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Callis Rose

Page 7

by Mark Tufo

“That wasn’t my fault!” she said loudly.

  “Oh I’m not saying that. I would just imagine that you’re still grieving.”

  “Yes...yes, still grieving. He was a saint,” she echoed, calming down.

  “Can I see Becky and Frankie?” Danny asked.

  “Why?” she blurted.

  He looked over at her speculatively.

  “I mean, of course. They’re in the back yard playing. Want me to show you the way?”

  “I know the way,” he told her, not wanting her hanging over his shoulder as he talked to them.

  “Hi Danny!” Frankie said excitedly. Becky waved slightly. She had a fear of all things male and with good reason.

  “Hey, Frankie, how you been?” he asked.

  “Good. It’s actually pretty good here,” she replied.

  “How about you, sweetheart?” he asked Becky.

  “It’s good,” she mumbled. “Me and Frankie are friends.”

  “I’m happy to hear it. What about Callis, Frankie?”

  “What about her, Danny?”

  “Well…how do you feel about her? Has she been getting into trouble?”

  “She’s alright, she doesn’t say much, spends most of her time with Josh, and he doesn’t say much either.”

  “Because he’s a baby,” Becky added.

  “Well duh,” Frankie said, smiling at her friend.

  “So she doesn’t get in trouble?” Danny asked, trying to piece the puzzle together.

  “Not at all. Mrs. Templeton loves how she cares for Josh, brags about it all the time to her friends when she’s on the phone,” Frankie said, getting chatty.

  “What happened today to change that?” he prodded.

  Frankie shrugged her shoulders all of a sudden getting quiet. She was looking past Danny’s shoulder. Danny turned to notice Jodie standing by the kitchen window looking out at them. She immediately erased the scowl and waved. He was curious to find out what happened, but not enough so to jeopardize the placement of these two girls who seemed relatively happy. It would be the sacrifice of the one, for the two.

  “Well it was good seeing you guys again.”

  “You too, Danny!” Frankie said excitedly as she grabbed her friend’s hand and they turned to go play with their toys.

  Danny walked back in the house.

  “Everything alright?” Jodie asked with a look of concern.

  “Perfect,” he lied. “The girls seem very happy.”

  “Oh they are,” Jodie interjected.

  “I’m happy for it.”

  “Umm, about the limitations, I mean I guess if you get a girl in Frankie and Becky’s age range…you know, where the hormones haven’t kicked in and all…that would be okay. I mean I’d hate to see someone go to a less savory house.”

  “Well I know you’re busy. Just take a little time off and we’ll revisit this in three months.”

  “Three months? That’s fifteen hundred!” she exclaimed. “I mean...”

  “I know what you mean Mrs. Templeton. I’m going to take Callis to her next home, then I’m going to file my report, and in three months, if you’re so inclined, we’ll see about fostering another kid here.”

  Mrs. Templeton’s true colors began to fly. “Is this some sort of pay back?” she asked, reaching out and grabbing a hold of his shirt.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Are you punishing me for getting rid of the demon?”

  “Listen, I have three nephews. I know raising them can be difficult, my sister tells me all the time, and sometimes they are hellions. I’m just saying maybe you’re a little burnt out, you’ve been fostering non-stop for close to fourteen years. Maybe you just need a break is all I’m saying.”

  “I can handle kids,” she said angrily as her eyebrows furrowed. “Callis is possessed.”

  “You mean that quiet girl that’s sitting in my van?” Danny asked, pulling the curtain back so they could see her.

  “That very one! She had my baby dancing around like a puppet!”

  “Mrs. Templeton I want you to end this conversation, or I am going to have to recommend that you have a psyche eval clearance before you are allowed to foster again…and I will have to take Frankie and Becky with me.”

  Mrs. Templeton was starting to shake with rage and impotence. “Just take that little bitch from my property and send me another little brat in three months. Now get out.”

