House Arrest by K.A. Holt Read Free Book Online Page A

the door,
just like always, her smile showing first.
Hola, mijo. Her voice smooth,
like a hand on my cheek.
She pulled me into a hug.
I couldn’t pull away, so I gave in.
Melted a little, I guess,
feeling her bigness surround me,
her softness protecting me
like those heavy pillows Mrs. B uses,
keeping me still
keeping me calm.
Thank you, Carmen. Mom’s voice sounded smiley but tight.
Levi’s clinic appointments can go really long, three doctors,
physical therapy, occupational therapy,
speech therapy . . .
José’s mom held up her hand.
I’ll drop him at school and pick him up after.
No te preocupes. Mom’s hand reached out,
squeezed José’s mom’s hand.
You’re a lifesaver, Carmen. I can tell by Mom’s voice, though,
she’s going to be preocupes by a lot of things.

    Levi doesn’t understand.
He squirms.
He fusses.
Marisol is holding him to her chest.
Squeezing him.
Smelling his baby hair.
A tear falls down her cheek.
I look away.
This is all my fault.
Something that seemed so good.
Has turned out terrible.
Yet again.
Keep me updated. Mom nods.
She has on her I Am Brave and Will Not Cry face.
I’ll be back to visit. Mom nods again.
Timothy. Marisol puts Levi down.
She turns to me.
Does she hate me?
Does she know this is my fault?
Marisol signs brother. She sniffs. She smiles.
Keep teaching him, OK? I sign OK because now it’s my throat that’s too tight to talk.

    Feelings, feelings, feelings.
How is it that
I can have so many feelings
that they all swirl together
until I feel so much all at one time
that it’s almost like I feel
nothing at all?
I’m not making sense.
Sorry.

    Can I still use your computer?
Mrs. B?
Please?

    Tiny curls all over her head.
Gray. Like dishwater.
Her face
like someone with giant fingers
pinched her mouth, nose, eyes
into a point.
Her scrubs
covered in clowns.
Clowns.
Really.
Yes.
Clowns.
And her voice?
Fake, high-pitched.
She talks to Levi like he’s a dog.
An especially stupid dog.
Mary.
That’s her name.
So close to Marisol , but so different.
I hate her so much
my hands shake.
What have I done?

WEEK 2 3
    All I’m saying is
you haven’t met her
have you, James?
No.
So you can say hate is a strong word
and I will hear your words
like Mrs. B says.
I will digest your words
like a chicken leg
bouncing in my stomach.
I will let your words
move through my blood vessels
infiltrate my brain
leave deposits of word vitamins
through my whole self.
But I won’t stop saying hate because I do hate her.
Also, I do not think Mrs. B agrees with you.
She likes feeling words, James.
They are her sunshine.
So don’t tell me all these things you know.
You don’t know anything.

    Dear James,
Mrs. B is making me write this.
You are right and I am wrong.
Mrs. B does, in fact, hate the word hate .
Well, I guess she dislikes the word hate .
Very much.
Feeling words can be strong.
They can have muscles
and meat on their bones.
They can express your spinning guts,
they can shout your insides to the outside
(but different than throwing up
which you can call shouting groceries if you want
because I read it somewhere
so that’s a thing I am not making up).
But feeling words should also be meaningful .
That’s what Mrs. B says.
Hate is not meaningful .
Hate is not productive .
Hate shouts groceries all over more complex emotions .
You know, writing this letter is making me want to
shout groceries.
Mary makes me want to
shout groceries.
A lot of times, James, YOU make me want to
shout groceries.
And Mrs. B.
Oh, you are the queen.
The queen of spinning my guts.
So I’m sorry, James,
for saying you don’t know anything.
Because you know everything.
JAMES KNOWS ALL OF THE THINGS.
JAMES IS THE KING OF EVERYTHING.
Mrs. B is reading over my shoulder.
Her cheeks are so red.
Hahaha.
She is really ma—

    Levi was wearing cloth trach ties
instead of the chains.
Thick, damp ties
smelling of sour milk,
baby