She turned away and took several deep breaths before regretting it. She needed fresh air. But she wasn’t going to find it here. She hurried away from the abhorrent display of death into the rest of the house. A short hallway led to a bathroom that stood open and revealed nothing gruesome. There were four other doors on the hallway—two were open and two were closed. The first one she opened released a fresh wave of rank decay. She took a step back and pulled her tee-shirt over her nose. “Fuck.” Of course the first door I open is theirs. She stepped inside the room and immediately spotted the stain blackening the dark brown carpet.
This is where Frank Webster died. The blood that soaked into the carpet as if it were a sponge and spread it out into an amorphous blob. The blood on the floor was of her own flesh and blood. Some parts of her DNA matched with the DNA on the floor A dizziness flooded over her she chalked it up to the poor air quality. She tore her eyes away from the stain and surveyed the room. No pictures adorned these walls. The quilt on the bed looked handmade and consisted of multiple squares of varying patterns and shades of blue. The only thing in the room that was in disarray was the corner of the quilt closest to the blood stain. It had been pulled askew as Frank must have clawed at it during the attack. More black powder brushed the white frame of the bed.
Rion wanted to feel something. Regret. Anger. Sadness. Anything. But, instead, she felt empty. It was clear there was nothing for her in this room. She stepped out, pulling the door closed behind her. The next door led to a closet full of towels and other items that one would expect to find in a closet near a bathroom. She ran her fingers over a used can of shaving cream, a box of muscle rub and other assorted toiletries. Which of this stuff did Frank use, she wondered. The next door opened to an empty room. It was completely empty. No furniture. No decorations. Nothing. Rion scowled. Odd, she shrugged and closed the door. The next one proved to be Beckett’s room.
The only reason she knew this was because it held a small bed and a chest open to reveal multiple toys. Stuffed animals and dolls mostly. Otherwise, nothing else marked it as a child’s room. The color of the carpet was the same brown as the other bedrooms, and the quilt on the bed was mostly white and pink. The prints on the wall were more generic landscapes that went along with the brown and red décor. Rion’s brow wrinkled as she stepped inside. A kid lived here? Finally, she felt something. Anger. She grew indignant at the life Beckett must have lived. No pets. Nothing special just for her. Her toys didn’t even look played with.
The house was spotless other than the blood stains and the fingerprint dust. It didn’t even look lived in. Especially not by a kid. She clenched her teeth and vowed to find an apartment where Beckett could have a room to make her own. She opened the closet and found a laundry basket. She threw the few items of dirty clothes into one of the bags draped over her arm. Beckett had worn these which meant she liked them and they fit. She quickly pulled several pairs of jeans from hangers and gathered as many shirts she could fit on top of them. In another bag she emptied several dresser drawers of panties, socks and pajamas.
She worked faster and faster, suddenly filled with the desire to get out of this house and be done with it. There was nothing here for Becket anymore, and there had never been anything here for Rion. The kid only had three pairs of shoes apparently, and Rion nearly growled out loud as she stuffed them into another bag. On top of the shoes she tucked a stuffed rabbit, and two dolls. They had been the toys on the top and Rion figured they were the last ones played with.
Rion hurried from the room but drew up as if she had hit a brick wall. Beckett was standing in the doorway of her parent’s bedroom. “Shit!” Rion exclaimed. Beckett didn’t acknowledge that she had been caught. Rion froze for a moment. What the hell? She was torn between being angry that Beckett had disobeyed her, sad that the kid had seen the evidence of what had happened to her parents, and terrified of how this was going to affect her.
Rion finally snapped out of her stupor. “Beckett!” she said firmly. The kid turned towards her after a moment’s hesitation. She didn’t know how she expected the kid to look, but completely neutral wasn’t it. She tried to work up saliva as her mouth went dry. “Beckett,” she tried again. “What are you doing? I told you to stay outside. You promised.” Beckett stared at her and Rion softened a little. “Are you OK?” The kid didn’t respond. “Let’s just get out of here. We’ll talk about this later.” Beckett calmly turned and walked towards the front door, not even glancing towards the dining where her mother’s blood coated the floor.
