Jaden Baker

by Courtney Kirchoff

  “I don’t want to have nightmares,” he said.

  “You think they’ll return? Even though you’re in a new and safe place?” “I don’t know.”

  Now she leaned back in her chair. “There is one way to make real progress.You have to get it out. We’ve been avoiding the issue for years. Don’t you want to talk about it?”

  He clenched his hands around the arms of the chair and bit his lower lip, shaking his head.

  “It might help.”

  He glowered at her. How was talking supposed to help? Everyone said so, but how could they know? Wasn’t everyone’s life different? How would a discussion about feelings erase memories?

  “You’re angry,” she said.

  He remained silent.

  “The Kauffmans want a child. They don’t need money from the state. I can tell you, after what happened the last time, we made sure this family checked out. It won’t happen again. You’re safe.”

  She couldn’t analyze what he didn’t say. He tried thinking of things he and the Kauffmans would do once they got back to the house. It was too hot outside for sports, so he would have to find an indoors activity. The Kauffmans didn’t have books to read, they had all their books on their high-tech electronic things.

  Anita kept staring. Her eyes, which bored into him, reminded him of things he didn’t want to discuss, like she was shooting images into his brain, making him remember, forcing him to talk. Chatting about his “issues” wasn’t going to make them go away. They’d happened, he’d lived, he was passed it. The problem was ensuring they didn’t happen again. Anita, with her judging eyebrows and nods, couldn’t do anything to help prevent anything.

  “You’re playing the quiet game. We have a while to go yet.”

  Jaden crossed his arms. “I don’t think I need therapy.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes it’s so,” Jaden said.

  “Why do you believe that?” she asked.

  Jaden smirked. “Why do you think I need it?”

  “I didn’t say I did.”

  Oh. No, she hadn’t said that. Crap, she was a ninja.

  “Then I can stop coming, if neither one of us thinks I need therapy?” he said.

  “I didn’t say that either,” she said.

  “Well say something!”

  Anita pursed her lips. “There’s no need to get snappy.”

  “I’m fine, and I don’t want to come anymore. There’s nothing wrong with me.” Even as the words were spoken, Jaden’s face flushed. It wasn’t the entire truth. “Wrong” was a word he didn’t like. He was odd. A little different, but not wrong.

  “Jaden,” Anita said, a warmness in her usually cold voice, “it’s unusual for boys to keep themselves awake at night so they don’t have nightmares. Which means one of two things: the nightmares are horrifying, or you’re afraid of what happens when they come. Either way, it’s something we need to work on so you can move past it.

  “You’re mature, so I’m going to talk to you like an adult. The reason you continue coming here has everything to do with too many changes in your life, and nothing to do with you being insane. No one has ever said you’re insane, and no one will. You’ve been through a lot of stress, and I want to help you get through it. Doesn’t that sound reasonable?”

  It did sound reasonable, but he didn’t want to admit it to her.

  She continued through his silence. “You’re terrified of losing control. I know that’s important to you.”

  In the three years he’d been forced to see her, she had never been so honest. Part of him was curious about the sudden change in her approach, the other part was thankful. He was tired of being treated like a child, sitting here in a room filled with toys. That’s what the State of California thought he was: just another boy in the system. The truth was different. In age, yes, he was a child, but he knew most people would never know as much as he did.

  “So...” Jaden started. He thought for a moment. Anita looked expectantly at him. “So what if I told you it was both.”

  “Both of what?”

  “The nightmares. It’s both.”

  If Anita felt triumphant she didn’t show it.

  “I’m scared of the nightmares and what I’ll do,” Jaden said slowly, looking up at her from under his brow. Taking a deep breath he said, “Because that’s what happened the last time.”

  A small flicker of excitement flashed briefly in her eyes. At long last, he was opening up.

  “What are they about?” she asked.

