So Ethan believed as he wandered aimlessly through the street that night. Kids were everywhere, dressed up in garb as ridiculous as his. His foster mom, whom he never cared to remember the name of, or anyone else in that house, dressed him up for the holiday. The parents were kind enough to let him choose his – a wizard, with a staff and draping robes. He wore ordinary jeans and a t-shirt underneath. Everyone had nearly commenced their trick-or-treating by the time he snuck out his bedroom window and hurried down the street.
He belonged with his mother. But she’s dead.
He belonged with his sister. Kidnapped by Bryan, my own brother.
They were both still out there. One a corpse, the other missing and probably being violated every hour. He had nothing anymore. No one to go to. Mother and sister – they were all the family he ever had, and that was always enough. He didn’t have close relatives to call upon. The nearest relatives lived in Washington over two-hundred miles away.
If Bryan kidnapped Eva, I’ll never be able to reach her now. She’s all the way up in Washington, he thought.
What was left? He lost everything he cared about. He couldn’t replace them, either. No foster parents or foster siblings could replace his true family. He’d rather die. In fact, that seemed to be his only remaining option. Compared to how he felt about his circumstances, death smelled sweet. He had already tasted it.
Alone on the street, in the cold… Ethan hid himself from view when a car passed down the street. He only returned to the sidewalk when other kids were nearby. It was fortunate that they walked in packs, and he only followed close behind until they stopped at a house. The adults never seemed to notice, except one, and Ethan excused his strange presence to her by saying he’s going back home, which was ‘right up there.’
Once he neared his destination, he ran the remaining distance. The tent was damp from residual rain. Keeping his muddy shoes on, he unzipped the tent and sat inside.
Finally, some solitude. He lacked it for over a month; since he held his dead mother in his arms. First, he lost all his family in the same night, then some strange woman named Phoebe let him sleep in her big house for the night, then state workers were taking him to a foster home. Too much, too soon. His emotions bottled up for over a month… He needed a place to release them, where no one could see his weakness.
Now, in the last place he spent quality time with his sister, he had that chance.
Ethan collapsed face-down on the tarp. He continued to hear the echoes of his mother’s cries as Bryan cracked her skull open, as if the blows struck him instead. He cried stridently, caring nothing if others heard him. He called to his mother, over and over, hoping she’d reach out and comfort him. He clenched the sleeping bag and screamed into it. His chest burned, the rest of his body sweat profusely, and before long he was sniffling the tears he leaked.
Worst of all, there was nothing he could have done. Even with Eva’s help, Bryan was too strong. The harder Ethan pushed, the more hurt he got, and never any closer to saving his mother. He was weak, Bryan was strong.
Short, weak, inexperienced, and not even ten years old. He loathed himself for his numerous handicaps. Stupid, useless… This was how he felt. Mom would still be alive if I wasn’t such a piece of shit! He ceased keeping his thoughts pure and his body tame. The overwhelming rush of emotions drove him to thrash about, flailing his body in haphazard motions, striking the ground, the tent and everything in it with greater force than he knew he could muster.
Finally, after his body was depleted of energy, he dropped onto his back. The cold only started to cool him down, with a long way to go. “I’m sorry, mom,” he said. “I’m so, so, so sorry.”
Time was lost to him, becoming virtually nonexistent. While real time passed, hours feeling like seconds, his mind was in the past, reliving every moment he had with his mother, and even the brief, sporadic memories he had with his father. Coming to his attention was the fact that good things in his life never lasted; what little he ever had. Mom and Dad were always fighting, he consciously noticed. Why? Why did they fight? Why did they break up? It didn’t matter, because his father was what he and Bryan had in common. I wish my dad wasn’t his dad, too. Mom would never give birth to someone like THAT!
Never had he lacked the will to move. Video games, sleepiness, stuffing himself with big meals, etc., all things that he was adjusted to, all making him lazy, but this was new. Foreign, even. He didn’t want to move, ever again. He couldn’t think of a reason to. Thoughts turned against him, leading him to question everything. Why should I stand up again? Why should I eat again? These were only a couple out of hundreds of ways he questioned himself. Nothing had purpose anymore. Did anything ever have purpose?