The entire train ride home Rion was torn between guilt, anger, and worry. She realized she hadn’t even given Beckett a chance to grab anything she wanted in particular. Rion stared at the cart full of the stuff she had grabbed for the kid and sighed. At the same time, she was angry at herself for trusting Beckett to do as she was told. What if instead of coming into the house, Beckett had decided to wander off? And, what if now that Beckett had been inside and saw the bloodstains she now had some kind of freak out or her trauma got worse? What if she never speaks again?
Anxiety rolled down Rion’s back in rivulets of sweat. Who was I kidding to think I could do this? Chambers is going to find out about this and take Beckett away. Then where will she be? Rion recognized the only way the social worker was going to find out is if she told her. The chances of Beckett telling her were slim. She didn’t seem to even want to tell the woman (or anyone else) anything—let alone tattle on something this big. The idea of lying to Chambers soured in Rion’s stomach. This can’t become a habit.
Rion hauled the cart up the stairs urging Beckett ahead of her. She heard Bernie’s door open but she ignored his greeting. She didn’t feel like talking to him or anyone else. Inside, she rolled the cart into the bedroom. Beckett was watching her as she pulled the bags out and laid them on the bed. “I just grabbed the things that seemed most used. I hope that’s OK.” Beckett graced her with a shrug. Irritation bubbled through Rion’s chest. “Look,” she sat on the edge of the bed. “Come here,” she pointed to the floor in front of her. After a moment, Beckett crossed the room and stood in front of her.
“Do you know why I told you not to come inside the house?” Beckett nodded. “Do you really?” she tilted her head and Beckett nodded again. Rion could swear the kid looked slightly annoyed. “It was for your own good. You didn’t need to see that.” Beckett blinked at her. “When I tell you something you’ve got to do it. I’m never going to tell you to do something that would hurt you or that would be bad for you.” At least I hope not, Rion assured herself. “So, when I ask you to do, or not do something, you have to do it,” she repeated for emphasis. “I…,” Rion sighed and looked away. “I’m being honest when I say, I don’t really know what the hell I’m doing here. I just know, that foster care isn’t…it isn’t a place you want to be.”
“I’m not perfect, but you don’t want to go there, either. Do you?” Beckett shook her head. “Good. So…now I’m going to have to punish you for not doing what I asked.” Beckett raised a brow and Rion almost lost her firm composure. The kid was humoring her. Rion didn’t know if she should laugh about that, or be angrier. She decided to ignore it. She looked at the toys in bags, something told her Beckett didn’t actually care about these toys. She hadn’t made an attempt to even look in the bag. “No news. For the rest of the day. “You have to stay in here. If you put your clothes away, you can play with your toys. But no coming out until dinner.” Beckett narrowed her eyes and Rion was relieved to see that the punishment did have an impact. On top of the relief was apprehension. What if Beckett reacts badly to being punished? Images of inconsolable temper tantrums caused Rion to shudder.
Rion nodded towards the bag of clothes and toys. "Try to find a place for your stuff. Wherever you feel comfortable with it being. I got some things, animals and clothes." At the mention of the toys, Beckett's eyes brightened. She pulled out plush animals and when she ran out she dug around in the bad before looking at Rion. "The bear?"
"What bear?" she asked.
Beckett huffed and pushed the other animals away without answering. Rion felt bad she didn't get the right toys, but there wasn't much she could do about that now. She left the kid to put away her things and sat at the counter with her laptop. She needed to start searching for an apartment. The tiny space they currently occupied would only lead to more stress for the both of them. After scrolling through so many listings they were blurring together, she finally closed her computer. She was dejected and frustrated. She hadn’t had any luck finding something she could afford that wasn’t in an area that made her want buy a gun for protection. She rubbed her forehead, wincing at the headache that was forming behind her eyes. Feeling like she couldn’t put it off any longer, she picked up her phone to call Chambers.