  Before the words could form on his lips, Jaden felt sick. Images flashed across his mind, and his stomach clenched. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to think instead of playing basketball with Derek. Remembering how much fun it was to win a game against an adult, of how Jenny clapped when he made a shot from the three point line.

  Talking about it wasn’t going to help. He tried. The pain in his gut lessened and he released the breath he was holding. A knocking sound forced his eyes open, and he saw Anita clutching her pen tightly in her hand, her own eyes wide.

  She relaxed the moment he noticed her.

  “I can’t—”

  “That’s okay,” she said. She smiled at him. “That’s okay. Let’s move on.”

  two

  Naturally the Kauffmans asked about the session. He skipped over the details with vague generalities, taking advantage of the fact that, as suburban dwellers, their experience in the realm of child psychology was limited. Jaden told them he was safe to drive and take home, using the sarcasm they appeared to like. They smiled and let it go.

  He watched passing cars through the window. Red ones, blue ones, silver ones. He made a game of counting the yellow cars because there didn’t seem to be too many of those. While focusing on his search for canary cars, Jaden heard snippets of the conversation in the front seats. Only after his name was mentioned did he abandon his count (seven) to listen.

  Jenny discussed potato salad. Jaden shook his head. Reading in the morning while drinking coffee, wearing slippers, and now potato salad. It was like living in a parallel universe. She wondered aloud what mayonnaise to use, like it was a big deal. Jaden was unaware there were different kinds. The matters that concerned the Kauffmans were laughably trivial. Types of mayonnaise. Unreal.

  Listening to this conversation was more entertaining and enlightening than counting cars. He regretted the time lost.

  “What do you like better, honey, the red potatoes or the regular ones?” she asked her husband, who shrugged.

  “Whatever we have at the house.”

  “Well that’s the thing, we don’t have either.”

  “Do the one you like best.”

  “Which do you like best?” she asked him.

  “I like both.”

  “Well pick one. Be honest, which one is better?”

  Jaden tried to keep from laughing.

  “I don’t know. Why potato salad? Why not regular salad?”

  “Sam is bringing her salad. I can’t compete with that. I make lousy noodle salad. It has to be potato.”

  “Let’s pick some up at the store and put it on our own bowl,” Derek suggested.

  “That’s cheating. You’re suggesting we cheat?”

  “Is it a competition or a barbecue? Do wives gossip about salads?”

  Jenny grunted. “Some.”

  They stopped talking. A decision had been reached? Jaden couldn’t stand the suspense.

  “You’re going to a barbecue?” he asked. They would leave him alone in the house? That’s trust.

  “We’re going to a barbecue. Tonight. Sorry, didn’t we tell you?” Jenny asked, turning to see him.

  Jaden swallowed. “Me? I’m going too?”

  Derek glanced at him through the rear view mirror. His eyes crinkled into a smile. “Of course. Did you think we’d leave you alone?”

  “There are going to be people there?” Jaden asked.

  Derek laughed. “Yep, our friends.”
<
br />   Jaden’s armpits were suddenly sweaty. It was only day seven and they were introducing him to other people? Wasn’t that too soon? What kind of people were these new people? The Kauffmans’ friends were going to examine Jaden with microscopes, talk about him behind his back, maybe influence the Kauffmans in negative ways. He needed more time...

  “Are you okay?” Jenny asked him.

  “Huh?” Jaden asked, rolling down his window for fresh, albeit it scorching air.

  “A couple of other families are going. It’s not a big event. Very small.”

  “Uh huh.” He wasn’t sure if it was the hot air or his nerves which made him sweat profusely. It was gross, like living in his own warm swimming pool.

  Jenny gave attention to her husband, whose eyes were no longer crinkly. They didn’t speak the rest of the way to the house, and did not stop at the store for potato salad.

  As soon as the garage door closed, Jaden got out of the car and went straight upstairs to his bedroom, avoiding eye contact with Jenny and Derek. It was time to strategize for the evening; he required total privacy. The temperature change from the stuffy garage to the artificial cool of the house made him shiver. There was no time for even the smallest distractions, and he launched up the steps two at a time without thinking about it, needing to get into his own space so he could breathe easier. He was about to attend a social event. With people.

