Hear Me

         “So Soft Spoken, Adam-go-round. Why be shy?”

         “He's probably scared 'cause you're so bouncy.”

         “Am not!”

         “She's right, Brandy. You talk enough for all of us!”

         “Will everyone quiet down in there? I'm on the phone!”

         “Can I have-”

         “Shut up, Suzy Doozy! Mom is on the phone!”

         Susan had been listening in on the conversation all the way from the bathroom, yet she hadn't been able to stop her question fast enough. Then again, she had expected to be snapped at anyway. “I just need-” she started again.

         “Did you NOT hear me the first time? SHUT! UP!”

Susan looked around. Progressively younger versions of their mom, Brittney was staring down her intense younger sister with an o-so-immature expression, while Brandy stood between her and Alyssa with arms folded across a flat chest, and little Alyssa just stood looking startled back at her. All that could be seen of Adam was his butt sticking out from under the couch pillow.

         “-Excuse me a moment - Girls! Did you not hear me? Now go to your room!” Mom came around the corner with that crease in her forehead, sporting her brown hair in a messy ponytail and her phone on one ear.

         “But Mom -”

         “But nothing! Get going!”

         Grumbling, the four walked down the hall into their bedroom. Brandy threw herself on Brittney's bottom bunk, letting Brittney close the door silently, turning the knob so that the latch wouldn't click before leaning against it. Alyssa scrambled up to her top bunk, while Susan sat on her bottom one. Unspoken blame of whose fault it was hung in the air like fog. It was Brittney who finally spoke out.

         “Know why they stopped with 'Br' names after Brian?”

         “The only name left was Brat?”

         “Brooke. Or Brendan, for a boy. That was what mom and dad were going to name the next baby.”

         “The next baby? But I was next.” Susan stated.

         “No,” Brittney sighed. “Mom had a miscarriage. Between you and Brian. They never found out the gender. You know, whether it was going to be a boy or girl.”

         The contemplative moment was broken almost instantly. “So it was Susan's fault she died! Suze wouldn't even have been born!” Brandy yelled. Susan felt a huge wash of guilt.

         “No, it was yours. Remember, she hadn't even come into existence yet.” Brittney corrected. Susan felt a lot better. “You were a toddler and Brian was a baby. And Brad was a preschooler. I was in Kindergarten, so I couldn't help. You ran Mom half to death! After the miscarriage, Mom and Dad put you in daycare. Just so she could rest with Sue's pregnancy.” Everyone else looked at Brandy, whose face had turned pale, then red, then pale again. They knew Dad couldn't afford an extra bill like that. “You don't ever acknowledge how your actions affect others.”

         “I needed a band aid. I was gonna ask Alyssa if I could use her Disney one.” Susan looked down at her tissue wrapped finger. Right then it didn't seem important anymore.

         “You got us in trouble over a band aid?” Brandy screeched. Brittney cleared her throat meaningfully. Brandy shot her a sour look and apologized. “Look, I'm sorry about your finger. But Mom had just told us to be quiet and you walked in talking.” Brittney cleared her throat again. “OK, I'm sorry for yelling back at you. But it wasn't like getting us in trouble was my fault. OK, so it was. But it wasn't all my fault.” She looked guiltily around at her sisters. “No, really, she kept talking. She needs to shut up when told. Hey, I react!” she glared. “I can't believe I'm stuck with these twerps.” She threw herself back onto Brittney's bed.

         Through the walls the sound of the front door cracked open with the blur of male voices of various ages creeping through. On the other end of the house, the baby started to fuss.

         “Dad alarm went off.” Sure enough, Brittney barely had time to get out of the way before the door swung open and Mom, still holding the phone in one hand, stepped in to pull her out.

         “The rest of you can come out to do your chores. And I don't want to hear a word out of any of you.”

         The girls looked at Brandy. “She said we can come out to do our chores. She didn't say we had to.” Susan hopped off her bed and strolled out the door. Even scrubbing a toilet without a band aid was better than staying in the room with Brandy.


         At the dinner table, Dad refused to serve until everyone, even Brandy, had quieted for the blessing. Mom was served first, as she was at the other end. The plate had to be passed down on the girls side of the table, because Adam couldn't reach past Zachery, who would have loved nothing better than to grab off the plate as it passed. Seated between Brandy and Alyssa, Susan tried to ignore the elbow in the face and the now swollen ring finger. Since Zach got his portion from Mom's plate, Alyssa was next. “How much can you eat?”

         “Just a little bit,” she replied, holding her forefinger and thumb about two inches apart.

         “You need more than a little bit,” he replied, piling a huge scoop of casserole onto her plate.

         “Honey, that's more than you gave me!”

         “OK, OK,” he grumbled, scooping about half onto the next plate. Adam's.

