Beyond the Cabin

  She giggled and came out from behind her desk. She cocked her head toward the door. “You going down?”

  “Yeah.” My heart thumped. I had to do it now. I turned toward the door, stretching out my hand toward her. I watched as she registered my movement. She looked up at me. I wondered if she would take the cue.

  Her hand filled mine with warmth. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

  We walked that way to the door of the classroom, then stopped. “I wish―” she said, her voice trailing away. I heard everything she hadn’t said.

  “Me too,” I said.

  “But this is great,” she said.

  I nodded, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “For now.”

  Her green eyes found my gaze. She nodded and squeezed back. “For now.”

  She went ahead of me, her hand slipping from mine like a ship leaving its dock. I watched her go down the stairs, her hair bouncing with each step.

  I gave her a minute, then headed down myself. Always gotta watch out for suspicion. It wasn’t as if we were going to do something bad or wrong. We just wanted to spend time with each other.

  In my room, I found David and Ethan. They were playing their version of catch with an old baseball. This meant that one of them would throw it underhand, high and usually back over his head. Then they would both run, screaming and laughing, to get the ball. The first to get it would then repeat the throw. I had visions of the ball crashing through the window. It didn’t take much imagination to see how I could get in trouble if that happened; it was my ball after all. Of course, I hadn’t used it since the first time that Mal had visited after leaving.

  I forced the stab of regret away. Too late for any of that.

  “Hey,” I said, making my voice loud enough to cut through the little boys’ screaming laughter.

  They ignored me.

  “David! Ethan!” I took a step toward the ignorant punks.

  They continued ignoring.

  I watched Ethan wind up for a throw. When the ball arced up, I moved fast, catching the ratty baseball with little effort.

  “Hey! We’re playing with that!” Ethan said.

  “We had it first!” David said.

  “You’re gonna break something,” I said. “Plus, it’s mine.”

  “But we had it first!” David shouted.

  I fought the urge to flick him on the forehead. So whiny! “Hey,” I said quietly, one hand out to shush the kid. “Look, we’ll find you a different ball. This one’s no good for inside.”

  I checked under the beds. No luck.

  David and Ethan whined more. I tried to explain, as calmly as possible, that they didn’t want to get in trouble for breaking something, did they?

  I had an idea. I stood and walked to my dresser drawers. I pulled out a rolled up pair of socks. Unrolling the socks, I got another pair out and did the same. Then I rolled all four socks up together, as tightly as I could. It wouldn’t last, but it should work for a bit.

  I tossed the sock-ball to the little kids. “Here you go. That’s not gonna break a thing.”

  “But it’s socks!” Ethan said.

  I mimicked his whiny noise. “But it’s socks.” Get a clue, kid. “Exactly. But it’s also a ball.” I crossed the room and picked up the sock-ball. I bounced it off a bed, then a wall. “See, good times.” I handed the ball to Ethan.

  The two little boys wasted no time getting back to their game, delighting in the unpredictable bounces of the irregularly shaped sock-ball.

  I took the baseball off the dresser. Another thought came to me. It might be kind of fun to play catch with someone. I pictured myself tossing the ball with crazy accuracy, hurting somebody’s mitt-covered hand.

  But I’d only ever played catch with Mal. Could I actually ask one of the other two boys my age to play? Did they even know how to catch a ball? What about Aaron? Would that seem weird? I shrugged. So what? I dug through the piles of debris at the bottom of the closet shared by everyone in the room. I came up with two baseball mitts.

  I left the scream and laugh-filled room and headed down the stairs. Luke appeared at the bottom and bounded up, brushing past me. “Luke!”

  Luke stopped in mid-stride. “What?”

  I hefted the ball and gloves. “Play some catch?”

  Luke fixed a surprised look on me. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  Luke thought about it. “Uh, sure. But in a bit. I’m in the middle of something.”

  I nodded. “I’ll be on the side of the house.”

  “Okay.” Luke turned to go but stopped. “You’re acting different.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You Josh. You’re acting funny.” He bent closer to me. “You on drugs?”

