Miracle Creek: A Novel by Angie Kim

Author:Angie Kim [Angie Kim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780374156022
Publisher: Sarah Crichton Books
Published: 2019-04-16T04:00:00+00:00

TERESA

TWO DAYS AFTER THE EXPLOSION, she overheard people discussing “The Tragedy,” as they called it in those initial days. She’d been in the hospital cafeteria, drinking coffee—or rather, stirring and pretending to drink it.

“It’s a miracle two of those kids survived,” said a woman’s voice—low-pitched and raspy, which Teresa was sure was deliberate, a woman trying to sound either sexy or like a man.

“Yup, sure is,” a man’s voice responded.

“Makes you think, though—God sure has a strange sense of humor.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the kid who’s pretty much normal is the one who ends up dead, while the autistic kid’s injured but lives, and the kid with severe brain damage is totally fine. It’s ironic.”

Teresa focused on her stirring, circling the spoon faster and faster, the white bits of congealed cream swept up in its torrents. She could almost hear the liquid rush down the spiral; a buzzing whirl filled her ears, overtaking the cafeteria noise. She stirred faster, harder, ignoring the coffee splashing over the rim and wetting her hands, willing the coffee cyclone to reach the bottom of the mug.

Something knocked the spoon out of her grip. She blinked and, somehow, the mug was on its side, the coffee everywhere. The buzzing ended, and in the silence she heard an echo of a clang, like an auditory afterimage. She looked up. Everyone was looking at her, no one and nothing moving except for the spilled coffee creeping outward toward the table’s edge.

“Here, ma’am. You okay?” the low-pitched woman said, slapping down napkins to form a dam between the coffee and the edge. The woman handed her one, and Teresa said, “Sorry. I mean, thanks.” The woman said, “It’s nothing.” She put her hand on Teresa’s and said again, “It was nothing, really,” her eyes sliding downward and a flush blooming on her cheeks, and Teresa knew she recognized her as the mom of the ironically fine girl.

The low-pitched woman turned out to be Detective Morgan Heights, and Teresa saw her now, walking to court after lunch. For some reason she couldn’t understand, Teresa felt a hot flush of shame every time she remembered the detective’s words in the cafeteria, what everyone probably thought: that Rosa, by virtue of being the most disabled, should’ve been the one who died. How fair that would’ve been. How logical. Clean. Get rid of the defective kid with the ravaged brain, the one who can’t talk or walk, the one who might as well be dead anyway.

Teresa positioned her umbrella to hide herself from Detective Heights. Standing in line to enter the courthouse, she heard someone say, “They might institutionalize him. He says the fecal smearing’s gotten worse. And the school’s having to use a straitjacket, his head banging’s gotten so bad.” Another voice said, “Poor thing. He’s lost his mother. No wonder he’s acting out, but—” Three teenagers got in line, drowning out the voices with their loud chatter.

TJ. Fecal smearing. Kitt had talked about it once, during a dive. Elizabeth had

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