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  After supper, I call home. Mom sounds mad, but she lets me talk to Linda. I tell Linda to listen. Then I play some notes on the piano for her. “That’s a piano,” I tell her. “It’s full of notes—hundreds of them.”

  “Oh,” she says. “It sounds like being happy.”

  “It is happy!” I say. “When you visit on Saturday, I’ll show you some more happy notes.”

  Then I say goodbye and hang up the phone. When I go to bed, I think about living in this place. It’s so different from my home. The staff aren’t like my mom. I like them a lot, and I wonder if that’s wrong. Because you’re supposed to love your mom best—no matter what.

  But the staff don’t yell, I think. They don’t hit. They feed me lots. And they like mistakes.

  I think about this for a long time. I’m not too sure about any of it. But I know one thing for sure—I’m going to play that piano again.

  I fall asleep.

  chapter eleven

  The next day, Rose walks me to school. Then she goes back to the group home. I stand beside the wall and watch the other kids play. I can see Bill playing marbles with some of his friends. Larry isn’t one of them. I think today I’d like to play with Bill and his friends. But I don’t have a marble.

  Then I remember the gum ball Joe gave me at breakfast. It’s kind of like a marble. I go over to Bill and ask if I can play. I show him the gum ball and say it’ll be my marble. Bill and his friends laugh. They say I can play.

  I line up a shot with my gum ball. I think I can take out a blue marble real easy. But then someone pushes me from behind. I fall over and he grabs my gum ball. It’s Larry. He grins and laughs at me. Then he pops my gum ball into his mouth and chews it.

  “Come on, loser!” he says. “A gum ball for a marble! What’s wrong with you, group-home boy? Did you lose all your marbles?”

  I’m madder than mad. That gum ball was from Joe. It made me a friend of his. And it was making me friends here, too. I get to my feet real slow. All around me, kids are shouting, “Fight! Fight!” I can see it in their faces—they want a fight. If I fight Larry, they’ll like me. Kids always like the biggest, meanest guy. That was the way it was in my last school. That’s the way it is in all schools.

  My heart is real loud. I can’t think. I get my hands and feet ready. If everyone wants a fight, I’ll give them one.

  Then Mr. Warner butts in. He runs over and stands between Larry and me. “What’s going on?” he asks.

  “It’s a fight,” says a girl. “They were going to fight.”

  The kids look disappointed. They wanted a fight and now they won’t get one. They start to walk away.

  “What was the fight about?” asks Mr. Warner.

  Bill steps forward. He looks upset, but not at me. “Larry started the fight,” he says. “Jason was playing marbles with us. Everything was okay. Then Larry came over. He pushed Jason and grabbed his gum ball.”

  “His gum ball?” Mr. Warner asks. He looks mixed-up.

  “He didn’t have a marble,” Bill says. “So he used a gum ball.”

  Some of the kids start to laugh. I get embarrassed. Then a boy I don’t know punches my arm—not hard, but as if he likes me. And I see the kids think my gum ball is funny, not stupid. I laugh, too.

  “I didn’t take no gum ball!” Larry says. “Try and prove it.” He swallows my chewed-up gum ball—I see it go down his throat. “See?” Larry says. He opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. “No gum,” he says.

  “Larry took Jason’s gum ball,” Bill says. He sounds mad. “I saw it happen.”

  Mr. Warner looks at me. “Well, Jason,” he says. “What do you have to say about this?”

  I think real fast. I know Larry is just paying me back for our last fight. Then I look at the kids who are standing around. I see some who don’t want me to fight—Bill and his friends, but some others, too. I’m surprised by this. I don’t have to fight to make them like me, I think. They like me because they think I’m funny.

  So I say, “I don’t care about the gum ball. I didn’t want to eat it anyway. My dog sat on it this morning before I came to school.”

  All the kids start to laugh. They laugh real hard. Even Mr. Warner laughs. The only person who isn’t laughing is Larry. He looks sick.

  The bell rings and the kids go into the school. Mr. Warner puts his hand on my shoulder. “Good for you, Jason!” he says. “You did very well. You stayed out of a fight. And you made some new friends.”

  I don’t know what to say. A principal has never said anything like that to me before. “A dog didn’t really sit on my gum ball,” I tell him. “I made that up. I don’t even have a dog.”

  Mr. Warner grins. “I won’t tell Larry if you won’t,” he says.

  I grin back. “Okay,” I say. “I promise I won’t.”

