by Lynn Moon
“Something like what?” I screamed out. “Why are you ashamed of me? Why did you delete him from my life? Just tell me his name.”
“Petunia Freya Crocker, go to your room.” My mom’s voice rose to a level I never heard before. Angry and shocked, I jumped to my feet. “Now!” She yelled, as tears filled her eyes.
I ran to my room, slamming the door. I screamed then cried. It only took a few minutes before she knocked.
“Go away,” I yelled, as rage racked through me.
“May I come in?” she asked.
“No!”
Mom peeked around my door. My eyes burned from crying so hard that I could hardly see. She never yelled at me like that before.
“Pete, may I ask you why it’s so important for you to know about him? He hasn’t been in our lives since you were a baby. Why can’t we just keep things the way they are?”
“Because that him is my father. I just want to know his name. Is that too much to ask?”
“I’ll think about it, Pete.”
“Why do you have to think about it? Why can’t you just tell me?” I yelled out as loud as I could.
“First off, you do not talk to me like this.”
“You yelled first,” I snapped back.
My mother sighed, taking in a deep breath. “Sweetheart, I know you’re upset but—” She reached for me. I backed away. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you his name, but don’t ask me anything else. We divorced a long time ago, and I’d rather not be reminded. It was a terrible time. So many lies from so many people I loved and trusted. I’d just rather forget.” Mom stared at me; I could almost feel her hurt. “Fine, his name is—”
“Honey, I’m home,” Hank yelled out, from the front door. “Hi, girls.”
Obviously, my friends were still sitting on the living room couch. Maybe they were too afraid to move. My mom and I never fought like that before.
“You’re home? Why so early?” Mom’s face lit up when he entered my room.
“So I can spend time with my two favorite girls,” he said, kissing her on the cheek and winking at me.
“Oh, okay. Well, Pete, I guess we’ll have to finish our conversation another time.”
I flung my face into my pillow and screamed. I screamed as loud as I could. The sounds were muffled, I’m sure, but I still hoped it was loud enough for everyone to hear. Mom closed the door. Before it shut, Hank’s voice sliced through me.
“What’s wrong with Pete?”
CHAPTER 5
TRAGEDY
ON THE FOLLOWING Wednesday, I sat in my math class still angry. Now that I had the name, Peter, it made me angrier that my mother wouldn’t tell me herself. I kept the picture of my mother and the man with the missing face hidden in my book bag. For some reason, I just couldn’t let it go. The school clock said one-fifteen and something didn’t feel right. I glanced around the classroom and everything looked normal enough. My unanswered math test sat quietly on my desk. I couldn’t concentrate on life let alone a stupid test. I did draw two eyes in the upper right-hand corner of the paper. They resembled the eyes I saw in my dream. Were they really my father’s?
Why couldn’t my mother tell me about my dad? Trying to imagine his face, I fumbled through my book bag for the picture. Did I resemble him? Was he tall? What did he like to eat? Where did he live? Why did he leave us, leave me?
The bell rang, pulling me from my thoughts. The room emptied as everyone darted for the hall. Everyone except me.
“Pete? Everything okay?” Ms. Hutchens, my math teacher, asked.
“Yeah, I guess.”
I smiled when I met Wendy at the door. As we walked to our next class, she talked but I didn’t. Taking a seat, I watched as the history teacher nodded to the other students as he passed out the assignment sheet. His face lit up when our eyes met.
“Here yah go, Pete,” he said, smiling.
For two years, Mr. Woods enjoyed me as a student. Getting straight A’s in his classes made me his favorite student.
“Thanks.”
Thinking about my father, I wondered if I really could be that terrible of a person. My teachers seemed to like me enough. So did the other kids. So why would my own father leave me and never come back?
“Pete? Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Umm, yeah,” I lied, not wanting to have to explain myself.
