Free Freaks and Revelations by Davida Wills Hurwin

me Happy Birthday. Everybody worried about Mom instead. I can’t remember what I thought, if I put it together about Elvis. We never talked about it.
    We never talked about Dad or the divorce, either. Or Paul. Or Grandma, for that matter—or even Uncle Bobby. This makes my stomach hurt. Which makes me take a deep breath. Which brings me to a brand-new thought.
    I know what’s wrong with our family.
    I sit straight up, blink my eyes.
    It’s so simple.
    It’s the secrets. They weigh us down. They keep us from knowing things clearly; they cover our lives like those shrouds on the mummies in the museum. We can’t hold them all, so we pretend they aren’t there. Except that makes everything worse, like when my finger got infected and the doctor had to lance it open, so the pus could all come out. It had nowhere else to go.
    Across the aisle, Davy nods his head and twitches his feet, lost in his music. What’s his secret? Is he sleeping with Isabelle? How about Marianne? She knows the most about our family. What does she not tell? What happened with Dad and Paul? I know Kaitlyn has secrets, she must, she never talks to anybody anymore. Sometimes I catch her standing in the living room, staring at the statue of Mother Mary.
    Secrets can make you crazy. Look at Grandma.
    I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.
    It will change everything. I don’t have to be the kid in the corner, the one who doesn’t fit in. I can be the one who makes everything better.
    “What’s wrong with you?” Davy asks, as the train pulls in and we stand and wait to file off.
    “Nothing.”
    “Then why are you smiling?”
    “You’ll find out,” I say.
    He shakes his head at me. “Weirdo.”
    {2}
    The family meeting’s called a week from Friday; I can think of nothing else. I know Mom won’t give me another chance. She surprised me by agreeing in the first place.
    “But why your father and Paul?” she said, when I asked her. We were in the living room, standing near Jesus.
    “Because I have something I need to tell everyone. It’s really, really important.”
    “All right then.” She gives me a look like she knows what I’m going to say, and I feel like smiling. “I’ll do what I can.”
    Still, I’m kinda scared. Each day, I consider the words. They’ve got to be perfect, exactly right, so we can be a family again. So the secrets will stop. I’m thinking on this so hard after school on Tuesday, I don’t see Hugo Leone and Fat Ralph Conifer until I practically bump into them. They stand there grinning like a couple of cartoon hyenas.
    “What?” I say with such force, it surprises me as much as it does them. For a second they don’t talk.
    “You know what,” says Fat Ralph.
    “Time to put the trash in the garbage can…” they sing-song together, with those stupid expressions.
    “Oh, fucking grow up, would you?”
    Ralph’s mouth drops open, which makes me laugh. They step away; I take this as a sign. The family meeting is right. Things do change, standing up for myself is necessary. This is the proof I need. I smile all the way home.
    Friday morning finally arrives. School goes on forever and dinner’s baked chicken, but I can’t make myself eat a thing. Mom says nothing. After, we pray as usual. Still, nothing. Did she forget? Change her mind?
    Then the doorbell rings and like magic, my father’s here. Nobody knows what to say. He comes in, nods at Mom, tries to smile. He checks out the shrine. I remember that he’s never been here before; I wonder if Jesus makes him uncomfortable too. I smile. He winks back. Then Paul knocks. He doesn’t smile. He sees Dad and starts to back out. Marianne goes to him and the two talk, quietly. More silence. Paul sees Jesus and rolls his eyes.
    “Shall we start?” Mom asks, and I nod.
    “Start what?” Davy asks. “What’s going on?”
    “Would you all please sit on the sofa?” I say.
    “What are they doing here?” Davy continues.
    “Be still and sit down,”