         “I don't want any.”

         “Son, you need to eat more than you do. You're as skinny as a rail.”

         “But I don't want any!” he wailed, watching it pass down from brother to brother.

         “But Adam-go-round, it's so yummy! I bet I can eat more than you!”

         Adam scrunched his face into the most stubborn contortion he could. Dad wasn't even paying attention to how much he was putting onto the next plate – her own. “You will not leave this table until you eat everything on your plate!” He passed it to Brittney, who passed it on down. It looked like half the casserole was on there. “Brian, how much do you think you can eat?”

         Brad nodded over to Susan's portion. “Just make sure you leave something that size for me.”


         That evening, she decided to visit her dad. He had a special place on the armchair in the living room, which was his whenever he was home and the baby wasn't sleeping on it. She tried climbing onto his lap but he winced and said, “Don't you think you're getting a little big for that, sweetie?”

         Blushing, she climbed back down and decided to start with a question. “How was your day?”

         “Long. Busy. Before Brian's basketball game we visited a friend of your Grampa's that's not doing too well.....” By the time he'd finished she'd long gotten bored and tuned him out. “Thanks for asking!” he pinched her cheek and picked up his paper; she next found herself staring at an ad for medicine. Why couldn't they buy a T.V. that would break down?

         She wandered back into the kitchen where her mom was combing Adam's freshly washed hair while, yes, talking on the phone.

         “Want to play cars with me?” he asked.

         “Excuse me – he can't right now, he has to go to bed. Go take your shower and get your jammies on. Where were we?” Susan jumped away and wandered back to the bathroom. Occupied. She continued on to her room, where her drawers were under the bed. Alyssa had the bottom two drawers of the dresser between the two bunks, and Brandy had the top two. Which she was digging into, so no one else could get to their drawers.

         “Hey Brandy,” she interrupted.

         “Hey Suzy-Doozy. Have you seen my socks?” For whatever reason, Brandy had to wear socks when she slept.

         “No. Did you check the laundry?”

         “They're not in the laundry.”

         “OK”. She decided it was better not to talk to her sister. Well, there was no one else to talk to. “Want to know how I cut my finger?”

         “No.”

         “Brad left a razor in the trash-”

         “I said, NO! MOM! I can't find my socks!” She slammed the drawer back closed and stormed out of the room. Susan lay back on her bed and listened to whoever was taking forever in the shower. It was going to be cold by the time she got her turn.

         Alyssa rushed in, and opened her bottom drawer. “Hide these!”

         Susan looked down. Four or five pairs of white socks were right on top. “Are you nuts? She's gonna kill us!” She whispered.

         “I know.” Alyssa looked scared, but shoved the small pile of socks onto Susan's bed.

         “Where do you think these are gonna be hidden? She's already looked everywhere!”

         “Under the bed?”

         “That's so stupid! If they're found, we'll be in trouble with mom! Here, put these three,” she shoved them back into Alyssa's drawer, “back here, and these two,” she opened Brandy's messy top drawer, “back where she missed them.” Stomping approached the door and both girls jumped into bed.

         “They aren't there!” Brandy fumed behind their mother.

         “Now look,” she soothed, opening the drawer, “just calm down and look. See? You have two pairs. Now, no more fussing. The rest will turn up.” She turned to the other two. “Showers, girls?”

         “Someone's using it.”

         She made a look at her cell phone. “Well, you're running out of time. You two take your shower together.” She left the door open on her way out. In the hallway, they could hear her banging on the bathroom door. “Hurry up in there! Your sisters need their turn.”

         The sound of the shower stopped. Brandy turned her attention to her sisters. “Which of you had something to do with this?”

         Susan put on her best surprised face and shook her head. Brandy looked from top to bottom and back again. Before she said anything though, Brittney walked in with her hair in a towel. The younger girls leaped up and scurried for the bathroom.

         Taking a shower with a younger sister was embarrassing enough, but at least it wasn't like when they were having to change together at the beach. Back then, it was discovered that Brittney not only was wearing a bra, but also had hair growing in weird places. Even Brandy's nipples were pointy. It was hard not to stare.

         The girls dropped the bar of soap between the two of them, bumped heads picking it back up, and dropped it again. Susan's finger was becoming painfully stiff, and seared at the red cut. She decided to keep it away from the soap.

         “Do you think she knows?”

         “Yes. Shh, she can hear you.”

         “I hate her. She's so mean all the time!”

         “I know.” Actually, Susan could remember Brandy trying to be nice, but always messing it up with an eruption.

         “I wish we could tell Mom.”

         “Me too.”

