Yesterday's Gone: Seasons 1-6 Complete Saga

by Sean Platt

  But she was holding on to the back of Boricio like he was the buckle of a belt.

  “Let me go, you dumb bitch!” Boricio cried.

  Ricky’s mom didn’t say a word. She dragged him across the yard, and then the street, until he was standing on his bottle-littered porch while Ricky’s mom pounded her tired knuckles on the broken screen.

  Boricio’s mom was at the door a moment later, eyes bloodshot, hair hanging in damp and clumpy ribbons. The smell of cat piss and burning plastic poured from the house.

  Ricky’s mom was screaming so loud, Boricio could barely make out a word she was saying, and wasn’t sure how much his mom would be able to gather. She sure looked like she had a problem standing there listening, though she knew she couldn’t leave.

  “You’re raising a monster!”

  ”He almost killed my son!”

  “How can he do that? They’re friends!”

  “I’m calling CPS immediately!”

  “You all deserve to get locked up!”

  The last thing Ricky’s mom said before throwing Boricio through the doorway and marching back to her house was, “Your boy is broken.”

  Broken? That would explain a lot.

  Boricio’s mom slammed the door and slapped him across the face. “You think I need this shit now?” she yelled, her face as red as her eyes.

  Boricio didn’t cry, but he did fall to the floor and crawl backward toward the kitchen. She was wearing the look that meant his body was gonna hurt real bad, real soon. At least it wasn’t Joe. Joe was worse. Much worse. Most of the time his mom protected Boricio from Joe, kept him safe from the worst of his temper. Kept him out of the dark room, away from the hotplate, safe from the baseball bat. But tonight, Boricio might not be so lucky.

  “Just wait until your father gets home!” his mother screamed, her foot landing smack in the middle of Boricio’s crumpled body. He cried. She said, “You don’t have anything to cry about you crazy, cocksucking parasite!” She finished her sentence with a hard kick to her son’s side. Boricio felt like he was bleeding inside instead of out. The doctor had said that was the most dangerous kind.

  His mother kept kicking him and screaming: “You dumb shit, diarrhea for brains, more trouble than you’re worth, stupid sonofabitch! I will NOT be yelled at, and I will NOT be humiliated, and I will NOT be threatened. That dumb bitch outside did all three. Because of you!”

  She stopped kicking and Boricio stayed in a pile crying. She said, “That’s nothing, Bo. You wait until Joe gets home. He’s gonna make sure you’re sorrier than a skinned cat.” Then she left the room, slamming the door so hard that a picture frame hanging in the living room fell and broke. The picture was the last school picture taken of Boricio, way back in kindergarten.

  “Fuuuuck!” his mother screamed.

  The smell of cat piss and burning plastic bled through the crack beneath her door and spread like a fog through the house.

  Boricio thought about leaving since home was the last place in the world he’d want to be when Joe got home. But Boricio had no idea where he could go. He didn’t have any food or money, and the farthest he’d ever been out of the neighborhood was to school a couple of miles away. Leaving the house would be scary, but less scary than whatever his mom would do once she opened the door, and a world better than Joe.

  Boricio cried harder, thinking about what would happen when Joe walked in the door.

  Once he could breathe again, he went to the kitchen and took the four packs of Ramen from the cupboard and put them in his backpack, along with two cans of Shasta, a box of powdered potatoes, and some mustard. He added a change of clothes, then turned on the TV to think. His mom would be in her room for another couple of hours, at least. He had at least six before Joe came home. That gave him at least an hour to think.

  Boricio watched a rerun of Family Ties and wondered how much of it was bullshit. Sure wasn’t like any family he had ever seen. That, and The Cosby Show. French fried fucking lies, as his mom would say.

  Boricio figured that maybe life could be all happy, funny, and loving like it was on TV, if he could get to a place where it still looked like it did in the old days. Maybe if he was lucky, he’d find a family like that one day. Boricio had a few teachers who told him he was smart. The same teachers who stared at him with big, sad eyes when they asked him what was wrong at home. It was the only question he never answered. The teachers were right, Boricio was smart. He wasn’t about to fink on Joe and wind up six feet under.

