Sam, page 3
Sam sits in the tub, while her mom washes and washes her hair. Eventually, Sam asks, “Are you and Jack getting married?”
“No.”
“Could you marry Dad, then?”
“No! I’m not marrying anyone.”
“Dad’s not anyone.”
“Close your eyes.” Her mom is pouring water over her.
“Why don’t you like him?” Sam asks with her eyes closed.
“I like him.”
“No, you don’t. You never let Dad live here.”
“He doesn’t want to.”
Sam opens her eyes at the wrong time, and she gets a face full of water. “How do you know?” she splutters, because she can’t believe that. He doesn’t live with them because her mom won’t let him.
“Sam.” That means don’t even start.
But why does Courtney let Jack stay? Just because he kisses her and paints the walls and takes Noah outside in the morning so she can sleep?
Jack never takes Sam anywhere. He yells at her because she steps in the paint tray. He swears at Sam, and Courtney snaps at him—but families help one another, so when Sam comes down with strep and stays home from school, Jack watches her. She has strawberry tongue. This is what Pat, the nurse practitioner, says. Sam takes pink bubblegum medicine and sleeps all morning while Jack paints her mom’s bedroom.
When she wakes up, she smells smoke. She knows that smell. It’s like dead flowers and wet socks.
“No smoking in the house,” she tells Jack, because it’s true.
She is standing in footed pajamas in the doorway to the living room. He is drinking from his flask and blowing smoke and watching TV on the couch.
He ignores her, so she stands in front of him. “You can’t do that.”
“Move,” he says, because she is blocking the screen.
“Put it out.”
Now he stares at her.
“You can’t smoke in our house.”
“It’s not your house.”
“We lived here before you did!”
“I said move.” He stands up and he is like a bear on his hind legs.
“You’re gonna get it,” she tells Jack, but he is big. He is way bigger than she is and he picks her up. She tries to squirm away. She can’t. She tries to break his grip. She can’t. She bites his arm, instead.
He gasps. “Get off me!”
She holds on fighting, but he throws her off. The room springs sideways and she lands in a heap on the front steps. When she tries the knob, it’s locked.
The cement is cold. She’s out of breath. If her dad were here, he would break down the door. No, he would pull the key out of his hat. Then he would break Jack.
Her dad hates Jack. Once when he came to pick up Sam, he called Jack a lying piece of shit.
Her mom said, “Watch your language,” because Sam was standing there.
He said, “Sorry, monkey,” but later, Sam heard him ask her mom, “What are you doing?”
Courtney said, “You’re asking me that?”
Sam’s dad would chase Jack all the way to the highway if he were here, but he is not.
She looks up and down the road, but there is not a single car. She is too cold to sit here on the step. It’s too cold to climb the tree.
Sam could go to the neighbors, but they are far, and what if they call the police? They will take her away. Jack will say, Good.
She hugs her knees to her chest and looks up at the sky. She closes her eyes and bows her head and prays, Please help me. Tell me what to do.
Nothing happens. Nobody tells her anything, but she has to get up. Her teeth are chattering. She will walk to the farm stand, all the way at the end of the road. She will ask them to call her mom to come and get her.
As soon as she decides this, the door opens. Jack is letting her back in.
She knows that he is thinking, What will Courtney say?
He starts talking about how he isn’t angry anymore. His voice is quiet, but he is a bear, underneath his skin.
He says, “What if we go out for ice cream later?” but she won’t even look at him, so he gives up. He turns around and leaves the door open, just a crack.
She stays out on the steps until she can’t feel her feet. Finally, she runs to her room and shuts herself in. She drags Noah’s mattress over to the door and piles all his toys on top. Then she finds markers and draws on the back of her math worksheet.
In her picture, Jack throws her out the open door. Sam’s mouth is open in an O. Her arms are wide with surprise. Jack’s hair is thick and angry like fur. Gray clouds are puffing from his mouth.
When Courtney comes home with Noah, she sees the picture. “Okay, what’s going on?”
Sam is afraid to tell her.
Jack does instead.
Courtney turns to Sam. “You bit him?”
Sam says, “He smoked in the house and I wouldn’t move so he picked me up and I bit him, and then he threw me out!”
Now Courtney turns on Jack. “You what?”
Fight, fight, fight all night.
He says, Look at my arm. She bit me like a fucking dog.
Courtney says, You locked her out?
Sam and Noah hide in their room. They pretend that they’re in outer space. Mostly Sam pretends, while Noah falls asleep. Sam stays awake, because she is afraid Jack will barge in the door. She sits up until she hears Jack’s truck and then she holds still listening to him drive away.
5
In the morning, Sam is still sick, and Courtney has a headache, but Noah is running all around. Sam starts asking what will happen, but her mom is hunting for the pink medicine in the fridge and telling Noah, “Stop it.” That’s because her head is splitting but she has to work anyway, and who will watch Sam now?
“I’ll help you, Mom,” says Sam. She has more energy, now that Jack is gone. She finds Noah’s socks. They even match. “Sit here,” she orders, as she stuffs his feet into them.