Standing in opposition to these questions were the facts, particularly the fact he was hungry. He didn’t mind making that tent his final resting place, but hunger was uncomfortable nonetheless. Ethan decided to deal with it, and consider the consequences of living longer some other time.
He exited the tent, having no plan or preparation of any kind. Not that there was any way to prepare… He wore a wizard Halloween costume; nothing designed for warmth or keeping dry. But it was its own kind of cover. He had the option of eating candy all night, only if the adults didn’t notice he was unaccompanied, but after thinking a while, without stopping, he opted to get real food. Mom would want me to eat. All he knew of was a Plaid Pantry, like the one the family visited for snacks. No big stores nearby, like Freddies or Safeway to get a whole cart full. It’d be hard to get a whole cart in here. People would see me, too.
Hunger powered every step. While he thought about how to obtain food unseen, he continued walking. He had already made it inside Plaid Pantry a quarter of a mile away from the tent, still without discovering a way to successfully steal. The cashier hadn’t noticed him entering; a good first sign. The first aisle was of cheap candy made from companies he’d never heard of. He circled around to the next aisle, finding items like trail mix and a lot of canned products. Whatever. He took it all. Without reluctance, he seized everything in front of him, piling it into his arms.
“Hey, kid!” shouted the clerk as Ethan bolted for the door. Fright caused Ethan to drop over half the items before escaping. He ran his hardest, and was already out of breath before the store was ten steps behind.
They’re gonna call the cops, he thought.
Ethan found a car to crawl under. His face and goods scraped against the hard concrete, a physical reminder of his desperation to remain undiscovered. From there, he kept his eyes fixed on the direction from which he came, but no one was running about looking for him. After only a few minutes, he crawled out.
Still unseen…
With the couple of packages he possessed, he headed back toward the tent, avoiding standing out with the previously-used methods. To avoid people that perhaps had followed him, he stopped at a random apartment complex and devoured every last bite of his food like it was his last. The thought of this being his final meal crossed his mind, but didn’t bother him any.
He reached the tent same way he had come the first time. More now than ever, he felt miserable and alone. Hunger was far more appealing. He was prepared to have more of it. Bodily aching somehow soothed his emotional turmoil. As he unzipped the tent, he told himself he would remain inside forever this time.
He gasped. Someone was already inside, seated patiently, leaning against the back end.
“Eva! Oh my god!”
He dove at his sister with nearly enough force to crush her. She returned the affection in full.
The first time he had seen her since their mother’s death…
Overcome with joy, Ethan squeezed his sister as tight as he could. He could have maintained that hold for a thousand years. Eva could have been missing a limb, or have lost her ability to talk, and he wouldn’t have cared, because she was alive. What else mattered? From what he could tell, as they held one another, she seemed to be in one piece anyway, which made him feel al
l the better. Breathing, moving … alive.
She said nothing, but did smile bright. It was like she was back from the dead. Compared to all other times he felt happiness, he was feeling it for the first time.
“How…” Ethan smiled big. “How did you get out?”
Eva relinquished her embrace. Her tone lowered, her breathing slowed following a heavy sigh. “It wasn’t easy,” she began. “I thought I was in hell. Bryan didn’t even wait a while before he got started on me.”
Ethan’s eyes sunk.
“He had a friend, too. Didn’t hear the other guy’s name. When they weren’t doing anything to me, they left me in the basement and locked the door. Thought I was going to suffocate to death.”
“How many times did they hurt you?”
“I don’t know. It kept happening all night.”
“How did you get out?”
“I had to wait for them to mess up. They never let me leave the basement. I thought if I was good, they wouldn’t try so hard to keep me, you, ‘under control.’ Last night, they finally did leave the basement unlocked. So, when they were asleep, I went up to the kitchen, found some window cleaner stuff, and put a little bit in their milk jug. Just like I thought, the next morning, they ate some cereal. And not very long after that, they were holding their stomachs and groaning and started having diarrhea. I knew they couldn’t catch me if I ran away when they’re having fucking diarrhea, you know?” She laughed.
