by C Lee Tocci
“Marla,” Ms. Burbank’s voice recalled Todd from his thoughts, “will you let Sarah take a nap on your bed until we get her settled? And Jeff, would you grab her bag from the back seat?”
Todd scowled. As the oldest it should have been his responsibility to get the new kid settled, but Ms. Burbank wouldn’t even look at him, never mind speak to him.
He stormed through the gate and up the steps into the dorm wing. The rest of the kids followed more slowly, Marla lagging behind to help Sarah.
Jeff caught up with Todd and grabbed his arm. “Hey Todd! When you go, can I have your room?”
“Shut up, Jeff,” Marla snapped, “and, no, you can’t have his room.”
“You won’t be in charge, Marla,” Jeff said smugly. “You won’t be the oldest. Donny’s older than you, so he’ll be in charge.”
Marla gave his comment the snort it deserved. Donny was a month and a half older than Marla, but no one expected Donny to take charge. When Todd left, Marla would be the senior resident and they all knew it.
Todd shook off Jeff’s grip and stomped up the stairs. The others followed him down the hall to Marla’s room. Marla sat Sarah on her bed while Todd crossed to her closet and moved her shoes out of the way. When the closet floor was bare, he quietly lifted the floorboards, exposing an abandoned vent in the ceiling above the kitchen. They sat silently and listened to the conversation between Ms. Burbank and Mrs. Callow below while Sarah stared listlessly out the window.
“That boy should’ve been moved out months ago,” Mrs. Callow said as she placed the kettle on the stove. “He’s thirteen now.”
She spat the words “that boy” like they were poison. The others shot glances at Todd, but he forced his face to stay blank.
“I know,” twittered Ms. Burbank, “but I know how you hate to have an empty bed and the county hasn’t had any other suitable placements this year.”
“Now, about this new one. I’m not certified for Special Needs. You know I only want residents who can take care of themselves. I don’t have the energy to handle high maintenance placements.”
“She’s fairly self-sufficient, and there’s no need to keep her in County Medical any longer,” said Ms. Burbank. Todd knew what she meant, the County didn’t want to spend the money to keep her in the hospital.
Mrs. Callow seemed to understand this as well. “It won’t be as expensive to keep her here as in County Medical, but she’ll cost more than the healthy ones.”
There was a hint of relief in Ms. Burbank’s voice. Mrs. Callow would foster a cobra if there were more money involved. “The County has authorized a higher allowance for this one. They don’t expect her to last too long.”
The eavesdroppers glanced at Sarah, who still sat motionless on the bed, her glazed eyes staring out the window, apparently oblivious.
“What’s wrong with her? She’s not contagious is she?” asked Mrs. Callow as she bent to scoop a fat cat off the floor, coddling him protectively.
“No, no, no,” assured Ms. Burbank. “She was in a car accident. Her mother died and we can’t find any other relatives. From the I.D. we found in the wallet, we know the mother’s name was Charon Woo. We don’t know her real name, so we call her Sarah Woo. Not much use to call her anything though, since she hasn’t been very responsive to therapy.”
“Must have been a bad accident, from the looks of her. Head injury?” asked Mrs. Callow.
“Now that’s the strange thing,” answered Ms. Burbank slowly. “She was barely hurt at all in that car accident. Her head injuries seemed to be caused by some exploratory brain surgery that went badly. We checked with all the neurosurgeons in the country, but there’s no record of any child having that much cranial work done in the past year. We figure the mother must have taken her down across the border for some back room surgery and it went wrong. County Medical thinks it’ll do more harm than good to go back in and see what they were doing, but the CAT scan shows it’s pretty much a mess up there. It’s possible she’ll survive, but at this point they figure she’s got about six months before she’ll deteriorate to the point where she’ll have to be institutionalized.”
“Why put her here then?” asked Mrs. Callow. “Might as well stick her in an institution now as later.”
“We’re not done searching for her people yet. It’s possible someone might turn up, and we don’t want a repeat of last year’s Elkin scandal.”
