Chapter 1 I climb inside the Box of Shame Every time I do I’m reminded again of how my dog Lucky must have felt with that giant plastic funnel stuck around her neck after she got fixed Dad joked that it was her Cone of Shame This giant metal box is mine My poor pup hid in the closet for days until her stitches healed but at least she could hide This box is the one place I can’t fudge my way through No changing the subject No running away No control Just the truth smacking me in my face over and over That my ears are broken I’m broken The air is stale and makes me gag as I take out my aids grab the chunky beige-and-black headphones and fasten them over my ears I don’t even need the new lady in the white coat Yvonne to help She looks a little older than my brother Colby but is 1
definitely too young to be a doctor yet I’ve probably done this more times in the last two years than she’s had birthdays I sit on the only chair facing away from the tiny thick scratched-up window and count the holes climbing the metal walls in perfectly straight lines as Yvonne seals me inside I only get to twenty-six before static which I assume is actually words buzzes in my ears gradually getting louder until I can actu ally figure out what she’s saying and repeat it to me I know I-know-I-know-I-know She’s new I’m not In this box it feels like the whole hearing thing’s being rubbed in my face the same way kids in my class made fun of me when I botched the words to the R-Jarrow song last year in the Finish the Lyrics contest Seriously R-Jarrow’s my idol Everyone knows it I should have won but I had no idea the lyrics actually say The guy will sing I’ve always thought they were The sky will rain I looked it up online when I got home and sure enough that was the only line of the whole song I got wrong And it wasn’t like it was new I’d been singing it wrong for over a year 2
Whenever kids joked about me losing it felt like a slap in the face a reminder of what I no longer have A lot like I feel now with Yvonne I really hope I can fake-pass this test Maybe that will get Mom off my back and I won’t be stuck either looking like a Martian for the rest of my life or living as a mime Either way it’s a lose-lose situation people are going to stare Yvonne says Say the word airplane From a shelf opposite my chair in the box stuffed animals and a seriously creepy Mickey Mouse like mask watch me Like they’re waiting for me to mess up But this was an easy one Airplane I repeat Say the word hurl Not only do I hear the word but I feel it Deep in my belly Every time I’m locked in here Every time I’m forced to call on my nearly photographic memory by picturing the notebook I keep it’s filled with past words from this test I write them down every time as soon as I get out of this box I try to memorize them hoping for once they’ll reuse some so I for once can leave the Box of Shame without feeling stupid But lately to me stupid feels synonymous with sudden hearing loss Hurl I whisper as my stomach clenches 3
