Money Tree

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AB B Y R O W LAN D

The hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach greeted me as I awoke, and I acknowledged
it quietly, as is polite. It pressed on my ribcage, constantly reminding me of its unwelcome
presence, and eventually I accepted it wasnt going to leave if I just lay there.
Using the patches of sunlight coming in through the broken shades as my guide in the
dim room, I dragged myself off the squeaky russet mattress and padded along the timeworn
wood floor. I was careful to avoid the rotting board that would send me falling into the kitchen
below. I ran into the ledge at the top of the stairs as I stumbled across the hall, causing piles of
paper and indiscernible objects to crash down in a domino-like manner around the entire
second floor. By the time Id gotten to my brothers bedroom and switched on the light, Id
probably woken the whole damn neighborhood.
Rusty, I hissed, my voice thick with sleep. Time to get up.
I threw the blankets off of him, which I knew hed hate, and watched him curl up and
clutch his stomach.
The hollow feeling was greeting him, too.
As he forced himself up, I slipped into the bathroom. The floor was ridden with empty
two-dollar shampoo bottles and empty toilet paper rolls neither my mom nor I had cleaned up
yet. The dry, hardened residue of the shampoo made my stomach churn, so I put off touching
the bottles until my mom ordered me.
Rubbing my eyes, I filled the plastic Dora the Explorer cup sitting by the sink with tap
water. The faucet squeaked as I turned it and the stream came out agonizingly slow, but it was
enough. I downed it quickly, savoring the sensation of my stomach filling.
Back in my room, I found myself faced with a choice. I could wear the yellow cotton top I
got five years ago from a neighbor who pitied me, or the blue one Elle handed me a week ago
during lunch. Its got a coffee stain right across the chest, but Im not one to be picky.
I knew my mom would start calling at us soon in that weary voice of hers, so I slipped
the coffee stain winner over my only sports bra and shuffled down the stairs. She was sitting in
the kitchen reading the classifieds in the newspaper. That was new. We dont pay for the daily
newspaper. If I ever brought anything like that up to her shed get that look on her face, like she
saw a ghost, and say,
Do you think money grows on trees?

Whered you get the paper? I asked, grabbing my backpack, a hand-me-down from my
cousin Andi who went to college and never really came back.
Her head turned and I could see the dark circles under her eyes. Id learned to read the
lines of her face over the years, and I could see shed been awake for a very long time. Shed
probably been doing what shes doing now: looking for a better job than the rip-off owner of the
Crab Shack gave her.
Old Missy didnt want it anymore.
So in other words, she stole it.
For some reason, I got the urge to say something snarky, like, got anything for breakfast
this morning? Just to spite her, I guess. But instead I bit my lip, because she doesnt need my
nagging on top of all the work she does for us. I grabbed my damp Converse from the shoe
corner, waited as Rusty rushed out after me, and closed the door behind us.
Our street was quiet, as is expected in this sleepy town, but people were beginning to
emerge from their houses. Ginny Hudson was sitting on her old wooden rocking chair with little
Charlie. She was holding an empty milk bottle in one hand and Charlie still looked hungry as
could be, but he grinned widely at me all the same. I put a hand over my stomach, as if I were
embarrassed by the hollow feeling, and smiled back.
Enchiladas, Rusty said suddenly in his melodic voice.
Hmm?
The gravel pressed into my bare feet, but I hardly felt it, my calluses were so rough. My
shoes dangled from my hands, just as Rustys did from his. We only had shoes because the
school made us wear them.
If I could have any food right now, itd be enchiladas. He pushed back the mop of
copper hair he was nicknamed for and winked at me.
Hed never had enchiladas in his entire life, and we both knew it. I snorted. Elle will
have something for us when we get to school.
He sighed dramatically. Thats so far away, Quinn.
Then youd better hurry up.
The walk from Byrd Road to Wesserli High School was approximately two miles. We
were just close enough that there wasnt a bus to pick us up, and just far enough that walking
meant a forty-minute trek.
Elle was waiting in the usual spot by the trophy case, holding a brown paper bag. It was
wrinkled and soggy because she stuffed it up her coat sleeve so her mom wouldnt see her
sneaking it out. Ms. Casanova is a perceptive woman, and if she caught wind of her daughters