  “Now, off to class,” says Mr. Warner, and I run into the school.

  chapter twelve

  Then comes the day I’ve been waiting for. It’s Saturday, and Mom and Linda are coming to visit. All morning, I do chores. When I clean my room, I find the ham sandwich I hid in my dresser. I forgot I put it there. It smells bad so I throw it out. I’m pretty sure now they’ll give me all my suppers.

  When I finish cleaning my room, I have to vacuum the living room. Then I dust. I feel like Cinderella, but finally I’m done.

  We have lunch. Then there’s nothing to do but wait. Mom and Linda are supposed to get here at 1:30. That feels like hours away. Joe wants me to play outside, but I’m too nervous. My heart is loud and my tummy hurts. How will Mom be when she gets here? I think. I sit on the sofa and watch out the window. Will she be mad? Will she be tired? Will she just want to go home again?

  A car pulls up outside the house. Mom is in the front seat beside Peter. Linda is in the back. I start to run out the front door, but Sue tells me to wait. So I kneel on the sofa and wave out the window. Linda waves back. Mom does, too—sort of.

  They come in the front door. Mom says, “Hi, Jason.” She doesn’t smile. Linda gives me a big smile, but she looks nervous. Sue tells me to show them around the house. I show them my room, then the rest of the house. It’s bigger than our house. Linda holds tight onto my hand. Mom is real quiet.

  I bring some toys to the living room so Linda can play. Mom sits on the sofa and watches. Sue is in the kitchen, baking cookies. Peter and Joe are playing pool in the basement.

  “I did good this week,” I tell Mom.

  “You got into a fight,” she says.

  “Only on the first day,” I say. “Not since then.”

  She doesn’t say anything.

  “I made some new friends,” I say. “At school and here.”

  Mom looks at her watch. Already she’s thinking about going home. She wants to go home and leave me here, I think. Forever. She wants to leave me here forever.

  “I learned to play the piano,” I say. “Look, Linda—now I can show you the happy notes.”

  My heart is loud and my head hurts. All I can think is, Make Mom talk! Make Mom listen! Make Mom want to be here!

  I go to the piano. I sit on the bench. Linda comes over and stands beside me. I think of the song Rose is teaching me—“Mary Had A Little Lamb.” But it’s not good enough. It doesn’t play high and low. I need something big. I need something loud. I need something that will talk to Mom and tell her what I want.

  I put a finger on the piano and push down a note. I play another note. Then I just let my fingers do what they want. They go high and low. They play all over the piano. They play loud. They play soft. Linda is smiling. But when I look at Mom, she isn’t looking at me. She’s looking at the floor.

  Look at me! I think. I want you to look at me!

  But Mom doesn’t. She just looks at the floor. I get so sad then—sad and mad. I’m trying so hard, but I can’t make Mom look at me. She doesn’t love me, I think. She’ll never love me.

  My arms come up and I smash them hard onto the piano. I smash again and again. Now the piano i
s talking to my mom. It’s talking loud and it’s talking mad. Bang! I think. Bang! Crash! Bang!

  Peter runs into the living room. He grabs my arms and pulls them off the piano. Then he and Sue lift me onto the floor and sit on me. This makes me madder and I start to fight. But they’re stronger than me and they hold me down.

  I start to cry. It all bursts out of me. “Mom hates me!” I say. “I want her to love me, but she doesn’t. No matter what I do, she won’t love me. How can I make her love me? How?”

  Peter and Sue let me up. I sit with my hands over my face. Now I’m scared. Mom heard what I said. For sure, she’ll really hate me.

  It gets real quiet. I can’t look. I can’t look at anyone.

  Linda sits down beside me. “I love you, Jason,” she says. “Love you lots.” She puts a hand on my arm and pats it. I cry harder.

  Finally, Mom says something. She says, “I don’t hate you, Jason. We’ve had some hard times, it’s true. But I do love you. And I’m doing my best.” She sits real quiet for a bit. Then she looks at me and I see it in her eyes. She’s scared like I’m scared. She doesn’t know what to do, either.

  “I want to be good, Mom,” I say. “I want to be perfect for you.”

  Now Mom starts to cry, too. “Come here, Jason,” she says.

  My heart gets real loud. I get up slow and walk over to her.

  “Oh, Jason,” she says, and then she hugs me—tight and close, like she hugs Linda. “My boy,” Mom says. “I don’t know what to do with you. I don’t know how to help you. You have problems and you need help. I’m not saying you can never move home again. But you need to be in this group home for now.”

  Mom stops and thinks a bit. She’s still crying. “And maybe I need help, too,” she says. “I’m not perfect, either. Maybe I’ve made mistakes, too.”