Mrs. Callow nodded knowingly. “Well, we’d best get her settled in then. Now what about the boy? He started seventh grade weeks ago.”
Todd felt his chest tighten and a knot in his throat made his eyes burn with hot tears. He gritted his teeth and wouldn’t look at the others even though he knew they were staring at him. From the corner of his eye, he saw little Nita’s thumb edged up towards her mouth but Marla pulled it down before she could start sucking it again.
“I’ll be back on Monday for Todd. Can you find space for Sarah until then?” Ms. Burbank asked. “I do hate taking them to the Hardwell Center. Good things never happened to children at that place. But there just aren’t enough other options.”
“If you ask me,” Mrs. Callow snorted as she cleared away the teacups, “it’s where a little freak like him belongs.”
Upstairs, Todd stood and, without a word, walked out of the room, leaving Marla to replace the floorboards. The others silently watched him leave. Even Sarah turned her vacant eyes from the window to see him go, a faint flicker of thought glittering behind the haze.
Chapter Fourteen
The Last Supper
To a stranger, the silence at the dinner table might have seemed like everyone was upset that Todd was leaving. Or perhaps people were angry at each other. Or maybe everyone was suddenly shy and no one could think of anything to say.
But the truth is there never was any conversation at the Callow dinner table. The Callows didn’t hold with a lot of rude chatter during a meal.
Every night, Mr. Callow hid behind his horseracing paper and steadily shoveled food into his mouth. It didn’t seem as if he could possibly have enough time to chew and swallow before the next forkful arrived, but that would remain a mystery since you rarely saw his face during the meal. Mrs. Callow, having “nibbled” away a four course meal while preparing dinner, pecked at the tiny portion on her plate. After dinner, she’d spend an hour on the phone, calling her friends, complaining how could it be that she hardly ate at all but still couldn’t lose any weight.
Eight minutes and forty seconds into the meal, Mr. Callow dropped his fork, lowered the racing sheet, let out a smelly belch and pushed himself away from the table.
Right on schedule.
Mrs. Callow would then sigh and, after dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin, place her plate on the floor for the cats to eat. (She never served herself any vegetables since the cats didn’t like them.) Then, without a word, she’d leave the table, leaving the dishes for whoever had been assigned that job for the night.
It would stay quiet for the next sixty seconds as the kids waited for the television to go on in the living room. That was their cue that they could speak since the Callows wouldn’t come back into the kitchen for at least two gameshows.
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Did not, did not!”
“Did too, did too, did too!”
Jeff and Marla had been glaring at each other all through dinner and, as soon as they heard the TV blast, they broke out into a hushed squabble that threatened to escalate into out and out warfare.
“Knock it off.” Todd knew just how loud he could raise his voice without being heard in the next room. “What are you two talking about?”
“Jeff stole my locket!” Marla hissed.
“Shut up, Marla!” Jeff spat back. “I did not!”
“My grandmother’s locket just happens to disappear from my jewelry box around the same time that you just happen to have enough money to buy that MP3 player?”
“I spent all summe
r picking up tin cans to buy it. I didn’t steal your locket.” Jeff’s voice rang with the kind of righteous indignation that only the chronically guilty can have when they are occasionally innocent.
“Keep your voices down.” Todd shot a worried glance towards the living room. The last thing he needed was the Callows coming back in. “Marla, did you check everywhere? Behind your dresser?”
“Yes. And I always put it in the same compartment. I took it out to show Sarah and it was gone.”
“Yeah, well, maybe it was the new kid who took it,” Jeff said.
They all turned and looked at Sarah, who sat staring blindly, her meal untouched.
“Jeff.” Marla’s voice was icy. “She’s been here less than two hours, she can barely stand on her own and I’ve been with her the entire time.”
“Whatever.” Jeff shrugged. “I don’t know where it is, but I didn’t take it.”
“Bird took it,” Donny piped in unexpectedly.
