Here's to You, Zeb Pike

by Johanna Parkhurst

  My dad swears he makes pretty good money, but that always seems sketchy to me. I have a good idea what he does for that money.

  It doesn’t help that I always feel like I’m getting ready to do battle when I go looking for Dad, which I sort of am. He always gets angry with me for letting Mom disappear, even though there’s never anything I can do about that. Then he goes off about how she must’ve left us with plenty of money; how could we have run out so quickly?

  He hasn’t lived with us in so long anyway that most of the time it’s easier just to pretend he doesn’t exist. He only comes by the apartment to see Matt and Julia once every couple of months. I swear that if I didn’t need the money, I’d have stopped going to see him years ago.

  I get to Circle okay, and I stand in front of his apartment complex for a second before I get up the nerve to go into the unlocked front door and up the stairs to the apartment. I stare at the bell as if I can will it to ring itself, but I quickly remember I don’t have time to goof around and press the white button.

  I can hear whooping and laughing, surrounded by loud music, coming through the door. Just Dad’s environment.

  The guy who answers the door is skinny and balding, about thirty, with really bad teeth. I recognize him as my Dad’s friend Seth, but he sure doesn’t recognize me. “Who the heck are you?” he practically snarls, lighting a cigarette as he speaks. I clear my throat to be heard over the music and try to stand up to my full five feet seven inches. It’s moments like these I wish I was taller; maybe that would make me look like someone this guy would listen to.

  “I’m looking for Luke. I’m his son.”

  Seth chokes on the some of the smoke drifting up around his face. “Luke’s got a kid?”

  Seth has met me a bunch of times, and Matt and Julia too, actually, but I decide not to bring that up just then. “Yeah. Three of us. You know where he is?”

  Seth is sucking his smoke and staring at me. I can tell he’s trying to decide whether to help me or slam the door in my face. I must look at least a little bit intimidating, or maybe he finally remembers me, because he shakes his head. “Luke moved out. Don’t live here anymore.”

  Some guy, who I remember as Charlie, comes out of the kitchen. “Luke’s living over Sunny’s Bar now.”

  Great. Getting to Sunny’s is going to take time—time Matt and Jules and I don’t have. “Thanks,” I mumble. I get out of there as quickly as I can, without even thinking about saying good-bye.

  I haven’t been to Sunny’s before, but at least I know where it is. Sunny’s is actually an old bar more toward the center of town, but the guy who owns it is another friend of my dad’s. Who knows what Dad is doing there? Probably the exact same thing he was doing at the Lakeview apartment.

  The bus trip to Sunny’s seems long. I spend the whole time checking my watch and calculating the number of minutes I’ve been away from the hospital. I think way too hard. Has Matt noticed I left yet? What does he think of my leaving? Is Jules out of surgery yet? Needless to say, it’s not a great ride.

  Sunny’s is one of the ugliest businesses I’ve ever seen. It looks like something out of a bad horror film, complete with peeling paint, a very brown lawn, and an old wooden sign missing half the letters that says SUN Y BAR and G IL. I wonder if the health department actually lets them serve food.

  The inside of the place is dark too, mostly because half the light bulbs in it are burnt out. The tables are smeared with grease, and the bottles behind the bar are so dirty I could build Julia a sandbox with the crud caked onto them. I stop at the bar and wonder why the bartender doesn’t look shocked to see a fourteen-year-old in front of him (and trust me, I don’t look big for my age).

  “Whatcha want, kid?”

  I lean on the bar, trying to look a little more mature or something. Somehow, I don’t think it’s working. “Is Luke Porter here?”

  That same look Seth gave me spreads across the bartender’s face. He’s trying to decide whether or not to help me.

  “Maybe. Who are you?”

  “His son.”

  He doesn’t say anything else. He just turns and leaves the bar, and I follow him down a dusty hallway and up some stairs to a scratched and worn door. “Luke, some kid’s here to see you. Says he belongs to you.”

  I force myself into the room. It’s a mess of old green rugs, with little lighting, furniture, or color. It smells like rotten eggs and dirty socks. A few men are sitting around the room smoking. It only takes a quick scan before I notice my dad lying across a patch of floor by a heating duct.

