Chapter Eleven

 At the end of September I got the call from Henry. “It’s tomorrow at seven,” was the first thing he told me after we got past “hello’s.” I almost squealed, but Henry would have appreciated to keep the use of his ears, so I didn’t. But it would have been fun.

        “Now, I’m not going to pressure you to tell anybody, but wouldn’t your friends like to hear your work played?” he asked.

        “I’m going to tell Mrs. Sylvia, Kayla, Brad, their parents, my mom,” I listed laughing.

        He chuckled. “Here’s an idea. Bring in a radio and listen with your mom. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

        The idea hadn’t even occurred to me. “Yeah, I’ll do that. I’m not sure when visitor hours end, though. I always only stay until four or four-thirty so I can make dinner and start on my homework.”

        “Well, it’s only forty-five minutes long, so you can tell them that they’ll have to be patient.” I could almost hear him nodding while he said that.

        “Okay. Well, I got to go. I couldn’t afford all that many minutes this month and I don’t want to go over.”

        “Okay. Good-bye, Kathryn.”

        “Bye, Henry.”

        From the next room, Dad called, “Who’s this Henry?”

        “Just a friend, Dad!”

        He snorted. “Well, you be careful, y’hear?”

        “Yes, Dad.” It would have been funny if I didn’t know he was serious.

        The next day I went to the library instead of to the hospital right after school, so I could do my homework early. Despite all the time I spent working on it, Geometry was just past me. I didn’t understand a word of it. Well, I did, but I just couldn’t apply the formulas to the problems that we were assigned.

        Getting home and explaining where I had been to Dad was a challenge. He had already spent the last two months or so wasting my salary on alcohol instead of finding a job, but he still managed to criticize me when I was late or did things other than what he wanted me to do.

        “Now where have you been? Are you knocked up or something?”

        “No, Dad. I was at the library, doing homework,” I replied, setting my book bag down.

        He scoffed. “You don’t need to do homework. Whatever you finish in school is just fine.”

        “Okay, Dad. What do you want for dinner?”

        “Pot roast, and this time, not so salty. It almost washed out the flavor of the beer.”

        I nodded and waited until he returned to his football before walking over to the freezer and taking out the TV dinner I had bought. The cheap one, with the vegetables that tasted like puke. Dad would get suspicious if he had to eat those, so I always did. They weren’t so bad once you got used to them.

        An hour later the oven dinged and Dad came into the kitchen, more wobbly than when he had left. I quickly put the meat on a plate and set it in front of him before scooping my own meal into a bowl.

        “Good meat. Nice and salty,” he grunted, taking a bite the size of a baseball. I always worried one day if he would choke. Then again, my life may be a little bit easier if he did. He would get caught and sent away then, right?

        “I’m going to go visit Mom at seven,” I told him when he was fully submerged in the juiciness of the roast.

        He grunted again. “Lousy woman. Doesn’t do a lick of work around here anymore. I don’t even know where she is.”

        “She’s in the hospital, Dad, remember?”

        “No, I don’t remember, because you don’t tell me nothing.” He slammed his fist on the table. “And you’re going to start telling me things, starting now!”

        I sighed. “My grades are good. Mr. Franklin is really nice this year, and there’s a new sub that everyone talks about but doesn’t seem to know the name of.”

        “Is that right? I feel bad for the substitute teacher. Unappreciated. Unloved. Just like me.”

        I smiled weakly. “That’s not true, Dad. I love you.”

        “You have to. You’re my daughter. But as soon as you graduate, you’re going to be out of here. Just like your brother.” I couldn’t contradict him. It was true.

        After that rare chat that we had, I stuck the dishes in the sink to do later. I was running late, and it would take me longer than usual to get to the hospital because I would be carrying a radio with me.

        When I got there, Mom was waiting for me. “Hello, dear. You’re late today. What kept you?”

        “I wanted you to hear something, Mom. It’s on the radio. You remember me telling you about Henry and what we were working on? We sent it into the radio, and they’re playing it in a few minutes. Do you think the nurses would mind if we listened to it?”

        “I don’t know. Let’s ask them.” She pressed the little call button, and in a few moments a nurse was at the door. “Would it be okay if we listened to the radio?”

        “What station?” the nurse asked, a fake smile planted on her face.

        “KAXE,” I replied. “I helped with a documentary on global warming, and I wanted my mom to listen to it with me.”

        “Very well. Just as long as it doesn’t have anything bad in it.”

        “It doesn’t,” I reassured her, plugging the radio in and tuning it to the channel that I wanted. We came in just in time.

        “- And now for a special documentary that a good old friend of ours did. Dr. Henry Nelson just sent us a piece on global warming, and boy is it riveting. Background music is by high school student Kathryn Hyland. -”

        “That’s you, dear!” Mom said, holding my hand. With her meds, Mom seemed normal. I liked it.

        “Yes, Mom. I worked hard on this, so let’s listen, okay?”

        She nodded and stayed silent, leaning back against her pillow and closing her eyes, still holding on to my hand as I sat on the edge of the bed.

        The recording was wonderful. It sounded almost professional, at least to me. That might have been the hours spent on it talking, though.

We listened for the entire thing in silence, Mom not making one comment on it, me listening for any mistakes that we might have unknowingly made. I couldn’t find any.

        When it was over, Mom smiled at opened her eyes. “That was lovely, Kathryn. I loved the part where the man, Henry, talked about dangers to humans. I didn’t know that malaria and other tropical diseases could spread to larger areas because of this.”

        “It’s true, Mom. The part that I liked the best was the one where he talked about global climate change could bring more droughts and increase malnutrition,” I told her.

        We talked for a bit more about the documentary, but after a while I had to leave. Either way, I had noticed an improvement in my mother’s health. Hopefully, soon, it would be enough.

Author's Note

If you loved or hated it, tell me why so I know what to do and what not to do. Thank you!