system, shed probably call child protective services. Rusty and I agreed being taken away from
our mom wouldnt help anything.
I grabbed at the bag and tore it open, not even trying to be subtle or mannerly. There
was half of a strawberry jelly sandwich calling my name. Rusty grabbed the other half and we
tore into our meal. Elle didnt say a word, but I could see the minute smile she always got when
we ate.
Thank you, I said when Id forced myself to swallow and take a deep breath. She
nodded and squeezed my arm.
Im sorry it isnt more.
Her browned baby-soft cheeks bunched up as she offered me a big, dimpled grin. I
raised an eyebrow, not sure what she had to be so happy about, but then she pulled a baby
blue garment out of her bag that looked so clean and new I almost pinched myself.
Whats that? I asked cautiously, eyeing the thing.
A shirt. Elles eyes wobbled with silent laughter at my reaction.
A fancy shirt.
She shook her head at me and pressed the thing into my hands. I let the silky fabric
settle in my palms.
Why are you giving it to me? I asked. By doing so I was breaking our three-year
standing rule. She was allowed to bring whatever she could, and I was not allowed to turn it
down. I wasnt even allowed to question it.
The bell shrilled over us and Rusty rubbed his stomach and leaned his head against the
wall, eyes closed.
Go put it on, Elle urged me. That wasnt an answer.
I stared at her long and hard, studying her face like I do my moms. There were no telltale
wrinkles or a clenched jaw. So I did what I do every day. I squeezed her hand and took the shirt
as my own.
The late bell had rung by the time I got to the bathroom. Assuming no one would come
into the third floor bathroom during the beginning of first period, I pulled the coffee-stain shirt
over my head and averted my eyes from the mirror. The hollow feeling sometimes made my ribs
stick out more.
The satiny fabric of the blue shirt brushed lightly against my torso, making me shiver with
a feeling I sort of liked. The puffy sleeves came in and bunched up around my wrists, making
the rest of the arm billow out. The buttons ended just below my collarbone, and the collar was
flipped down.

Slowly lifting my arms, I spun in a circle, making the gossamer top ripple. I smiled; I
couldnt help it, and kept spinning faster and faster. The bathroom went flying with me, the stalls
swooped up and down and my vision got blurry and I was laughing to myself, and it almost felt
like there was wind twisting and turning through my hair.
But then my stomach seized and I had to grab the wall to steady myself. I caught my
breath and straightened up. When I looked in the mirror again, the shirt was still there, but it
hung loosely on my thin frame and looked out of place against my pale skin.
I knew I couldnt go home wearing this. My mom would demand where I got it from, pull
me in for a hug, and tell me I had to give it back. Shed say it costs too much to accept as a gift
if we cant give anything in return.
Do you think money grows on trees?
Hey, I love your shirt, Cassie Johnson said as I slipped into my seat next to her in
Psychology. I blinked, surprised, but then gave her a nod and a small smile. There was a warm
feeling all of a sudden, when she complimented me, mixed in with the hollow one. I liked it.
Three oclock came around at the speed of molasses. I changed out of the shirt before
going to meet Rusty on the soccer field where he played with his friends after school. I had one
more period than him, so he had forty-five minutes of free time to do whatever he pleased.
I wrapped my hair up into a bun as I circled around the edge of the building and slipped
out of my Converse. I tied the laces to the buckle of my backpack and let them hit me on the
back of my thighs when I walked.
Rusty! I called, spotting his bright hair easily in the throng of boys kicking the ball
around. He looked up when he heard his name and gave me a thumbs up.
And then a boy on the other team ran into the back of him. He stumbled forward. He
didnt have time to put his hands out. He didnt have time to react. His head hit the concrete
path that follows the edge of the field with a sound that made my fingers go numb.
Thump.
Russell! His full name slipped out of my mouth in a panic. I was by his side in seconds,
pulling him into my lap, my heart beating something crazy.
Im fine, he groaned, pressing a hand into his temple. I think.
I sighed quietly and found his hand with mine. His hair was matted with a littIe blood, but
nothing a washcloth and some gauze couldnt fix. I dont know what Id do if hed been knocked
out.
You probably have a concussion.
He nodded meekly. Probably.

