Sonya Sones
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Sonya Sones What My Mother Doesn't Know To Be Perfectly Honest Facebook Sonya Sones Twitter Sonya Sones Sonya Sones Pinterest Instagram Sonya Sones Tumblr page
Some Poems from One of Those Hideous Books Where the Mother Dies
They Tell Me There Was an Accident
Though I can’t
remember it happening.
Here’s what I do remember:
I remember climbing into a limo
with my little brother Will to visit our mom
on the set of her latest film.
It smelled
like someone had been
smoking pot in there.
Or maybe drinking champagne.
Or throwing up.
Or all three.
Sort of like
our living room
after one of Mom’s all-night parties.
I remember
rolling down the window
for some breathable air
while Will bounced around,
like he always does
when we’re in a limo,
telling me
one goofy knock-knock joke
after another.
I remember turning onto Sunset Boulevard,
and seeing a massive billboard
of a guy wearing nothing but jeans—
his fly unzipped
just low enough
to make me look twice.
Will saw it too.
He grinned at me and lisped through the gap
where his baby teeth used to be, “Thex thells!”
Sex sells?
How does a seven-year-old even know that?
I was just about to ask him—
but I never got the chance.
Because That's When the Cop Car Appeared
It came out of nowhere
and latched onto our tail
like a rabid dog.
I glanced into the rearview mirror—
our driver’s eyes looked like they were
getting ready to pop right out of their sockets.
He started swearing
in a language I've never heard before,
then flung a package out the window.

I began shouting at him,
telling him he better pull over
and let us out right now!

But the guy just
whipped out a gun,
waved it wildly in our direction,
then turned back around
and slammed his foot down hard
on the gas.
We were in
one of those high-speed chases
like you see on TV—
zooming down one-way streets the wrong way,
careening around corners,
running red lights.
Then there were two police cars chasing us.
Then there were three.
Then four.
Will was squeezing my hand so hard it hurt.
But he was laughing and whooping and hollering
like we were riding a roller coaster.
I was squeezing his hand too,
my heart kickboxing
against my ribs.
Then I heard a rumbling above us.
I stuck my head out the window and saw
a helicopter with a cameraman hanging out of it.
I pulled my iPhone out of my purse
and a second later my brother and I were watching
our own personal drama unfold on CNN.
Will sucked in a breath.
“Colette…,” he said, in this real awestruck
voice. “We’re on…TV!
It Was So Surreal It Wasn't Even Funny
We looked up at the sky
and watched the guy
filming us,

then we looked down at my phone
and saw the footage
he was shooting.

For a few minutes,
we got so into
watching the chase,
that we almost forgot
we were the ones
being chased.
But then the camera pulled back
and Will and I could see
that there were six cop cars tailing us now,
like we were all
in some crazy motorcade
rushing to get to a funeral on time.
I hoped it wouldn’t be ours…
Copyright 2004-. Sonya Sones. All rights reserved.