by S. C. Ellen
“Mo..mma.” My voice is hoarse and dry, and in desperate need of water. My eyes glaze over at the burned home I once knew that held everything I ever loved, now gone and soon forgotten.
Six years old
New York City
I jolt out of bed with a scream. I am covered in sweat and crying profusely. It’s the same nightmare every night.
“Not this again!” one of the boys I live with at the orphanage yells out.
I ignore him and lie awake until the early hours of the morning, when it’s time for everyone to wake up.
At breakfast, the mean lady who works here says there’s a man who’s supposed to come visit me today. I don’t like strangers, and I don’t like talking to them either. At first, mean lady thought it was because I didn’t speak any English, but I do. It was the second language Momma ever taught me. She always made me read and study. Languages, math, and science came easy to me. At school, my teachers call me smart because I know more than the average second-grader. They want to place me in fourth-grade classes but won’t because they said I’m “mute.” I don’t have any friends because they make fun of me when I have a nightmare and wet the bed. My only friend is my little sister, and I barely ever get to see her.
After the men took us away from home, we were in the hospital for a long time. The doctor gave Rosa and me a lot of shots, and said it was a miracle we were not dead. I don’t know what dead means, but one time, Momma told me that when a good person dies, they sleep forever in heaven. I hope Momma and Poppa are in heaven.
The man said he was going to send us to a place called America, and that he knew somebody who was going to help us. I don’t like America, and I don’t want anyone else to help us. I just want to go to wherever Momma and Poppa are.
“Come here, mute.” My fists clench at the name, so I ignore it and continue to play with my tower of blocks. “I know you hear me, boy.” I cringe at that nickname also.
Mean lady stands by the door with her hands folded across her chubby stomach. She clears her throat, and I begrudgingly follow her out into the hallway.
“Now, be on your best behavior, mute. None of your nonsense today, you hear me? I want you out of here as soon as possible.”
I ignore her and continue to walk into her old, smelly office. The first thing I see is a big, stocky man with a funny black mustache. A smile begins to form on his face once I walk in.
“Hello, Mr. Pentalini. I believe this is who you’ve been looking for.” Mean lady takes a seat at her desk, grinning ear to ear with that fake smile of hers.
The man very cautiously approaches, lowering to his knee to get eye level with me. “Do you know who I am, son?”
I stare blankly at him, not responding, so he continues, “I’m a friend of your Momma and Poppa’s.”
My ears perk up at the mention of them.
“Do you have a name?” he asks.
The mean lady answers for me, holding out a piece of paper for the man to read. “He and his sister were both dropped off on our doorstep with nothing more than that makeshift document to identify them with.”
He clicks his finger against his mouth as he reads it. “Carson, Carson Granvil,” he says out loud. I nod my head. I like that name, not mute. I hate mute. “Nice to meet you, Carson, I’m Vincenzo, but you can call me Vinny.”
A second man makes his way into the room holding Rosa. I don’t like any men touching her, so I immediately get angry, pushing on the man’s leg.
“Woah there…easy, little man. I’m not going to hurt her.” I don’t believe him, so I continue my assault anyway until he sits her on the floor, and she crawls to me.
I hold her tightly against my chest in a corner.
“Poor boy’s been through a lot.” The Vinny man sighs. “Could you give us a minute?” he asks mean lady, and she steps out quickly.
“We found them, Vin, now what do we do?” The skinny man takes a seat on one of the sofas.
“I don’t know, Tony. These poor children, I have no idea.” Vinny runs a hand down his face, looking tired.
“Margret always wanted a little girl, you know. With her health declining, though, I don’t think we’d be able to take on both.”
Vinny stares at the man. “We can’t separate them, Tony. They’re all they have.”
Both men notice that I’m listening and begin to talk in lower voices until I can’t hear them at all.
Rosa giggles when she grabs on to a piece of my hair. I kiss her cheek and give her a genuine smile that is only shared with her.
After a while, the two men step out of the room and come back in with mean lady holding a stack of papers.
“Just sign here, and it’s done!” she cheers.
The skinny man grabs little sister from my arms and gives Vinny a slight nod, leaving the room. I put up a strong fight, but it was to no use. Rosa was gone.
Vinny grabs ahold of my arm and leads me back to the room that I share with eleven other boys. “Grab your stuff, Carson, we’re leaving, okay?”
I have no idea what stuff he’s talking about because I have no stuff. Everything I have is shared. Even my clothes aren’t mine. He stares at me sadly.
“Let’s go, son.”
I’m hesitant to leave. I was finally used to a place, and I’m leaving again. It isn’t fair, and I’m not going to leave baby sister. I stop midstep and shake my head ‘no.’
He sighs and gets on one knee again. “I promise I won’t hurt you, Carson. Your little sister isn’t here anymore; she is with a good family, like you will be. I have a son who’s your age, and a little daughter. You’ll have your own room and everything you’ll ever want. Doesn’t that sound good?”
I shake my head ‘no.’ I don’t want to leave again. I like my school, and I like my teachers. I hate always moving. Why can’t I just stay in one place? Why can’t I go with baby sister? Why is everything being taken away from me? Is God mad at me?
