by Sara Alva
“He’s good at simple tasks,” Brandon informed me as I moved out of the way. “When he showed up three months ago, me and Dwayne’s chores got cut down by a third. If you stick around, we’ll have even less to do.”
“I ain’t staying.”
I really needed to say that as often as I could, because somewhere deep down I was starting to doubt it.
“I hope he ain’t.” Dwayne came in from the dining room to toss out a wad of paper towels. “Or he’s gonna scrub the shower every time he uses it.”
My cheeks burned, but hopefully my complexion covered it. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry…don’t usually have to take care of myself, ’cause I got plenty of girls at home…but they not exactly in supply out here, is they.”
Dwayne rolled his eyes and made a jerk-off motion with his hand.
“Fuck you,” I snapped in response, growing more pissed when Dwayne’s only reaction was to laugh.
“Watch that Ms. Loretta don’t hear you,” Brandon said, breezing out of the kitchen.
Obviously, coming down had been a mistake. I headed back for the temporary peace of the room and nearly collided with the soft white bulk of Suzie as she strode past, with Ms. Loretta directly behind her.
“Oh, Alex, good. I’m glad you’re up.”
Shit! She was back! And so soon…that had to mean she’d come to bring me home.
“Just a sec!” I darted past her and onto the stairs. “Let me get all my stuff! I’ll be ready to leave in like one minute!”
“Alex, why don’t we—”
I didn’t let her finish her sentence. Instead, I galloped up to the room and began violently tearing off the disgusting hand-me-downs. Then I put on my own clothes—right down to the dirty boxers and cheap flip-flops—and barreled back down the stairs.
“I’m ready. Let’s go!”
I came to a stop at the entrance to the living room, where Ms. Loretta and Suzie sat, mouths slightly open. Their sudden silence hung in the room, and their eyes slid back and forth warily.
Neither of them was smiling…and they both should’ve been happy to see me going home, right?
“Let’s go?” I repeated, but my voice had lost most of its earlier energy.
“Alex, come have a seat for a moment.” Suzie patted the orange cushion by her side. Ms. Loretta rose and shuffled off to the kitchen, declaring she needed to put on some water for tea.
“I’m ready to go,” I said again.
“I know you are.” Suzie had her super-soft I care about you voice on in full swing. “But I’m afraid that can’t happen just yet.”
“Why not? What now?”
“Well, neither Hector nor your mother has contacted us.”
I exhaled, instantly relieved. If they hadn’t talked to anyone yet, nothing final could be happening. Maybe Hector had won some money or something, and they were treating themselves to a few extra days in Vegas.
“All right.” I shrugged. “They’ll be back soon, though.”
Suzie’s hands twitched in her lap. She was wearing another gray suit, but this one had a skirt instead of pants. Her legs were crossed, and her pantyhose had a run—one tiny little hole, about an inch or so above her knee, with a long thin trail leading down to her calf and exposing her milk-white skin.
I wasn’t sure why I noticed all those details at the moment, unless it was because I was trying not to read the expression on her face.
“There’s something else, Alex. There’s evidence they’ve received some of our notices, and that someone has been by the house.”
“So then they are back!” I tried to stand, but Suzie’s hand on my knee stopped me.
“Neighbors told the police someone was home last night, and they put some personal belongings in a truck and left.”
“Personal belongings?”
“Suitcases, and some bags of clothes.”
Please, my heart thumped to the beat of my useless prayer. Please no.
“Could they be going on another trip? Staying with a friend, perhaps?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“Is there a reason they wouldn’t be willing to speak to us?”
“I don’t know.”
There was a reason they wouldn’t be willing to speak to the police, of course. A pretty good one—Hector was a criminal…and not even legal.
“Alex…”
“I don’t know! I don’t fucking know!” I pounded my fists on the couch cushion, heat rising in my face. “I just…I want to go home.”
Tears of shock were welling inside me, so I closed my eyes and kept my hands clenched at my sides, successfully fighting them off. I couldn’t let anyone see me that weak.
Suzie squeezed down on my knee. “For now, I think it’d be best to stay with Ms. Loretta. When we do get in contact with your mother, we’ll reevaluate things from there.”
“Stay here? Go to school here and everything?” My voice was a strained whisper.
“Ms. Loretta and Ms. Cecily are some of the best foster parents I know. You’re lucky they have the space right now…and it really can be a good experience, even if you go home next week.”
Lucky. I’d never felt so far from lucky in my life.
“If you have a key, we can escort you to your house later to pick up some of your personal belongings—clothes, or books…”
“Whatever.” I drew myself away from the pressure of Suzie’s hand. Too numb to fight, I resorted to the old trusty don’t-give-a-shit attitude. “Go ahead and screw up my life.” And under my breath, I muttered, “Fucking bitch,” just for good measure.
~*~
A sickly-thin gray street cat dashed across the road when we reached my neighborhood, just barely making it to the other side in one piece. I was pretty sure I’d seen that cat before.
