like that forever on me.
But last night should have been even better.
Last night she actually kissed me.
It really did happen.
I open my eyes.
I can still feel her with me.
And I want to keep feeling her with me.
I want that more than anything.
Maybe someday, after I find Teddy and heâs safely home, then I can start worrying about girls and all that normal high school stuff.
For now, I have to put that aside.
I look down at the bottles lined up there on the tiled counter.
Just the thought of those pills sticking in my throat, the taste of them going down, slowly dissolving in my mouth as I try to gulp the water downâitâs enough to make me want to throw up right now.
I pour the four capsules of the powdered lithium out into my hand. They are an off-colored, sickly pink, glossy, with tiny numbers printed along the center seam.
I put the pills in my mouth and start to swallow, but they seem caught somehow, and I cough and gag as they stick there.
I try again to swallow, but I canât. I canât do it.
I choke and spit the pills out into the sink.
âGoddamnit,â I say, gasping, fighting for air.
I grab the already dissolving pills out of the sink and drop them into the trash. Then I open each of the individual pill bottles and empty their entire contents into the toilet. I flushâtwice, actually, because they donât all go down the first time.
I splash some water on my face and then turn off the spigot.
âI canât,â I tell my reflection, shaking my head. âI canât do it anymore.â
I dry my face and hands on a ratty towel hung over the shower.
I switch the light off and close the door.
The medication is gone.
And now I am ready to make things right hereâat homeâwith my family.
Tomorrow I will go to the police station.
Iâll talk to Detective Marshall.
And it will be all right.
20.
THE CENTRAL BRANCH OF the San Francisco Police Department is located right on the border between North Beach and Chinatown, in an unassuming two-story building behind a nameless liquor store and directly across from two different strip clubs, Big Alâs and the Garden of Eden.
North Beach is maybe my favorite part of the city. Itâs a little touristy, I guess, but thatâs just because itâs so beautiful. Iâve never been to Europe, but from the movies Iâve seen, I think it must look something like the streets here in North Beach. The roads are very narrow, built on the steep, complicated, crisscrossing hills leading up to Coit Tower. The Victorian-style buildings, cafés, and trattorias pressed right up against one another.
There are a few grand old churches, built out of white marble and surrounded by stone courtyards. Before Jane and Teddy were born, my mom and dad lived with me not too far from here. My dad used to take me on walks down around Washington Square Park, and then heâd write at Caffe Trieste while I drew in a notebook and drank hot chocolate and ate these raspberry ring pastry things.
Actually, now that I think about it, once I was older, my dad used to take me and Eliza to that same Caffe Trieste every Sunday to listen to opera music while he worked on his stories for the paper. Walking through North Beach after schoolâwhere I basically spent the whole day hidingâcanât help but think back on those times with Eliza.
Itâs only a little after three, but already the sun is low on the horizon, setting behind the high-rise buildings along the Marina to the west. Everything is gray with shadow, and the wind tunnels down the alleyways, blowing the streets clean, as pigeons scurry like rats across the sidewalk.
I light a cigarette, but then throw it away immediately once I see all the cops hanging out around the front of the stationâsince Iâm still under eighteen and could probably get a ticket or something. The cops outside are talking to one another in loud voices, drinking
But last night should have been even better.
Last night she actually kissed me.
It really did happen.
I open my eyes.
I can still feel her with me.
And I want to keep feeling her with me.
I want that more than anything.
Maybe someday, after I find Teddy and heâs safely home, then I can start worrying about girls and all that normal high school stuff.
For now, I have to put that aside.
I look down at the bottles lined up there on the tiled counter.
Just the thought of those pills sticking in my throat, the taste of them going down, slowly dissolving in my mouth as I try to gulp the water downâitâs enough to make me want to throw up right now.
I pour the four capsules of the powdered lithium out into my hand. They are an off-colored, sickly pink, glossy, with tiny numbers printed along the center seam.
I put the pills in my mouth and start to swallow, but they seem caught somehow, and I cough and gag as they stick there.
I try again to swallow, but I canât. I canât do it.
I choke and spit the pills out into the sink.
âGoddamnit,â I say, gasping, fighting for air.
I grab the already dissolving pills out of the sink and drop them into the trash. Then I open each of the individual pill bottles and empty their entire contents into the toilet. I flushâtwice, actually, because they donât all go down the first time.
I splash some water on my face and then turn off the spigot.
âI canât,â I tell my reflection, shaking my head. âI canât do it anymore.â
I dry my face and hands on a ratty towel hung over the shower.
I switch the light off and close the door.
The medication is gone.
And now I am ready to make things right hereâat homeâwith my family.
Tomorrow I will go to the police station.
Iâll talk to Detective Marshall.
And it will be all right.
20.
THE CENTRAL BRANCH OF the San Francisco Police Department is located right on the border between North Beach and Chinatown, in an unassuming two-story building behind a nameless liquor store and directly across from two different strip clubs, Big Alâs and the Garden of Eden.
North Beach is maybe my favorite part of the city. Itâs a little touristy, I guess, but thatâs just because itâs so beautiful. Iâve never been to Europe, but from the movies Iâve seen, I think it must look something like the streets here in North Beach. The roads are very narrow, built on the steep, complicated, crisscrossing hills leading up to Coit Tower. The Victorian-style buildings, cafés, and trattorias pressed right up against one another.
There are a few grand old churches, built out of white marble and surrounded by stone courtyards. Before Jane and Teddy were born, my mom and dad lived with me not too far from here. My dad used to take me on walks down around Washington Square Park, and then heâd write at Caffe Trieste while I drew in a notebook and drank hot chocolate and ate these raspberry ring pastry things.
Actually, now that I think about it, once I was older, my dad used to take me and Eliza to that same Caffe Trieste every Sunday to listen to opera music while he worked on his stories for the paper. Walking through North Beach after schoolâwhere I basically spent the whole day hidingâcanât help but think back on those times with Eliza.
Itâs only a little after three, but already the sun is low on the horizon, setting behind the high-rise buildings along the Marina to the west. Everything is gray with shadow, and the wind tunnels down the alleyways, blowing the streets clean, as pigeons scurry like rats across the sidewalk.
I light a cigarette, but then throw it away immediately once I see all the cops hanging out around the front of the stationâsince Iâm still under eighteen and could probably get a ticket or something. The cops outside are talking to one another in loud voices, drinking
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