Like a robot, she did exactly as directed. In her head, Iris was picturing a huge, bloody mess. The car smashed, her mother nearly road kill. She was trying not to think of what a terrible daughter she's been, but the thoughts were inescapable. Instead of yelling at her mother for always being drunk, she should've been trying to help her overcome her alcoholism. She should have cleaned more, cooked more, and gotten a job. She should've been there for her mother when she thought about how Iris's dad left them when she was only 3. She opened her locker, reached in and grabbed a handful of books. She stuffed them into her bag, not even bothering to look at which ones they were.

Walking back to the office, questions started spinning around in her head, none of them having to do with her mother's current state. Did I cause her to be an alcoholic? Does she know what I do when she upsets me? Why did she have to drink at lunch this one time? What made her drink today? Why did my father leave us? Why does it have to be this way? Without even realizing it, she'd been standing outside the office door staring blankly at a poster. "Sign up for chorus TODAY!" Yeah, right, she thought. Nervously, she walked into the office.

"Ready to go Miss McDevon," asked the shorter officer whose name turned out to be Officer Meadly. "Uhh, yeah. I guess," replied Iris half-heartedly. Like under mind control, she followed Officer Meadly without any thought. Upon reaching the police car, she didn't know whether to get in the front or back. Considering that she wasn't in trouble, she sat in the front. If the officer had any problem with that he didn't let on. All of the knobs and buttons on the dashboard made her dizzy. "So, Iris, your mother had been drinking and driving. Do you know where she was headed?" Officer Meadly asked her. "Uh, yeah. Back to work. It was her lunch break."

"Does she usually drink during lunch?"

"How should I know? I don't stalk her all day."

"Does she drink at home at all?"

"What difference does it make now? If she dies, it wouldn't matter if she cut limbs off nightly."

"Iris, where is your father? We found no recent record of him."

"Don't know."

"Okay."

After that Officer Meadly let her ride in silence.

The 15 minute drive uptown to the hospital seemed to take 15 hours. Each traffic light seemed to be mocking Iris. "You realize that every second I keep you waiting here your mother could die, and you'd never know it until I finally let you pass," is what it would say to her if it could. "Officer Meadly," Iris asked softly, "what happened to my mother? What is her chance of living?"

"The last I saw her they had her in the ambulance and they were trying to stabilize her breathing and heartbeat. She looked pretty bad though."

"Oh." replied Iris softly. A few more minutes went by slowly, quietly. Iris wished that the officer would say something. Anything to get her mind off of her mother. "God! How much longer until we're there," Iris exploded, "We've been in this damn car for what, two hours? My mom could've died a hundred times over!" Apparently the stoplight got to her. Calmly, Officer Meadly replied, "We'll be there in three minutes. Then we can go right in and see her. Officer Catter is with her right now. He'll call me if anything happens. She's in room 217 by the way."

"217 is my birthday. February 17, 1989," Iris thought. "Maybe it's a good sign. A good luck charm. Something." She looked out her window. Cars, buildings, people. None if it had anything to do with her. No one knew her, how she was feeling, what was wrong even. It seemed that nothing could help her now. Nothing could help her mother.

The car passed the local ice cream parlor, Eat-Up Ice Cream. Iris remembered that for her best friend's, Claudia's 13th birthday a bunch of their friends went there and all ordered a three-scoop sundae. Iris's sundae was three scoops of chocolate ice cream with hot fudge, nuts, whipped cream and an extra cherry on top. Then the car went past the library. Iris had spent many days there after school working on homework and reading. She'd stay there until closing, long past the time when she was done with her work, just so she didn't have to be at home with her alcoholic mother.