         Since the shower wasn't getting any warmer, they turned it off and stepped out. Outside in the hall, the bigger brothers were obviously wrestling. The girls wrapped themselves in towels and tiptoed around them back into their room. Susan was just thinking that she should again try to tell her mom about the finger when they froze. All of their drawers had been taken out and turned upside down, and Brandy was smirking over three pairs of white socks. “You guys lied! Mom!”

         In a reactive moment, Susan joined in. “MOM! MOM!”

         “-let me call you back. What!” She stopped short at the doorway. Brad and Brian peered over her shoulders. “Who did this?”

         “Alyssa had these in her drawer! She lied,-”
         “I don't care who lied-”
         “-She, both of them-”
         “-I did not!”
         “-I care about who-”
         “-lied!”
         “-made this mess!”

         In the silence that followed, they could hear the baby from the other end of the house and heavy footsteps down the hall. Brandy looked down. Susan looked behind her mother, the boys had vanished and Dad had taken their place. “You need to clean this up. Put everything back where it belongs.”

         “But Dad, they stole my socks!” she sobbed.

         “No butts. Clean it up. Girls? Get dressed and meet me out in the living room in two minutes.”

         Alyssa and Susan looked at each other, then found their various pajama pieces on the floor.


         Later, Susan nursed her finger in the dark by sucking on it. It tasted sweetish and metallic. So far, Mom was too busy listening to the phone, Dad was too busy being in charge, Brandy was, well, Brandy, and Brittney was too busy being Mom. Alyssa didn't notice and wouldn't know what to do. She decided to talk to Brad in the morning.

         In her sleep, she was yelling at the windows, and no one heard her; she couldn't hear herself even. She kept going to each of her family members trying to tell them something important, but couldn't get the words out of her mouth. They were all too busy talking. Mom disappeared and everyone started looking for her phone. Brian hit her with a basketball and made her dribble, which made her whole hand hurt. Brandy made her hold her hand out still so she could smash it with a hammer.

         “Shut Up! I'm trying to sleep!”

         Shivering and crying, she looked over. Brittney was contently curled up in her own bed, Brandy was on the verge of throwing a pillow from the top bunk. Actually, her whole hand did hurt a lot, not just her finger. But if she said anything, Brandy would throw her pillow and have to retrieve it. Instead, both of them rolled over.


         The next morning was Sunday. Dad pounded on the door for everyone to get up. She tried to sit up but fell back down, her head spinning and heart racing. From across the house she could hear the baby crying. “Brittany can you take care of the baby?”

         “You're gonna be in trouble if you don't get up soon,” Brandy commented on her way out the door. Susan tried sitting up again, more slowly. She was soaked with sweat and couldn't even move her hand. It was covered in red and black streaks that traveled up to her elbow. Dizzy and breathless, she lay back down again.

         “Susan, get to the table now if you want to have breakfast!” It was sort of ringing in the background with all the clinking.

         After what seemed like a few minutes, but had to be much more, someone burst into the room with, “That's my dress and you are not going to wear it!” Susan peeked her eyes open. Brandy and Brittney were fighting over the pink dress in the closet. Brittney spun around and finally noticed Susan's discolored hand. “Uh, MOM!”

         “What!” she yelled from the other end of the house.

         “You need to come look at Susan!”

         “Not now! I'm trying to get your brothers dressed!”

         “I think she's dead! OHMYGOD SHE'S DEAD!” Brandy screamed. Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall as Susan closed her eyes again. She felt her father's hand against her forehead. Brandy was still sobbing loudly in the background.

         “Honey, call an ambulance. We're not going to church.”

         “Why, what's going on?”

         "Is she dead?" came Brad's voice. Her other siblings murmured to each other in the background.

         “No. Sepsis. Bacteria infection from a cut. Should have been treated with ointment and a band aid. Honey did you call yet?”

         “Oh no! I forgot to charge my phone!”

         For the first time ever, she heard her father cuss. “Brittney, you're in charge. Honey, grab the insurance card. Does anyone know when or how this happened?”

         After a moment of silence and sniffles, Brandy spoke up. “Yesterday afternoon. She reached into the trash and cut her finger on Brad's razor.”

         “OK, you're coming with us.” The world spun around and shook as Dad picked her up. She let her head rest against his neck. “It's OK baby, we're just gonna take you for a ride.” She felt herself being lowered into the backseat of his economy car, and then Brandy put a supporting arm behind her head.

         It seemed only a few minutes later the rumbling of the car became the rumbling of a gurney surrounded by strange men in white clothes and blue masks and yellow rubber gloves. She could smell sour medicine and cleaning chemicals, and she was shivering so hard, she was just so cold! One of the men was talking to her father about possibly needing to amputate. She wanted to cry out, but she already knew they wouldn't hear her.