Vinny lifts my chin, looking into my tearful expression. “Do you like New York, Carson? Do you wish to stay here?”
I gently nod.
“Well, then, okay. How about something to eat, though? You hungry, kid?” I nod again, and with that, I hop in the back of a long black Cadillac with Vinny next to me, making so many calls I lose count after ten.
Carson
Five years later
New York City
Vinny stopped asking me if I wanted to see Rosa. I don’t want to know where she is or even see a picture. It seems like every woman in my life ends up either hurt or dead, and I don’t want to put that on her more than I already have. All I want to know is that she’s safe and happy, and apparently, she is, so that’s good enough for me. Stephanie, the nanny Vinny hired to raise me while he was gone, just recently passed, too. She was an old hoarding woman, but she was nice to me. She didn’t give up on me when I refused to talk, and she was patient. I found her a few months ago, when the alarm for school woke me up but didn’t wake her.
Vinny asked me multiple times if I wanted to come and live with him and his family in Michigan, but I refused. I don’t want to be a burden on them like my existence already is.
Vinny put me in a fancy boarding school, and I don’t mind it too much. The work’s more challenging, but I like it because it takes my mind off of things.
He once told me that it was okay if I referred to him as ‘Dad.’ He said, of course, he could never replace my real father, but he wouldn’t mind, if it made me feel better.
It wouldn’t.
He doesn’t ask me if I want to meet his family anymore, because the answer is always the same. I just can’t poison his good family like I did mine. So instead, he tells me lots of stories about his family, especially ones about his daughter Alayna. I like when he tells me stories about her, they sometimes keep my bad thoughts away.
He also shows me lots of pictures of them. His son is the spitting image of him, and his wife is very pretty. He says I remind him a lot like his son, Jase. I’m a yea
r older than him, but he thinks we would be the best of friends. I don’t think so, because no one wants to be my friend.
His daughter, however, is what I imagine an angel would look like in real life. Every picture he has of her she’s always in beautiful princess dresses, and she has a goofy smile on her face that makes me smile looking at it. Vinny knows I like when he brings pictures of her, so he does it often. One picture in particular that I like very much is one Vinny carries around in his wallet. It was Halloween from a few years ago, and she was dressed up like an angel. It’s like she knew exactly what she is to me, and what I think of her to be. I took it from his wallet and have kept it hidden from him ever since. I allowed myself to be selfish that one time, and that one time only.
Vinny teaches me a lot about the Bible, and how to be a good Catholic. He baptized me and signed me up for communion. Whenever Vinny comes to visit, we always go to Sunday mass, and then we get the best cannoli on Fifth Street. I really like Vinny, and I pray to God every day that he doesn’t take him away from me.
It’s parent-teacher conference day at school today, and Vinny is flying in from Michigan for it. He visits every few weeks, checking up on me, giving me money and everything else that I need.
Today he said if all is well at school, I could finally get the new Gameboy that just came out. Of course, I’m passing every class with an A, so as soon as we leave here, I know Vinny will have my present wrapped up, waiting for me in his car.
“Hey, orphan, how does it feel knowing that it’s parent-teacher day and you don’t have a mom or dad to come for it?” a snickering kid known as Tommy shouts out as I pass by him through the hallway. Kids all over laugh out loud with him, causing me to clench my fists together in anger. Word got out as soon as I got here. Apparently, some paperwork got into the hands of a snooty parent, and not even Vinny’s influence could have stopped the gossip from happening. I decide to ignore it and keep on walking to my next class. I’m used to the whispers and the questions the other kids ask about me, but everyone just thinks I’m the strange boy in class who rarely ever talks, so I’ve never been confronted about it, until today.
“Hey, shithead, did you hear me? Where’s your mommy and daddy? Did they leave you in the street because they couldn’t stand to look at your stupid face?”
I immediately stop walking and turn around to face the boy who is clearly unafraid of me. The chunky ginger is grinning from ear to ear, leaning against his locker. His posse of followers and a group of other kids start to form around me, waiting for my response.
My jaw tics, and my knuckles turn a violent shade of white at my sides. “Cat got your tongue?” he pokes again, coming up to my face. “How does it feel knowing that your parents left you all alone? They must have hated your stupid little guts…”
Images that I thought were buried deep inside my brain resurface full force, threatening the blood in my veins to boil over at the sight of them.
“…or wanted you for dead.”
I must’ve blacked out at the moment, because all I see when I calm down is red blood spewing from the unconscious kid on the floor, and my hand covered in blood that isn’t my own. I’m pinned and held back against the chest of a teacher, while everyone around me is stunned into silence. Even I’m stunned at my own actions. Breathing heavily, I feel myself start to come down from a strange sensation that I have never felt before. Satisfaction courses throughout my body seeing the damage I did to the kid’s face, and the scared looks of the other children. I feel like how I did when I’ve had too much sugar, but at least ten times more hyper. It’s like all my pent-up anger simply vanished at the feel of my fist connecting with bone, and I want more of it.
I struggle in the grasp of the teacher’s arms to get another go at it. However, my body immediately tenses up when I feel the firm grasp of a hand I’m all too familiar with grab onto my shoulder. Dread washes over me as I peer up at Vinny who has a serious look on his face that I’ve never seen before.
