Jimmy Stone's Ghost Town (2 page)

She was just waking up when we walked
through the door into her room. Dad sat, reading a hunting
magazine, in the chair by the window.

"Hey," he said without even looking up.
"Take it easy on her. She's exhausted."

She'd been sleeping for
the past three weeks. How could she possibly be so tired? I could
barely put my head around the fact that Charlotte never came home
to live with us, and now my mom had a sudden case of
being-tired-
all
-the-time.

Mom wiped her eyes and tried to clear her
throat as I stood next to her bed wondering what exactly it was
that I was supposed to do. What do you say to your mom when she's
been sleeping all the time for so long? What do you ask your mom
when you come to visit her in the hospital? You definitely don't
ask her about Charlotte. I knew that much.

"Come here, Jimmy," she said and waved her
hand to tell me to come closer to her. "I want to see your little
face." Mom smiled and grabbed my hand as soon as it was in
range.

When I finally stood right next to her, she
lifted her hand and moved the hair off my forehead. "That's my
boy," she said and smiled again. "Give Mom a hug."

I leaned in cautiously, trying not to hurt
her or unplug one of the beeping, blinking machines or pull on one
of the tubes that were sticking out of about fifty places on her
body (and that was just the parts that I could see). Mom put her
hands around my neck and pulled me in as far as she could. Her
hands were cold and she didn't feel as strong as I was used to.

Before Mom and Dad came home from the
hospital without Charlotte, Mom used to give the best hugs. She'd
tell me to get a running start from across the kitchen and, just
before I was about to crash into her legs, she'd stick out her
arms, grab me by my armpits, toss me up in the air, and pull me in
tight. You might think that was something that only fathers did,
but my mom was just as strong as any man I knew, and she was
definitely stronger than anyone else's mom.

Mom held onto her hug as long as she could
before letting go of my neck and drifting slowly back into her
pillows. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

I stepped back from her bed and scanned the
room, not sure of what I should do next. Grandma was standing by
the door, her huge purse clutched tightly in her wrinkly hand, and
Dad looked like he was about to fall face-first in his magazine. I
hoped he wasn't catching Mom's sleepiness.

Mom still had her eyes closed so I started
to move away from the bed toward Grandma, but as soon as I turned
and made my first step I heard my mother call for me.

"Jimmy," she said as loudly as she could
(which, by the way, wasn't very loud at all), "I want to talk to
you for a minute."

I swung around and walked back to Mom's bed
until my legs were nudged right up against the marshmallow-white
sheets. Not sure if I should hold her hand, lay my head on her
shoulder, or crawl into bed with her, I shoved my hands in my
pockets and looked down at my shoes.

Mom coughed hard while waving me in even
closer. "Come here," she said, waving her hand right up to her
mouth. "I want to tell you a secret."

I looked back at Grandma, who was digging in
her purse again for who knows what, and then back at Mom.

"Come on," she said. "It's
a
really
good
one." She smiled as wide as she could manage and covered her mouth
to cough again.

I heard Dad start to snore quietly as I
leaned over the bed and put my ear up to Mom's mouth. She kissed me
quickly on the ear and laughed a little.

"Hey," I said and pulled my head away,
"what's the secret?" I shot my mom the mean face – that she
immediately knew wasn't serious – and put my hands on my hips.

"Okay. Okay. Come back over here."

I smiled and leaned my head back over the
bed and right up to her mouth. She breathed slowly and I could feel
the hot air on my ear. It took her a minute to catch her breath so
I waited patiently, my ear practically attached to her lips, to
hear the secret.

"You know, Jimmy," she finally whispered.
"You're the man of the house."

Was that it, I wondered? I left my ear there
to see if she had anything else to say, but when she just kissed me
on the cheek instead, I knew that was it for the secret.

"Thanks," I said, not sure exactly what to
say.

The room was quiet as Mom laid back down on
the pillows and I tried to figure out what she meant by that
secret. I mean, Dad was the man of the house, right?

