by Ana Gibson
“Would you hush your mouth while I talk to your sister?”
“Fine. Fine.” Trish puts all of her muscle into stirring up the goo of sweet potatoes and keeps eyeing me. So much of her keeping a secret, but at least part of it is out there now.
“Listen, Faith, Mommy knows that things aren't going to always be good between you two. I know you guys might be in a rough patch, but I promise it will pass and you're going to be able to look back at this and see that you got through it.”
And she's so confident in this fact. Nevertheless, I just smile and smooth down my baby hairs, waiting for her to get real for once. If only she really knew who Clayton is, maybe she'd rethink this whole thing. Just maybe.
CHAPTER 10
FAITH
Day before Christmas break
Six in the morning. I’m earlier than usual. The darkness mixes with the sun's brightness leaving the sky a deep and ominous blue. The parking lot is barely empty. Just me and another faculty member here. I'm ready to get this break started. I park, grab my things from the back and quickly hurry my way into the building. On my way through the halls, a clunky sound startles me, coming over from the Janitors closet. Strange, cause’ Mr. Wilson usually would have the door open if he's in there.
Muffled whispers stop me right in my tracks. I inch my way over and press my ear against the door.
“Daddy, is it time to go yet? I'm cold,” A little girl says.
I must be mistaking. I slip my belongings under my other arm and tap lightly on the closet door.
“Hello? Who's in there?”
All becomes quiet suddenly. I knock again. “Who's in here?”
“Nobody,” the little girl answers. I know that voice.
“Logan is that you?” And then a shushed whisper comes from the person with her.
“Whoever you are, you're not supposed to be in here. Please come from out of the closet right now, or I will have to call the police.”
“Daddy, she's going to call the police. I don't want to get in trouble.”
“Okay, okay, no. No need to do that. Please, don't call them.”
I stand away from the door, strongly believing that it is who I think it is. As the knob turns, I wait anxious, heart thumping with every breath I take. She peeps out of the door.
“Logan?” I walk in closer to her. “What are you doing in there?”
Right after, her father steps out, holding on to her hand and bags in the other.
“Devin, what is this? Why were you guys in the broom closet?”
I take Logan away from his grip.
“Ms. Faith, look, it's really not what you think it is. I…We…”
“I'm going to have to call the police. What were you doing in there with her? Was he touching you?”
She shakes her head no, though parts of me don't want to believe her.
“Ms. Faith, how could you say something like that? I would never touch my daughter in that way. What kind of man do you think I am?” He takes Logan by her other hand and snatches her away from me.
“I'm calling the police. You stay here. Logan, you're coming with me.” I take her back again.
“No Ms. Faith, we didn't mean to be in the closet.”
“Give me my daughter. You're not taking her from me,” he shouts, coming after me. I begin pulling her with me as her little hands start peeling back my fingertips.
“Ms. Faith, if you would just listen to me. I was not doing anything with her, I swear. We were sleeping. We…we stayed the night.”
My pacing slows down a little.
“Please don't call the police.” His tone drops in surrender. There's a crack in his voice, tired and weary, like tears willing to hand him over. He steps behind me and stops, and I finally turn around to him. There's desperation in his face.
“We're homeless.”
My stomach falls into its pit. Regret instantly slaps me hard in the face. My grip on Logan's hand loosens, and she breaks free, running over to her dad. She reaches him and grabs ahold of his waist. I don't even know what to say.
“Homeless?”
He finally looks at me and nods while wiping his face from tears.
“Why didn't you just say that in the beginning?”
Visibly shaking, he answers, “I tried.”
We stand apart, both eyeing one another. I still can't get past the homeless part. How?
Far down the hallway, more footsteps make me aware that I have to do something and do something quick before we all get caught.
“Come with me.”
Quickly, we shuffle down the hallway and into my classroom and lock the door behind us. I strip away two large pieces of construction paper and tape them against the window of my door. I step back and take a moment, gathering my thoughts before turning to them. The awkward silence consumes the room briefly before Logan speaks up.
“Ms. Faith, am I in trouble?”
“No sweetie. I promise you're not in trouble.”
She looks over to her father who appears nervous and afraid.
“You're not going to call the police?” She asks.
“No. No one is.”
“Then why'd you say that?”
She stands close to me, looking up wondering.
“I made a mistake. Ms. Faith made a mistake about something, and she's very sorry, and it won't happen again.”
“You promise?”
“Promise.”
She smiles back and gives me a hug, but my smile quietly fades once connecting eyes with her dad. He tells Logan to go and color while he wants to talk to me, alone.
“Ms. Faith, I—“
“Faith. Call me Faith.”
He nods and continues on. “Faith, look, I'm sorry about all of this confusion. I just…I needed somewhere to stay, and the only place I could think of was here. The shelter was all booked up. We don't have any family around. I needed somewhere warm for her. I can't let her sleep on the street.”
“Devin,” I interrupt. “How? When did this happen?”