Usually, her mom would thank her.
They drop off Noah and then Courtney takes Sam to work at Jennifer Salon. It’s because Sam is still contagious. Also, her mom has no choice. “Oh my God, Jen,” says Courtney, the minute she walks in the door.
Jen is Cousin Jen, who calls Sam sweetheart. Jen owns the shop and bleaches her hair blond.
The salon is right on Cabot Street. It’s purple and green like Easter. There is a big clock that runs backward in the mirror and there are lollipops, but they are very small. You can refill the candy or be an astronaut under the dryer.
The salon is right near Family Dollar, and two doors down, you can buy coffee from the Donut Stop. Sam is the delivery girl. Jen gives her money and Sam buys one black coffee and one latte. She carries them back, walking slowly.
“Thank you, sweetheart! Just put it there,” says Jen, because she has a client. Her client is old, and she is there with her daughter who sits under the dryer. Even the daughter is old. She has a tricky knee.
“I’ll take mine now,” says Courtney, and she drinks long sips. She has a client too, a lady with aluminum foil packets all over her head. She is going lighter. She will have streaks of gold.
Sam watches in the mirror and her mom is like an actor smiling. As soon as her client leaves, Courtney sinks down on the stool behind the counter.
Sam is tired too. She curls up in a big swivel chair.
“Aw, she’s sleeping,” Jen says.
Courtney whispers something. She talks for a long time, but Sam can’t hear.
At last, Jen whispers back, “Do you even want him there?”
Sam holds still, listening. Her mom says, “That’s the problem. It’s his parents’ house.”
Jen says, “Fuck ’em. Move to town.”
“With what?”
With me? Sam thinks. With Noah?
The door is opening; the bell is ringing. Cold air rushes in.
“Hey.”
It’s Jack. Sam’s eyes open. Then she squeezes them shut. She curls up tighter.
“I just thought…” He’s being nice again.
Courtney says, “I’m working.”
“Can I just?”
“No.”
“Just give me five minutes.”
Watching through her eyelashes, Sam sees Courtney lead Jack to the back door, Employees Only.
She sits up and Jen says, “You weren’t sleeping, were you?”
Cousin Jen and Sam look at each other in the mirror. Jen is tanned. Sam is pale and freckled. Her eyes are copper brown.
“You’re fine,” says Jen. “You’re gonna be okay.”
Sam says, “I have strawberry tongue.”
“Let’s see.”
Sam sticks out her tongue.
“Looks fine to me!”
“It’s pink.”
“Your tongue is supposed to be pink.”
“It’s pink with bumps.”
“If you say so.”
Sam frowns. “That’s strawberry tongue.”
“Okay, you don’t have to get upset about it.”
“I still have a fever.” Sam glances at the Employees Only door.
“Listen,” says Jen. “Your mom won’t let anything happen to you.”
“But she can’t be everywhere at once.”
Jen laughs. “You are a piece of work.” She always says this, and Sam can’t tell if it is good or bad.
Doorbell. Freezing cold. It’s Courtney’s next client, a mean lady who carries a rolled-up newspaper, like she’s about to kill a bug.
Jen says, “Hi, Theresa! Courtney just stepped out! She’ll be with you in a minute! Can I get you some water?” She takes a bottle from the mini-fridge and hands Theresa a short black kimono.
Theresa sits at Courtney’s station and starts rattling her paper as Jen says, “You remember Sam.”
Sam watches the clock running backward in the mirror. It’s supposed to be eleven. Then it’s supposed to be two minutes past, but it gets earlier and earlier.
Courtney comes running, and she talks fast. “Hello, Theresa! How are you? Are we doing the same color?” Theresa’s hair is light brown and gray, the color of a mouse. “Let me mix that up for you!” She is squeezing out the color into her bowl and mixing it together. You can’t tell she has a splitting headache. Her hands keep working, even though she never slept.
Jack does not come in again, but when Sam looks out at Cabot Street, she sees his black truck parked there.
6
“Can I sleep over?” Sam asks her dad, the next Saturday she sees him.
“I don’t think your mom would like that.”
“Yes, she would!” The October sun is shining, and they are driving to a real climbing gym called Boulders. “Please? With Noah? She really needs a break.”
He smiles, but then he says, “I have a gig in Salem.”
“I can play with you!”
“Then you have to practice.”
Sam flops back in her seat and her dad laughs. She has already started drums, accordion, and ukulele—but she only likes playing with her dad. It’s the same with magic. “Please, Dad.”
“Okay, this is gonna be cool,” Mitchell says as they pull up. “This is a whole open house for kids.”
The gym is huge. It’s a million stories high, all decorated for Halloween.
There is face painting. There is a popcorn machine like at the movies. There is soda in designated areas. There is music, and there are kids running everywhere.
First your parent or guardian signs the waivers. Then you write a name tag for yourself and stick it to your shirt. After all that, you line up for shoes. Sam hands over her sneakers and borrows size two climbing shoes. They are the opposite of elf shoes. They have long toes pointing down.