Just as I was about to tap Mom on the
shoulder and ask her what in the heck she was talking about, I
heard Dad's magazine hit the floor and swung my head around to look
at him.

He'd obviously heard it fall too as he
started wiping his eyes and looking up at me and Grandma. He leaned
over, grabbed the magazine off the floor, and tossed it onto the
windowsill behind him.

"Ok, Jimmy," he said in a very stern,
fatherly tone. "I think your mother's had enough commotion for one
day." He looked over at Mom and, without getting up out of his
chair, shifted around until I guess he was comfortable. "You and
your grandmother should get going."

I pulled my hands off Mom's bed and shoved
them back inside my pockets. "Dad," I said, looking down at my
shoes again. "Is Mom going to come home soon?"

"Go home and get ready for bed," he told me
without even acknowledging my question. "You have school in the
morning and Grandma will have to be up early to drive you."

I swung my whole body around on one foot
and, without even looking up at Mom or Dad, started walking toward
Grandma at the door. I didn't really want to leave without Mom, but
I wasn't about to argue with Dad. I'd had enough of the hospital
anyway. All the white was starting to creep me out.

"Come on," Grandma said
and reached out her arm to coax me in (as if
that
was going to make me want to go
with her). She put her arm around my shoulder, grabbed the metal
door handle, and slowly started opening the door in front of
me.

"Wait, Jimmy," I heard from back inside the
room. It was Mom's voice. As much as she was struggling to get the
words out without falling asleep, I still instantly knew it was her
voice.

Grandma dropped her arm from my should to
let me spin around, but held the door open slightly just to make
sure we were still getting ready to leave.

All eyes were focused on Mom as she looked
over at me.

"What did you name him?" she asked, her eyes
wide with what looked like excitement at knowing the answer to her
question.

"Who?" I asked, puzzled by her question.

"Your puppy, Jimmy. The one I gave you when
I came home from the hospital."

"Oh," I said, finally catching on.
"Trex."

"Trex?"

"Yeah, like the T. Rex," I said and grinned.
"He's really strong and growls a lot. You don't like it?"

Mom closed her eyes and smiled just about as
widely as I'd ever seen her smile.

"It's a great name, Jimmy," she said as
Grandma put her arm around my shoulder again and started pulling me
through the door. "He'll always be there when you need him. He'll
always be there to lead the way. Really, it's a great name,
Jimmy."

I waved goodbye to Mom and chuckled to
myself as we walked out into the busy hallway.

"It's a great name, Jimmy," were the last
words I ever heard Mom say.

Chapter Three

Dad and I didn't see much of Grandma after
everything happened with Mom. I can remember her driving me home
from the hospital that night and I can remember her shushing Trex
as we walked through the door. The little guy was yapping away from
inside his tiny cage. She made me drink a glass of warm milk -
which she said would "make you dream about your mother" - and
tucked me into bed, but that's the last significant memory I have
of Grandma.

I know she stuck around for the next few
days and took care of me (like Mom normally would have) while Dad
was at the hospital all day long, but it all seems like a big,
messy cloud now.

Dad eventually came walking up that same
gravel driveway, this time just pushing a folded-up wheelchair and
mumbling to himself.

"Where's Mom?" I asked as he approached the
door I was leaning against, Trex sitting patiently at my feet. "Is
she staying at the hospital still?"

"Mom's not coming to live with us anymore,
Jimmy." He tossed the wheelchair to the side of the porch and
shoved past me through the door. Trex's head shot up and whipped
around to watch Dad cross the kitchen to the refrigerator. He
plopped his little, furry head back onto my feet just as Dad
slammed his beer against the counter to pop the top and threw back
a hard gulp. "Sorry I don't have another puppy for you," he said
without looking up at me. "I guess you'll have to make do with the
one your mother gave you."

I didn't even bother to acknowledge what Dad
had said and, instead, knelt down to pet Trex before slamming the
door behind me.