I hope it doesn't sound like I'm judging him because I'm not. I just really want to know because Logan has barely ever missed a day of school and she looks fine. She seems happy still. She looks so well taken care of.
“Two years.”
What? There's no way they've been like this for two years.
“Two years? Where is her mother?”
“Back at the motel,” Logan jumps in, head still facing down as she colors. We both look her way.
“Her mom took to drugs.” He looks at her first, but then brings his face back towards me, lowering his voice.
“I don't know what else to do. I'm scared if somebody finds out, they'll take her from me.”
I get it. I feel for him too. That fear in his eyes is all too real.
“I understand.”
“I mean, I'm trying to make our life as normal as possible, but things are just falling apart. I'm lost. I have no clue what to do or where to go.”
Wow. And here I am complaining about the things that I could be changing. Here I am creating a mess for myself when it doesn't have to be and here's a guy who has a mess with no control over it. I've got a home, a car, food, clothes, and family and he's just looking for a place to lay his head at night and keep them both safe.
“I just want the best for her. I make sure to bring her here every day so she can eat. I don't have any money. I lost my job. Through all of that, I'm just trying to hold it together for her. That's it. Last thing I need is for her to be taken away.”
“You have no one to turn to?”
He shakes his head. “My Mom died years ago. Not even sure if my father is still alive. I don't know any of my other family. As for her mother's people, they couldn't care less.”
“Don't they know they have a granddaughter out here?”
“Yeah, they know.”
That's heartbreaking. Utterly heartbreaking. I've got to do something about this. I wait a few minutes. It's still early. I bet they're
hungry. They've got to be hungry.
“Have you guys eaten?”
He looks at me confused and says, “Yeah, but—“
Say no more.
“Come with me.”
CHAPTER 11
DEVIN
This, I did not expect. I just knew we’d be sitting here until the police came, but instead, she rushes back into the classroom, gesturing for us to follow her. I take Logan close up under me, cause’ I still have no clue what she's about to do.
We get outside and just as much as she's trying to hide us, the more visible it seems we are. One of the teachers stops her and asks where she's headed in such a rush. Wants to know who we are. Faith locks her arm into mine, dragging both me and Logan faster. I got it. Knees to chest.
Finally, in the clear, we make it to her car—A White Toyota Camry. I help Logan into the back while I take my seat up front. She turns the engine on and reaches for the radio, scanning through it while the heat blasts through the vents and begins looking forward as in deep thought. Her fingers gently drum at the steering wheel as she peeks at the side view mirror like someone is after her.
“Are you okay?” I ask. She quickly takes to my question, smiling.
“Me? Yeah, I'm fine. Just waiting for this thing to warm up some more.”
She looks like she's nervous as hell. I mean I know this kind of thing ain't the norm, but she don't need to be nervous. If anything, it should be me. Soon, she puts the car into gear and head out of the parking lot, quiet for the duration of the ride. The uncalculated stopping and going flow of the busy, rush hour traffic makes her sigh in frustration over and over again. And she still has yet to stop at any restaurant to get us some breakfast.
We end up way across town in a neighborhood I've heard about from time to time but never needed a reason to see what the hype was about. Tantallion—a quaint community with wide streets neatly kept by homeowners who take pride in their asset. The kinds built twenty or thirty years ago but still hold great value in today's market and none of them lack curb appeal or lot size.
I want me one of these.
She makes two lefts and a right and pull up in her driveway and says, “We're here.” I just want to know how a teacher can afford this large brick, two-story colonial with white pillars and double black doors, a garage fit for two cars and have access to a golf course on her salary? Damn. This shit's nice.
I catch her looking at me from my peripheral. I don't know if I want to look back. Just seems weird.
“I hope you guys like it,” she says, unlocking the door and scoots to the side to let us in. Warm, taupe and cream on the walls starting from the foyer on up the stairs in front of me. Hardwood floors covering every inch and space, a wide, welcoming family room just off the state of the art kitchen up ahead. Money has definitely been put back into this house over time. Older house on the outside but inside no one would ever guess.
“You live here alone?”
“Uh. Actually no. I have a fiancé.”
Fiancé? And she's bringing another man up in here? What kind of swingers-anonymous shit is this? I need to know if I need to make a break for it.
“Oh, that's cool I guess. What a lucky man he is.”
She looks down quickly like what I said holds no weight.
“Here, let me take your coats.”
I wiggle out of mine and remove my hat and gloves. Logan follows suit and continues to stand under me. A small bark comes from upstairs and makes way down to us.
“Hey Blanket. Hey girl.” A little brown and black Yorkie jumps around Faith and then to Logan for extra tickles. Logan picks it up.
“Be careful. She can be a little rough sometimes,” Faith says. Then she looks at me.
“So back to the real subject. We gotta get you guys cleaned up. Let me show you around.”
“Show us around?”
Her eyes glitter with warmth as both Logan and I follow her with little Toto in tow. Everything in here looks too expensive to touch. Even if it's not, still, it is for me.