After everyone settled down, the classroom door creaked opened. One of the office attendants entered. Her swollen eyes matched the huge frown that covered her face. As she rubbed her hands together, she leaned over and whispered something to my history teacher. Then he too frowned. I squirmed in my seat as they just stood there, staring at me. When he finally motioned for me to come forward, I didn’t want to leave my seat.
Without saying a word, the woman escorted me down the hallway and to the office. The only noise was her sniffles. When I saw the principal standing in her doorway, my heart pounded like it would explode. Something terrible was going on, but what? Still angry with my mom, I had no desire to talk to anyone. Entering the principal’s office, I asked myself, what in the world had happened that was so bad?
“Pete, come and sit down,” Principal Miller said. Her eyes were swollen and red. She kept blowing her nose. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t good.
“Okay.” I shrugged my shoulders.
One of the office workers wrapped her arms around me. I shivered as her breathing tickled the back of my neck. What in the world was going on?
“Oh, Pete,” she said, crying. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
The principal shook her head as she pushed the attendant away from me. Then she motioned me toward her room. Entering her private office, I took a step backwards. It felt like someone had just slapped me in the face. The school’s counselor, Miss Parrish, and my odd neighbor, Mr. Cutler, sat motionless, staring up at me. Mr. Cutler slouched over his legs, as if he was too old or tired to sit up straight. Terrified, my feet refused to move.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Did he know about the boxes from the attic and told on me? Would my mother come in next? If I was in trouble for that, then where were Kendra and Wendy? I knew we shouldn’t have taken those boxes. But no one would cry about me stealing some stupid old pictures. No, something else was going on, and whatever it was, I really didn’t want to know about it.
“Pete, sit down,” Principal Miller said, “please.”
I sat down, glancing between Miss Parrish, Mr. Cutler and the principal. When I got home tonight, I would be in so much trouble. Where was my mom? She must be around here somewhere.
“Pete,” Principal Miller said. “I have some bad news, dear.”
I grabbed my stomach. Was I getting expelled or something worse? “Where’s my mom?” I asked.
The principal looked away, wiping her nose. Sitting there, my mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Something bad had happened, that I could tell. But what? Sucking on her upper lip, Principal Miller looked at me and smiled. If she was trying to disguise her feelings, she wasn’t doing a very good job. She was obviously quite upset.
“Pete, honey,” Miss Parrish said, now wiping her nose with a tissue. “Your parents were in a serious accident.”
“Accident?” Now my mind wheeled in all different directions. What did an accident have to do with me stealing the boxes? “Wait, what kind of accident? My parents? Where’s my mom?” The fear that was gripping my stomach, now traveled out and into my fingers and toes. My hands shook so hard, even sitting on them didn’t do any good. Oh my goodness, I didn’t like these people any more. I wanted, no, I needed to go home. I needed to find my mom.
The principal stared over at Mr. Cutler, who glanced down at the floor. He then played with his old black hat. It was the same hat I wore last Halloween; a cross between a baseball cap and a beanie. The room oozed with so much tension, I could almost taste it.
“Pete,” Mr. Cutler said, “the police came to my house a little while ago.” He s
topped talking to clear his throat. For some reason he couldn’t look at me. He always looked at me before. Why wouldn’t he look at me? “Your parents, um, your parents were in a car accident. I’m to take you home with me.”
“A what?” Home, with him? Why? What did Mr. Cutler have to do with my parents? “Are they not at a hospital?”
Mr. Cutler and Principal Miller glared at me. I felt naked, as if I had no clothes on or something. Were they angry or what? A loud wail echoed through the room making me jump. It came from Principal Miller. She burst into tears. Holding a tissue to her nose, Miss Parrish stared up at the ceiling. Now my stomach hurt even more.
“Honey, it’s not good,” Principal Miller said, between sobs. “Your parents—“
“My parents, what?” My chest hurt now, too.
“Pete, your parents, well they didn’t make it, honey. The accident was a bad one. They couldn’t …” Principal Miller cried harder, if that was even possible.
Her words made no sense. My head spun in all directions at the same time. That was all I remembered, until I opened my eyes in a room I didn’t recognize.