  Family Ties ended, and Boricio stood from the couch, turned off the TV, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and headed toward the door. Halfway there, he turned back and grabbed the White Pages from beneath the phone that had been disconnected three months earlier. Enough people had used the words child, protective, and services together for Boricio to know that maybe someone there could help him.

  He thumbed through the C pages, found what he was looking for, and then tore the page from the book and shoved it in his pack.

  The other side of his mom’s door was still silent. Boricio figured it was now or never, then crept toward the front door. Joe opened it before he could.

  Boricio’s heart nearly exploded in his chest, and the look on his face must’ve been all guilt, because Joe stared at him hard.

  Joe wanted to know where Boricio was headed off to with the backpack, and when he opened it up to a change of clothes and Ramen, plus the paper with hotline numbers for CPS, his eyes went blacker than black, which meant he was about to get meaner than mean.

  Boricio cried, “NO!” then turned and ran as fast as he could. Joe was faster, grabbing Boricio by the neck and throwing him to the floor.

  Boricio’s mom opened her bedroom door and even though she threatened punishment, she begged for Joe to stop.

  But it was too late.

  It was always too late once you let the monster out.

  Fifty-Six

  Luca Harding

  Kingsland, Alabama

  The Sanctuary

  March 27

  Morning

  Two days after Will left

  Luca looked across to Paola, sitting in the back of the room at the desk beside him, obviously uncomfortable in the long, dark-blue dress she’d been forced to wear after Mary decided they would stay at The Sanctuary.

  Luca didn’t mind his change in clothes, wearing dark slacks and a long-sleeve, light-blue shirt with suspenders; it made him feel more like he matched the body life made him wear.

  “This looks like a children’s classroom,” Paola whispered. “I’d rather be washing dishes and cleaning.”

  “It’s all ages,” Luca said.

  “Shh,” 11-year-old Tammy Watson whispered from up front, casting a nasty look back to Paola and Luca, even though the teacher had yet to arrive.

  Paola stuck her tongue out. Tammy’s eyes widened as if Paola had said the F-word.

  Though the classroom was on the bottom floor of the children’s house, the room’s interior looked just like a schoolroom, complete with a chalkboard, chairs with desks attached, and colorful pictures on the wall. There were six kids in the classroom other than Luca and Paola, ranging from ages 6 to 15. There were 20 chair/desk combos in the room, and though Luca usually sat up front, he followed Paola to the back of the class. It was her first day, and he didn’t want her to feel alone.

  “So, what do you do all day? Learn Bible stuff?” Paola whispered.

  “Yeah, and regular math, and English stuff,” Luca said. “It’s not bad.”

  “Ugh, you’re one of those kids who liked school, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, didn’t you?”

  Paola rolled her eyes, “Um, nooo.”

  The teacher, Ms. Autumn, a young brunette with a pretty smile and beautiful blue eyes, arrived just after 8, apologizing for being late.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “I was helping Sister Theresa with something. Good morning, class.”

  “Good morning, Ms. Autumn,” the children s
aid in chorus.

  Paola looked at Luca with narrowed eyes, “Oooooh, I see why you like school so much; you have a crush on the teach.”

  Luca went red-faced at the accusation, and was about to deny it when Ms. Autumn said, “Ah, we have a new student, Miss Paola Olson. Say hello to Paola, class.”

  “Hello, Paola,” they all said, including Luca, who giggled while doing so. Tammy Watson shot Paola a dirty look as she said her hello.

  “Why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself, Paola?” Ms. Autumn said.

  Paola went from jaded to shy in seconds, “I dunno, I’m 12. I’m from Warson Woods Missouri. And I like hanging out with friends, going to the mall, and playing video games. Well, I did, anyway.”

  “Welcome to our class, Paola, we’re glad to have you,” Ms. Autumn said as she sat. “Now, let’s begin with our morning prayer, shall we?”