  It was terribly unfair of the Kauffmans to toss him into a mix of cheery neighbors. He didn’t understand their cultural practices of picking up dog crap in plastic bags, or getting up early in the mornings to read the news. They didn’t even get their news from papers, like normal people.

  Totally absorbed in sweat-inducing thoughts, he reached the top landing and strode to his bedroom door without noticing. Automatically, he stretched his hand to grab the knob and open the door—

  —but it opened on its own.

  Jaden froze. For a moment nothing else happened. The door swung into the room, the knob tapping the wall. One thousand one. One thousand two.

  Elephants stampeded in his ears. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure neither of the Kauffmans had seen, and when he realized they were both downstairs, he rushed into his room and went to close the door—

  —and it slammed without him touching it.

  Oh. Crap.

  He shut his eyes and counted to ten. First in English, then in Spanish. But the elephants were still thundering, the sweat still dripping.

  Badum-badum-badum-badum-badum-badum.

  Relax-relax-relax-relax-relax-relax!

  Yanking off all his clothes, Jaden stood naked and waited a few minutes. All was quiet and nothing happened around him.

  He swallowed and opened his eyes. Walking steadily to the chest of drawers, he slowed his breathing to normal and tried calming the pounding in his ears. He deliberately reached out for his shirt drawer to pull it open. His fingers clasped the brass handles. He sighed.

  Jaden dressed in new dry clothes, pulling tags off a pair of jeans before slipping them on. The jeans were soft and smelled funny, but good. It was a different smell than the inside of the Kauffmans’ car, but of the same ilk. New smell. Fresh smell. It was nice.

  Once dressed, he sat down on the end of his bed and searched the room for Bear.

  Bear was in the corner where Jaden had tried not sleeping the night before. He grabbed Bear and sat in the same corner, thinking.

  It had happened again. He knew it would eventually, but he had tried to prevent it. No matter what he did though, it always happened, whenever he wasn’t concentrating on it not happening. Jaden wasn’t sure what to do about it. Hell, he wasn’t sure what it was. It wasn’t something he’d discussed with anyone. It was never the topic of conversation.

  The teddy bear in his hands held no explanation. Bear looked up at Jaden with two marble eyes and gave him no words of great wisdom. Only Bear had been a witness to the strangeness that orbited their lives together. Many times he wished the teddy would offer some kind of reason behind it, but Jaden held no illusions about the stuffed toy. He wasn’t real, just a bear. But holding Bear made him feel better, more relaxed. Jaden hugged Bear to his chest then went to his bed.

  Exhaustion hit him like a truck hits a traveling bee. Jaden barely had enough time to lie down before he fell into a deep sleep.

  It was bright out when Jaden finally woke. He wiped sweat off his forehead and moved out of a patch of light on his bed. There was a stale taste in his mouth. He brushed his teeth before starting downstairs.

  He got halfway down when he heard whispering. He stopped so he could listen more closely to what they said. They spoke in such low tones Jaden couldn’t understand them. He supposed it didn’t matter what he heard, he knew the subject.

  Jaden stomped down the rest of the stairs to announce his coming, hopefully to give them enough time to wrap up their last concerns. As he entered the kitchen he saw both reading a magazine. Yeah right. And he thought he was bad at camouflage.

  “Hey,” Jaden said as he opened the refrigerator to get a soda. He couldn’t be more casual if he tried. “I crashed upstairs. I guess I was totally wiped out. Maybe it’s the heat. So now I have that gross taste in my mouth. Tastes like ass.”

  Jenny laughed at this, but there was a strain to it.

  “We we’re just talking about you,” Jenny said. Apparently honesty wasn’t a problem in this house. She walked around the kitchen’s island and stood before Jaden, arms crossed. “We thought you might be ready for it, but we don’t want to push you.”

