by Natalie Ann
Today’s most popular games in the industry fed kids violence in every form, and it sickened him. With each new edition, that violence became more realistic as technology got better and the graphics ridiculously convincing.
No more non-violent Super Mario in today’s world. What they marketed now blew his mind. So much so that he decided to create games for the younger age kids that would challenge their brains, force hand and eye coordination skills to get better and bring a sense of satisfaction for every age. And… they didn’t have to attack or destroy their adversaries.
It took years for him to be good enough for the trade to start paying attention. He’d traveled to every Expo, Gamer’s Convention and Gaming event he could afford. Finally, he became an expert and got noticed.
Wooed by many in the industry, he recognized the disgusting greed behind every offer. Their determination to charge outrageously for their version of what sold best today turned him off. Not willing to get sucked into their materialism, he decided to set up a website, form his own fabricating company and sell the product so most could afford to buy what he offered.
With most of the hard work behind him now, he’d handed over the day-to-day responsibilities to a young business manager, Joel Madden, who had identical visions and needed a job as much as Beau needed his freedom.
Except, now he felt restless, unfocused… lonely.
This morning, deciding to stop pouting and make feasible plans to take care of things, he’d gone shopping and bought a top of the line surfboard, a wetsuit and the rest of the gear that he’d need to get him involved again in a sport he loved.
Surrounded by parcels and his turquoise, lime green and white Wavestorm 8' Classic Pinline surfboard, he almost didn’t hear the doorbell. If it wasn’t for Alexa signaling he had company, he’d have missed the most important visitor in his boring life.
The young, maybe twenty-five-year-old female who stood at his door wore dirty clothes, a messy hairdo, and a rotten attitude. “Is Roger here?”
Beau’s alert button lit up. “Who’s asking?”
“Me. No one else here.” The girl looked at him as if he were a total idiot. Inside he smiled, but on the outside, he maintained a bored, watchful demeanor.
“And who are you?”
“I’m Carrie Davis. An old girlfriend he left stranded many months ago. Not only hasn’t he kept his word to help me with his kid, but he hasn’t kept in touch.”
“Sounds like Roger all right. Sorry, he’s not here.” What? Roger’s kid?
“Do you know where I can find him?”
“Hey, he treats his family the same way he treats his girlfriends – on a need to know basis. Guess he figures we don’t need to know.”
“You mean he’s screwed with you too?”
“Well, not literally. Not like you. But I have no idea where he is or when he might show up again. It depends on how much money he needs.”
Carrie’s face dropped, the trembling in her skinny body increased and tears began forming in her eyes. She appeared as if she would sink to the floor and wail her grief. Not wanting that to happen in his upscale Phoenix apartment building where a lot of folks loved to bitch about any little old thing to the super, he quickly stepped back and gestured for her to come in. “Don’t pass out on me. Come in for a coke or something to eat.”
Upon hearing the word coke, her face lit up, and she seemed to gain a new energy. “Okay, yeah, I’ll have a snort. Wait, I need to bring the kid inside.”
Snort? Kid?
Not giving him a chance to enlighten her, Carrie bent down to the left, out of his vision. Before he knew what she meant to do, she tugged the arm of the cutest little dirty-faced cherub and hauled her into the room. The toddler wore rags that he supposed was a dress, her golden hair straggled around her face, and the air of defeat in her eyes was outrageous in one so young.
“This is Roger’s baby, too.” She let the child curl up on the floor on the inside of the apartment, and then she began to search for the goodies he’d offered. “I really need a hit. Can we get to that?”
Totally blown away, Beau went to the kitchen area, opened the fridge and grabbed the red and silver can. He opened it and poured some in a glass to hand over to the flummoxed girl.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“You said you wanted some coke. This is the only kind I’ve ever bought or used.” He hardened his expression, so she knew he meant business. “How old is the kid?”
“Almost three. She was born in September. Her name is Caro. Get it? Half my name and half Roger’s.”
Thanking the good Lord that her name wasn’t Heather, he nodded. “Does Roger know about her?”
“Last time I seen him I was bigger’n a house; had the baby the next day. I kept my promise while I was pregnant – no booze, no drugs, no hooking up with anyone else. He watched me like a hawk, so I didn’t mess up. I got out of the hospital three days later, and he’d up and left. That’ll be three years ago in two weeks. From then on, he never gave me any money for the kid, nothing. There one day, gone the next, the slimy bastard.”
“Yep, that sounds like my baby brother – doesn’t like responsibility.”
Carrie shrugged and lifted the coke to him asking, “Have anything to put in it?”
“Nope, sorry.”
She shrugged sadly and took a sip. “I need to find Roger now.”
“So, you said.”
“Look, I’m in trouble… ahh, with the law.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. They… ahh, got a bogus charge of… ahh, break and entry against me and my friend. I – we made plans to skip town, so I can’t haul the kid around with me anymore. Sad to say, but she’s a drag.” Carrie looked down at the now sleeping baby and shook her head. “Caro’s a good kid; doesn’t make any noise ‘cause she doesn’t talk. Don’t know why. But she does as she’s told, hardly eats more than a sparrow and doesn’t wet the bed anymore. Like I say, she’s a good kid.”