  Paola gave Luca a weird look as he folded his hands and closed his eyes. He didn’t remember the prayer, but he kept his mouth moving as though he knew every word. He peeked over at Paola, grimacing through the prayer, and smiled. She opened her eyes and caught him, then furrowed her eyebrows in playful anger, which made him almost giggle out loud.

  He closed his eyes, since he didn’t want to erupt in a laughing fit and get in trouble.

  As Ms. Autumn began talking about the day’s lessons, Luca found his mind drifting to Will, and wondering if he was okay. Luca hadn’t seen Will since he left two days earlier, in real life or in his dreams. He hoped he was okay.

  Though Luca was sad Will had left, things had been running smoothly at The Sanctuary ever since.

  Desmond and Mary told John and Brother Rei that they would stay at The Sanctuary, a decision Luca knew they’d been fighting about, from the snippets of conversations, and thoughts, he’d overheard, though he never intended to eavesdrop. Once they made their decision, they were all given new clothes like the rest of the people wore.

  Now that they were officially part of The Sanctuary, Luca noticed that people were thinking less bad things about him and the others. They were starting to accept them, though some people, like Tammy, didn’t care for them at all. Tammy, Luca had discovered while accidentally tuning into her thoughts, was jealous of Paola’s beauty. Luca thought it was odd, considering that Tammy was pretty. But she was blonde and pale, and secretly craved to have Paola’s olive skin and dark hair. Tammy’s nastiness was almost an obsessive string of thoughts. Thankfully, Luca was now learning to tune out people’s thoughts.

  When Luca first began hearing other people’s thoughts, the voices poured through like a whole bunch of radio stations all tuned in at once, and it was too much. Now, when he wanted to, he was able to tune out everyone completely and stay in his mind with his own thoughts. He didn’t like the constant chatter and negative thoughts of others. Now, however, Luca was tempted as he watched Paola doodling on a piece of paper and ignoring Ms. Autumn, to get in her head and hear what she was thinking.

  Things had been weird between them since he started talking to Rebecca, even though Paola had no idea that Luca was hanging out with her every night in the little trips he took outside his body. Nobody but Will, and Rebecca, knew he could do that.

  Things had already been weird between them since he saved Scott. Once he grew physically so much older than Paola, she started acting different. Maybe she sensed he had a crush on her, and wasn’t sure how to respond. He was, after all, really 8, and not the 16 years his body now appeared. The whole thing was weird, and Luca noticed how even Mary and Desmond looked at him different, like they didn’t want him being friends with her anymore. They were afraid he’d have sex with her. While Luca’s knowledge of sex was extremely limited, he couldn’t deny that the body change caused him to think about girls a lot more. Not to mention, he was always “popping boners,” as Jimmy had called it.

  Last night, when Luca and Paola were joking after dinner, Luca heard Mary’s thoughts, even though he wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

  Don’t you dare make a move on my daughter.

  Luca heard the thought, clear as if it had been his own. He turned to Mary, and caught her staring at him. A moment passed between them, and she quickly turned, as if she knew he’d heard her thought.

  He left her head, but not before he felt something. It wasn’t in words, but rather an emotion — fear . . . of him.

  Luca liked Mary; he thought of her like a mom, almost. So, her fear of him made him sad. He didn’t want to be the target for her Mama Bear rage, and was offended that she felt that way about him, like you might an outsider. They’d known each other for months, and Luca thought he’d earned more trust from Mary.

  Besides, Luca didn’t even feel the same about Paola anymore. Not since Rebecca, anyway.

  Even though Rebecca was locked in the box outside, he felt as if she’d been by his side nearly every night.

  Over the course of the past few nights, they’d journeyed to the mountain, his home, a lake she used to swim in, and even Disney World, or at least the version informed by TV and painted by Luca’s imagination. They even went on rides, and though it couldn’t possibly have been real, it felt real to them. Though Rebecca was locked in a cold box with barely any food or water all day, she was having the time of her life when she closed her eyes at night.

  Luca felt like they’d known each other for years, not days. In many ways, Rebecca, at 13, was closer to Luca’s age, than Paola, who seemed way older than her 12 years, and was growing more jaded by the day.