  “It’s okay, Mom,” I say. “Just cry. It’s okay to cry, you know. It makes you tired, but it’s okay.”

  Mom smiles a little. Then Linda butts in and we have to hug her, too. All three of us hug tight, and I feel it—something is different. I still have to live in the group home, but now I know it won’t be forever. And Mom is going to try to be good, just like me. My heart stops pounding so loud, and my head doesn’t hurt so much. I take a big breath. Peter gives me some Kleenex and I blow my nose.

  Sue brings out some juice and cookies. After we eat the cookies, Mom goes to the office and talks to Sue. Then she and Linda have to go. At the front door, Mom pats my face. She says, “The staff say you’re doing well, Jason. We’ll come visit again next Saturday.”

  She smiles and it’s a real smile. I can tell she means it just for me.

  Linda’s smile is real, too. “Bye bye, Jason,” she says. “Play more happy notes when you call me tonight.”

  I watch from the window as Mom and Linda walk to the car. Linda gets into the back and Mom gets into the front. Sue honks the horn as they drive away.

  Then they’re gone again. I stare out at the street. How can that be—my mom and sister were here, and now they’re just gone away.

  But next Saturday, I think. They’ll be here again. It’s not forever.

  But still it’s hard. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Mom said she loved me, I think. But will she really let me move home again? Or will I be stuck in this group home maybe forever?

  All these questions, and I don’t know the answers. If only I did—right now. But I guess I can’t, I think. I can’t make the answers happen right now. I’ll have to wait.

  Joe comes into the living room. “Hey, Jason,” he says. “Want to play cards?”

  And you know, I think, maybe this place isn’t so bad.

  “Okay,” I say, and Joe gets out the cards.

  Acknowledgments

  The author would like to thank Harold Glass, MSW, RSW, for his valuable and valued comments concerning the manuscript.

  About Beth Goobie

  Beth Goobie spent five and a half years working in locked and open residential treatment settings for children and teens. She is also a multi-award winning author who has published books for both young adult and adult audiences. She has appeared on the American Library Association’s Best Books list, been nominated for two Governor General’s Awards, and won the Canadian Library Association’s Young Adult Book Award. Beth studied at the University of Winnipeg and lives in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.

  Also by Beth Goobie

  Novels for Young People

  Born Ugly

  Hello Groin

  Fixed

  Flux

  Sticks and Stones

  The Lottery

  Before Wings

  The Dream Where the Losers Go

  Something Girl

  The Colours of Carol Molev

  The Good, the Bad, and the Suicidal

  I’m Not Convinced

  Kicked Out

  Who Owns Kelly Paddick

  Hit and Run

  Mission Impossible

  Group Homes from Outer Space

  Poetry

  Scars Of Light

  The Girls Who Dream Me

  Adult Novels

  The Only-Good Heart

  Could I Have My Body Back Now, Please?

  Copyright © 2013 Beth Goobie

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  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of Red Deer Press or, in the case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from Access Copyright (Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency), 1 Yonge Street, Suite 800, Toronto, ON, M5E 1E5, fax (416) 868-1621.

  Published in Canada by Red Deer Press, 195 Allstate Parkway, Markham, ON, L3R 4T8

  Published in the United States by Red Deer Press, 311 Washington Street, Brighton, Massachusetts 02135

  www.reddeerpress.com

  Edited for the Press by Peter Carver

  Cover and text design by Daniel Choi

  Cover image courtesy of iStockphoto

  We acknowledge with thanks the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Ontario Arts Council for their support of our publishing program. We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund (CBF) for our publishing activities.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Goobie, Beth, 1959-

  Jason’s why / Beth Goobie.

  ISBN 978-0-88995-484-7 (paper), 978-1-55244-309-5 (epub)

  I. Title.

  PS8563.O8326J38 2012 jC813’.54 C2012-905181-0

  Publisher Cataloging-in-Publication Data (U.S.)

  Goobie, Beth.

  Jason’s why / Beth Goobie.

  [80] p. : col. ill. ; cm.

  Summary: A nine-year-old boy sent to a group home by his mother, who can’t handle him any longer, learns to trust the people around him, and to talk about his fears despite his concern that his mother might not take him back.

  ISBN: 9780889954847 (paper), 978-1-55244-309-5 (epub)

  1. Group homes -- Juvenile fiction. 2. Interpersonal relations -- Juvenile fiction. 3. Family problems -- Juvenile fiction. I. Title.

  [Fic] dc23 PZ7.G6735Ja 2012