“Donny, it was inside my jewelry box. There’s no way that a bird could have lifted the top. Somebody…” Marla glared at Jeff. “…had to have taken it.”
Jeff glared back but didn’t reply.
“Bird took it,” Donny repeated stubbornly.
“Donny, did you see the bird take it?” asked Todd.
Donny’s mouth opened and closed like a beached fish as he searched for the words, but it seemed that question was a bit too difficult for him so he just shook his head.
“Did Jeff tell you to say that?” Marla scowled at Jeff.
Jeff met her scowl and raised her a sneer.
Todd looked from one to the other as he scraped the last bit of mashed potato off his plate. This argument was going nowhere. Todd didn’t believe that a bird took the locket any more than Marla did, but if she accused Jeff openly, they’d both be joining him at the Hardwell Center. The Callows didn’t hold with stealing. Or tattletales. Or anything else that might interfere with their television watching.
“We’ll look for it tomorrow,” Todd said as he took his empty plate to the sink. “If we can’t find it in your room, then we’ll try to find Grey Feather’s nest. Maybe he’s got it.”
He doubted that they could find the nest, but since he didn’t think the locket was there, he would just be killing time, looking for it. And this would be his last weekend for exploring the canyon. Kids didn’t get to go off by themselves when they got to Hardwell. Free time was spent caged in a paved yard behind high fences. He rinsed off his plate as he ran away from that thought. Monday would come too soon and his life would become nothing but steel and concrete and memories.
Marla stepped up beside him at the sink. Her anger had morphed into tears and she hiccupped on a sob. “My grandmother gave me that locket before she died. She was the only one that ever cared about me.”
Todd stiffened, worried that Marla might break down and start talking about her real family. No one ever talked about their lives before Dalton Point. He didn’t know why, they just never did.
“My mother---” Marla started.
“I’ll clear the rest of the table.” Todd cut her off before she could embarrass herself.
Picking up the serving dishes, he looked back. Marla leaned against the sink, shaking. Her fingers gripped the counter while she pulled herself together. When she turned around, her face was grey, but she was in control. She took a deep breath, but wouldn’t look Todd in the eye. Instead, her eyes snapped over to the table behind him.
“Puddles! Get down!” Marla waved a dishtowel at the fat grey tabby that had jumped up and was sniffing at Sarah’s untouched plate. The cat meowed indignantly before leaping back down to the floor.
“Sarah,” Marla stabbed a piece of meatloaf and held it to the girl’s mouth. “Do you want to try some of this?”
Sarah stared out the window and ignored the fork waving near her face. After trying a few more times, Marla gave up with a shrug, but as she moved off to finish the dishes, the girl suddenly grunted.
“What is it, Sarah?” Marla asked.
“If you’re holding out for dessert, kid,” Jeff said as he dumped his plate into the sink, “give it up. It ain’t happening.”
But the girl just pointed out the window, her grunting sounding almost like a sentence. Marla glanced out the window into the darkening backyard.
“No, we can’t go out now. It’s getting dark,” Marla said as she rinsed off the silverware. “Maybe tomorrow.”
Todd watched Sarah as he dried the dishes and put them away. The spark of awareness that had been in her eyes faded with the daylight as the backyard dimmed into blackness. She was a bit of a mystery and, along with the rest of the disappointments he was dealing with, he was a little sorry that he wasn’t going to be around long enough to figure the new kid out.
Chapter Fifteen
The Midnight Pledge
The autumn breeze coming off the mountain poured through Todd’s bedroom window. It tasted sweet. The house was silent and the world was dark. Usually the smell of pine and ozone was would send him into a deep and calm sleep, but not tonight.
He pulled out his knife from under his pillow. Tonight, he didn’t take it out of its sheath as he usually did, but just let its weight rest on his fingertips, its leather sleeve smooth and familiar.
Maybe he should run away, disappear into the night and start a new life. Maybe try to find his father who may have been looking for him all these years.