“Where to?” Mitchell asks.
There are walls and towers everywhere, but also lines. The shortest lines are for the little walls. These walls are so small you don’t need ropes. If you fall, you land on blue gymnastics mats. “That’s just for little kids,” says Sam, but her dad tells her no. These are the bouldering walls.
The good thing about bouldering is when you fall off you can jump up and try again right away. You don’t have to glide down and wait your turn to get strapped into a harness all over again.
It’s weird. There are handholds, but the wall juts out at all angles, so you’re never climbing straight. You hold on tight and use your fingers and your toes. You can see the floor, but if you touch the ground, you’re out. Sam tries and tries one certain wall. It’s like a puzzle. Actually, it’s better than a puzzle, because you are the missing piece. She jumps and tries and jumps and tries until her arms start hurting and her fingers cramp. She is surprised, and then she starts getting upset, because she can’t make it to the top.
She flops down on the mat.
“Okay.” Her dad stands over her. “This is where you keep getting stuck. Think where to reach.”
She skootches over on the mat and looks up at the spot. A green hold, a bumpy place, a ledge that’s red.
One of the Boulders STAFF comes over. “Hi, Sam.”
She is surprised the STAFF already know her name. Then she remembers her name tag.
The STAFF says, “My name is Toby. How’s it going?”
“Good.” She is still lying on her back. At first, she can’t tell whether Toby is a boy or a girl. Toby’s hair is short as a boy’s, but her voice is like a girl’s. Probably she is a girl. Her body is small, but she has muscles all over.
“Have you tried the other walls?”
“No.”
“You might like those.”
“No, I like this one.”
“It’s tricky.”
“That’s okay.” Sam is afraid Toby will say this one is for older children, so she scrambles up again.
Toby offers her a bag. Sam thinks it’s popcorn. Then she realizes it’s white chalk.
Sam dunks her hands so that they’re white, and then she tries and tries again.
Her dad and Toby watch together now.
“Almost!” her dad calls.
Toby says, “Push off with your left foot.”
She’s to the point where she can climb to the green hold in just two seconds. It’s the red ledge she can’t reach. She grazes the outcropping with her fingertips.
“Ohhh, almost!” Toby cries.
“You can do it,” her dad says.
She falls, and they are both talking at once.
“Great effort,” Toby says.
Her dad says, “It’s okay, Sam.”
It’s not okay. Her arms are too short! She can touch the ledge, but she can’t grab it. She wants to kick the wall, but Toby says, “We have a kids’ team, Little Boulders. Eight and under.”
The team meets on Saturdays, and there is a fee, but there are also scholarships. You should have your own shoes, but for now you can borrow from the gym. The team is for fun, but they also compete and train for higher levels. Toby started out that way and now she climbs in high school.
Mitchell says, “Wow, what do you think, Sam?”
She is still glaring at the wall.
* * *
—
“You’d really learn something on a team,” Mitchell tells Sam in the car.
“Like what?”
“How to solve problems.”
“What problems?”
“You’d learn how to climb that boulder.”
“I know how to climb that boulder!”
“You’d learn strategy! You’d have coaching!”
“But you’re already my coach.”
“You’d have real coaching, so you’d know what you’re doing.”
“I already know what I’m doing.” Sam frowns into the side mirror. Her eyes are annoyed, not pretty like her mom says, her forehead white under her short bangs.
Mitchell honks his horn, because a truck just cut them off. “Asshole!” He forgets to cover Sam’s ears. They are running late to Jen’s Halloween party and his phone is ringing. He flips it open and Sam hears her mom.
“Hello?”
“Good news!” says Mitchell. “They want Sam on a team!”
“Where are you?”
“They have scholarships. They meet on Saturdays.”
“You’re driving her to Newburyport every Saturday?”
“Sure!”
“Uh-huh. And what about when you’re not here?”
Before he can answer, Courtney’s words fill the car, because is he thinking she will do it? Did he forget she works on Saturdays? Jen cuts hair and Jen’s husband Steve is at the shop, and Courtney watches their baby, Madi.
Mitchell hands Sam the phone and her mom is still talking. “You’re an hour late.”
Mitchell says, “Tell her we’re on our way.”
“We’re on our way.”
Sam holds up the phone and her dad grins, because even now, Courtney is still talking. But then he stops himself and puts on his serious look while he is listening.
“Your mom is one hardworking lady,” he tells Sam after she hangs up. “I respect the heck out of her.”
“Heck?” Sam giggles, because what’s heck? She’s never heard her dad say heck before.
“Hey,” her dad warns, like don’t get smart, but she knows he doesn’t mean it. She can be as smart as she wants. The point is they have to work together.
Mitchell guns the engine and turns up the radio, while Sam reaches into the back seat for her black witch hat. She ties on a black salon kimono and pulls up her striped socks to look like witch’s stockings.
They are speeding down the highway, and Sam can feel the music in her elbows and knees and even underneath her feet. Her dad shouts, “Great costume, by the way.”
“I made it last night,” Sam shouts back.
“What?”