"Don't you slam that door," I heard him say
from inside the house as I lifted the wheelchair off the porch and
unfolded it.

I rolled the wheelchair right up behind the
porch railing, sat down in it, and scooped Trex into my lap. It
smelled like it might rain and the clouds moved fast across the
dark sky. I closed my eyes and thought about what might have
happened to Mom, where she might be, and my fate as "man of the
house." I had no idea what Dad and I were going to do without her,
but it didn't look good in my mind.

Trex nudged his head further into my lap,
scratched his ear, and looked up at me as if he were wondering the
exact same things.

"I know, buddy," I said and petted the dark
brown fur between his ears. "I know."

Chapter Four

When you're in third grade and your father
tells you that you're almost-sister isn't coming home to live with
the family after all, it's pretty shocking, but not exactly
something that you don't get over. I mean, I never even knew
Charlotte (other than as a lump in Mom's belly) so I didn't really
have much to be upset about. But when your father comes home from
the hospital, three weeks later, without your mom and tells you
that she won't be living with you anymore either, things start to
get a little weird. No more almost-sister and no more Mom makes for
an upset Dad.

Between all that happening to us and Grandma
taking off, it seemed like things were never going to get back to
normal. If I hadn't had Trex, I don't know what I'd have done.

Dad worked all the time and, when he wasn't
working, he'd come home, go to the fridge to grab a beer, and plop
down in front of the TV. It didn't matter if I was already sitting
three feet in front of the screen, he'd flip the channel to
something he wanted to watch, take a long swig of beer, and lean
back into our old, brown couch.

"Come on, Trex," I'd say before storming out
of the living room, my dog following right behind me. "Dad's
watching TV now."

I would have been
surprised if Dad even realized that I basically ran out of the
room. Ever since he came from the hospital without Mom, he'd been
different. It's hard to describe, but he was just
different
. He didn't
seem like Dad anymore, no matter what Trex and I tried to
do.

Once I made it down the hall, slammed the
door to my room, and flopped face-first onto my bed, I heard my
dad's muffled voice barely reaching through the door. Trex curled
up at the bottom of the bed, his chin resting on his paws. When he
heard Dad's mumbling, he raised his head and gave me a quick
bark.

The last thing I really wanted to do was get
off my bed and find out what Dad wanted, but it probably would have
only made it worse if I ignored him.

As I got closer to my door, I could hear
that Dad was still rambling about something. I swung open the door
and stuck my head out into the hallway.

"What's that, Dad?" I asked, trying
desperately to sound as polite and genuinely concerned as possible.
"Trex was barking and I couldn't hear you." I knew he'd have no
idea whether Trex was really barking or not.

"You know, Jimmy," he said and coughed
loudly. "If you could shut that damn dog up, you might be able to
hear what your father is telling you every once in a while."

I stood silent in the
doorway waiting for him to say something (
anything
) else. I didn't want to ask
him again (because I knew he hated that), but I had a good feeling
that he wasn't done talking.

I heard Dad cough again, and realized that I
was right. He definitely wasn't done.

"So, Jimmy," he yelled loud enough for me to
hear down the hall. "I was thinking. Charlotte. Your mother. Your
grandmother." He coughed again and I scratched my head, wondering
just what he was getting at with all this.

"What's that, Dad?"

Uh oh. Big mistake. I
think I actually heard him
growl
after I asked that question.

"Do you think you could do your father a
favor, Jimmy?" He paused for a second, as if I were really supposed
to respond to that question. "How about you pay your father enough
respect to at least walk down the hall and join him in the living
room when he asks to speak with you?" He paused again and I opened
my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it. "Or is that too much to
ask?"

"Sorry, Dad. I'll be right there."

I tapped my leg and nodded my head for Trex
to follow me to the living room. He jumped off the bed, ran over to
my bedroom door, and sat up straight right next to me. "Good boy,"
I whispered and patted him on the head.