         When she woke up much later, she was in a cloth room by herself. An IV was tucked into the inside of her left elbow. She checked her right hand. It was still attached, though it looked like it had been pricked by a hundred needles. The streaks had faded, but were still clearly visible. Her finger had been firmly wrapped with soft white gauze. Outside the open curtain, she could hear women talking, a metal cart rolling, and machines beeping. After a minute a nurse walked in. She smiled. “Hey, what's going on! Looks like you got a nasty infection on your finger.”

         Susan smiled weakly. “Yeah.”

         “So, how are you feeling? Your mom and dad went to get coffee. They'll be right back.”

         It didn't sound like the nurse was really listening, so she waited a moment before answering. “My whole hand really hurts. It feels really hot. I feel like I'm going to throw up. And I feel really weak.”

         The nurse made notes on her clipboard. “Well, hey, we can expect that. You're on some really good medicine. Here's something you can throw up into if you have to, OK? So, why didn't you tell anyone about your teeny-weensy cut? Being big and brave?”

         “No,” she mumbled. “I did. They didn't hear me. They didn't want to hear me,” she added.

         “Oh, I see.”

         “Shut up. Be quiet! No talking at the table. They're too busy talking to hear me!” Suddenly angry, she turned her head away.

         The nurse patted her arm reassuringly. “Well, I'm sure they weren't trying to ignore you.” Susan didn't look back at her. The lady somehow reminded her of a cheerful Brandy. How could she know what it was like? Brandy never did. “Well, I'll be back to check on you in a few minutes. If you need anything, just say something, OK? The nurse's station is right outside.”

         After a little bit, she tried. “Excuse me?”

         No one answered back for a minute. Then a different nurse popped her head in. “Need anything, luv?”

         “Can I have something to drink?”

         “I'll bring you some ice chips in a minute.” head gone. Satisfied, she settled back.

         Just then, her parents walked in, followed by a swollen-eyed Brandy. Her mother was twisting her hands around each other. Both Mom and Dad looked concerned. “How are you feeling, Honey?”

         “OK.” For some reason, she didn't feel like repeating herself. They pulled up chairs, while Brandy just stood there looking at the wall.

         “Listen, your mom and I have been talking, and we've decided that she needs to give up her phone for a while.” Dad said. Susan stared. Mom without her phone? “We're going to give her one that only makes emergency calls. Were you trying to tell me something last night?” She nodded. “Was it your finger?” She nodded again. “I'm sorry I didn't listen. I'm gonna try real hard to listen more than I talk. Will you help me with that?”

         “OK.”

         Her mother spoke up. “We're thinking about sending Brandy to a special school. She just needs more attention than most.” Brandy getting sent away? Something about that made her feel sick.

         “Please don't,” she whispered.

         “Sweetheart, there's a lot of fights between all you girls and she seems to be in the center of them. I think it's better if-”

         “Honey, honey, just listen.” Mom put a hand on his knee. Dad looked like he swallowed a rotten pickle.

         “She didn't make the baby die.” From her corner of the room, Brandy suddenly looked up and spun around. “She's not trying to be mean. She just doesn't know how to be nice.” Her parents looked at each other.

         “If that's how you feel...”

         “How did you know about the baby?” Mom cried.

         “Brittney told us.”

         From her corner, Brandy started shaking her head and tearing up. Suddenly, she turned and ran out of the room. “Brandy!” their mother called out, then hurried after.

         Susan and her father gazed at each other in silence, then he reached over and picked up her discolored hand. “They had to make the cut bigger, drain the abscess.” He tenderly ran his thumb over the gauze on her finger. “But at least they left the finger on.”

         She smiled. “I'm glad they did. That's my ring finger. I'm supposed to wear a ring on that.”


         Two weeks later, everyone gathered together in the living room with Pastor Greg and a friend of his. The week before, Mom and Dad had gone out to meet with him alone. Mom's obsession for her phone had been nicely remedied shortly after by playing phone with Adam, who so far was using the opportunity to come out of his shell – at least on the “phone”. Brandy had also gone out to see him the next day with Mom, she had come back with a bunch of papers for different people to fill out, curiously remarking about the same four letters. Susan's finger had healed up nicely, with only a white scar visible where the doctor had cut it open.

         “OK, everybody ready to play a game? No? Yes? OK, here's how we play. I'm gonna throw this ball – this is the talking ball, so you can only talk when you have the ball. But before I do, I'm going to say something nice to or about the person I'm gonna throw it to. And then they have to say something nice about the next person to get the ball. You can only throw it to someone who hasn't gotten it yet. Understand? Okaaay, what I like about Pastor Greg is, he always welcomes people and never turns them away. Your turn!”

         “Well, what I like about Brandy is that she is very smart and creative.”

         Brandy practically jumped to catch the ball, then turned toward Susan. “What I like about Susan is, she didn't give up on me,” she smiled. “Thank you, sis.”