Hey Jude Page 5
Jude’s door is closed. When I go to turn the handle, I expect resistance. I’m having a flashback to the last time this happened. I almost feel like I can’t open it. Like I’ll have to break the door open again.
But the door opens easily, the smell of her room hitting me hard in the face. It’s pitch-black in here. I have to get her to take down those fucking blackout blinds. I flick the light switch, but the light doesn’t come on. I didn’t change the bulb. I remember she told me it was burned out. Stupid me for thinking she would change it herself.
I run over to the window. I trip over a pair of shoes and swear, then pull up the blinds. The light floods in, blinding me for a second. I turn to the bed. The comforter is in a big heap. My sister is on top. She’s naked, curled into a ball so tight it looks like she’s trying to disappear. Her phoenix tattoo stands out against her pale skin, blue and black and red from dried blood. There are pill bottles on her desk. Three. Open. I move closer. They’re all empty.
Jack appears in the doorway and looks over at Jude, his eyes wide.
“Get me that garbage can,” I shout, pointing at the overflowing bin by her closet.
He grabs it and pours the contents out onto the floor while I run over to the bed and lift Jude up, uncurling her.
“Hey, Jude. You have to wake up now.” I’m not talking normally—I’m yelling in her ear.
She groans, and I exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding.
She’s alive.
Jack brings over the bin, and I bend Jude over it. She weighs next to nothing, but her limbs are heavy in my arms.
“This is the gross part. You might not want to be here,” I say to Jack.
He shakes his head and pulls out his phone as I stick my fingers down my sister’s throat. Jack’s calling 9-1-1. I hear the tones of the numbers and I’m about to tell him not to, but I don’t. I’ve spent so long trying to protect Jude from the world, but I haven’t done my job, because here we are again. The gross tang of vomit fills the air as she coughs and splutters. I look away, glance over at those empty pill bottles just sitting there on her desk. A silent monument to my failure.
My failure. My sister. My pain.
“Ambulance. Suicide attempt.” Jack is speaking fast into the phone, his voice urgent and strained. He gives the operator my address. Fills her in with more details of the scene. He walks over to the pill bottles and recites the names of Jude’s meds into the phone. How did she even get her hands on them? I picked numbers for the lockbox that I never thought she would guess. But maybe I’m too predictable. So reliable I’m unreliable.
I hold Jude tightly as shudders rock her body. I fumble around for a blanket, something to cover her naked body. I taste salt and realize I’m crying—hard. Crying for Jude, crying for me, crying because I failed at something that shouldn’t have been my job to begin with. How could I have been so stupid as to think I could handle this all on my own? Handle my beautiful, depressed sister?
I can’t stop crying, and the tears are burning my eyes. Jude has run out of puke now. I check the bin and see a bunch of half-dissolved pills in there. They’ll pump her stomach anyway though. They’ll take her into the hospital—the place she begged, bargained with me, not to go back to. They will put her on suicide watch, and who knows how long they’ll keep her? And I will come sleep in her empty room. I will smell all her gross and wonderful smells. And I will cry and cry and cry until I have no water left in my body and all I am is a dry, hopeless husk.
Jack stays on the phone with the operator but comes to sit down beside me.
I hear sirens in the distance.
I wrap a blanket around Jude and continue to hold her tightly. I never want to let go. Time moves slow but way too fast at the same time. Jude’s eyes are closed, her dark charcoal liner somehow still perfect. Like her. Perfectly imperfect.
The paramedics arrive and try to take her out of my arms. I resist. Hold tighter. Scream “NO, NO, NO!” But Jack grabs my arms, the softness of his touch melting me.
He loosens my grip, and they pull her away. I fall into his arms.
“She’s my sister,” I whisper between sobs. “She’s my everything.”
I am a lake of tears now. Salt and Jack’s earthy scent are all I notice now.
“I know, Penny,” Jack whispers back. “And she’s the luckiest person on earth.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mom holds hands with me as we sit in the hospital waiting room. It’s been two days and I haven’t been in to see Jude yet. Two days, but it feels like forever. My heart was so broken when they took her away, and I was afraid it would break even more if I saw her. She’s been in and out of sleep. They are keeping her sedated and on twenty-four-hour suicide watch.
