BBB is the only other person invited to the ceremony, because this special childhood place is mine alone—it’s what I have left, so I don’t want to share it with anyone except FC and BBB. Not even Donna and Ricky are invited.
Father Chee does a very good job eulogizing my mom, especially since he never met her. He says a lot of things about Mom going to heaven and my seeing her again, which is pretty nice, especially since Mom was never baptized or confirmed as a member of the Catholic Church—and I’m pretty sure she never went to confession—so I know FC is supposed to say Mom was going to hell and all.
Maybe the Pope is pissed?
I don’t care.
FC says he doesn’t care either.
I’m not going to tell you exactly what Father Chee says at Mom’s funeral, but it was very beautiful—as beautiful as Private Jackson’s best haiku, which is saying something. True.
We spread Mom’s ashes on the water and grass around the bench—and I pray flowers will bloom there in the spring, which is a girly and maybe silly sentiment, but a nice thought too.
CHAPTER 14
Donna takes me in, buys me a bed, gives me my own room, and begins sorting through the legal red tape involved for her to become my legal guardian, which is complicated since no one knows if my father is still alive or where he might be—and I don’t know of any living family I may or may not have since my mom left her home out west early on in life, hitchhiked east at the age of thirteen, and never told me anything about her parents whom she hated and refused to even name. I never even knew my own mother’s maiden name.
Donna says she knows enough people to keep me out of the foster care system at least until I turn eighteen this summer, provided that I will state before a judge that I want to stay with Donna and Ricky, which I do.
The police arrest a man with huge brown glasses and strange hair.
I am sure you read all about him in the papers or see him on television.
His face is everywhere.
He becomes famous.
He admits to doing what he did, but his lawyer stresses that the whole thing was random, an accident even, because my mother’s killer went off his medications, but is now back on meds, as if that matters at all to anyone.
Along with the families of the other victims, the prosecution contacts me and says I will be made to testify, which I will hate doing, even though I have Donna to help me out—and I’m not going to tell you about the trial, because it will prove to be too horrible.
My mother’s killer uses my name whenever he talks to the press.
Through the media he apologizes to all of his victims’ family members, but the only name I really hear him say is Amber Appleton.
He says he is sick.
He says he deserves whatever he gets—and his unfeeling mechanical voice makes me shiver.
He has a long criminal history.
He is a registered sex offender.
Looking into his eyes makes you believe that life can be absolutely meaningless.
He is like every other man who makes people disappear in horrible unimaginable ways.
He reminds me of a Nietzsche quote I found while doing Joan of Old research: “A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything.”
Donna tells me this man will go to jail for life, that he will be punished in terrible ways over and over again by the other inmates—and I tell her I don’t really care about any of that—in fact, I never want to talk about that man ever again, and I do not really care what happens to him.
CHAPTER 15
I do not go back to school.
I lose fifteen pounds.
I am always cold.
I become very jumpy; any old noise will scare me horribly.
Donna tries to get me to see a therapist, but I refuse.
I cannot stand listening to Ricky’s autistic nonsense, and I yell at him a lot—until he finally gets the message and just leaves me alone in my room.
I decide to quit being Amber Appleton, which isn’t to say that I change my name or anything. I just decide that I can’t keep living the way I used to live—swinging for the fences, believing that things are going to work out, that everything is worth fighting for, and that I am brave and strong enough to change my reality, because I’m not and I can’t.
Joan of Old was right.
I get her now, and what she said about life being a hell that I was only beginning to experience—that makes sense suddenly.
CHAPTER 16
I’m not a kid anymore.
CHAPTER 17
Ty, Jared, and Chad-in-a-backpack come over to Donna’s and—in my new bedroom—they say a lot of dumb things.
At first, they say they are sorry, and ask what they can do, and when I don’t say anything, they get sorta fidgety, and start talking about the recent Halo 3 games they have played in The Franks Lair, and how they are organizing an all-night video game tournament to help the football team raise money for new safer pads and helmets and other sundry equipment.
This seems important to them.