“This isn’t funny. You don’t care, do you?”
Eva’s eyes drifted away. “I’m trying not to care. It helps to laugh, okay? It helps me feel better about something that I’m gonna have to remember for the rest of my life!”
“Sorry, sissy. I didn’t mean to –”
“Forget it,” said Eva, waving a hand in his face.
“It’s my fault, isn’t it? It’s my fault Mom’s dead.”
Eva calmed, then pulled him in. “It’s nobody’s fault but Bryan’s. He’s one of those psychos you hear about on TV that does sick, twisted crap. We got stuck with a brother like him.”
“I’m gonna kill him! I swear I’m gonna kill him! I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him!” he screamed. His throat and eyes were unbearably sore, but it didn’t stop his bitter weeping.
Eva said nothing at first. Ethan squeezed her again, until noticing she could only take short breaths, and he quickly let go, apologizing. “It’s okay,” she replied. “We’re both hurting. You need to let it out.”
“Why aren’t you crying, too? Aren’t you sad?”
Eva scowled. “Don’t be stupid, Ethan. I care just as much as you. I’m trying to be strong, okay? I’m trying not to cry. We’re on our own now. Now Bryan’s gonna hunt me.”
“Why would he be after you?”
“Because I ran away. I could … I don’t know … tell people where he lives or something.” Eva sounded afraid, which was rare.
“Maybe we should run away as far as we can. Go somewhere far away from Portland.”
Eva pondered for a moment. “We’re kids. We can’t get very far without grown-ups catching us and putting us in foster care or some shit.” Ethan still needed to adjust to his sister’s cursing, but he accepted it. “Every city has homeless people that nobody cares about. We should go live with them.”
Ethan snarled. “Homeless people smell bad, and they have diseases and stuff.”
“Even rich people have diseases sometimes. If you’re so afraid of them, we can stay clean and just try not to get too close to them. We’ll be clean while they’re still dirty. It’s easy.”
For a solid minute, Ethan said nothing.
“Wait, were you in foster care? What happened after… you know?” Ethan only nodded. “Do you want to go back into foster care, or be with me? Just me…”
Ethan smiled, putting a hand on his sister’s knee. “Just you.”
Eva rubbed his hand, smiling nervously. “We can’t stay here, though. People will find us.”
“Why do we have to go anywhere? Why do we have to do anything? Mom’s dead. What’s the point, Eva?”
She had nothing to say. It looked like he made a good point that she couldn’t challenge. Then, unexpectedly, she said, “We still have each other…” A great sadness present in her voice. Ethan then knew he had offended her by implying he lost everything important. “We can do this,” she said, reaching out to hold his hand. “We can learn how to survive all by ourselves. The important thing is that we never, ever love anyone else. We never, ever trust anyone else. We stick together, no matter what, forever and ever.” Ethan nodded, but Eva added, “Promise?”
He nodded again.
“Promise me, Ethan. Promise me we’ll always stick together. That no matter what, we will only love each other. That way, we’ll be unstoppable. Nobody can hurt us ever again.”
Ethan understood her better. Confidently, he answered, “I promise,” and embraced her again. “You want to live in downtown Portland?”
“Better than here, little brother.” She began to gather items in the tent – knives, attire, tightening her shoelaces – and leaned forward onto her knees. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
THEIA
Sunshine covered everything in sight, instilling a soothing mood in Theia. Gazing at the trees and grass through the window never bored her. She was sitting opposite Mercy in the car, on their way to speak with Fallon, the head of their reclaimed zone, which the troops and residents dubbed ‘Queen’s Quarter.’ No part of her expected the upcoming meeting to have the outcome she desired. Mercy expressed doubt of Fallon granting her permission to leave the zone, but it was worth a shot.
Theia leaned her head against the window. “Know what I could never live without?” she asked.
“Many things, I would think.”