CHAPTER 6
UNCLE CUTLER
WHEN MR. CUTLER WALKED into the room, I couldn’t think. Then it hit me. I was in one of his spare bedrooms. Why?
“How are you feeling, Pete?”
I didn’t answer. My throat hurt.
“You’re safe. You’re at my house.”
I’d known this man my whole life. When we moved here with my stepdad, Mr. Cutler had bought the house next door. Our old apartment shared a wall with his apartment. It seemed weird to me how he always followed us. Mom said it was just a coincidence, that our town was small. I knew there was more to it than that. Deep down inside, something told me that Mr. Cutler was more than just an ordinary neighbor. All our neighbors were nice. But Mr. Cutler was always extra nice.
“Um, my, my parents.” Remembering the accident, I cried.
My mom couldn’t be gone. They all had to be lying to me, but why would they do that? No everything was all wrong. Without my mom, there really wasn’t a me anymore. She was everything I had, everything I ever was. And Hank. In many ways, he was my dad. Every night before bed, he’d tell me funny stories about when he was a kid. How could I sleep without hearing his voice? Hank taught me how to ride a bike. Hank taught me how to swim. Who would teach me important things now, if Hank was really gone? My mind couldn’t think. I was alone now.
“I’m so sorry,” Mr. Cutler said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “If I could put myself in their place, I would. But I can’t.”
“I want my mom and Hank. They can’t be gone. Why is everyone lying to me?”
Mr. Cutler didn’t smile. He just sat there and stared at me with his kind eyes. I knew he’d never lie to me.
“She never told me my dad’s name.” I didn’t know why, but all I could think about was the fact that I still didn’t know who my father was. My stomach twisted up until it hurt so much I thought I’d die, too. “I’m really all alone now, aren’t I, Mr. Cutler? I’ll never find my real dad, and now my mom and Hank are gone, too. I feel so bad. She died and I was still mad at her.”
“Pete, I have something to tell you.”
“There’s more?” Panic punched through my gut. I didn’t need any more bad news.
“I’m sending you to live with your father.”
“What? I … I’ve never met him. How does he even know about me?”
“I’ve kept him informed about you and your mother. I contacted him shortly after the accident. Do you know why your mother never mentioned your father?”
“No.”
“Oh my,” Mr. Cutler replied.
More tears ran down my face. The idea of meeting my dad in person didn’t seem real. My whole body tightened up. My mind remained blank.
“When?” I asked, not really wanting to know. “Where does he live?”
“I’ve already made flight arrangements. You have about a week before you leave. I know things are happening fast, and I’m sorry. But some things are not mine to control. Maybe this is a good time for you to say goodbye to your friends. They can come here, or you can go over there. Whatever you want, I’ll try to make it happen. Until you leave, you’ll stay here with me. It was all pre-arranged.”
I stopped crying. His words stabbed right through me.
“What do you mean, pre-arranged?”
He frowned and looked away. “Umm, well, you see—”
“Mr. Cutler, what are you not telling me? I’m so tired of people not telling me about ME.” I was yelling at him now. Seemed lately that was all I did, yell.
Tears formed in Mr. Cutler’s eyes. “Pete, let’s talk.”
“I thought we were talking.”
“I’m not sure how to tell you this. So, I’ll just say it. I’m your uncle.”
“What? My uncle? Wait a minute.”
“I’ve wanted to tell you so many times.”
“You’re my, Uncle Cutler?” I rolled my eyes. How in the world could this man be my uncle? Then I remembered him always being around and living next door. I remembered how he always wanted to be included in everything I did; school plays, Halloween, birthday parties.
“Actually, I’m your Uncle Ted. My last name isn’t Cutler, its Crocker, like yours.”
I stared him. “Okay, then what is your full real name?”
“Theodore William Crocker.” He held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Pete.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Crocker.” As I reached out to shake his hand, he pulled me into a strong embrace.