In fact, I’d seen it all before. I’d seen the homeless man curled up in the green flannel blanket under the freeway bridge, one arm slung protectively over a plastic bag that contained all his worldly belongings. I’d seen those same wrinkled old señoras digging in the gas station trashcans and pulling out plastic bottles for the measly five-cent return rate. And I’d seen that ice-cream truck with the dent in its side, playing its obnoxious song over and over again as it rolled through the streets.
Everything was exactly as I’d left it.
Only I was different. I was the sell-out, being “escorted” to my own home by a cop and a social worker. God, I could only pray no one I knew would catch sight of me and set their tongue to chismes.
There goes Alex, hauled off by the police. And he thought he was so smart…
I pulled up the hood of the Army sweatshirt Ms. Cecily had loaned me, hoping it’d hide my face as we climbed the steps to the front porch. The house was the same, too, although it was strangely quiet. Without Hector’s drunken breathing or my mom’s telenovelas filling the air, it didn’t feel like my home. Even when I was there alone, I’d flick on the TV or put on some music to keep from getting too lost in my thoughts.
A fly buzzed by the kitchen and landed on an unopened can of refried beans. I took that as a good sign. After all, if they still had belongings there, they had to be coming back.
Which reminded me, I should’ve been looking for clues.
I headed down the hallway toward Hector’s room, only to be stopped by the cop’s arm on my shoulder. I threw him off but turned to see what the hell he wanted and realized it was the same jackass who’d grabbed me at school just a few days ago.
It seemed like ages since then, though.
“No wandering around the house,” he said.
“Alex, why don’t you show me your room?” Suzie walked around him and blocked my path down the hallway.
I peered over her shoulder, just barely making out the edge of my mom’s closet door. Were her nice clothes still in there? Then she’d definitely be back.
“You can only take your personal belongings.” Suzie shifted to cut off my view entirely.
“I just want to see if—”
“Alex.” She put her hand out slowly, palm facing me, and said my name like someone would say the word stop.
“Man, fuck you,” I grunted, then stomped back toward my room.
Suzie followed and stood by the door to watch. Thank God she didn’t try to say anything else to me. At the moment, the only thing that would have come out of my mouth would’ve been a stream of curses—and I had a feeling if I did do that, she’d just sigh and give me those pitying eyes, which would only make things worse.
With a swift jerk, I yanked at my top dresser drawer. It caught on the left edge, as usual, so I had to jiggle it to get at the t-shirts stored inside, folded neatly the way Mimi had taught me.
I pushed them out of the way and dug down until my hands closed around the carton of cigarettes and the lighter I’d stashed there. The box was half empty—I wasn’t really a heavy smoker, but I’d let Diego bum quite a few off me at the party.
Diego. What would cool, confident Diego do in a situation like this? Take orders from some gringa and two old black ladies? Probably not. He’d go to his other family, and they’d take care of him.
But me…even if I gave them my loyalty…they wouldn’t take care of me, if they knew.
Suzie had her back to me. She was scanning the hallway, most likely taking note of the grimy walls and warped flooring. Judging me and mine for what our home was like, looking down on us with her superior white-lady attitude. And actually, the place would have been even more of a wreck if Blanca and me hadn’t straightened up the morning after the party. Only a few bottle caps and a little bit of ash remained.
She pulled out a notebook to scribble something down, and I took the opportunity to tuck the lighter into the cigarette carton and then stuff the whole thing into the waistband of my boxers.
A small act of rebellion, but anything I could do to maintain my sanity seemed worth it.
Suzie walked in just as I’d added my final pair of shorts to the duffel bag. “We will keep trying to find them. You know I’d like nothing better than to see your family put back together.”
I didn’t even look at her as I slung the bag over my shoulder and left, slamming the door behind me.
~*~
The bare, sterile look of the room at Ms. Loretta’s suddenly made me furious when I returned. I took my bag and dumped all my belongings on the floor, then kicked them about, deliberately upsetting the tidiness.
I thought of throwing more of a fit as I crashed face-first into the bed, but that wasn’t really my style. It would’ve been a relief, though—to tear things apart, or pick up a chair and smash it to pieces. To scream at the top of my lungs, maybe throw a few punches—not that I’d ever hit a woman.
Brandon and Dwayne, on the other hand…if they came in right now and so much as looked at me the wrong way…
But it was Ms. Loretta who barged in first, her wide shadow looming over my head. “Sit up, Alex.”
I resisted until I swore I could feel her gaze burning a hole through my head.
“This is a list of responsibilities.” She handed me a piece of paper. “I expect our rules to be followed, and I expect general politeness. You’ll help out with the chores, you’ll do your homework, and you’ll go to school. Break the rules, and you’re out. I have young boys here and they can’t be having no bad influences.”
I drew my brows together and stared at her. Was she serious with this bullshit?
“You’ll set the table for dinner on Friday, and you’ll take a turn on dusting, sweeping, mopping and cutting the grass. You can figure out when with Brandon and Dwayne. Laundry days are Tuesday and Saturday. We use the laundromat down the street, and we all wash and fold or we don’t get no clean clothes.”
Air brushed against my tongue, and I realized my mouth had fallen open as she continued to bombard me.
“Twice a week you’ll help Andrew and Ryan with their homework. Ms. Cecily and me check it before it goes to school, so you’d best be doing a good job.”