Ill convince mom to get you to a doctor.

He waved me away at that and wriggled out of my grip. Ill lay low for a few days. Thats
all it takes to heal a minor concussion.
I bit my lip so hard I almost drew blood. We didnt know if it was minor, and we shouldnt
assume that, but he was probably right. It would heal if he took it easy and stayed home for a
week or so.
I helped him up and we walked two miles home, where I settled him down in his bed with
a plastic bag of ice and the window open.
I checked on him a few times through the evening, but it wasnt until nine oclock that I
went into his room to give him half an apple I found on the counter. I nudged his arm and pulled
his covers off, but he didnt move.
Mom was at the Crab Shack, working the night shift. Elle wasnt answering the phone.
Rusty wasnt waking up.
I shook him, I yelled his name, I even got the Dora cup and poured a glass of water on
his head. Nothing.
I remembered something Elles mom had said to me when she was giving me a ride
home after her shift at the hospital. Head injuries can be worse than they appear.
Mom was still working the night shift. Elle still wasnt answering the phone. Rusty still
wasnt moving.
With silent tears streaming down my face, I grabbed the home phone and dialed the
Crab Shack.
I checked to make sure Rusty was still breathing.
Mom! Oh my God. Rusty got hit in the head at school today, I thought it was just a
concussion, but he wont wake up. He needs to go to the hospital; he needs to- I blubbered. It
was too incoherent for her to properly hear me, but she cut me off anyway.
No!
I stopped mid-sentence, shocked by her tone. It was scared, but not for Rusty. I could
almost see the lines in my moms face getting deeper.
Quinn Farber, you cannot take him to the hospital.
Mom, he has to go! Hes unconscious! What if theres a brain bleed or something? She
couldnt be serious. I knew we didnt have the money for a hospital, but that didnt matter right
then. What mattered was that Rusty was okay.
You will not take him to that hospital. Stay right there, Im coming home. Just wait,
Quinn. Well take care of him. Stay put, do you understand? my mom said, her voice worried

but threatening. I was shaking now, my whole body rattling. I felt like I could hear every
individual bone. I trusted her, she was my mom, but this didnt make any sense to me. There
wasnt enough time.
I put my hand under Rustys nose again.
I didnt respond to my mothers question. I just dropped the phone and stood up.
Come on, Rusty, I murmured, staring at his thin freckled face so at ease in sleep.
What do I do?
What do I do?
What do I do?
He could have been out for hours. Every time I checked on him, it seemed like he was
just sleeping. I thought nothing of it. What if he was dying? The hospital was the only thing I
could think of, the only thing that could help him.
Mom wouldnt be home for twenty minutes, at least, and even then I dont know what
she could do for him. Elle wasnt answering the phone. I couldnt drive. Rusty wasnt waking up.
My last chance was Grandma. I hadnt spoken to her since I was five years old, and
neither had my mother. There was a cold air that fell over the house whenever mom brought her
up, which wasnt often.
I quickly stroked back Rustys hair, dashed into the hall and paused in front of the door to
moms bedroom. Id been in there before, but not much. She said it was her only private space. I
wrenched it open anyway, and didnt have to scan the space for long before I narrowed in on the
little drawer next to her bed. Id seen her take her address book out of there before, when I was
supposed to be upstairs asleep.
Everything from receipts to old lollipop wrappers were stuffed inside the cramped space.
Everything but that address book. I reached as deep in as I could and always came up with junk
that couldnt help me. But I couldnt think of any other place Grandmas number would be.
Ten minutes passed and with each one I knew there was less chance Rusty would be
okay. Id heard of brain bleeds before, and I wasnt stupid. I knew hitting your head as hard as
he did could easily cause them, but I was choosing to believe that he would wake up and smile
and crack a joke about enchiladas.
When I was sure Id searched the whole damn drawer twice over, my fingers curled
around an envelope. It was creased and stained, but it was from Vanguard Mutual Fund,
addressed to Charlotte Farber.