Before he could add anything else, Carrie headed for the door, opened it and brought a full plastic bag into his living room, handed him the child’s birth certificate and headed out again.
Totally flummoxed, lifting his hand to stop the crazy nutcase, he caught a noise and saw the child staring at him… watchful, waiting.
His comfy world turned upside down as he looked into his brother’s soft green gems. The baby used the same beseeching stare his brother had always turned on him to get his own way.
Beau shut his mouth and watched the door close behind the sorry excuse of a mother.
Okay, then.
Good riddance.
Chapter Two
Conflict over one’s future, the worst possible state in which to spend each day, weighed on Elli Storm for quite some time. Until she’d finally admitted that only one field held any interest.
Once she’d accepted her path, she declared her master’s degree in Child Welfare at Phoenix University. She’d worked hard to pass all the Adolescent Psychology programs and obtain her degree in Child Psychiatry that would enable her to specialize in childcare.
Then her future took a curious curve. She stumbled upon an opportunity of a lifetime. A friend who’d started a specialty store for children, selling everything from clothes to toys, offered to sell it to her for half its worth. Since her lucky friend was marrying a rich man, she didn’t need the money, but she was leaving Phoenix within the month.
“Elli, you love kids. Hell, you’re the only person I know who stops in the middle of a run to greet kids in strollers and get down on your knees so they can babble away while you pretend to care.”
“Are you saying I’m creepy?”
Laughing, her bestie Sharon said, “No. It’s adorable.”
Elli laughed at the vision her friend’s words had formed. “Hey, I really do care. Kids are precious… they’re our most valuable commodity.”
Sharon ended up speaking the last few words in harmony, proving she’d heard
them before. “Then this store is the perfect place for you to put your energy into, right? It makes so much sense.”
Unable to turn down such a prospect, Elli had used the money her grandmother had put in a trust for her and became the new owner of the successful children’s shop. Life soon became filled with store-related activities, a new romantic relationship that had her head in the clouds a lot of the time, and a challenging occupation that filled her days.
Until it all came tumbling down. Her boyfriend, the jerk, had started cheating on her. She saw them snuggling in a restaurant she’d gone to with a girlfriend after he’d canceled their date to work late.
The giggly blonde, who’s lips took a field trip across his too-handsome face, could have him. She kicked him out then cried because the man she believed him to be left without any arguments. After a few days of moping, she’d gone home to Maricopa, a small city near Phoenix, only to discover her parents had made unexpected exciting travel plans, and her depression worsened.
Obviously worried about their girl being in such a bad way, having lost both her best friend and the cheating slimeball who took advantage of her to live rent-free in her beautiful apartment, they honestly felt a change of scene would be best. Having raised Elli in Maricopa, she had a lot of friends in the growing city.
Seeing their Elli distraught and aimless, they begged her to come home to start a life, move into their beautiful house and give them peace of mind. When she agreed, they became giddy with joy.
The process of selling her business followed. It went so fast, her head reeled. That lifestyle ending meant her empty future would be open to a number of possibilities
Thankfully, involved in her parent’s pleasure kept her from giving in to her own misery. Unable to refuse her two most favorite people in the world the comfort of knowing their place would be safe, she’d caved and decided she’d make the best of her new existence.
Her mind retreated to the day before her parents left. She remembered her mom’s serious expression. Taking important time away from the multitude of suitcases she needed to pack, she’d sat Elli down and spoke in that serious mom’s voice that anyone who suffered through a mom’s tough-love lecture understood.
“I’m fed up with you lazing around the place looking all sad and gloomy, knowing that incredible brain of yours is gathering cobwebs. It’s driving me crazy. You worked too hard years ago to get a bunch of degrees in Child Psychology to ignore them. When you bought into the Phoenix store, I said nothing. But now that’s gone, those degrees have worth. And they can help give you a career.”
Caught up in the suggestions her mother’s words created, Elli listened. “You’re right. I’ve been feeling so sorry for myself that I haven’t thought about what to do now that I’m free from all my commitments.”
“Okay then… get busy. Update your credentials and get a job working with underprivileged kids. Those little ones were all you ever talked about when they came into your shop. You love children. If you can’t see your way to doing that, be a nanny. Hell, get pregnant and be a mom. Just do something.”
Elli laughed, hugged her mom and then went to find the scads of information she’d gathered while going to the University.
While she settled into her new life, her mom and dad, who’d booked back-to-back cruises with travels in-between that would take them almost half a year to enjoy, left her with lists of to-dos. They’d made sure the joint bank account would fill up each month for the house expenses and said their excited farewells.
Once alone, sick of the dissatisfaction staring at her every day in the mirror, she pulled up her big-girl lacy white thongs and pushed herself to face a bunch of terrifying interviews. Finally, she got a position with the Phoenix Department of Child Safety. She even had an office of her own.