“Here is the guest bathroom. Right across the hall is the bedroom.” I raise my hand like a student.
“Yeah?”
“I mean I get the bathroom part, but why are you showing us the bedroom?”
She giggles. “You need somewhere to stay, don't you?”
Well, she's got me there. I shut my mouth trying to suppress the look of confusion rising on my face. She claps her hands together once and continues to show us the rest of the house.
“Here is the linen closet. Here are your towels and washcloths. I'll get you some clothes out of my fiancé's Goodwill stash. Trust me, he's barely worn them. I hope you can fit them.” Her voice slightly muffled as she walks away into her room. I'm left in the hallway dumbfounded. I continue to look back at the guestroom and then back to where she has disappeared.
“Logan, I have some clothes for you that my niece left over here. You can wear them for today. We'll go to the store later to get you some more, how does that sound?” She yells from her bedroom closet. I don't think Logan hears a word. She's so into the dog.
She comes back out, each arm draped with clothing for both Logan and I. It's like she had been planning this very moment all her life.
“Here you go, and here you go,” she says, handing me both outfits.
“I'm going to go ahead and start on breakfast. I'll see you guys downstairs in a little bit?” I merely nod, and she heads downstairs.
“I told you she was really nice,” Logan says as she still fiddles around with Blanket.
“Okay. That's enough. You gotta get ready so we can go back with Ms. Faith to school.”
She finally lets the dog go and head into the bathroom. I grab our towels and washcloths and go in with her.
“Daddy, are we staying here tonight?”
Part of me wants to say no out of pride, but the look of contentment on my little girl's face makes me tell the truth.
“Yeah baby, we're staying tonight.”
She jumps up and down excited and wraps her arms around my neck.
“Now let's hurry up and get you cleaned. Breakfast will be waiting for us.”
“Good, cause I'm really hungry.”
“Hope I didn't keep you guys waiting too long,” I say.
“Oh no, we were just getting started actually.”
I nod and walk over to the table to grab a seat. Damn, this food lookin' good. Don't know the last time I had a huge breakfast like this.
She starts fixing Logan's plate, and I reach for the eggs.
“Devin?”
I stop mid-reach and look her way.
“I got it.”
“No, it's ok. I can get it,” I say.
“No really. I got it. Just sit back.”
She places Logan's plate in front of her while still looking at me like she's somebody's mama. It's cute, for real. I politely put my hands up in surrender as she then takes my plate and loads it with everything she's made. Last comes the orange juice and she sets it before me.
“Let us pray!” She reaches for both our hands and lead us into prayer. I know it's disrespectful, but for the life of me, I can't close my eyes. All I can do is stare at this woman, wondering why at one point she was about to turn me in, to all of a sudden inviting me into her home. She fixed my plate and poured my orange juice. And she's praying. The girl is praying like everything is cool. I don't get it.
“Amen,” she closes and then looks back at me. “Amen,” I say pretending like I'm good. The clanking of utensils is about the only thing to a musical tune we get until Faith decides to spark up a new conversation.
“So Devin, are you originally from here?”
I finish chewing through my fork full of pancakes and answer.
“Born and raised. You?”
“Yep.”
I nod, surprised, somewhat. “That surprises me,” I say. She clears her mouth before speaking again. “Why?”
“Cause you so hospit
able.”
She nods, picks up a strip of bacon and giggles.
“I really don't do this often,” she says so matter of fact while tearing into it. “In fact, I really don't do this at all.”
Never would have guessed.
“Ms. Faith, where is your Christmas tree?” Logan joins in our conversation. Leave it to a child to notice something that's important to them is missing.
“Uhhh…well, I don't have one.”
“Why not?”
“Logan?” I interject.
“She's okay,” she says to me. “Well, I guess I never really had the time to get one.”
“Oh. Well, I think you should get one.”
“Maybe I will,” Faith tells her. And for a good thirty minutes or so, we remain this way. Enjoying this meal silently until our bellies are full and satisfied.
We all finish up our food before having to leave. Logan cleans her plate and drinks the rest of her juice. I'm not too far behind, and neither is Faith.
“Was it good?” She asks.
“That was delicious,” Logan says.
Faith gets up from the table, takes our plates to the sink. I get up right behind her to take over.
“What are you doing?”
“I wanna help.”
“I got it.”
I place my dish back on the table and back away. Never seen someone so excited about washing dishes before.
“Logan, go get your coat,” I say.
She does as told, somehow dragging the dog along with her. I stand near the table, looking for something else to say to Faith.
“Umm, I just want to say that I uh…thank you. For this.”
And with her back still facing me, she replies with a nonchalant ‘you're welcome’ like this gesture was nothing.
“Well, I guess I should be getting myself ready too then?”
“Where are you going?”
“Going back with you guys aren't I?”
She finishes up the last of the plates, sectioning them in their reserved slots of the rack and shakes her head no.