  “Always a pleasure,” Danny told her as he walked out of the house. He hated the system; she was actually one of the better ones – light years above where he had to bring Callis on such short notice.

  “I can’t stay?” Callis asked with pleading eyes as Danny got in.

  He wanted to tell her she was better off leaving, but she wasn’t. He shook his head curtly and started the van. Callis stared blankly out the window.

  She broke down crying, quiet tears streaked her face as they left.

  They drove the forty-five minutes in silence to Fort Morgan. When they pulled up, Callis hoped that the van had broken down. The foster home looked like it had been sheltering crack addicts for the last two years. A fair amount of the windows were broken and boarded and a tagger with limited skills had plastered the name ‘Ranchero’ all across the front façade.

  A mangy cat sat on the top step of the porch, its flea infested tail slowly swept from side to side as it watched them stop. Danny’s heart tugged as he watched Callis’ expression. She said nothing as he walked around and opened her door.

  “This is only temporary,” he told her.

  “Someone lives here?” Callis questioned, clutching her bag to her body.

  The wail of multiple disgruntled babies or cats in heat emanated from behind one of the pieces of nailed-on plywood.

  “Callis, I hate leaving you here. She’s not a bad person at heart, in some ways, maybe even better than Mrs. Templeton.”

  Callis winced.

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I can’t, Danny, because I’m not so sure myself.” And she wasn’t, she remembered sending a small piece of herself out of her body and into the baby and then it was like she was at the controls. At first it had been difficult trying to figure out how to make things move, and then the more she did it, the easier it got. But she had never meant the baby any harm; he looked like he was having as much fun as she was. Like he was amazed at what he was doing. The only plus being that since she had somewhat controlled herself, her nose hardly bled at all.

  “Listen, kiddo, what I’m about to do breaks at least a half dozen rules and maybe a law or two…I’m not sure. But I’m going to give you my personal cell phone number if you ever need something, like if you’re in trouble or you just want to talk, please call me. Okay?” He stared intently at her.

  She nodded slightly.

  “Alright, let’s go then,” he said as he grabbed her bag.

  He placed his hand on her back and gently guided her up the creaking stairs. The cat hissed as they walked by, Callis didn’t even notice. The door flew open a dirty boy around the age of eight ran past Callis and Danny, a thrown shoe in close pursuit. The shoe thudded to a halt but the boy didn’t stop until he had reached the corner of the street. He looked back to see if he was being chased. The boy stuck his tongue out at the duo watching him.

  “Where is that vermin?” a lady that looked like she was suffering the same malady as the cat asked. Her face had the caved-in quality that riddled so many other drug addicts. Her skin was an unsavory yellow, her fingernails chewed to the quick, the jagged edges of which were used to scratch open the sores that covered her arms. “I’ll skin you’re hide!” she yelled to the boy from the stoop. “What do you want?” she asked Danny suspiciously.

  “Hello, Mrs. Renfro. It’s me…Danny. We talked on the phone earlier this afternoon about Callis,” he said as he patted Callis’ back.

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Listen, none of us are stupid here except mayb
e the girl. I don’t know anything about her yet. You’ve had enough agents out here to know who I am, hell some even asked about the paraphernalia I had out. The only kids you dump off here are the ones that nobody else wants. That little pecker over there keeps taking shits in the corners of rooms, won’t use a bathroom to save his skin. I locked him up in the downstairs bathroom for two days. He came out and shit on my living room rug”

  “We have counselors that could talk to him or to you as well.” Danny interjected.

  “Do I look like I want my life altered? And as long as I don’t step in any of it, well then screw it I suppose. Speaking of malcontents, last month had a girl here damn near gave me a heart attack. Every night at exactly 1:27 in the morning, whether she was awake or asleep, would just start screaming bloody murder like the devil himself was raping her ass. Made her drink a fifth of vodka to shut her up. She still woke up screaming and then she vomited all over the bed. Looked like the damn...what was that movie? Exorcist, yeah Exorcist…now I need the money for my habit, but I can’t take any more kids like that.”

