Everything Is Fine. by Ann Dee Ellis Page B

he says, “I saw your dad.”
    “Yeah.”
    “He’s home?”
    “Yeah.”
    Colby flips a switch on the boat.
    “Are you glad?”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because.”
    Then I say, “Colby? Do you like these pads and jersey and stuff?”
    “No,” he says, and he is doing something under the steering wheel.
    “Oh,” I say. “But do you want them?”
    He looks at me. “What do you mean?”
    “I could give them to you. And the cleats and the jersey. My dad said I could do whatever I wanted with them.”
    “Why?”
    “Why did my dad say that or why would I give them to you?”
    “The give them to me part.”
    I take a deep breath. This has to sound good. “I’ll give them to you if you do something for me.”
    “What?”
    I look back at the house. No Dad. Norma is inside.
    Then I say very quietly, “Steal the Spyder.”
    “What?”
    “Steal the Spyder.”
    C OLBY AND M AZZY IN D EAN M ACHINE : crayon on paper

PLANS
    Oprah says: you gotta plan.
    And on
Survivor
you make plans.
    No one knew until I talked to Colby that I had a plan.
DINNER
    Dad takes me to dinner that night.
    Dad calls Bill to come over and watch Mom while we are gone.
    Mom is home alone all the time. He doesn’t need to call Bill.
    Brick oven pizza.
    He tries to talk to me. “So, what’s your summer been like? We never got to really talk on the phone.”
    I pull a pepperoni off and put it in my lemonade.
    “Nothing,” I say.
    “Nothing?”
    “Nope.”
    “Didn’t you go to the lake with the Deans a few times?”
    I look at him. How does he know that?
    “No.”
    “You didn’t?”
    “No.”
    “Mazzy, I know you did. I talked to Ellen.”
    Mrs. Dean.
    “She said she took you to yoga and shopping and you had a great time.”
    “We didn’t.”
    “You didn’t what?”
    “We didn’t have a great time. I hated it and Mom was mad that Mrs. Dean made me go.”
    Dad sighs. He sighs like he is some authority on my life or yoga and shopping with Mrs. Dean.
    I decide to give him one chance. One more chance.
    “Dad,” I say, “can’t you just let Mom stay home?”
    He picks up his Coke. “I can’t, Maz,” he says, and takes a long drink. “Your mother is sick.”
    “Well, can I at least come with you to Connecticut? I don’t want to go to Kansas. Please, Dad.”
    Another long drink, and then he shakes his head and says, “Not now. Soon. When I get settled.”
    “Fine,” I say, and I don’t say one more word the rest of the dinner.
    He asked for it.
WHEN WE GET HOME
    Dad goes into his office and I stand there.
    Finally I yell, “I’m sleeping in Mom’s room.”
    Dad says from his office, “Not a good idea, Mazzy. I’m staying with your mom.”
    I yell it again. “I’m sleeping in Mom’s room.”
    Dad comes out of his office and says, “Honey, I’m going to sit up with your mother. I haven’t seen her for weeks.”
    “That’s not my fault. I want to sleep in her room.”
    I walk out of the room, down the hall, and lock myself in her room.
    I put my face to the door for ten seconds.
    Nobody comes so I get started.
CLOTHES
    I pick out her painting jeans, a white button-down, and blue earrings. The ones she wore to my elementary school graduation.
    I find her old Tevas so she would be comfortable and I lay them all out on her bed.
    I don’t even try to talk to her.
    Then I pull out her suitcase and throw stuff in. Her umbrella, her windbreaker, her walking shoes, her maps, her wallet —
     especially her wallet with credit cards.
    After I have everything in and ready, I try to get her in the jeans.
    “Mom?”
    She doesn’t reply.
    I sit her up and try to pull her nightgown up. She turns away and lies back down.
    “Mom? I’m trying to help you.”
    She goes into a ball.
    “Mom. They are taking you away so we have to leave tonight. I know you can hear me. If you want to go, and I know you want
     to go, look at me.”
    She doesn’t.
    “Just look at me once and I’ll know you want to go.”
    She