  I snorted. “No. And I’m not acting different.”

  “Yeah, you are,” Luke said. “You never used to talk to us.”

  “Sure I did.”

  “No, you didn’t.” He looked at me like I’d gone crazy.

  “How could I not talk to you and… whoever? We all live in the same house!”

  Luke made a face. “Exactly. But you never talked to any of us. Like today, in class.”

  “You’re the one on drugs,” I said, ignoring the twinge of memory that flared.

  “I wish. But you really might be.” Luke turned back up the stairs. “It’s good stuff, so don’t stop.”

  I continued down the stairs, chewing on what Luke had said. Sure, I was trying to watch my temper more, but I didn’t think anyone would have noticed such a small thing.

  As I reached the bottom, I heard voices coming from the dining room. The beggars had arrived home a few minutes earlier and were now counting their money. How do they actually convince people to give them money? It was obviously one of those eternal mysteries.

  Heading for the door, I saw movement from the corner of my eye. I turned. Saul was walking toward me, his guitar leaning on Miriam’s easy chair.

  “Hey, I’ll play while you wait for Luke,” Saul said.

  Great. How do I get out of this? “Oh, that’s okay. I need to work on the gloves a bit,” I said.

  Saul got his kicked-dog look. “I can throw a ball too, you know.”

  “Geez, I know,” I said. What a cry-baby! “You know what? Fine. Sure, let’s throw it around.” Man this guy knew how to push buttons! No wonder Abraham slapped him around. Right away, I regretted the terrible thought. Yeah, sure, I’ve changed. Obviously Luke lived in a fantasy world.

  “Let’s go,” I said. I opened the door and led the way around the side of the house. Walking quickly away from Saul, I tossed a glove at him. Saul dropped it.

  “You gotta warn me,” Saul said.

  “Okay. Heads up, I threw the glove at you,” I said.

  “Shut up.”

  “If you’re gonna be like that, I’ll take that glove back, thanks,” I said.

  “Alright, alright, alright. Fine,” Saul said. He picked the glove up.

  I jogged about forty feet away from Saul. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  I lobbed the ball. Saul scurried forward, but missed it.

  “My bad,” I said. “Too short.”

  Saul threw the ball back, sort of. It arced way to my right and I had to chase it down. “Try throwing it to me next time,” I said. This is going to be loads of fun.

  “Sorry,” Saul said.

  I threw it back. This time it flew perfectly. Saul jumped back and swung his glove at the incoming ball. “Don’t fear the ball!” I called.

  “I’m not. But don’t throw it at my face!” Saul stooped to pick up the ball.

  “I don’t know. A scar from a baseball might improve your face,” I said, laughing and catching the ball easily. “Good one.”

  “Anything would improve your face!” Saul said, laughing also.

  “Get a mirror!” I threw the ball back.

  Saul dropped every other ball that came his way. I could tell he was trying not
to get angry, but frustration was obvious in his increasingly erratic throws.

  “Come on, settle down,” I said. “Try letting the ball come to you.”

  “I know! I can catch a ball, duh. Something’s wrong with your glove.”

  “Yeah, go ahead and blame it on the glove,” I taunted, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Just get the ball to me, not ten feet above me!” Saul said.

  I lofted a perfect arc toward Saul. Get under it!

  Saul dropped it. “Dammit!” With a growl, he lunged at the ball. His face contorted in fury, he threw it blindly.

  “Sauly! Moron!” I leapt for the ball. It ricocheted off my glove, still moving fast, but toward the house.

  I had time for dread to hit me like a lead weight in the gut before the crash came.

  Saul whipped around, searching out the source of the noise. I pointed at the dining room window. Saul swore.

  “No kidding,” I said. “Crap.” I blew out a loud breath. “Just great.” I turned to Saul.

  The kid was already in high gear. He had dropped my glove and was running fast toward the nearest trees, the thick flat curls on his head bouncing with each stride. He was flying.