I cried and held on with all my strength. He may be a weird neighbor, but right now, he was the closest thing I had to my mother. Flashes of memories played through my mind. Although he was always a neighbor, I always felt something special toward him. He was such a nice man. I sometimes had wished he were an uncle or something. Was it okay now for me to love him? Was Mr. Cutler, or Crocker, all I had left in the world aside from a father I never met?
“My poor baby,” he said. “My poor baby.”
Not wanting to think about my mom or Hank, I concentrated on something else. “Will you tell me about my dad?”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“What’s his name? Why don’t I know him? What’s wrong with me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Pete.” He ran his fingers through my hair. It felt strange to be held by Mr. Cutler, I mean, Mr. Crocker. But at the same time, it also felt good. “His name is Pete, or Peter. Peter Selman Crocker. You were named after him, of course. He’s a lawyer and lives in Georgia.”
“Georgia? That’s a long way from here. Are you coming with me?”
“I just have a few things to settle here before I can leave.”
Mr. Crocker held me until I stopped crying. I knew what he meant. He had to deal with my mother’s death. Something I really didn’t want to think about. He smelled familiar, so I concentrated on that. I studied his hands. Much larger than Hank’s, a man I would miss growing up with. I loved Hank. Why didn’t I ever call him Dad? Would my dad’s hands look the same? Would I ever love my real dad as much as I loved Hank?
And how would I ever live without my mother?
CHAPTER 7
THE TRIP
MY HOUSE, MY HOME, was all too empty; just like my heart. As I waited for my uncle, I shivered in the cool morning air, frowning at the darkness that surrounded my life. Deep inside, I had prayed this was all just a big, terrible mistake and that my parents would come home any minute. Now that I was leaving for Georgia, everything sucked, everything was too real.
“Ready?” Mr. Cutler, my uncle asked, as he slammed the trunk shut, pulling me from my personal nightmare. I knew that his name was Crocker, the same as mine, but it was just hard calling him anything other than Mr. Cutler. It was Mr. Cutler who was my loving neighbor, not a Mr. Crocker. Maybe I should start calling him Uncle instead. Maybe that would be easier to accept.
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“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied. I really wasn’t ready to leave, because I wanted my mom. But, I had to accept the truth. The truth that my mother was gone.
Moving to Georgia to live with my father frightened me. Would I ever see Kendra or Wendy again?
“Here are your tickets,” he added, handing me an envelope. “Someone will pick you up at the airport.”
Someone? I nodded as a tear rolled down my cheek. As my uncle’s arms surrounded me, I felt warm on the outside. Inside, however, I felt cold and empty. Wiping away my tear, I held my breath.
“You’ll be fine, Pete.” He kissed the top of my head. “Just fine.”
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t hold back the pain that pounded inside me. I cried silently all the way to the airport. I couldn’t stop thinking about my mom or Hank. There wasn’t a funeral; my mother’s wishes. Therefore, it was time for me to leave. Time for me to go live with my father, a complete stranger, and I didn’t like strangers.
I said goodbye to my new uncle, leaving him alone in the airport lobby. He almost looked as lost as I felt. Walking behind the airline lady who had to escort me to the plane since I wasn’t over sixteen, I worried about tomorrow. I’d never been inside an airport, so everything was frightening and exciting. She escorted me through security where I removed my shoes. As I walked through the scanner, I held my breath. Would the alarm go off? Phew, no bells. After tying my shoes, I grabbed my bag and followed the woman again through the terminal. With each step, a pounding echoed through my ears. It was my heart begging for my mother. Never had I felt this frightened. Never had I felt this alone. Lately it seemed that fear and loneliness followed me everywhere.
She introduced me to an attendant at the boarding counter. Without a smile, he told me where to sit. It felt like every stranger stared at me. I’d never traveled alone before, and to be away from my mom and friends terrified me. My friends; without another thought, I yanked out my tablet to text Kendra and Wendy only to discover that they had already written to me.