Wing Jones

My mom doesn’t understand why I’ve asked her to come to the track. Or why I’ve asked her to bring LaoLao and Granny Dee. Granny Dee was insufferable in the car, smiling her know-it-all smile and dropping so many hints I was sure my mom would know what was happening.

Eliza is here, like I asked her to be. So is Coach Kerry. I need my mom to know that this isn’t just me, running crazy. That I’m going to be part of the team.

Aaron is here too. He comes over and gives my mom a hug, but I can tell he’s distracted. He rocks back and forth on his heels. He knows that to me, this is a bigger deal than when I ran for Coach Kerry. He wants me to impress them.

Eliza gives me a hug before we run, and then we line up at the starting line, like it’s a real race, and when Aaron blows the whistle, we take off. Eliza’s next to me for a second, and then I push forward, and then I’m running faster than I’ve ever run before. I know this, even though Coach Kerry isn’t timing me. I can feel it.

My dragon and my lioness appear by my side, even though it’s daylight; they’re helping me go as fast as I can to show my mom and Granny Dee and LaoLao that I’m good at something. That maybe I was born to do something too.

My mama can’t believe it. She’s hugging me and kissing me and holding me, not caring that I’m sweaty and smelly, and Granny Dee is hollerin’, “I told you so! I told you!” like she had anything to do with this at all and LaoLao is hopping up and down, which is a sight to see, grinning like I haven’t seen her grin in a long time, not since before Marcus was in the accident, and she’s stroking my head like I’m a prize-winning pup.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” says my mom once all the hullabaloo has calmed down.

“I didn’t know how.”

My mom smiles and holds me again. “Wait until Marcus wakes up. He won’t believe it!”





CHAPTER 29


I know which room is his. I stare up at it from the outside. It’s two a.m. and I’m back outside Grady Memorial Hospital. It’s infamous for the number of gunshot wounds they treat.

I guess I should be grateful that my brother killed someone in a drunk driving accident and not with a gun, and that he’s being charged with vehicular manslaughter and not manslaughter. Guess I should also be grateful he’s still breathing, even if it isn’t on his own.

I ran all the way to Grady by myself in the middle of the night, but I don’t know why. I can’t get in. This isn’t the movies, where I can pop into the supply closet, find an extra pair of scrubs, and masquerade as a nurse.

VISITING HOURS ARE OVER, says the sign, and the nurses and receptionists will say the same thing.

It’s funny, not ha-ha funny, but sad funny, because if Marcus were under eighteen, he’d be in the children’s section. And in there, they let family visit anytime. You can’t keep a mother away from her sick child.

I don’t know why they don’t get that even though Marcus is eighteen, he’s still someone’s child. He’s still my brother. I still want to see him.

Sort of.

I’m about to turn away to start the long run home when something catches my eye. Something no one else can see. A dragon’s tail, slipping around the corner, through the glass front doors. She isn’t even trying to hide, and I know she wants me to go after her. It isn’t the first time she’s led me to my brother.

I follow her. Walking quickly, not running, because I’m trying to look like I’m meant to be at the hospital in the middle of the night. I keep my eye on the dragon’s tail. She wouldn’t lead me into trouble.

The reception area is empty. A TV is on in the corner, showing a fuzzy rerun. I could walk to his room with my eyes closed. I keep them open, though, just in case I do run into anyone. I slip along through the corridors. The lights are dim this time of night, and when I hear a voice, I open the nearest door and step inside before closing the door gently behind me.

There’s a man sitting in the bed. He’s wrinkly and older than LaoLao and Granny Dee. Maybe older than them combined. You know the phrase “older than God”? I never understood that phrase till I saw this old, old, old white man.

“What the hell?” he says, but he is more curious than concerned. “You one of them girlies selling lollipops? Visiting the old?”

I shake my head. “No, sir, I’m visiting my brother.”

“At this time of night? I should ring my bell. Sound the alarm! We can’t have riffraff running through the hospital like it’s some kind of back alley.”

“Do you get many visitors, sir?”

He blinks at me, his old watery eyes narrowing. “That is a rude question, young lady.”

“No offense meant, I’m just curious.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I don’t. No one comes to visit me. You know why?”

“Why, sir?”

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