The only ouch in this happy scenario happened to be her senior DCS Specialist, the woman directly above her in charge of all her day-to-day work decisions. This lady, Miss Grundy – a perfect name for her grouchy demeanor – likely drank liquid starch rather than coffee. There was no bending any rules whatsoever.
Being stilted and programmed, kept in a tight mold that didn’t suit Elli, she persevered. Laying around the house or by the pool, reading today’s best-sellers was no longer an option.
Chapter Three
After a few months, Elli accepted that her mom had been right. Children did brighten her world, and now that she finally had the opportunity to follow her original dream and work in her chosen field, she experienced a huge sensation of relief. Giving back to people who didn’t have the opportunities and good fortune she’d always taken for granted, made her feel needed.
Every day, she’d downplay her beauty using a minimum of makeup, slip on thick-lens black-framed glasses rather than using the contacts she’d always worn and weave her hair in a bun-like mess on the top of her head. Dressing down in clothes one might wear if one was a forty-year-old nun, she’d slip into her flat shoes and spend too many hours behind her desk.
Of course, the one hitch in an otherwise perfect world was her nasty boss, Miss Grundy. The woman stuck strictly to the rules and never gave an inch no matter how dire the situation. People were being torn apart, citizens who’d lived in Arizona for years yanked from their families by ICE and sent back to God knows where, and sour Miss There-are-rules-for-a-reason did nothing.
So many times in the few months she’d worked in the office, people had come to Elli for sanctuary, especially for their children. And she’d done whatever she could to help them. Either she’d apply for financial aid for relatives enabling them to keep their family’s offspring, or she’d find other friendly homes for young ones who had the right to stay in the country they were born in.
Not surprising, in a few cases where folks were either forewarned or they instinctively grasped that the end of life as they knew it loomed near, she had used her own funds, slipping envelopes to the suffering men and women who didn’t deserve to have their lives ripped apart and were going to try to escape. To lose themselves in some other U.S. city.
Elli also knew people who knew people, and in the very worse-case scenarios, she could give constantly-changing phone numbers of an unauthorized caring society to those poor individuals willing to risk going on the run so their families could stay together in the country they’d come to love.
Of course, worse than anything were the vilest cases of abuse and mistreatment that crossed her desk. Thankful that those situations didn’t happen every day, she’d deal with them as best she could. Usually, she’d be faced with the horrible task of taking a child away from an unfit parent and placing him or her in a foster home, or if they were not fosterable, she’d find them lodging somewhere in the overcrowded and underfunded system.
Some days her job left her with the happy knowledge that she’d made a difference in a positive way, and she’d leave feeling good. But there were many more days filled with frustration and anger at the pitfalls and ridiculous bureaucracy when a child’s happiness and future were all that should matter.
That morning, she’d been forced to separate a young male teen from a stepfather who prostituted the boy to earn enough money for his own drug habit. What broke her heart was the boy didn’t want to lose the only person in his world he knew. He’d rather stay with the foul man and suffer the horrible abuse than go to a new, unknown future.
She’d questioned him, and once he’d admitted to the mistreatment, she’d tried to explain how much better life could be, but the young thirteen-year-old had no compass to be able to gauge the truth by. Kept out of school, locked in a small room where he had his own television and gaming console, getting his favorite food and drinks each day, and living like a kept animal were his norm. Change terrified him.
Sickened by this whole predicament, she lost her cool with both the police officer and the worker who seemed to have little sympathy. Her noisy retaliation had Miss Grundy making an appearance to stop her ranting.
“You cannot yell at the police
officers for doing their job. Nor can you harangue Miss Whitley for doing hers. She’s only following protocol, Miss Storm. You must learn to control your temper.”
“You’re telling me that the poor boy who has been treated like an animal in a cage all his life will now be sent to another cage in a detention facility without any therapy to help him become healthy? That’s the best we can do? He is not the criminal; he’s the victim.”
Cutting into her argument, the cop who did have some sympathy answered, “Yes. Unfortunately, at this time, it’s all we have. Maybe down the road, the system can make some changes in his case.”
Burned out from years of continuous bad-news stories, Miss Whitley had grown a thick skin. She nodded in agreement. “There’s a huge number of these kids in the system, Elli. We can only do what we can do. No more, no less. I’ll try to get him on one of the lists to see a psychologist, but those people are booked solid already, and there are seldom any openings. It will just take time.”
Elli felt her heart drop. “God help us. How can things have gotten so screwed up?”
“Cutbacks. The office has no choice. Their budgets have been hacked away each year, and once again, we’re expecting another reduction.”
Still facing hours of appointments, she nodded and backed off. But the bitter taste in her mouth didn’t go away. She’d looked into that boy’s eyes and saw the despair, the apathy and knew it for what it was… a crying shame.
Her last appointment for the day couldn’t come soon enough. Of course, the clients were late, which meant she would be clocking out past closing time… again.
She needed a break. To be able to recoup her spirit, smell the flowers and see the beauty in the world; not just it’s ugliness.
A knock sounded at the door. She opened it and stood back. When the good-looking male entered, literally dragging the seemingly terrified golden-haired angel into her office, her limit surfaced. All her good intentions went out the window.