for smiling.
At least I didn’t leap on the flying squirrel’s back
lucha libre style.
See, Mrs. B?
I’m learning to control my outbursts.
Ten gold stars for Timothy
as we march closer
to the end of the world.

    We could visit any time.
We could even stay with him.
There are doctors and nurses 24 hours a day.
I don’t even have words.
She can’t be serious.
It has to be the tiredness talking,
the no money talking.
It’s not Mom talking.
It’s not.
It’s Mary talking through her.
It’s Carla Ramirez, loudmouth flying squirrel,
using Mom’s mouth like a puppet.
Mom.
Look at him. Levi, hanging on his wedge,
clonking himself in the head
with his bottle
doing his wheezy laugh
signing more . You can’t give him to strangers.
You’d kill him.
Everything inside him.
You’d kill it. Levi stopped laughing
barfed
started to choke
set off his oxygen alarms.
Mom grabbed the suction machine
cleared his airway
gave him oxygen puffs
through the trach.
His color went back to normal.
The alarms stopped beeping.
I’m afraid I’m killing him here. She whispered it so softly
I thought maybe I didn’t really hear it.
But I did.
I’m afraid, Timothy.
I’m afraid for him anywhere.
I’m afraid all the time.
Every day. I’m never not afraid, Timothy.
I’m never not afraid for him.
And when she looked at me,
really looked at me,
I saw how scared she was
and it scared me.
It scared me a lot.

WEEK 37
    Weighing things,
what-if-ing things,
figuring things out.
Maybe I should tell Mom about Cincinnati
even without finding the money first.
Maybe she’ll stop with all the facility stuff
if she knew we could go there.
Maybe she’d be OK with being part of the
Carnival of Giving.
Maybe I don’t need to wait for Dr. Sawyer.
Maybe it’s time for a Hail Mary pass.

    You can quit, you know. If you hate this so much. She whipped her head around.
I almost expected to see fangs bared.
Why would you think I hate this? She set down the tubing she was draining,
stared at me.
I waited for the fangs.
I see your eye rolls, Mary.
Your sighs.
Those groans when you change his diaper. She put her hands on her hips.
I don’t know what you mean, Timothy. Yeah. I’m sure she doesn’t.
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.

    Wonder of wonders!
Miracle of miracles!
Mary is home sick today!
I have never been so happy
to help take Levi to his appointments.
All day doctors
and therapists
and blah blah blah.
But it will be just me and Mom and Levi.
All day.
We’ll make it fun.
I’ll make it fun.
Mom won’t even think once about
having to take the day off
and not get paid
because