She shook her head. “No.”
“Well?”
“Ox. It’s….” She picked up her pen and started to sign her name. She stopped before she finished the first letter. Put the pen back down. She looked up at me. “I’ll do right by you.”
“I know.” Because I did.
She picked up the pen and signed her name. And then again. And again. And again.
She initialed a few times too.
When she was done, she said, “And that’s that.” She laughed and stood and took my hand and we danced in the kitchen to a song neither of us could hear. She left after a little while.
It was dark by the time I looked down at the papers on the table.
They were for a divorce.
SHE WENT back to her maiden name. Callaway.
She asked if I wanted to change mine too.
I told her no. I would make Matheson a good name.
She didn’t think I saw her tears when I said that. But I did.
I SAT in the cafeteria. It was loud. I couldn’t concentrate. My head hurt.
A guy named Clint walked by my table with his friends.
I was by myself.
He said, “Fucking retard.”
His friends laughed.
I got up and saw the look of fear in his eyes. I was bigger than him.
I turned and left, because my mom said I couldn’t get in fights anymore.
Clint said something behind me and his friends laughed again.
I told myself that when I got friends, we wouldn’t be mean like they were.
No one bothered me when I sat outside. It was almost nice. My sandwich was good.
SOMETIMES I walked in the woods. Things were clearer there.
The trees swayed in the breeze. Birds told me stories.
They didn’t judge me.
One day, I picked up a stick and pretended it was a sword.
I hopped over a creek, but it was too wide and my feet got wet.
I lay on my back and looked at the sky through the trees while waiting for my socks to dry.
I dug my toes into the dirt.