Gone Read Online Free PDF Page B

whore.”
    Cabel makes a muffled noise from the other room.
    “Okay, so he’s dying?”
    Janie’s mother takes a long drink from the glass. “That’s what they say.”
    “Well, was he in an accident or is it a disease or what?”
    Dorothea shrugs and waves her hand loosely. “His brain exploded. Or a tumor. Something.”
    Janie sighs. “Do you need me to go with you to the hospital again today?”
    For the first time in the conversation, Janie’s mother looks Janie in the eye. “Again? You didn’t go with me yesterday.”
    “I got there as soon as I could, Ma.”
    Janie’s mother drains the glass and shudders. Shestands at the counter, one hand holding the empty glass, the other holding the bottle of cheap vodka, and she stares at it. She sets both glass and bottle down hard and closes her eyes. A tear escapes and runs down her cheek.
    Janie rolls her eyes. “You going to the hospital or not? I’m”—she grows bold—“I’m not sitting around all day waiting.”
    “Go do whatever you want, like you always do, you little tramp,” Dorothea says. “I’m not going back there anyways.” She shuffles unsteadily past Janie, down the hall and into her room, closing the door once more behind her.
    Janie lets out a breath and moves back into the living room where Cabel sits, a witness to it all. “Okay,” she says. “Now what?”
    Cabel looks peeved. He shakes his head. “Well, what do you think you should do?”
    “I’m not going back to see him, if that’s what you’re asking.”
    “Me? Of course not. It’s totally up to you if you want to see the guy.”
    “Right. Good.”
    “I mean, he’s a deadbeat dad. Never done a thing for you. Who knows, maybe he has another family. Think of how awkward that would be if you just showed up and they were all there. . . .” Cabel trails off.
    “Yeah, God, I never thought of that.”
    “I’m trying to think if there were any Feingolds at Fieldridge High. Maybe you have half-siblings, you know?”
    “There’s that one guy, Josh, that freshman who played varsity basketball,” Janie says.
    “That’s Feinstein.”
    “Oh.”
    And then there is a moment, a pause, as Cabel waits for Janie.
    “So, Feingold, that’s Jewish, right?” she asks.
    “Does that change anything if it is?”
    “No. I mean, wow. It’s interesting, anyway. I never really thought about my roots, you know? History. Ancestors. Wow.” Janie’s lost in thought.
    Cabel nods. “Ah, well. You’ll never know, I guess.”
    Janie freezes and then looks at Cabel.
    Winds up and slugs him in the arm.
    Hard.
    “Ugh!” she says. “You loser.”
    Cabel laughs, rubbing his arm. “Dang! What’d I do this time?”
    Janie seethes, half-jokingly. She shakes her head. “You made me give a shit.”
    “Come on,” he says. “You cared before. Didn’t you ever wonder who your father was?”
    Janie thinks about the recurring dream her mother has—the kaleidoscope one where Dorothea and the hippie guy hold hands, floating. She’d wondered more than once who her father was. Wonders now if that was Henry in the dream.
    “He’s probably some suit with two-point-two kids and a dog and a house by U of M.” Janie looks around her crap-hole of a house. Her crap-hole life, playing mom to an alcoholic twice her age. Knowing that without Dorothea’s welfare check and Janie’s income to supplement it, they are just one step away from being homeless. But Janie doesn’t want to think about that.
    Janie takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “All right. I’m grabbing a shower now, and later I’ll head over to the hospital. I suppose you’re coming with me then?”
    Cabel smiles. “’Course. I’m your driver, remember?”
    11:29 a.m.
    Cabel and Janie take the stairs up to the third floor. By the time they reach the double doors that lead to the ward, Janie’s moving more and more slowly until she stops. She turns abruptly and goes into the waiting room instead.
    “I can’t do this,”