My stomach got this weird queasy feeling it does sometimes and even though I shouldnt
have been worried about letters from mutual funds, I ripped it open, because what if we were
losing our house or something?

$246,281.33
I blinked twice, three times, four. My eyes frantically scanned the page, trying to make
sense of the number I was seeing.
Account: Charlotte Farber.
Balance: $246,281.33.
And as I looked at the drawer, I saw more and more envelopes, all from Vanguard and
Parnassus. I ripped them open one by one, and let my head fill with the numbers written on
each page.
$187,942.05
$302,242.64
$115,124.72
Tucked into the last one was a small square of paper with neat cursive carefully written on it. I
picked it up, shaking my head in shock and confusion, and read the letter.
Charlotte,
I checked your Vanguard account for your share of your fathers will today. You
havent taken out a penny. Please, honey, think about using it for your family. You
all need it. I wont bother you again, as I dont think youll listen. But please,
Charlotte, consider it. The money is there, and I have a few numbers for therapists
who specialize in Chrometophobia, if youd like to speak to someone. They can
really help you fight your fear, you know.
With love,
Your mother, Marie
The cold swept in on me like the middle of February.
I stumbled back into Rustys room and grabbed the phone and called 911. I was getting
my brother to a hospital, and that was that. The cold followed me when I climbed in the back of
the ambulance with him, and right up into the ER. It was the cold I felt for her, for my mom. I
dont know what fear Grandma was talking about in her letter, or why my mom wasnt spending
money her dad had left her.
Whatever was going on, we could pay for this hospital visit.

I sat next to him for hours, stroking back his tawny locks and whispering reassurances in
his ear, although I think those were more for me than him. As it got later into the night, I closed
my heavy eyes and just listened to the beep of the heart monitor.
Beep.

Beep.

Beep.
Beep.

Beep.

When my mom walked in, the cold had taken over everything, even the hollow feeling.
My gut clenched with a new hatred I didnt know I had in me.
Quinn Adeline Farber. Why would you bring him here? Do you know that this could end
us?
Do you think money grows on trees?
I stood up, my knees popping, and pulled the Vanguard envelope out of my pocket. I did
not speak as I held it up in front of me so she could clearly see it. I let her soak in the numbers,
too, and turn to me as if she had an explanation. Her hands trembled, her skin visibly whitened,
her eyes grew wide with a sort of sick fear, like she was seeing the root of all evil.
What is this? I asked, my voice low. I was afraid if I raised my voice too much, Id lose
it.
Its- she made a grab for it, but my grip was iron-tight. Its locked away. We cant use
it.
My hands shaking something terrible, I fished Grandmas letter out of pocket. Yes, we
can. So why arent we?
She was breathing so hard and so fast; I thought she might pass out.
If we spend it, well be broke! We wont be able to afford anything, itll come back to bite
us. Your Grandpa, he shouldnt have left it to me. Ill mismanage it. I cant spend it. I cant. Dont
you see-
No! I dont! I dont see! Tears started running down my face. It was her fault that we
were there, her fault that the hollow feeling greeted us for so many years. I did not trust her,
even if she was my mother. Im leaving, as soon as he gets out of here.
Her eyes went wide. She took a step closer to me. The cold exploded around me. I
wanted to lunge at her and shake some sense into her and make her realize what shes let
happen.
You cant leave.

Im taking Rusty. Well find Grandma. I dont know. But we are not living with you
anymore.
She wasnt trying her hardest; she wasnt working to feed her children. She was only
worried about herself.
You cant leave, Quinn! she cried, clutching the doorframe.
Yes I can! And I will! I trusted you. Sixteen years I lived with her, and all the while she
let us starve and freeze and walk forty minutes to school. Sixteen years. You arent going to
change, I continued. Not after this long. You can just go live in poverty yourself.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
We both whirled around and stared in numb horror at the heart monitor. Doctors rushed
in around us, people were yelling and grabbing for supplies and telling us to move out.
I wanted to scream.
But I didnt scream.
I just listened to the continuous sound of the heart monitor, until they turned it off and
took Rusty away and left me on my own.