  It’s getting hard not to grimace whenever I see him. He looks just like Matt, with dark-brown hair and these really intense bright-green eyes, and he used to be incredibly built when I was younger. Not anymore. He gets skinnier every time I see him these days. His hair is patchier around the back, and his teeth are starting to turn brown.

  “Dusty!” He gets up quickly and comes over for a hug. “God I’ve missed you! What are you doing here?” They’re both weird sentences to hear from your father when he’s living in the same town as you, but I don’t bother softening up the edges.

  “Dad, Mom’s not around and Julia’s in the hospital. Her appendix burst.”

  He steps away from me. “Where did she go this time? Does she think she can just keep leaving you guys like that? Did you tell her to leave, Dusty?”

  I shake my head, not too surprised that he missed the part about his daughter being in the hospital. He’s not always all that sharp, my dad. “Dad, did you hear me? Julia’s in the hospital. I need you to come with me.”

  Dad runs his hands through his thinning hair and sinks back onto a stained couch. “Geez, Dusty. She’s in the hospital? Is it serious?”

  How can it take so long for someone to digest something? I suck in a deep breath. “Yes, Dad, it’s serious. The doctors want a parent there… you or Mom. They say Julia will be okay, but if you don’t come back with me, they’re going to start to wonder where you guys are.”

  I can see him mulling this over, and I take a second we don’t have to wonder how it’s possible I can look so little like this man. I don’t look anything like my mom, either.

  There’s actually this picture of my family that a friend of my mom’s took when Julia was just a baby. In it, Dad is standing behind Matt, and you can see how much they look alike—Matt has always had Dad’s dark hair and green eyes. Mom is holding baby Julia, who already is a mini version of her with blond hair and brown eyes. I’m standing between Mom and Dad, the odd man out with light-brown hair and blue eyes, in the exact center of the picture—I look so different from them it’s almost strange. I’ve never figured out who I’m supposed to look like.

  “I can’t come to the hospital with you, Dusty.”

  “What?” He says it so quietly I’m sure I must have heard him wrong.

  “I said… I can’t go with you. Not right now.”

  I’ve known since I left the hospital that this was a possibility. Isn’t that the reason I’ve felt so anxious all evening? My dad has never been a real dad before, so why would he start now?

  But to hear him say it, standing in front of me… to hear him sell us down the river without any real warning… to give us up without thinking about it for more than a second….

  I almost take a swing at him. I want to. I can feel my fists clenching at my sides. I’m pretty sure the only thing that stops me is the fact that we’re surrounded by guys who are a lot older and stronger than me. Maybe not, though. He is still my dad, and he’s always looked so huge to me—even now, broom-handle skinny guy that he’s become.

  “You gotta understand, Dusty. I have deliveries to make; stuff to do. I can’t just take off.” He shakes his head. “Kid, I work with some guys who won’t care why I left. They’ll just care that I left. I mean, I’ll come later, when I can. I just can’t right now.”

  I just stare at him, incredulous. “Dad, what do you think it’ll be like when I show up at the hospital with no pare
nts? You don’t think that will be bad? They’ll put us into foster care, Dad.”

  “Dusty!” He shakes his head. “Don’t be such a worrywart. It won’t be like that. I’ll be there eventually, or your mom will show up. She’ll be back before they even notice anything is wrong.”

  And then he actually smiles at me.

  He lives in a world all his own, that’s for sure. As I look around that world, covered in grime and stain, I can’t figure out why he likes this life so much better than the one with his kids.

  I spin away from him and head for the door.

  “Dusty—”

  He doesn’t get a chance to say anything else, though, because someone opens another door and start yelling, “Luke, you got packages ready in the other room.”

  I don’t wait around to hear any more excuses. I just slam the door behind me.

  I’m through Sunny’s and outside again before my anger gives way to panic. What am I going to do? I have to go back to the hospital, and I have nothing to show for this trip of mine. No Dad, no Mom.

  It’s finally happened. After all that hard work… our cover’s finally been blown.

