Heaven

Just seeing you, though, I feel, I dunno, happamine.”

Why people don’t print money when they’re broke.

“Nobody does. They either look at me like I’m a freak or turn away. I’m used to that. And you guys can think whatever you want, but I just wish you would leave me alone . . . it’s not like I chose to be born this way. You didn’t choose to be born with normal eyes, either. In that way, we’re the same, you and me. I can’t help it that you think I’m disgusting. And that’s fine. Still, that doesn’t mean you have a right to hurt me, or anybody else.”

“Like when you make me do things, and kick me or punch me. You hurt me because of my eye.”

“And you want it to stop? That’s what you’re telling me?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Momose laughed. “What the hell is maybe?”

“Why . . .” I said, but I couldn’t say the rest. As I sat there, silent, Momose sighed at me and asked me what was up, losing his patience.

“Why do you do it? No one has the right to hurt anybody else. No one.” I measured the shape and heft of each word. “I didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

Momose folded his hands and gazed at my knees.

“I don’t care if you think I look weird. This is how I am. I’m not asking you to think I’m normal.”

“Hey, everybody. Know the things you always make fun of Kojima for? Guess what? They all serve a purpose. They’re her way of remembering the time she spent living with her dad. All of you have things you value more than anything, right? Photos, or maybe letters. In reality, it’s all just paper, but we project our memories and emotions onto them, giving them meaning, and that’s what makes them more than paper. And out of all those pictures and letters, I bet one or two stand out from the rest, special in a way that no one else would ever understand. That’s what it feels like for Kojima to look the way she does. I know it might seem weird, but if photos and letters can mean that much, if you can admit how much they mean to you, is it really so strange that being dirty could do the same thing for someone else? We all see the world in our own way.”

“The other kids, the rest of our class, they don’t understand anything. They have no idea what anything means. They don’t know how they make other people feel, and they’ve never stopped to think about other people’s pain. They’re just following along, doing what everyone else is doing. At first, I was so angry. Really. I was only making myself dirty as a way of staying close to my dad, so I wouldn’t forget him. It was my own sign, a sign that I had been with him. Something that no one else can understand. A sign that my dad was out there somewhere, wearing the same old shoes, and that I was with him. Being dirty can mean something, too. But the other kids, they’ll never understand that. Know what I mean?”

It’s a painful thing, I know, but it’s also made you who you are. That’s for sure. And because I won’t give up my signs, I’ve gone through a lot, too. If we didn’t have them, everything would be different. That’s why I knew that I would understand you, better than anyone else, and why you would understand the way I feel better than anyone else. I knew it. And I wasn’t wrong. When I sent you the letter, you came. You think about how other people feel. You’re so kind. It makes sense. Because we’re always in pain, we know exactly what it means to hurt somebody else. Maybe it’s not as bad for me as it is for you, but I think I know how you feel, probably more than anybody.”

in her own world. I kept calling her, like Mom, Mom, Mom. Nothing, though. I yanked her arm, but she barely moved. I started to panic, thinking I’d better go get my dad, but decided against it. I slapped her knee as hard as I could, crying like crazy. Going Mom, Mom. But that didn’t do anything, either. It was like she couldn’t even hear me. I was so scared, thinking what I’d do if she lost her mind and never said anything ever again. That was about the time that everyone in class was doing sun dares. Did you do those? Know how if you stare at the sun, you go blind? Someone decided that if you stare straight at the sun for thirty seconds without blinking, you get to make a wish. So I did it right there, sitting next to my mom, crying. Give me my mom back. I was looking straight up, right at the sun, my eyes all the way open. It was a really sunny day, too. Not a single cloud up there. The sun was really bright, white hot, like today. I still remember how painful it was to keep looking. But I kept telling myself, I can lose my sight, but I can’t lose my mom. I had no idea how long thirty seconds was, but I held it. I could feel my eyelids shaking, and tears were pouring out of my eyes. I fought with everything I had to keep them open. I had been at it for a really long time when I heard my mom say, ‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this.’ Actually, I didn’t really hear her words, but I was so relieved to hear her speak. Then she said it again, ‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this.’ I didn’t know what to say back, so I just kept quiet. She was like, ‘We have nothing . . . nothing.’ But she wasn’t talking to me. It was like the words were just coming up, from some place deep inside her, on their own.”

“My dad just stood there, no reaction. He wouldn’t say anything. My mom was crying, totally exhausted. Then she just walked out. As soon as she was gone, I had this horrible feeling, so I told my dad to stay put and ran after her. She was wearing her red apron, totally out of it, and sitting on those blocks. You know those concrete things they have in parking lots? I ran over to her and sat down right next to her, but she wa

“Yeah,” she said. “My mom doesn’t work either, not anymore. Back then, though, she was so fed up with how things were, she started getting into arguments with my dad. Except he wasn’t much of a talker. He would kind of close up when things got heated. It wasn’t really arguing. More like yelling. My mom was always calling my dad names, but he never said anything back, or maybe he couldn’t. But my mom didn’t like that either. Well, I don’t know. It’s just, it kind of makes arguing hard when the other person doesn’t say anything back. So she would lose it, and start crying and screaming, all the time. Eventually she started throwing things, whatever was around, saying everything was his fault, punching him and kicking him. It was crazy to watch. She went at him with everything she had. The way she cried was crazy, too. I remember feeling like it was all because we had no money. But I know it wasn’t just that. Not like I get it. That’s just how things were. My mom even stopped going to her job. We were all out of money and our family was falling apart. Like, we had no idea what we were gonna do next.