Gloom. Loneliness. Fear. Waves of emotion hit him like punches in his gut. He clenched the knife in his fist and doubled over with grief.
“Loser!” he hissed to himself. “Reject! Nobody wants you. Your parents walked away from you and now the Callows are kicking you out. You’re nothing but yesterday’s garbage!”
With a choked sob, he swung his arm and the knife whipped out the window, disappearing with a faint thud into the dark of the backyard.
Todd bit his pillow, not wanting to wake the others. He cursed himself for crying; for being such a baby. He was thirteen now and he’d always known that Dalton Point wasn’t going to be his forever. He forced his breath to slow and the choppy gasps faded to heaving sighs. He rolled over onto his back, not sure if he wanted the oblivion of sleep or if it would be better to stay awake as long as possible, savoring his last days at Dalton Point.
The caw of a night bird jarred the silence. Todd remembered his knife. Quietly, he rolled out of bed and headed down the stairs. Going outside after curfew was against the rules, but then, having a knife was against the rules as well and as angry as Todd was, he didn’t want to lose this last link with his father.
The night was overcast and no stars shown through the haze, but a sliver of a moon gave just enough light and Todd had very sharp eyes. In a few minutes he’d found his knife over by the wood stile fence near the hose spigot. He slid it under the waistband of his pajama bottoms and was heading back to the house when a scrap of movement caught his eye.
A white wraith-like figure appeared from around the back of the house. Todd held his breath and watched as it moved closer. It was a small ghostly figure that moved with an awkward, almost drunken gait.
Todd’s sighed as he recognized the new girl hobbling around the backyard in her nightgown. She headed out the gate and towards the path that led up to Blue Mist Mountain.
Todd shook his head with disgust and started back to the house. Let her go, he thought, she’s not my responsibility. But Todd knew this wouldn’t fly. He had the soul of a shepherd and all his instincts weighed on him to keep the flock together. With a sigh, he turned back to the gate and headed up the path.
It wasn’t difficult to catch up with the girl. Her progress was slow and stumbling as her weak leg dragged behind her. She was only a few yards up the mountain path when Todd caught up to her.
“Sarah,” he said wearily, “you can’t be walking around at night by yourself. It’s against the rules.”
If the girl heard him at all, the only effect of his words was to cause he
r to totter faster. Todd heard her breath panting in her throat.
“Sarah,” said Todd and reached out impatiently to grab her arm.
Like a wounded wildcat, the girl fought against his hold, grunting incoherently, pulling him off balance. Startled, Todd released her arm, but with a few quick strides, stepped in front of her.
He didn’t try to grab her again, but instead spread his arms to block her path. The girl made tortured attempts to speak, but all that came out were a series of unintelligible mutters and growls, yet Todd could tell that she wanted to go up the mountain. And she wanted it badly.
And try as he might, Todd couldn’t ignore that plea.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what,” he compromised. “Tomorrow we’ll all go up the mountain together. How’s that?”
She looked to the trail and then back to Todd, a flicker of understanding in her face. She nodded jerkily and didn’t fight him when he reached out to take her hand and lead her back into the house. Yet her eyes stayed fixed behind her on the mountain that loomed above Dalton Point.
Todd hoped by morning the girl would have forgotten that midnight promise, but he doubted it.
Chapter Sixteen
The Trail of Stones
It was Saturday and normally there were chores before they could call the day their own. This morning however, Todd looked forward to sleeping in since he had done all his Saturday chores on Friday afternoon.
But for Todd, sleeping late was not his fate.
Something was disturbing his sleep and he fought the urge to wake up. But it was useless. With a sigh, he abandoned the fight and opened his eyes a crack to let in the early light.
Todd blinked once or twice to focus his eyes before letting out a piercing scream. Even if he’d been expecting the face that hovered inches from his nose, the sight of the new girl’s mangled grin that close up would still have been frightening. Todd rolled away from her, falling to the floor with a thud and a tangle of blankets.
