Mockingbird

by Kathryn Erskine

Can’t you still feel Devon? Mrs. Brook asks again. Maybe. I’m not sure it’s really him though. It could be anyone. What would he feel like? I mean the things he did for you. The things you did together. You’ll miss him but he’ll always be with you. Just in a different way.

Sometimes I read the same books over and over and over. What’s great about books is that the stuff inside doesn’t change. People say you can’t judge a book by its cover but that’s not true because it says right on the cover what’s inside.

And no matter how many times you read that book the words and pictures don’t change. You can open and close books a million times and they stay the same. They look the same. They say the same words. The charts and pictures are the same colors. Books are not like people. Books are safe.

also learn that you should exercise right like Devon who plays soccer and baseball and runs almost every day.

What I can’t find is how long you can make a Heart work once it is shot and can other body organs take over for it and can a hospital keep you alive without it and are you the same person without it and are you a person at all?

A gunshot wound to the Heart is almost always fatal.

After we came home from the hospital that night—with no Devon—Dad was yelling and kicking the furniture and the walls and he started pounding the chest with his fists and shouting, Why? Why? WHY? and he threw the woodworking books and Scout manual into Devon’s room and slammed the door and said, No no no no no, until I screamed at him to STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT! Then he put the sheet over the chest and now he never even looks in that corner.

I try not to I remember being at the hospital and how there were sharp lights and siren noises and loudspeaker noises and beeping noises and medicine smells and finally people dressed in green pajamas and paper slippers said to Dad, We tried but we couldn’t close your son’s chest. His Heart—there was nothing left—there was nothing we could do. Nothing we could do.

How do I get to the state of experiencing an emotional conclusion to a difficult life event? She stands up from the round table. What do you mean? Closure, I say. I’m talking about Closure. How do I find it?

There is the beanbag chair where Devon always sits. And the books on the floor that Dad threw there. And the bed which is never made because Devon hates making his bed. And the shelf with his trophies. Baseball. Basketball. Boy Scouts.

It’s wrong to shoot someone who is innocent and was never going to hurt you in the first place. I still didn’t Get It and said, But you told me the dog was sick and he WAS going to hurt them. And Devon said, It’s not about the dog! It’s about people! You shouldn’t hurt innocent people Scout. That’s what it means. I guess the evil school shooters didn’t listen in English class because they did not Get the meaning of that book at all.

But if you put yourself in their shoes you can feel what they’re feeling. I look at their shoes. It’s an expression, she says. What we’re working on Caitlin is empathy. Is that like emotion? Sort of. No thank you. I’m not good with emotion. All you need to do is imagine how other people are feeling. Why?

Then you know how to communicate with them. What if I don’t want to? Or can’t.

Listen Caitlin. This is important. If they’re happy you can be happy with them. If someone is very sad you should be quiet with them and maybe try to cheer them up a little bit but not start out all loud and happy because that doesn’t match their emotion. You’re not matching my emotion right...

After a while I decide to get my Dictionary even though I’ve looked up Closure thirty-seven times and it still doesn’t help.

want Devon to take me shopping like he did last year. Dad puts his head down so his chin touches his chest. He says nothing for a while. Then he looks up. He can’t. But it’s MY birthday and that’s what I want. He sighs

Brianna shakes her head. You traced that. No I didn’t. No one can draw like that. I can. I told you. I’m probably the best artist in the state. Yeah right. I’ve seen what Caitlin can draw, Emma says. It’s awesome.

You’re still my friend, he says softly. I am? Why? You’re nice to me and you don’t have to be ’cause you’re a fifth grader and you can do stuff like Closure and I’m only a first grader so I can only do stuff like be a pear. A pair of what? No. A pear. Like an apple. Oh. Can I see you be a pear? He Looks At The Person. You really want to see me be a pear?

Michael gives me a high five and he’s smiling so much that I feel like a good friend again. I’m happy because of Michael. He’s the only friend I have and maybe the only friend I’ll ever have.