Jeremy Stone Read Online Free PDF Page A

scared, but
    tried not to show it. What
    did you use? I asked.
    I used
    a razor blade.
    I was very
    careful not
    to cut
    too deep.
    The most recent cut was not fully healed.
    There was a scab
    and a dark blue bruise under the skin
    around the cut.
    I wanted to run out of there, some place far from Coffee Coffee and never set foot in a coffee shop again. I wanted to get the hell away. I wanted to forget about Caitlan, about Jenson, about all the pale, pale people here and everywhere and go back to my old community. I wanted to stop talking again so no one would know my thoughts. I wanted the forest and the stream and the sun—the light inside the forest on a bright day—the sun shining through the maple and oak leaves and flashing through the white pine needles and the sparrows singing and the insects buzzing in my ears.
    Caitlan buttoned her sleeves
    and stared at me with
    a truly frightened, crazy look.
    I almost left her then. I was ready to just stand up and bolt out the door. And run.
    But I heard a voice.
    Hold your horses, Geronimo,
    Old Man said.
    You are a warrior, remember.
    A warrior does not run when
    he sees the enemy.
    What enemy? I asked silently. Who is the enemy?
    Old Man huffed.
    Same old enemy you had
    since you were little.
    You know—fear.
    Now quiet your mind
    and say something nice
    to Indian Eyes here.
    I didn’t know where to begin but Old Man was there making me sit up straight. (I felt his hand on my back.) And he was urging me to do something I never did, which was talk about my family and about me.
    So I told her about my mom first and how she had been fighting her demons and doing an okay job of it by cutting her addictions down to just smokes and booze and the occasional fling with a man when she couldn’t help herself. I told about finding her meditating on the floor and me thinking she was dead.
    That’s when Caitlan interrupted
    and said, Yeah, I thought about that.
    I wouldn’t want anyone I cared about
    to be the one to find me
    dead. Only strangers. That’s why it’s
    important to kill yourself someplace
    away from home, in a city somewhere.
    Which seemed just about the saddest thing in the world to me and I said that. Man, I said, it’s no good to be all alone in some strange city alive or dead. No good at all. (I was starting to get worked up here—maybe even angry that she’d consider doing this terrible thing.)
    But I cleared my throat and sipped some more coffee which now didn’t seem so bad.
    Old Man was in front of me now,
    right behind Caitlan, shaking his head.
    Watch the caffeine, Jeremy. Too much
    caffeine gives you the shakes.
    So I pushed the coffee cup away and focused on Caitlan again. Told her about my father Out West with not always having a lot of minutes on his phone. How phone conversations never ended with anyone saying goodbye, just the sound of being cut off and then static and eventually a dial tone or a woman’s voice saying, please hang up the phone.
    And I told her about the black dogs he spoke of. And how I had that image of me and him in the future in a grungy bar somewhere. And I think I was about to say something really important and meaningful but
    Caitlan cut me off. Jeremy,
    she said, her eyes dark and intense,
    Why are you telling me this?
    I don’t know, I said. I think it is because I care about you and want you to know who I am and to know that you are not alone. We all have messed up things in our lives and do our best to get on with it. (I know this sounds old and wise and that is definitely not me, Stoney Stone, but I was being coached by OM and he said it was okay to just let the words and stories spill out of me like water in a small mountain stream gushing over the rocks.)
    And besides, I said (when the water started to slow down), besides, I really like you.
    Her look told me that liking someone was not a big deal.
    I care about you.
    She still didn’t say anything.
    Maybe