  “Callis is not a troubled youth, Mrs. Renfro. I explained to you that this is a temporary measure. The home she was in had an unexpected change in plans and when I had to find some place quickly, your number came up,” Danny explained.

  Mrs. Renfro eyed them both suspiciously.

  “Do you shit yourself, girl?” she asked Callis. Danny cringed, thinking this was where he was going to drop the poor kid off.

  “Maybe when I was a baby, but certainly not in the last ten or so years,” Callis said defiantly.

  “What about screaming?”

  “I’m sure I did when I was a kid.”

  “Fine. Give me the check, Denny. My connection comes by in about a half an hour.”

  “Danny.” He corrected.

  Danny handed the prerequisite check over and attempted to do the same with Callis’ copied case file.

  Mrs. Renfro looked at the file. “Really?”

  He pulled it back in. “Callis, I’ll stay in touch,” he told her. He walked away making sure not to turn around. He had learned that only made the process much more difficult on him.

  “Go drop your crap wherever you want to sleep, then don’t bother me and we’ll get along fabulously,” Mrs. Renfro told Callis right before the front door shut.

  Chapter 5

  The day Callis turned twelve, Mrs. Renfro died from a hot round of heroin mainlined into her veins. She watched the drug-ravaged woman taking her final breaths. She had smiled wanly at Callis as she released her soul. At that point, Callis thought about just leaving. Who would know? But it all came back to where would she go? If she had a long lost aunt or uncle out there, her parents had never talked about them. Her grandparents on her mother’s side had both died before Callis was born from something horrific, but she had never found out what.

  Her dad’s parents were older when they had him. She had met them both a few times and remembered their passing by the tears her father had shed. She had only seen him cry twice in her life and both times had been on the days his parents died – first his father and then his mother.

  Callis walked over to the body and prodded her to see if she was indeed dead. She was amazed at how quickly Mrs. Renfro was cooling off. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye as she stood back up. Erik (the indoor shitter) had gotten under the dining room table. He dropped his pants and was about to unload his newest creation.

  Without consciously thinking about it Callis reached out and took hold of him. He smacked his head hard as she tried to stand him up. She seized his bowels and clamped his sphincter tight. His eyes darted towards her as she crab walked him out from under the table and sent him shuffling with his pants down towards the front door, his eyes pleading with her to stop.

  “I’ve been cleaning your shit up for a year. You want to crap like a dog, you’ll go outside and do it!” She was shaking – whether from fear or from rage she wasn’t sure.

  Erik walked outside and down the steps and once again squatted, this time by the side of the house.

  “Look at that little cracker!” someone outside yelled to his friend. “Oh no, I think he’s taking a shit outside! Oh I got to get this on video, I’ll get a million hits on YouTube!”

  “Get your ass inside, boy!” an older woman yelled.

  Callis watched the spectacle from the window, careful not to be seen, but all eyes were on Erik. “Serves you right,” she said. She turned and the hold on the boy was released. He had just finished up, his face flushed as a small crowd had gathered to watch his public display of toiletry, more than one shooting video in the hopes to make it an internet viral sensation.

  “Oh this just keeps getting better!” the first man said as Erik, in his haste to retreat from the scene, fell over face first getting wrapped up in his pants. He had excrement all over the lower half of himself.

  Callis heard the boy run back into the house and up the stairs. She thought she might feel sorry for him when he started to cry, but try as she might, she couldn’t muster the feeling necessary to care. It was twenty minutes later when Fort Morgan’s finest showed up on the doorstep. Callis let them in and showed them Mrs. Renfro’s body.

  Danny showed up an hour later to pick her and Erik up.

  “What is that smell?” he asked as the kids got in the van.

  Erik quickly shot a glance at Callis.

  “You said Mrs. Renfro’s was temporary,” Callis said as she buckled herself in the front seat.

