The House On Dale Street

Chapter 10

I came home to find Hazel in the living room, putting red bows on a Christmas tree. When did we get a Christmas tree? It was almost ten o'clock at night.

"Where'dya get this?" I said, drunk as hell, stepping into the living room.

Hazel stood up, a pair of scissors in her hand, "Jason brought it over- a gift from Charlotte- do you like it?"

"Jason? He came here?" I looked at the tree in the corner, covered in red bows. No lights, no ornaments, just red bows.

"He bring the bows too?" I said, swaying and feeling like I might throw up. One too many, one too many.

Hazel was smiling, but when she stood up and caught a whiff of me her smile dropped from her face and she said, "You've been drinking?"

"Yeah, so what?" I said walking towards the tree. The goddamn thing needed lights. What kind of tree didn't sparkle?

"Why are you looking at it like that?" Hazel said.

"Like what?" I said, folding my arms and staring at the ugly tree. Without lights it just looked like a dead tree in the corner of my living room.

"What's wrong with it?" she said, coming to stand beside me.

"Is this it? All you got is red bows? That's all you got?"

"That's all we can afford," she said.

"Where'dya get em?"

"Get what?"

"The bows. Where'dya get bows?"

I turned around to face her and Hazel said, "I hate you when you drink! I got the bows at the grocery store in town, they were only a dollar a pack- I bought two packs."

"Why did Jason bring us a tree?" I said, "Why does everyone in this goddamn town think we're some kind of charity cases! I'm about sick of people giving us stuff, unloading all their crap on us! We can buy our own tree!"

"He was being nice. No one thinks we're charity cases! You're just drunk. You need to go sleep it off. I was in a good mood and then--"

"He flirt with you?"

"What?!" Hazel screamed, "You're crazy as hell! Charlotte's son? Flirt with me? He's your friend for fuck's sake! You're insane!"

She threw the scissors at me. They hit me in the leg. They hurt, actually! They were those big, heavy kind of scissors. I couldn't believe that she'd thrown something at me! I grabbed the scissors off the floor and held them in my hand. I glared at Hazel. She was standing by the tree- the ugly tree that didn't do what a tree was supposed to do- It didn't shine! It didn't sparkle. It didn't make me feel like Christmas.

I tightened my grip on the scissors and then, for reasons I still can't explain, I brought the scissors down and stabbed myself in the forearm.

Hazel screamed. I looked down and saw what she was screaming at- blood was gushing from my arm- I'd cut a tendon or something- I'd stabbed myself harder than I'd meant to. A jagged fleshy rip ran down the center of my arm. I had done it so quick, I hadn't even felt it. Not until it was over. And then I was in tremendous pain.

"Ugghhh..." I said, putting my hand beneath my arm to catch the blood that was flowing heavily, "ugghhh..."

"Oh my God!" Hazel screamed, rushing towards me, "What did you do?"

What did I do? And why did I do it?

Hazel grabbed a hand towel that had been folded and sitting on the arm of the couch. She shook it loose and wrapped it around my arm and pushed me towards the couch. I sat down. Blood was coming through the towel. It was a lot of blood. And it kept coming. I felt like I might pass out.

"Hold on!" she said, "I have to run to the Ethenhurst's and call an ambulance, don't move!"

I was still sort of in shock, staring at the blood that was seeping through the thick towel. Suddenly I was stone cold sober and feeling like I might fall out at any second.

"Stay there!" Hazel said, as she ran out the front door.

The rest of that night is a blur. Maybe because I'd been drinking or maybe because I was in shock from losing all that blood, I don't know- all I remember of that night- were paramedics in the living room, bandaging my arm, and then Mr. Ethenhurst driving me and Hazel in the back of his New Yorker to the hospital in Lebanon.