Free Love Rewards The Brave by Anya Monroe Page B

it’s
    something it’s not.
     
    “Lou-Lou,
    Remember when we were little and we’d lie in your bed together, looking at the night? You always said the sky made sense because it was all black sky and all white stars, nothing was confusing outside out window. Nothing was gray like inside our house.
    You taught me everything I know. You taught me to count and to tie my shoes. You made sure I had clothes to wear. You would put me on the kitchen counter and put Band-Aids on the places that were hurt and even though we both knew no Band-Aid was big enough for our kind of broken, but you still tried.
    I can’t try like that, like you. It’s too hard.
    I want things to be black like the sky and white like the stars and I know you, more then anyone on earth, can understand that.
    I love you, Lou-Lou, you and only you.
    Benji
     
    I fold it up.
    Smaller and smaller still
    until it is in the palm of my hand
    I can’t look up, don’t know if I ever will.
     
    “So what happens now? Is he going back to the group home?”
     
    My voice
    retreats again
    concedes again
    coming back in-
    side.
     
    “No, Louisa. He can’t go back there in the state of duress he’s under. He’s been transferred to a long-term Inpatient Program. His multiple diagnoses make him an ideal candidate for this kind of treatment.”
     
    “What do you mean? Multiple diagnoses?” 
     
    My voice is a whisper
    attempting to transfer
    my fear
    to Terry.
     
    “Benji has been seeing a lot of doctors this past year since entering the group home. It hasn’t been going well. You have seen glimpses of this on your visits with him. How he throws things, runs away, steals. Not to mention the anti-social behavior at school.”
     
    “So because he ran away once and got mad you’re sending him to a mental hospital?”
     
    It doesn’t add up.
    Why won’t she fess up and
    explain what
    is really going on.
     
    “Louisa, there are a lot of doctors still trying to help Benji. The pieces you see at visits are just a small snapshot of the big picture for Benji. He’s experiencing severe post-traumatic stress, just like you, but he expresses it in a much different way. He requires constant supervision, at least for now.”
     
    “So what does that mean for me? For my mom? I thought we were all going to be a family again.”
     
    I feel the chill
    of my will-
    power being stripped from me
    as I say those words out loud
    no longer bound
    inside.
     
    “You and your mom are still on the path of reunification, but Benji is not going to be a part of that plan.”
     

96.
     
    Her words echo deep down.
    I’ve been walking around
    the last few days knowing that
    possibility
    the gravity
    of the situation.
    But wanting to believe best case
    scenario.
    For Benji. For me.
    For our fucked up semblance of a family.
    But Terry’s told me straight up
    that ain’t gonna happen.
    Like, ever.
    Like, never.
    Life with my mom will be
    better than nothing,
    but it’s just not what I planned.
    Planned for the past two years
    since I was
    put in a system
    I didn’t understand.
     
    And Benji?
    What about that little boy in all of this?
    Doesn’t anyone think that him
    being with me
    the one who loves
    him would do anything for him
    has got to be better somehow
    than a hospital bed and gown?
    That I can provide the things that he needs
    hope and love and a reminder to brush his teeth?
    It’s what I always did
    and I still want to do it
    and taking that from me
    hurts the most
    and taking that from him
    hurts the most
    of
    all.
     
    And it just feels like the people
    in charge are not thinking
    of the
    two kids
    in the middle of a mess
    a man created
    a long, long time ago
    before we ever could know
    what was really happening
    and now that we do
    our choices are few.
    Benji: Committed
    Louisa: Admitted-
    ly
    lost and confused.
     
     

97.
     
    Toby gives me a stack of paper towels
    Windex and a kiss on the cheek.
    Fingerprints streak the window
    and the scene outside is just