Max

I don't remember dialing 911, or waking my sister up. though as I write this I realize she must..I can't even begin to imagine how it must have felt to be awakined to such a thing. I remember blue, I remember a feeling much like hitting your head on concrete but instead of my head the pain was in my chest. I remember the siren, the flurry of firemen in her small apartment. I remember being gently pushed aside and them working on him. I knew it was too late, I'd allready tried, his lips had bin dry, his wee body cold. I remember after, my mother being there,for a lil while, then leaving, my sister retreating to her room. I remember telling myself it wasn't my fault but believing it was.

My sister refused to talk about it after and I understood, though our mother didn't and I remember running interference for her. I remember my mother falling in Max's grave at the service and me whacking a friend for laughing though I near busted my gut holding my own laughter in.

Mostly I remember Max in his swing chair laughing and carrying on,mostly.