  I catch the bus, barely aware of what’s going on around me. I think the bus driver asks me if I feel okay, but I don’t really hear him. All I hear is my dad, over and over again, saying, “I can’t go with you.”

  In my head I keep seeing that picture of the five of us. We’d all been at the park together. Mom had packed a picnic lunch, and she and her friend had sat on the grass with Julia while Dad and I played soccer and pretended to let Matt, who was really tiny then, play too. Mom’s friend had taken the picture after we’d all gone for a walk around the lake together.

  Too bad that’s the only picture we have like that. That day was a total anomaly. My dad’s never been the responsible-dad type. Even before he lost his job at the power plant and he and Mom broke up for good, he always drank too much and gambled all the time. Not exactly a shining role model.

  I make a quick stop at home, just to see if my mother had a brain aneurysm that caused her to remember she has three kids and return home. No dice. The place is dark.

  I go back to the hospital and stare at the entrance for a while before I can will myself to go in.

  Nothing much has changed in the waiting room. Barbara is reading a book, Race is playing his Game Boy, and Matt is asleep on a couch. He looks so peaceful, so happy. I feel like I’m dealing him and Jules the biggest blow of their lives as I walk up to Barbara.

  “Dusty!” She says it with immense, obvious relief. “You’re back. Where’s your mom?”

  I didn’t even hesitate this time. After all, what’s left to do? Mom isn’t going to reappear at any minute—she usually takes off for weeks at a time, and she’s only been gone for a week and a half now—and my dad has made it perfectly clear where he stands.

  The snow has been getting deeper and deeper, and it’s now pretty clear I’m not going to make it up this mountain.

  “Barbara? I need to talk to you.”

  JULIA IS in surgery for another hour. Matt spends the time sleeping and periodically waking up to watch cartoons again. Barbara gets some information from me about where Dad is, and I know she goes to talk to somebody about it, but we don’t say much more about what’s going to happen to us next. I don’t really want to talk about it, so I don’t ask. Race tries to do his homework and tries to get me to do mine too, but I can’t concentrate on anything. When I tell him three plus five equals seven, he finally hands his Game Boy to me. “Oh, just play that,” he says. “You’re useless.”

  I can’t do anything with that, either. All I can do is think. Where are we going to end up? Will they keep Julia and Matt together and make me disappear? Will that be my punishment for lying to everyone for so long? Finally I fall asleep across three cold, hard metal chairs. It is the worst place to take a nap, but I sleep like Matt after he’s come off a Mountain Dew high until someone starts shaking my shoulder roughly. “Dusty, wake up.” I hear Race call from what feels like a long way off. “Jules is out of surgery.”

  The room they have Jules in is small and cramped—Race says it’s a recovery room. She looks smaller than I’ve ever seen her, her dirty-blond hair framing a face that is still really pale. At least she’s sleeping. I pull a chair up next to her bed, and Matt quickly hops into my lap. We sit there for a moment, staring at her, with Race shadowing the doorway. Matt buries his head a little way into my shoulder. “She’s going to be okay now, right Dusty?”

  I can’t answer that, so I don’t.

  Chapter 2

  FIVE YEARS Earlier

  “Mom, I need you to sign this.”

  Dusty thrust the permission slip for the trip to the zoo in his mother’s face. She was staring out the window at the mountains behind the apartment. “Not now, Dusty. I’ve had rough day.”

  Not again, thought Dusty. Just yesterday she’d been in a good enough mood to make cookies for Matt’s preschool’s holiday party and sing Julia to sleep. Dusty had known it couldn’t last too long, but he’d been hoping it might last at least until after Christmas.

  Matt came out of the bedroom in fire truck mode. “Woo-ooh, woo-ooh, woo-oh!” he shrieked as he raced around the room.

  “Matthew!” Their mother whirled around. “Can you please shut up? I have a headache!”

  Matt ran immediately to the big, strong, older brother who always gave him chocolate when Mom yelled. Sure enough, Dusty immediately led him toward the kitchen.

  “Why is she mad again, Dusty?” Matt whimpered. “She wasn’t mad yesterday.”