The social worker picked up on the fourth ring. “Carolyn Chambers, DCFS.”
“Hi Chambers. This is Rion Webster.”
“Hello! How did everything go?”
“Fine,” she croaked, then cleared her throat. “I got a bunch of clothes and toys for her, she’s playing with them now.”
“Wonderful,” Chambers sounded genuinely relieved. “What was the state of the house?”
“It hadn’t been cleaned.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Right.” Rion’s stomach rolled.
"Did Beckett stay outside?"
Rion hesitated for a long moment. The lie felt like sandpaper in her mouth. "Yes."
“Good. A lawyer, from your father’s estate contacted me.”
“What?”
“His name is Aaron Smyth. He was trying to get into contact with you.”
“Why?”
“Well, I’m not sure, but I would assume it is about your father’s property.”
Rion felt dumb. “Sorry. Sure. That makes sense.”
“Right. Because you are Beckett’s guardian.”
“Of course.”
Rion copied down the lawyer’s information and assured Chambers, again, that she and Beckett were fine.
She rested her head on her arms for a moment, feeling overwhelmed. A week ago, her biggest worry was where she was going to get takeout next. Now, she had to figure out what to cook for a kid. “Shit!” she hissed bolting up. It had only just occurred to her that she hadn’t eaten lunch. Which meant Beckett had not eaten lunch. She squeezed her eyes shut as they burned. Her stomach twisted. How do you forget to feed a kid? She berated herself. Another voice tried to defend her. Well, if she was hungry wouldn’t she have said something? Don’t be an asshole! She sighed, sliding off the stool. She decided to splurge and order them pizza. Kids love pizza, right?
As they ate their pizza, Beckett stared at Rion. She tried to tell herself the kid was just being her usual self. But she read all kinds of judgement in the huge brown eyes. Rion tried to find something to talk about. “Do you have any questions about your parents’ house?” Beckett shook her head. “Was there anything that you wanted that I didn’t get?” Beckett held her gaze but didn't answer. Rion sighed. "What about the bear?" The kid didn't answer. Could it be that important if she won't ask for it now? She wanted to ask the kid if she was mad at her, but she didn’t. Kids got mad when they were punished. That was normal. Isn’t’ it?
Rion sent Beckett to bed and was determined that tomorrow would be a better day. She stretched out on the futon and tried to get her brain to shut off. She eventually drifted off only to jerk awake with her heart hammering. It took her a few moments to process the sounds that woke her up. She lay still for a moment trying to make sure no one was in the apartment. A blue light from the kitchen finally made her sit up. That’s when she realized what the sounds were. The clanking of metal was the first thing that caught her attention. It was the grates over the burners on the stove. Then a cat growling followed by thudding. But it was the smell that got her out of bed. The odor of burned hair assaulted her nose. Once she stood she could see the ice blue glow of the flame on the stove and she began flipping on lights. Link stared at her from the top of the fridge.
“What the fuck?” Rion turned off the burner and coaxed Link down. “Did you accidentally turn a burner on?” She held him against her chest. She could feel his heart racing and he let out a mournful mew. Something was off about his face. She held him up and blinked to clear the sleep out of her eyes. The whiskers on one side of his face were less than an inch long and curled on the ends. They had been singed off. “Shit. You could have set yourself on fire.” Link had never done anything like this before and she tried to figure out if his stepping on the burner dial could have really turned it enough to ignite. It was only then that she remembered the sound of thudding sounds and realized they had been footsteps.
Four
“Beckett, did you get out of bed last night?” The kid continued to eat her cereal without answering Rion. “Were you trying to pet Link again?” Still no answer. “You can pet him. He’ll get used to you eventually. You just have to give him more time. It will just take a while.” Beckett remained silent and Rion sighed. “Did you see him step on a burner? Or did you turn it on?” Finally, she looked up from her bowl and blinked. After a few moments she shook her head. “No you didn’t see him? Or no, you didn’t turn on the burner? Maybe you were trying to see? Turned it on for light?” No response.