  “Sauly!” I called. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Unbelievable. Shaking my head in awe at Saul’s total cowardice, but kind of understanding it, I bent to pick up my glove. This is gonna suck. Bad.

  “Joshua!”

  I stood and faced the destroyed window. It took me a couple of seconds to be able to focus past the broken glass.

  “What in the name of God are you doing?”

  A flash of fear hit me in the gut, then traveled up my throat. It was Abraham. Even better. I swallowed the fear. “It was an accident.”

  “You get in here this instant,” Abraham said, his voice pitched low.

  “Okay.” I walked slowly around to the front of the house, looking back the way Saul had run. No sign of him. Guy moves fast when he wants to. At the corner of the house, I paused. I had to go in there. I had to face the abusive jerk. Besides, this was at least partly my fault, so I maybe sort of deserved whatever punishment they gave.

  If we got some kind of allowance they could make me pay for it. I imagined two or three thousand lines saying something about respecting property, being careful and showing love to all windows. I snorted at the thought. The snort turned into a burst of laughter. I let out a breath, dispelling the fear in my stomach. What can they do, really? You can bet Abraham’s not gonna catch me by surprise again. Lines are nothing. I had done three thousand of the stupid things. It had been a hassle, but doable.

  I headed toward the door, trying to conjure some kind of somber, martial soundtrack to accompany my march. Nothing came. You’d think this was dramatic enough.

  Opening the door, I tried to imagine what the punishment would be. I followed that thought until I came to a surprising conclusion: It didn’t matter. Then it hit me: the grown-ups couldn’t really do anything to me. The truth was that no punishment, no matter how miserable or unfair or huge it was, had to bother me. Idiotic lines and the like were simply lame hoops I had to jump through to get through each day the way I wanted. It wasn’t like it hurt to do that stuff.

  Maybe Aaron had it right. Or at least a little right. I had no intention of making people compare me to a computer. But not letting things get to me might be the right way to go, although I didn’t think I had it in me to stay off the radar.

  I remembered what I’d done the other day when Ezekiel was screaming at Sarah. Yeah, definitely not my thing.

  Crossing from the living room into the dining room, I brought my thoughts to the current dilemma. Abraham was standing next to the broken window, glowering at me. The other beggars: Ezekiel, Laura, Estelle, and Ruth looked on. Briefly I wondered at Enos and Tabitha’s absence, then I remembered that they had gone back to Dallas with Luciana.

  I felt like I was in court or something, with the adults being my jury. I glanced at Abraham, then the others again. Yeah, but I’m guilty. I guess this is all about the sentence.

  “Would you like to explain yourself?” Abraham said from across the table at which the other beggars sat, their takings for the day spread in piles before them.

  “Uh.” I thought fast. How could I make this the least painful? No. They can’t do anything to me. Stop it! I took a mental step back, imagining how I looked. I realized I was slouching, as if I was trying to become small.

  I straightened. “Yes, I’d like to, thanks.”

  “Excuse me?” Abraham’s voice dripped with surprise.

  “I’d be happy to explain what happened, yes.” I knew I sounded too formal, but I had to go my way with this. If this was what it took, I was going to stick with it. I heard a snort of laughter from the gathered adults. I didn’t take my eyes from Abraham’s gaze to find out who it was.

  Abraham stepped away from the window, rounding the table toward me. His face seemed to quiver. “Please do, then.”

  “Well, I was playing catch outside and―”

  “With who?”

  With ‘whom.’ “It doesn’t matter. But a ball went wide and―”

  “It doesn’t matter? Who do you think you’re talking to? I asked who you were playing catch with.” Abraham took a step closer to me, anger clear in his face.

  “But it doesn’t matter, because it was my fault. I tried to catch the ball. It bounced off my glove and hit the window,” I said. I knew I was pushing it, but I didn’t mind. My heart hammered in my chest, and I was struggling to control my breathing, but I wasn’t angry or scared. I felt like I was in an exhilarating freefall, as if I had jumped out of an airplane.

  “You need to watch the way you speak to me young man,” Abraham said, clearly furious.