  Though he appreciated the sentiment, now it felt like Derek and Jenny thought of him like a delicate flower, not a boy. Sure, he had his issues, but he wanted to keep them to himself. If the Kauffmans were treating him like antique glass, he was playing his cards all wrong. He had to keep his emotions in check. They didn’t need to see his panic. That was his fault.

  He immediately regretted his prior hastiness. It was what some would call “flying off the handle,” and whatever “the handle” was, he’d flown off it. If Jaden was going to graft himself into this parallel universe of different mayonnaises and furniture magazines, he couldn’t “wear his heart on his sleeve,” anymore. That expression he did understand.

  Though chameleons didn’t change color to match their environment (a common misconception he corrected many times), they were the symbol of adaptability (due to that misconception). He could be a chameleon. He could change his colors to match theirs.

  “I’m fine,” Jaden blurted in response to Jenny. “It sounds fun.”

  “It’s okay if you need more time to adjust,” Jenny said, and Derek nodded.

  “I’m adjusted.” Jaden scrunched his face. “Well, you know what I mean. I can handle a stupid barbecue,” he said. “I’ve been through worse,” he added nonchalantly looking back at them as he took a large gulp of soda and choked.

  Derek smiled at his wife. “Told you he’d be fine.”

  But when it came to show time, Jaden’s resolve wavered. He stood upstairs in his room, observing the people migrating into the backyard. He had the shutters positioned in such a way that he could see down, but they couldn’t see up. The Kauffmans said three other families were coming. It was a small gathering. All three couples had children Jaden’s age. As girls in pink and two loud boys tore in through the yard, Jaden suspected the Kauffmans real Master Plan: making friends. Great.

  The prospect of going downstairs and being introduced as...what? made him nervous. It wasn’t that he worried about being accepted, it was something else. He was completely different from everyone, he wondered why he should even bother with formalities. He had been dropped into a world so contrasting to the one he’d been born into, he felt not like a fish out of water, but of a fish on a plate in a Japanese restaurant. These kids, these suburban babies born into a pampered existence of designer onesies and thousand dollar cribs, were nothing like him. How was he to connect and make new friends?

  Would they wonder where
he came from? Unlike them, he was not a product of Derek and Jenny’s champagne bubbly honeymoon, brought up under an expensive roof. He had popped up like a dandelion in the cement crack of a sidewalk, background unknown.

  He reached out and found Bear and held him to his chest. His presence was comforting, though Bear had few words.

  Jenny knocked on Jaden’s door and let herself in.

  “Hi,” she said kindly, sitting herself on his bed.

  “Hey,” he replied, staring into the backyard below.

  “You want to meet everyone?” she asked.

  Jaden’s stomach clenched at the thought. Meeting all of them was so permanent. It solidified his role as Substitute Son, and despite what he said to them and himself, Jaden wasn’t ready for the role. He wanted to be, but the idea was too fresh. Descending into the living room of conventional normalcy was like the curtain pulling back. All of these families, they’d go home and talk about him, a subject for dessert and coffee. Jaden Baker, the foster child. Those poor Kauffmans, barren, had to pick up someone’s reject.

  “Are you okay?” Jenny asked.

  No, not at all. He rest his cheek on the top of Bear’s head and felt a familiar pain in his gut, deep, deep down. But he remembered the rule he’d set himself. Be the fictional chameleon. Adapt to your environment. This was work, but worth it to live here.

  “I’m fine,” Jaden said, turning to her. She had the kindest face.

  “You want to take your teddy with you?”

  Jaden snickered. “No. They’d laugh at me. He can stay here.” Jaden rubbed Bear’s ears, then set him on the bed. He did want to take him. It was embarrassing; Bear was his security blanket. He didn’t know anyone at the group home who had a stuffed animal at their side, so he kept Bear a secret.

  “How long have you had him?” Jenny asked.