And finally, Grandmother at the dinner table, rapping my knuckles with her chopsticks, her face vicious.
"Money pit. You don't lift a finger around here, but you sure know how to eat."
"If I'd known you'd turn out to be a money pit, I would've drowned you in the outhouse the day you were born!"
In the chorus of their curses, something inside me suddenly let go.
The cold began to fade. The pain in my body started to dissolve, piece by piece.
I knew then. I was finally free.
Mom, Dad, Grandmother.
Without me in this family, will you finally be happy?
I was sitting on top of the freezer now, and when I looked down, I could see the small, frozen figure inside.
That was me.
No warmth. No weight. So this was what death felt like.
Grandmother and Dad were chatting about something, laughing easily, as if they didn't have a care in the world.
Then Dad glanced at his watch and shot up from the couch.
"Mom, start cooking. I'm going to pick up Herbert Dickerson and Lisa."
"Alright." Grandmother was already heading for the kitchen. "I'll get the ribs stewing. My grandson needs a good, hearty meal."
I watched her bustling around the kitchen.