I take a deep breath. Mom squeezes my hand. My phone vibrates in my pocket. Jack. He’s been amazing over the past couple of days, coming to visit me after school and staying over while my mom was at work. I took time off school for the first time in forever and I cancelled my shifts at Java World. And then I slept. I haven’t had so much sleep in who-knows-how-long. It felt so good.
I look over at Mom. Her face looks tight. We are both so tired, but we have been talking. I told her how much everything was piling up on me: work, school, taking care of Jude. We both cried and hugged and Mom promised me I wasn’t alone. She has asked for some day shifts so she can be there for us in the mornings and evenings. She is going to take over control of Jude’s meds, although I will help her when she needs it, of course. And she’s using her hospital connections to get Jude into programs and therapy in the out-patient mental health wing. She will still be an in-patient for a bit though, until she is fully stabilized. I hate that, because I know Jude hates it. But we have to do this right. Over the past couple days I have had to come to terms with the fact that I can’t do everything, that I have my limits. That sometimes, like Jack says, I have to do something for myself.
“I’m going to audition for the school play this year,” I say to my mom.
She looks over at me, surprised. “Really?”
“Yeah.” The thought came out of nowhere, but it felt right as I said it. It felt good to say something normal. We have just been sitting here in silence for the last half hour. I am still trying to get up the courage to go in to see Jude.
“I’ve been wanting to try out forever.”
Mom nods and smiles. “You’ll be perfect,” she says.
I don’t necessarily think so, but I appreciate her support anyway. “I need to make time for things,” I say.
Mom squeezes my hand again. “I know. You need time for you, Penny.” We have talked about this. We both know this. Now I just have to accept it. I’ve been living for Jude so much, now it’s time to live for me.
My phone vibrates again and I smile. I know it’s Jack, but I’ll check it later. I’m finally ready. I get up and release Mom’s hand. She stands with me, but I motion for her to sit.
“I’ll be okay.”
She frowns a little, but lets me go.
I walk down the hall to Jude’s room and pause before pushing open the door. I almost expect it to be locked, but it opens easily, silently. Unlike at home, Jude’s hospital room is bright and clean. The curtains on the window are wide open and sun is streaming through it, throwing light on the bed where Jude is lying. She is beautiful as always, but her black eye liner is gone, so her face looks smaller, more fragile. I move toward the bed. I’m surprised to realize I’m shaking. This is Jude. I know her so well, love her so much. But she has been my responsibility for so long that now I feel like I failed her. I am shaking and trying not to cry at the sight of her, back in the hospital where she didn’t want to be.
When I reach the side of her bed I lean over and kiss her on the forehead. My eyes well with tears as I remember every first day of school when it was her kissing me. That kiss always meant more than anything to me.
As I pull away her eyes open and she smiles softly.
“Hey Jude,” I say.
“Penny Lane,” she whispers.
I told myself not to cry, but I can’t help it. I sink down into the chair beside her bed, put my head down on her arm and sob. I feel her hand on my head then, softly stroking my hair.
“She’s in my ears and in my eyes,” Jude says, speaking louder over my tears.
And I cry even harder because with those words I know that, at least for now, my sister, my everything, is going to be okay.
Acknowledgments
It’s always hard to know who to thank, because I want to thank everyone. My incredibly supportive kidlit writing community here in Toronto. My awesome parents, who nourished my creativity. My amazing husband, who has always understood me, loved me and been my caretaker when I need one. Thank you to my friends and partners who fill my life with joy and stories and inspiration. Thanks to the various therapists throughout the years who have helped me through some terrible times. Finally, thanks to the team at Orca for making this story into a fully fledged book.
Star Spider’s stories and poetry often explore mental health and LGBTQ themes. Her debut novel, Past Tense (HarperCollins), was published in 2018. She lives in Toronto.
For more information on all the books in the Orca Soundings line, please visit
orcabook.com.