Upstander James Preller (best finance books of all time .txt) 📖

has to want to,” her mother said. “Really want to. I believe that it can’t be forced on him. Jonny has to have a voice in these big decisions, or else it won’t work. And right now, as crazy as this sounds, he thinks he’s doing okay.”

“He’s not,” Mary said.

“He thinks he can manage it. He says he wants to quit on his own, maybe later. Those for-profit rehab facilities”—she shook her head—“I don’t know. They aren’t for everyone. I’ve set him up with a therapist. But now he’s got to go and put in the effort. That’s an important step. He’s agreed to consider taking medication that will help him feel better, avoid what he calls the Black Fog, maybe not have the same strong urges.”

“What kind of medicine?” Mary asked.

“Mary, listen to me,” Mrs. O’Malley said. “Your brother has a substance use problem. Those drugs he’s been taking rewire the brain. He’s been using all kinds of things—alcohol, pills, cocaine, I’m not sure what else—for a few years now. He was doing it in our home, down the hall from your bedroom. I can’t have that. I can’t.”

“But what about him?” Mary asked. She felt upset. Mary looked away, blinked, determined not to shed tears.

Her mother touched Mary’s bare leg. Her hand felt as light and welcome as a ladybug. “I’ve been reading. Talking to friends, experts. I’m trying to take better care of myself so I can take better care of the people I love.”

Mary nodded, wiped her face.

“I tell Jonny that he’s throwing his life away,” she said, “but these past years, I’ve been doing the exact same thing. I’ve been worried sick every day, not paying enough attention to you. And I’ve learned that I can’t control if drugs are going to destroy his life. But I promise you, Mary, they will not destroy ours.”

They sat on that bench as if they were alone on a mountaintop. Just the two of them, locked in a long embrace. Mrs. O’Malley got up, walked away, returned with a big box of malted milk balls. And when they felt better, they shopped. “Retail therapy,” Mary’s mother called it. Mary did pretty well: two skirts, some tops, and the coolest boots in town. Not cheap, either.

Mrs. O’Malley paused before a crystal store, staring at the display window. The store was filled with healing stones and crystals, incense and essential oils, little Buddha figurines and spiritual books—it was that kind of place. A recording of songbirds played on the store speaker system. Mrs. O’Malley browsed inside for a while, and Mary didn’t even complain about the musty incense smell that lingered in the air and probably stunk up her clothes. But on the way out, Mary said, “Mom, I think it’s great if that stuff helps you. I won’t judge. Just one thing. Please don’t become one of those people who buys rocks at the mall for twenty-five dollars, okay?”

Mrs. O’Malley stopped in her tracks and laughed out loud. “I’m sorry, Mary, but no promises!”

“Some of the crystals are kind of pretty,” Mary admitted.

Together they walked hand in hand toward whatever came next.

25[school]

Mary noticed the new boy, Eric, in home base on the first day of school. This was a positive development. Home base was a free period, monitored by reasonably cool, bald-shaven Mr. Scofield, who pretty much let everybody do what they wanted so long as they weren’t disruptive. Once the school year kicked into gear, most kids used home base to catch up on sleep or homework or phone time. But on the first day of school, it was mostly lively chatter and lots of hugs. That was a thing that drove Mary a little nuts: all the hugging. It felt false, an empty show without substance.

Mary was chatting with the girls in the back, swapping schedules and stories about their summers, when she looked over and there he was. Eric sat by himself, head down, pretending to be absorbed in a paperback. Mary could see that his eyes roved around, slyly checking out the new faces. She couldn’t blame him. It had to be hard to be the new kid in a big, loud school like BCMS.

Behind him and two rows over, she caught sight of David Hallenback. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was ever able to run a full mile. Kind of doubted it. Oh well. Not every thought that pops into your head is the kindest. You have to sort through them, discard the worst, Mary figured. Hallenback was a loner, unpopular and still basically a little boy. Seventh grade was curious that way. A mish-mash between elementary and high school. Some kids rocketed past puberty—became boys with muscles and girls with curves—while many others hadn’t made the leap yet. David was still one of them.

Mary saw that Hallenback was staring with an intense expression of contempt. Eyes blazing, brow furrowed. She followed his gaze and recognized the target of his anger: it was Eric, the new boy.

But why?

Hallenback’s hostility gave Mary a brief, uneasy feeling. The moment passed, Mary glanced away, and he was again just another curly-haired kid without a clue. Even so, Mary felt a chill, convinced she had glimpsed something awful and damaged beneath the surface. His gentle public mask had fallen away. There was anger beneath it all.

After attendance, Mary boldly slid into an empty seat beside Eric. With a tilt of her head, Mary indicated Hallenback and confided, “I wouldn’t talk to that kid if I was you.”

Eric looked at her—wearing jeans and a light-colored shirt that showed off her tan—and his eyes widened in recognition. “You were with those guys that day.” He glanced back at Hallenback. “And that’s the kid you were following, right?”

Mary stretched, raising her arms to the ceiling. On the court, Eric had told Griff that he didn’t see anyone. Now he just confirmed that it wasn’t true. He’d seen Hallenback after all. Eric wasn’t a practiced liar. A good