Page 116 of Danger

“And I gotta tell you somethin’ important… and I hope you don’t get mad.”

I look at the door to make sure Daddy ain’t there.

“I’m the one who left you the notes.”

The machine keeps beepin’.

“Nana helped me spell the words. She wrote the ones I gave daddy to make him think they were from you. Told her they were for school. She didn’t know I was puttin’ them places.” I sniff. “I tried to make ’em nice, even if they looked messy. I’m a lefty. Nana says that’s why.”

I take a shaky breath.

“I just wanted to keep you with us.”

I look at her face again, just in case.

“Daddy works all the time. Does stuff for everyone else. Even hard things. He don’t got nobody takin’ care of him. I figured you’d be the kind of person who would take good care of him. Like you do the animals.”

My nose burns. I wipe it on my sleeve.

“You’d be real good at it,” I whisper. “At bein’ ours.”

The tears come faster now.

“Daddy says Stetson boys are like bulls,” I whisper. “We’re strong. We don’t ask for stuff.”

My eyes blur from the tears.

“But I ain’t that strong yet.”

My voice gets small. Smaller than I want it to. “So I’m gonna ask anyway.” I twist my fingers together like I do when I'm in church with Nana and I don’t know the words.

“Could you wake up? For my daddy? He’s tryin’ to be big about it. But he ain’t sleepin’. He thinks I don’t see it, but I do.”

My throat hurts.

“He needs you, Winnie.”

The tears slide off my chin and onto the blanket.

“And if… if you’re stayin’ asleep ’cause of me—” My words wobble. “’Cause I lied, or I wasn’t good enough?—”

“I’ll fix it. I’ll be better. I won’t lie no more. I won’t leave notes. I’ll just… I’ll just be good.”

I press my lips together so they stop shaking.

“Just don’t leave him.”

The hallway sounds wrong. Daddy’s voice is louder. Not mad-loud. Scared-loud. I don’t like that one.

The doctor keeps saying, “Just give us a minute,” like minutes are something you can hand to somebody.

I wish they would both stop talking. I wish Daddy would come in here and sit down. But I know he can’t. Every day he sits in this room, and she doesn’t wake up.

There’s a crash. Then Daddy says a word I’m not supposed to say ever.

The doctor says, “Let’s take a breath.”

I close my eyes. For just a second, I pretend we’re home. Winnie’s in the kitchen makin’ cookies. Daddy’s pretending he doesn’t like when she laughs real loud. I’m under the table feeding scraps to Benson Bone.