The paper in my hand slipped from my fingers, and I watched it fall in gentle arcs to the floor. “Are you fucking kidding me? I could’ve just lost my mom, my home, my whole life…and you’re giving me a list of fucking chores? Don’t you even care?”
Ms. Loretta headed for the door. “Don’t I?” She glanced over her shoulder at the threshold to pin me with another ruthless stare. “Clean up this mess…and that best be the very last time I hear foul language coming out of your mouth.”
I geared up for an angry retort, but she whirled around one last time and leveled me with a look. I blinked twice, somehow strangled into silence. She nodded, then left.
I swore that woman was a fucking witch.
Brandon replaced her a little while later, strolling into the room with arms folded in smug victory. “Told you.”
His dimples were starting to get on my nerves, since they seemed to go hand in hand with that high-and-mighty smirk.
“Fuck off.”
“Hey, at least you get a few days off before you have to go to school. Fucking lucky.”
Lucky again. Did these people even know the meaning of the word?
“Can you please just fuck off? I don’t feel like talking right now.”
Jesus. Now I was resorting to asking please.
“Can’t.” He leaned against the plain wooden dresser, one hip jutting out, allowing his t-shirt to pull a little tighter against his abs. And damn it, I wasn’t thinking about his body again when my life had taken a turn for complete shit. “This is my room. Dwayne’s coming up in a sec anyways. He never finished that paper.”
Fuck.
I got up from the bed to grab my jacket—at least it was good to have some of my own things around again—and left the room without another word.
And definitely without another glance at Brandon’s abs.
“Just where do you think you’re going, young man?” Ms. Cecily caught me at the foot of the stairs.
“I need some air.” I kept on my path for the back door. Ms. Cecily didn’t freak me out the way her sister did. She was softer, somehow—and not just because she was quite a few pounds heavier.
“You can go out to the backyard.” She followed after me. “But only until lights out. And you should know, child—you only get one shot at this.”
I stopped, but didn’t turn around. “One shot at what?”
“At staying here, with us. If you plannin’ to run away…well, we not gonna have a place for you here anymore if you do.”
What had Brandon said to me when we’d first met? That there were worse places than this? I hadn’t given his words any thought at the time, and not just because I was distracted by the rise and fall of his chest against my back. But now I did pause to wonder…if I ran away and got caught, would I end up in some sort of foster care jail?
“I’m not running away. I just really…I need to be by myself, okay?”
Her heavy footsteps stopped echoing mine after that.
Out in the backyard, I took a long, deep breath and attempted to calm myself enough to think. The night sky above me was the same hazy purple it was at home—nice to see that hadn’t changed—but somehow the air smelled different. I ducked behind a metal shed for some form of privacy and sank to the dirt and grass below.
Now I was trapped. Really trapped. And I just kept getting caught up on the fact that the tiniest little thing…a measly shoe…had set this all in motion.
Not that rehashing my screw-ups over said shoe was going to help any. I needed to focus…come up with some sort of plan.
Maybe a cigarette would help.
I drew out the carton and lit one up, trying to ignore how badly my fingers were trembling. The first deep inhale and the familiar scent actually did help keep me from spiraling into a pool of self-pity.
Now then…what next? Try to find my mom? Get hold of a phone and see if José had any idea where she was? Though if what Suzie said was true, she knew I was out here…which meant she’d…
&nbs
p; No, Hector was controlling her, the way he always did. My mom knew I could take care of myself, and she had to have a reason for what she was doing.
I could’ve tried looking for Mimi. She’d turned twenty-one back in August—not that they’d ever release me into her custody. Not without a pretty big miracle, anyway.
One tiny crunch of a twig was the only warning I got that someone was near me, and by then it was too late. I jumped backwards and smashed the cigarette into the ground, my heart hammering in my chest.
Seb stared at me, his head tilted slightly to the side.
“Are you gonna fucking tell on me?” I shouted the moment I’d regained my wits. “That why you followed me back here, retard?”
He continued staring.
“Well? What, you never seen no one smoke before?”
I knew he’d already caught me, so I picked up the cigarette and waved it in front of me. “Get a good look, retard, then go run and tell your two mommies.”
Shit, maybe my next decision had just been made for me. They didn’t seem like the types who would tolerate sneaking around with cigarettes.
I waited, glaring fiercely, until my brain finally caught up with my mouth. “Fuck…you’re not gonna tell, are you. You can’t even talk.”
He blinked.
“Well…sorry I yelled.” Heat crept up my skin, more out of shame than anything else. I’d just screamed my head off at a poor handicapped kid who hadn’t done a damn thing to me…and that certainly wasn’t the best way to make sure I stayed out of immediate trouble. “You just startled me.”
No response. Well, of course there was no response.
“Um, are you gonna go back in? Or…you wanna…?” I patted the ground by my side. I wasn’t ready to head back into the lion’s den—I needed some time to let the air carry away the smell of smoke.
He hesitated a moment longer before joining me behind the shed. In a smooth, graceful movement, he folded his body so he was sitting cross-legged beside me.