  Dusty wondered if maybe his mother talked to his dad. Ever since his dad stopped living with them all the time, she seemed worse whenever she talked to him. “Don’t worry, Matt. We’ll just leave her alone for awhile until her headache goes away.”

  From their bedroom, Dusty could hear the sounds of gurgling and spitting. Julia must have woken up, which meant she’d be hungry soon. He hoped his mom had at least remembered to buy baby food.

  He sighed as he realized he’d have to feed Julia, probably. Whenever Mom got into moods like this she usually forgot Julia, leaving the baby in her crib for hours sometimes. Dusty thought it was good thing that Mom planned to put the baby into daycare soon. They’d probably take better care of her.

  He opened the cabinet doors, looking for baby food before Julia could start crying for dinner. He hated it when Julia cried even more than he used to hate it when Matt cried.

  “IT’S GOING to take us a few days to look into all your options. Until then, we’re releasing you into Barbara’s custody.”

  The social worker has a soft voice, but it feels like her words are a fire poker coming toward my skin. Staying with Barbara is okay news—at least I’ll get a few more days with Matt and Jules—but it makes things very clear where my living situation is now concerned.

  “What about Dad?” I ask. “I know he’s not here right now, but he’s in town. I know where he is. I swear I do. Then you could talk to him yourself.” Maybe she can convince him it’s time to stop screwing around with his friends.

  The social worker, whose name is Ms. Davies, tries to put her hand on top of mine. I pull my hand away, and she blows some loose strands of hair off her forehead. She is young, maybe only twenty-five, with short black hair and dark eyes. Most guys my age would probably say she’s pretty good-looking, but she may as well have warts covering her face right then—she looks that ugly to me.

  “Dusty, what your dad did… leaving you alone like that for so long….” She hesitates. “Dusty, that’s a crime. It’s called child neglect. The police will be looking for him. When they find him, they will arrest him.”

  Ice runs through my body for a moment, and I can feel my hands forming fists. The room is turning black around the edges. “You can’t do that,” I manage to say. “We don’t care. We’re just fine. He always gives us money.” I turn to Barbara, looking desperately for a way out of this situation. “If I’d
known that would happen, I wouldn’t have told you anything.” I can hear my voice getting darker and sharper, until it doesn’t even sound like it belongs to me anymore.

  Barbara nods. “I know, Dusty,” she says quietly. I half-expect her to try to hug me, but she stays put.

  “So we stay with Barbara, then? For how long? Until you find my mom? Or is she going to get arrested too?” Ms. Davies doesn’t answer that; she doesn’t need to. I already know the answer. If Dad has neglected us, Mom certainly has too.

  “Dusty, you’ll stay with Barbara until I’m able to look into all the best options for you and your siblings. We’ll be checking with any relatives you have and looking into foster care.”

  Foster care. The ice in my body that had thawed when I learned we’d be staying with Barbara refreezes, and I can feel myself tense up again. We don’t have any close relatives that I know of. My parents don’t have any brothers or sisters, and all our grandparents are dead. “If we go into foster care, we’ll get split up, won’t we?”

  Ms. Davies starts to reach for my hand again, but she quickly stops. “We’ll do our best not to do that, Dusty. I promise I’ll try everything I can.”

  I’m not really in the habit of trusting adults, so that sentence doesn’t mean a whole lot to me.

  The doctor tells us that Julia’s going to be in the hospital for at least another day, and I want to stay with her, so Barbara ends up taking Matt home with her and Race that night so he can get some sleep. I curl up on a lounge chair one of the nurses brings in for me and wait for Julia to wake up. She looks so peaceful, sound asleep like that. I’m afraid of what I’ll say to her when she finally breaks back into consciousness.

  How am I going to tell her and Matt that I finally lost them? I start absent-mindedly putting those words together in my head, trying to find phrasings I can use. Guys, we’re going to be apart for awhile. We’ll still see each other all the time. Just thinking about it is giving me a pounding headache, and I’m starting to pace the room when I heard a teeny voice whisper. “Dusty?”