Meemaw said, “When we get home, I want you to take your meds and then put them where you won’t lose ‘em. You got that? Don’t you worry none about Papaw. I made ‘im promise not to say nothin’ to you.”

"What the hell you tell ‘im for? He gonna say I’m a pansy for taking meds.”

“Papaw don’t know everything. He sure like to think he do, but he don’t. Ain’t nobody out there who know ev’rything. Beside, it don’t matter what he think. He ain’t the one who gotta live in your head.”

Michael hid the small white paper bag from the pharmacy in the pouch of his sweater. He unlocked the front door, gave it a good smack, and pushed it open. Papaw gave him a glance up and down, and he felt the scrutiny radiating off of him from across the trailer. He grabbed a glass of water and went to his room, took his pills, and stored them in his sock drawer. He reluctantly dragged his backpack over to the kitchen table and set out his textbook, notebook, and a pen. He took his seat and opened the textbook to the very first chapter.

He forced himself to read the first few paragraphs and jot down the important definitions in his notebook. He moved onto the sample problems when he was overcome with the urge to crack his back. He twisted around in his chair until the vertebrae popped and he caught the Polka dot pattern of spilled sunlight on the carpet from the holes in the curtains. He remained fixated on the plain spots of light before realizing what he was doing. Defeated, he turned around and dropped his head into the crevasse of the book.

Awhile later, he felt the strange sensation of heat rising to his head. He straightened up and found where he had abandoned his efforts. He took the pencil in his hand and began working out the problems. He didn’t notice when Papaw began snoring, and wasn’t bothered by the smell of his smoking. Meemaw walked back and forth through the kitchen, transporting baskets of clean and dirty laundry around the trailer. She coughed up a lung, Papaw peed with the door open, and a light started flickering, but all Michael wanted to do was focus on the material in the textbook. For once, none of these unimportant things could steal Michael’s attention.

Hours later, his pencil hovered across the last step in the final problem at the end of the chapter when it suddenly froze. Michael sat perfectly still and tried to draw out the moment and buy time to identify his mixed emotions. He was hopeful the medication would give him the chance to change his trajectory in life, but the countless failures and low points he endured to get here could have been avoided if only he had done this sooner.

After his bittersweet realization, he leaned back in his chair and looked over the notes he took and compared them to the text. Up until now, half the words of everything he tried to read would blur into a hazy jumbled mess as he’d always lose his concentration. Now the words were clear and he couldn’t be interrupted. He briefly experienced the world for what it was, and all the things he wanted to see before were finally coming into focus.