Mary Jane by Jessica Blau (debian ebook reader TXT) 📗

“Rowboats or anchors?” I said.

“Rowboats,” Izzy said.

Once Izzy and I had finished unpacking, I took the week’s worth of recipe cards I had brought to the dining room table andread them to Izzy. She wanted to pick the order of meals. The dining room was open to the kitchen, where Mrs. Cone and Shebawere unpacking the bags of groceries—mostly snacks—we’d brought. They were talking about Jimmy and his progress. The way theyspoke made Jimmy sound like a little boy—taking responsibility, learning to be alone, figuring out how to sit still with his thoughts, stopping himself and thinking before he takes action. I was glad Jimmy wasn’t around to hear them.

Dr. Cone walked onto the screened porch off the kitchen. “BONNIE!” he shouted in.

“WHAT?!” Mrs. Cone shouted back.

Dr. Cone lowered his voice. “What if we worked here?”

Mrs. Cone and Sheba walked into the screened porch. Izzy and I watched. Sheba thought it was too public and the rest of uswould feel banned from the house.

Jimmy came downstairs, wearing his jean shorts and nothing else, and sat at the table with me and Izzy. Hanging from his neck was the leather-and-feather necklace. In his hand was a wide-brimmed straw hat with a red bandanna-print scarf tied around it. The hat looked like it belonged to a woman. “What are you two up to?” he asked.

“We, uh . . .” I blushed. We were eavesdropping, but I didn’t want to admit it.

“We’re making the order of the dinner. Here.” Izzy stood on the chair and spread out the index cards like a train in frontof Jimmy. “First, mac ’n’ cheese! Which one’s mac and cheese?”

“Find the letter M and then A,” I said. “M, ma ma ma. And A, ah, ah, ah.”

“Ma, ma, ma.” Izzy ran her finger along the cards.

Dr. Cone, Mrs. Cone, and Sheba returned to the kitchen. “What if you worked on the beach?” Mrs. Cone asked. “I saw a stackof chairs in the garage.”

“Not a bad idea.” Dr. Cone looked over at the three of us.

“MAC AND CHEESE!” Izzy waved the correct recipe card.

“We’re gonna make an office on the beach?” Jimmy asked.

“What do you think of that? It could be productive to feel connected to the ocean, the sky, the sand.”

“It’s cool. I like it.” Jimmy nodded and then he stood. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Alone?” Sheba sounded nervous.

“Yeah. Just wanna clear my head.”

“Maybe I should go with you,” Sheba said.

“I’m fine. Relax.”

“Why are you getting defensive? Why can’t I go with you?” Sheba’s voice was tightening. Her face was as pointed as an arrow.

“I just want to be alone for a few minutes! What’s the fucking crime?!” Jimmy verged on yelling.

“Did you phone someone?! Tell me you didn’t phone someone!” Sheba was yelling now.

“Who the fuck am I going to phone?! We’re in a fucking shithole town in Maryland!”

“We’re in motherfucking Delaware!” Sheba walked to Jimmy and stood so that her face was only inches from his. With her mouthdrawn shut like that, she looked ten years older.

“HOW THE FUCK WOULD I CALL SOMEONE IF I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT FUCKING STATE I’M IN?”

Izzy climbed on top of the dining room table. She rearranged the index cards as if nothing unusual were happening. But I couldsee that she was anxious: her barely noticeable eyebrows were pulled together, and her mouth churned as she quietly spoketo herself.

“It’s okay.” Dr. Cone put up both hands, fingers spread. “Jimmy, I feel your frustration. I can see that it pains you thatSheba doesn’t trust you.”

“THE FUCK I DON’T! HE SCORED IN THE ALLEY BEHIND YOUR FUCKING HOUSE!”

“Sheba,” Dr. Cone said. “I feel your anxiety. You love Jimmy. He had a setback. You’re carrying a lot of fear. And I can seethat you feel responsible for him.”

Izzy whispered, “Mac and cheese tonight.”

“She’s not my fucking mother,” Jimmy said.

“Yeah, I’m not an alcoholic chasing you around the house with a lethal wrought-iron fire poker!”

“The FUCK, Sheba! It was an ash shovel!”

“Why don’t we do this? Let me check Jimmy’s pockets, make sure he has no cash, and we’ll put a time limit on the walk. You okay with that, Jimmy?” Dr. Cone put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder and rubbed, as if he were trying to warm him up.

Jimmy nodded, stuck his hands into his front jean shorts pockets, and pulled out the linings. He turned and Dr. Cone pattedhis back pockets.

“Don’t forget your hat.” Izzy stood on the table and held out the straw hat.

Dr. Cone took the hat, then looked inside it and ran his finger under the scarf. He handed the hat to Jimmy. “An hour okay?”

“What about ninety minutes?”

“What direction are you going?” Sheba asked. “To the left or the right?”

Jimmy shrugged.

“Pick one.”

“Right.”

“Nope,” Sheba said. “Go left.”

“Okay, left.”

“You’re fucking playing with me, aren’t you? You knew I’d switch it, so you gave me the opposite direction.”

Dr. Cone looked flummoxed. Mrs. Cone was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching. Izzy had crouched back down and wasrearranging the cards again.

“Fine. You tell me what direction to go and that’s the direction I’ll go.” Jimmy’s chest was heaving. I worried he’d startthrowing things or shouting again. But he didn’t. Sheba did.

“YOU SNEAKY MOTHERFUCKER! IF YOU MEET ONE PERSON ON THAT BEACH, I’M FUCKING CUTTING OFF YOUR BALLS! YOU HEAR ME?!”

“What are Jimmy’s balls?” Izzy whispered to me. “Do I have balls?”

“It’s another word for testicles,” I whispered back. “You know, like in your coloring book?”

“YOU CANNOT FUCKING POLICE ME LIKE THIS! YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME SPACE TO BREATHE YOU GODDAMMED—” Jimmy stopped and shook hishead. I quickly assessed the throwable breakables in the room. There wasn’t much. He’d have to open a cupboard.

“Breathe in, breathe out,” Dr. Cone said. “Sheba, you too. Just breathe in and out. Let’s have a quick meditation moment.”

Dr. Cone, Jimmy, and Sheba turned so they were standing in a circle facing each other. Mrs. Cone joined them. Sheba stillhad on her old lady face and Jimmy’s chest continued to heave.

“I breathe in, I