  Danny looked over at her. The gaze she gave him was worse than the smell that assailed his nostrils. It was the look of the dismayed; a piece of her had been removed. She was hardening; he had seen so many kids in the system go down that path.

  “There are too many kids and not enough foster parents,” Danny said lamely.

  “I would have been better off on my own.” She turned back to the front and didn’t say another word for the majority of the ride. Neither did Erik, which was unusual. As a kid with attention deficit disorder, he was generally talking a mile a minute about everything and nothing under the sun, at the same time.

  “Where are we going?” Callis asked after about a half an hour of silence.

  “Actually kind of close to your old home…Aurora,” he told her.

  “Where’s he going?” she asked without looking back. Her nose had not bled, but she had a headache that she thought might rip her brain in two.

  “With you,” he told her, looking over to gauge her reaction. It didn’t look like his answer was sitting well with her.

  “I promise I’ll use the bathroom from now on, I swear,” he told Callis.

  “I know,” she told him, once again not turning.

  They pulled up to their next house. It was an older style Tudor. However, it was very well maintained. The lawn was perfect, the house appeared as if it had been painted a few months ago, the bushes in front were carefully manicured. The lawn furniture on the wrap around deck was carefully placed; and yet, to Callis, the perfection seemed to be hiding something imperfect.

  His name was Dom Capilio. A man that looked as if he took his fitness seriously walked out the door, his broad smile outlined with a pencil-thin moustache. His hair was slicked back with oil and his clothes looked a size too tight.

  “Looks like a used car salesman,” Danny said as he quickly glanced at the family’s foster file trying to figure out why he felt a film of sleaze descend over him as he looked upon the man. The file was thin – the Capilio’s had never had foster kids…or kids of their own he noted. They had, however, scored high on the questionnaire. That didn’t mean anything; it only meant that they knew the right answers to give.

  Callis’ head was down as she walked up the walkway. Danny watched as Mr. Capilio leered at her. Sara Capilio came out next; she was all genuine smiles as she bounded down the stairs.

  “Welcome,” she said enthusiastically as she gave a hug to a rigid Callis. Sara came up short as she approac
hed Erik. “Goodness gracious you smell.”

  “I had an accident,” he told her sheepishly.

  “Well let’s get you cleaned up,” she told him and started to guide the boy into the house. Callis was right behind them.

  “I can give the boy a bath,” Dom said, looking the youth over.

  “I’m sure he’s old enough to clean himself up. Aren’t you?” she asked him, still smiling, and then they were in.

  Danny thought it was genuine enough, but he’d been duped more than once. The way Dom was staring at those kids gave him the willies. He made the man break his gaze as he stood in front of him. Immediately Dom snapped on a more appropriate countenance, like he knew he had been caught…or nearly so.

  “Kids sure are precious, aren’t they?” he asked. “I mean that’s why Sara and I got into fostering in the first place.”

  “Is that so?” Danny asked.

  “You know it!” Dom said just a tad too enthusiastically. “Me and the wifey have been trying to have kids for a couple of years you know, but apparently I’m shooting blanks, if you catch my meaning,” he said, backhanding Danny’s arm.

  Danny could almost feel the contaminant from the contact spreading down his arm.

  “Although we try just about every night. I mean, I figure eventually I’m going to come upon a live one,” he said, eyeballing Danny for his reaction. “Sheer odds, right?” He was smiling out the side of his mouth.

  “I guess.”

  “Are these kids sensitive?”

  “Sensitive?” Danny asked for clarification.

  “I mean me and the wife…we really go at it. I mean loud, I get her moaning all the time. When we first started dating I used to have to put my hand over her mouth so her parents wouldn’t hear us screwing. Now, with our own house, man, she just lets loose. And I’m no slouch, I like to let her know how good she’s making me feel.” He punctuated his words with a pelvic thrust.

  “Well, you have kids in the house now. You might want to tone it down a bit.”

  “Right, right. That makes sense, kids in the house. Don’t want them hearing me yell, ‘I’m coming!’” Then he laughed again.

 

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