Rion clenched her teeth, determined to be firm. She was giving the kid the benefit of the doubt that she didn’t intend on hurting Link, but she could have. Before she could continue, a knock at the door caused her to jump and Beckett to stop eating long enough to look at the door. “Shit,” Rion muttered. She hoped it wasn’t Chambers on a surprise visit. Almost worse, Shep stood on the other side of the door when she opened it.
“Hi,” he said, sheepishly. He looked past her into the house as if he knew someone was inside.
“Hi,” Rion pointedly braced her arm against the frame, effectively blocking him from entering.
“So, I was talking to Kerry yesterday.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She said your sister was living with you?’
Rion sighed. Why can’t people mind their own business? “Yeah.”
“That’s really cool.”
“Thanks?” Rion tilted her head. Where is he going with this?
“Sorry. I just wanted to let you know, if you ever needed anything, just let me know...you know...,” he trailed off lamely.
“OK.” She concentrated on not encouraging to continue—but it didn’t work.
“Well, and, I actually have an old video game system that I don’t use anymore. A Wii. I was going to offer it to you. I’ve got some games that go with it.”
“Why would you just give me that?”
Shep’s cheeks turned red. “I really don’t use it anymore. I have a lot of younger siblings. I-I like kids. I thought she might want to play with it.”
Rion tried to relax. “Sorry.” She actually felt a little guilty. “It’s nice of you to offer, but Beckett doesn’t seem the type to play video games.”
“Beckett? Cool name.”
Rion shrugged. “I guess it was our dad that liked the odd names.”
“I’m not going to judge. My name is Shepard. It’s pretty weird too.”
Rion didn’t respond. The sudden camaraderie was uncomfortable. She glanced back at Beckett and realized the kid was watching their exchange. When she spoke Rion almost jumped.
“I like video games.”
Rion stared at her for a moment. “You do?” Beckett nodded. “But I didn’t see one at your house.” The kid didn’t respond. Rion turned back to Shep. “Well…”
He smiled. “I’ll go get it.”
Fifteen minutes later, Shep and Beckett were playing some Mario Brothers game. The kid didn’t talk to Shep, but she interacted with him willingly. Rion watched them in fascination. Shep didn’t try to make Beckett talk. Instead, he just told her how to work the controllers. She handled them like she had never used them before. Maybe she’s just never played a Wii?
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Rion couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Beckett was showing more comfort and willingness to interact with Shep than she did with her. Rion’s brow furrowed when Beckett glanced at her with the tiniest of smiles. She swallowed hard. What was that look? As stupid as it was, Rion couldn’t shake the feeling that Beckett not only knew how she felt, but was trying to make her feel that way on purpose. That’s just dumb, she tried to tell herself. Why would Beckett try to make her feel bad?
Wanting to stop staring at them and finding reasons to feel bad, Rion decided to look for more apartments. She opened her computer and reached into the stack of papers on the counter for her note pad. She shifted through several bills and magazines before realizing the pad was gone. Her frustration caused her to squeeze her eyes shut. I had it right here yesterday. She riffled through the whole pile, growing angrier the longer she spent looking for it. She even resorted to looking on the coffee table just in case she had moved it for some reason.
“What are you looking for?” Shep asked her.
She growled and flopped onto the futon. “A note pad I had yesterday. I was jotting down apartment rental information. I know I left it on the counter, but now it’s gone.”
“Are you sure that’s where you had it last?” he asked, looking a little alarmed over Rion’s apartment hunting.
She resisted the urge to snap at him. “Yes.”
“Do you want us to help look for it?”
“No,” she sighed. “It didn’t really have anything that important on it.” She hadn’t found many good leads. Not enough that she couldn’t duplicate anyway. It was more the principle of the matter at this point. She, eventually, admitted defeat and got a new pad out and opened her computer again.
A few hours later, Rion grew tired of the inane beeps, bloops, and whirls of the video game and declared it was time to stop for lunch. Shep got the point pretty quickly that he wasn’t invited. He awkwardly made his way to the door and Rion followed.
Something Happened Page 5