  Rebecca would be freed from the box after her week was up, and Luca couldn’t wait to finally see her in person. But he was also afraid. Once she got out of the box, her mother, and the others, would surely be keeping a close eye on her. If she even talked to a boy, let alone Luca — the outsider — they might both wind up in boxes.

  Luca tried not to think about the stuff that would stop him from enjoying his time with Rebecca. Even if they had to spend the next year together only in their connected dreams that weren’t really dreams, it was a lot better than nothing. Luca wasn’t sure what romantic love was like, or if it was possible to feel it so quickly for someone — someone you technically didn’t even know in person — but he felt something for Rebecca. If it wasn’t love, it had sure fooled his heart.

  So, why am I still wondering what Paola is thinking?

  I have to listen in. Just one more time.

  He closed his eyes, and tuned into the voices. But he didn’t hear Paola’s.

  Instead, he heard Black Pieces, the voices he hadn’t heard since they came to The Sanctuary.

  “Hello, Luca. I missed you.”

  “Black Pieces?” Luca thought, excited and a bit nervous that his old chess-mate had resurfaced.

  “Yes, I’ve been looking for you.” Black Pieces said, his voice today like Cheshire Cat’s from Alice in Wonderland, but with a bit of a hiss at the end of his words.

  Luca felt a chill. “What do you want?”

  “He’s here, isn’t he? The Man in The Center, Man in the Middle, whatever you’re changing voice is calling him today. I feel him with you.”

  “Yes,” Luca thought, “But he’s not like he was in the dreams. He’s not killing people.”

  “Not yet, but you know the dreams can’t be changed, right? Because they’re not dreams.”

  “Yes, they can. I can change them.”

  “Do you even remember what happened in the ‘dreams,’ Luca?”

  “No, not everything. I haven’t been having them lately. I thought maybe they wouldn’t come true. Maybe things would be okay.”

  “Yes, I see what you’ve been doing, but I wouldn’t get too attached.”

  A vision flashed before Luca: Rebecca’s dead eyes staring up at him. She was skinny, and her skin blue, as if starving and cold.

  “No,” Luca thought. “She’s not going to die!”

  Dark Pieces laughed.

  “She’s already dead, silly. Heh-heh. She died two nights ago. You’ve only been ima
gining that she’s still alive. Tsk, tsk, you’re even more messed up than they said you were. Poor Luca’s first love is a dead girl.”

  “No!” Luca thought. Or thought he thought, but then realized, by the stares from his classmates, that he’d shouted it out loud.

  “Are you okay?” Ms. Autumn asked as the kids up front giggled. Paola stared at Luca, concerned.

  Luca’s heart pounded, and he felt short of air, sucking in deep breaths, his thoughts a jumbled mess.

  No, she can’t be dead!

  Luca got up from his desk, heart pounding in his throat, and said, “I don’t feel so good,” and raced from the classroom, into the hall, and out of the house, headed for the Box of Shame.

  Fifty-Seven

  Luca Harding

  Luca raced from the women’s house, toward the courtyard where the Box of Shame stood in the morning sun and last night’s four inches of snow.

  He could feel eyes on him: workers at the church, a couple of men in front of the barn, Brother Rei and John, who were standing in front of the hangar, and surely the men in the guard towers over each of the houses. He heard snippets of thoughts, people wondering what he was doing. One man wondered if he should shoot Luca.

  Luca didn’t stop running until he reached the box. He pounded on the box, his hands hurting in the cold air as his fists met the wood. He cried out, “Rebecca!”

  Nothing but silence.

  His heart froze.

  No, she can’t be.

  All those journeys taken together, all their conversations, stories, secrets, and laughs shared in the past two nights, were they all in his head?

  He continued to bang on the box. “Rebecca!!”

  Behind him, one of the men shouted, “Hey, get away from there!”

  Luca could hear footsteps approaching, though he could see nothing but the wooden box in front of him with its heavy wooden bar locking the poor girl inside. He put his hands beneath the bar, and pushed up. It was lodged tight, so he pushed harder, putting his feet into it, but his feet were slipping in the snow.