“Nature. I love plants, trees, grass, leaves…”
Mercy made a weird face. “Those are kiiiinda all the same thing.”
“No they’re not, they’re…. Oh.” She suddenly realized what Mercy meant. “Yeah, my bad.”
Mercy smiled. “Don’t animals count? People? We’re all part of nature.”
“Well, yeah. Rocks and dirt technically count, too. Everything’s a part of nature.”
Mercy laughed. “Rocks and dirt are also –”
“’The same thing.’ I know, I know.” They laughed together. Hearing that twice caused her to think about that: Being the same thing, while not. They pulled onto a parking lot, which appeared to be to a school. “Is everything the same?”
“What do you mean?” asked Mercy as they passed a tall billboard which titled the building as H.B. Lee Middle School.
“Everything. Is everything just … one thing?” Internally, she scorned herself for not making sense.
Mercy seemed to understand, though. “Everything is connected,” she said, pulling into a slot to park. “It’s all part of the same universe. Living things, non-living things.”
“Are we more important than other things?”
“People? No, no. Many people think we are, though.” Mercy stepped out of the car first, and Theia followed. “What makes you ask such questions, little one?”
“Just curious.”
“A curious one you are, Theia.”
They entered the building, where a couple dozen other adults were present, standing around conversing with beverages in hand, some with suitcases. Everyone was formally dressed, too. Theia didn’t like that. Dad always had to dress nice around Grandma, she thought. It always seemed so fake. Now, and always before, the sight of adults in business attire made her wonder, Why do people dress like that in meetings if nobody dresses like that at home?
“Because it’s a sign of professionalism and maturity,” answered Mercy.
Theia was caught off-guard. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Haha.” She took Theia’s hand and walked her through the crowd toward the back end of the building. “Unfortunately, you’ll have to sit there until I’m out of the meeting.”<
br />
“Why couldn’t we just talk to Fallon before she was busy?”
Mercy knelt down, meeting Theia at eye level. “She’s never not busy, honey. Now, wait here. I’ll be back soon.” She kissed Theia’s forehead.
Theia half-expected an ‘I love you,’ but had to remember that not everybody had the same customs as her father. Last time she had said those words to Mercy, she recalled, she didn’t hear it back. Maybe it’s still too early to say that, she thought. She spotted a smile, though, directed toward her a moment before Mercy entered the meeting room. It sufficed.
She wanted to go inside and attend the meeting; be a part of the decision-making. Whatever the adults were deciding, it couldn’t have been so sensitive and ‘advanced’ that she couldn’t have a little say? Nobody ever called her stupid – adults, anyway. She tested above her age in school. A quick little peek inside couldn’t hurt anything. Lightly, gently, Theia slid off her chair and stepped toward the conference room. Without using her hands, she pressed her left ear against the doors, listening in… Her mom’s voice was completely absent.
Before anyone might have come outside to use the bathroom or something, Theia swiftly returned to her chair, then waited a minute. No sign of someone knowing what she had just done… She breathed a little easier.
Standing again, she started to wander about the hall. It was full of trophies, charts and photos, all related to education and fundraising events. Theia removed her glasses to gaze at the images more closely. Nothing too special about them, except everyone’s clothes were clean, and the smiles were real – the kids and adults both. Sadness came to her as she stared at those smiles. Every time she tried to smile, the sorrow she had to bury exceeded the happiness she possessed. Forget that, she thought as she turned to return yet again to her waiting chair.
While she walked back, though, she reapplied her glasses then looked clear to the other side of the hall. Two large doors leading to the courtyard could be faintly seen through the tiny windows. Must be the playground, she thought.
It looked like a campground. In a way, it was. First was the former school’s courtyard, then past that was its field, a combination of baseball field and public park. All covered in tents. The huts covered the entire terrain, arranged in order like a neighborhood. One main street divided it in half, narrow walkways branching out like small roads. Theia wondered about the community there. She recalled something Mercy mentioned about there not being enough houses in the zone. Overflow, she thought, but with people instead of cars. A big outdoor homeless shelter, guarded by the Army.
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