“Come with me, Carson.” His voice is low and authoritative.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Pentalini, but he needs to go to the principal’s office right now! He just assaulted this boy!” The teacher attempts to pull me toward the office.
Vinny shakes the teacher off of me. “You don’t need to pull him like he’s a prisoner in this situation. My son is more than capable of walking.”
My face is like stone, but seeing the stark gaze across Vinny’s face causes uneasiness to sit inside of me. I never wanted to disappoint Vinny, not only from the fear of him leaving and me ending up back in the system, but because part of me looks up to Vinny as a person I want to be for my future.
We make it into the office. “You sit here, Carson, and you do not move. You understand me?”
I nod my head.
“Words, Carson. Use your words. You are not a mute.”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper, looking up at him. He nods once, motioning for the teacher to join him in the principal’s office.
I sit there staring at the floor, itching to go back to fight that stupid kid again. How dare he talk about my parents. No one talks about my parents. Not even me.
I’m so caught up in my anger, I don’t even realize I’m not alone until a voice speaks up next to me.
“What are you in for?”
I peer up at a blond, chubby-looking kid who has a wide and toothy grin.
I ignore him because I don’t care to answer him, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing to talk to me anyway.
“Haven’t seen you in here before,” the kid begins, laughing to himself. “I would know, I’m in here every day.”
I stay silent, confused as to why he’s still trying to talk to me, usually people get the hint and leave me alone.
“You would think putting a whoopy cushion on your P.E. teacher’s seat would be a harmless joke, but nooo, Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass wanted to make a big deal out of it and sent me to the principal’s office for it.” He shakes his head, “I thought it was hilarious.”
The lady at the front desk tsks, “And what about the frog he found floating in his coffee this morning, Elliot?”
The Elliot kid beams up at her with another goofy grin. “Not my fault the class pet looked like he needed to go for a swim. It just so happened he chose to go into Mr. Westin’s morning cup of joe.”
A weird sensation rolls its way up my throat, and for the second time today, I experience another strange emotion. I would’ve thought I was dreaming by how quick it occurred, but it happened.
Confused as to what it might be, I realize right then that it’s something I’d forgotten how to do.
Laugh. A laugh works its way up my throat. I dislike Mr. Westin, as well, and I secretly wish I could have seen his face when it all went down.
“What’s your name?” he asks, turning to me.
“Carson,” I reply a bit hoarsely. I’m not too comfortable with talking much yet, especially with people who weren’t Vinny, but it makes him happy when I do, and I like making Vinny happy. Unlike now.
“Wait!” Elliot’s eyes bugged wide, “You’re the kid who smashed that ginger kid’s face in! Shit! That was awesome, man. I’ve been wanting to do that for years!”
“Language, Elliot James!” the lady at the front desk scolds.
The door to the office suddenly opens, and out walks Vinny shaking hands with the head principal.
“Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Carson?” he asks once he approaches us.
Before I can respond, Elliot jumps out of the chair. “The ladies call me Elliot…. Elliot James,” he mocks, sounding more grown up than he really is. He turns around with a thumbs up. “Catch you around, new friend. Now let’s get this over with, Principal Knoxsin. What are you thinking, detention or lunchroom duty for the week?” he jokes, disappearing into the office.
“Well, then.” Vinny’s eyes trail off to where Elliot has left, as do mine, voicing the word Friend over again in my mind. Hmmm. I never had one of
those.
“Let’s go,” Vinny’s voice interrupts, and with no questions asked, I follow him out into the parking lot and into his car. He seems to be lost in thought, running a hand across his face, not starting the car just yet.
Vinny hits the side of his steering wheel, swearing to himself, and startling me a bit.
“I’m sorry,” I begin, not sure how to go about it, but sure not ready for Vinny’s reaction.
If Vinny was angry before, he looks about ten times angrier now. “Sorry? That little shit deserved everything he got today.” He turns toward me as shock registers through my brain. “Those things I heard him say to you…” He trails off, shaking his head in anger. “He damn right deserved it.”
Surprise must be as clear as day on my face. “But I thought…”
“You thought I was going to be mad at you? Disown you? Send you back into the system?” My no response is answer enough. He bitterly laughs. “It’s going to take a lot more than you standing up for yourself, and me being sure as shit proud of you, for me to ever send you back there, son.”
“Proud?” I ask, confused.
“Yes, Carson, proud.” I sit in the passenger seat stunned into silence, not expecting this reaction whatsoever. Contentment settles through me, knowing I made Vinny proud. I never had anyone be proud of me before, and the fact that I could make him proud has me feeling even better than I did while I was fighting. Vinny then goes on, sharing some words of wisdom that I will carry with me for the rest of my life: “Listen to me, and listen to me carefully, son. Never. Ever. Let another man have even the slightest chance to speak bad about you, or make you look weak. You understand me?” he asks sternly, “Many will try, and you will have to teach them a lesson they will never dream of forgetting and set the example for others not to ever even think about messing with you. You got that? Never let them steal the power you control. No matter what you do, you always have the upper hand.”
