![]() ![]() He kneels down to help me, but adds in a mumble, “We have two canteens of water already.”Īnd that’s a perfect example of how my brother thinks. His sullen, dark eyes narrow at me, and I thrust the canteen into his hands. That sounds refreshing, let’s drink it.’” ![]() I just thought, ‘Oh, look-water from a toilet. I stop mid-scoop and stare up at him, holding back the pink padded toilet seat with my elbow. “C’mon, John,” he says, the whine in his voice setting my teeth on edge, “do we really need this?” He doesn’t do most of the things he says he’s going to do lately, like run away, or kill himself, or kill me. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says, which is something Stew says all the time, but does he ever actually throw up? No. Yet here I am, kneeling before a porcelain throne, holding a tin mug for scooping in one hand and my half-gallon canteen in the other.īehind me, my brother, Stewart, is making gagging noises. I thought I’d sooner die than let one drop of toilet water touch my lips. DAD ALWAYS SAID if things get desperate, it’s okay to drink the water in the toilet bowl. ![]()
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