  “I thought we were talking about the window, not who I’m talking to,” I said. A movement at Abraham’s side caught my eye. I let my gaze dart down and back. Abraham was clenching and unclenching his hands.

  “You’re making this an issue of respect, not just a broken window, boy,” Abraham said through his teeth.

  “Sorry, I don’t think so. I told you I broke the window. What do we do now?” I said. Abraham’s fists clenched and unclenched.

  “First you talk to me with some respect!” Abraham shouted.

  I wanted to tell Abraham the same thing. I’m not the one shouting at the top of his lungs. “I’d like to invite you to do the same thing.” Holy crap. Where was this coming from? I pictured my thoughts following the route the words had taken and found a well inside me, deep and pulsating. Fury, grief, fear—all of these seemed like they had combined into this well, forming some kind of glowing metal.

  At my last words, Abraham jerked as if struck. He opened his mouth and I braced myself for an explosion. Instead, Abraham’s next words were spoken in a fierce whisper. “You show some respect for your elders or you’re going to pay the price for this behavior.”

  Understanding flooded into me. “Why don’t you say it, Abraham?” I knew I was the one in control now. I stood as tall as I could. “If I don’t bow to you, you’ll try to beat me up again. But I won’t be caught by surprise again.” I breathed in deeply, feeling power flood my arms, legs, and chest.

  I heard the gasps from the people at the table, but didn’t acknowledge them. I wasn’t finished. “You know what I think? I think you’re scared.”

  “You shut your filthy little mouth,” Abraham said, taking a step toward me.

  I stood my ground. “Yeah, I think you’re scared. Maybe it’s that you aren’t in charge or maybe it’s because you can’t control yourself. But I swear to you that trying to beat me up again, or hitting Saul, isn’t going to fix it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Abraham took a single step backward.

  “You know what I’m talking about.” I began to shake from the effort of keeping myself calm in the heat of the fury blazing inside me. “I told you I broke the window but you made it an issue of respect. If you want respect so bad
, try showing some. At least try to find a way to calm down, because the next time you try to hit me or any of the other kids here—“ I took a breath, searching for the words, “I promise you it won’t go unanswered.”

  Abraham swore, moving at me fast.

  I found the guy’s eyes and held them tightly. I stepped forward and braced myself, waiting for the impact. I would not be the first to hit the ground.

  “Abraham, stop!”

  Abraham jumped and I whirled at the shout. Joan stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

  “Just stop!” Joan shouted again. Her chin quivered. “You leave that boy alone!”

  Abraham glared at Joan, then me. Without a word or a sound, he strode directly at Joan, but pushed past her into the kitchen. Silence followed his exit, then the sound of the back door in the kitchen closing.

  “Josh, you go find something to do. We’ll talk about the window later,” Ruth said from her seat at the table.

  I stared at her, unsure of what she’d said. After a moment while the rushing in my head faded, the words processed. I nodded. “Okay.” I surveyed the surprised faces of the adults. “Enjoy your counting.”

  Chapter 33

  I felt like I would never get across the living room. I tried to take a deep breath, but couldn’t. At the front door, I heard a sound behind me. I turned. Mary stood halfway down the stairs. The sight of her stopped me cold. Had she heard all of that? My heart felt like a burning stone in my chest. Her beautiful green eyes looked like glowing emeralds.

  I had no idea what to say, or if I could even talk if I tried.

  “That was…” Mary said. She hurried down, stopping at the bottom step. “How, why did you do that?”

  “Had to be done. Long time coming.” I remembered Mal saying the same thing, months ago.

  I felt my hands tremble. I needed to get out of here. But my legs didn’t seem to want to move. I found myself standing closer to Mary.

  Mary took my hand, squeezing it tightly. “You were great.”

  A laugh shook itself free of the tightness in my chest. “Thanks.”

  Footsteps sounded from the hallway and she let go of my hand. She darted out the front door and I made as if I was headed up the stairs. Miriam appeared from the hallway, her expression curious.