Pork

by RS Anthony

  ***

  Two days later, after detention, Steven slung his backpack over his shoulders and headed out of the empty classroom for a cathartic session at Bob’s. Ever since he had started counseling with Dr. Simmons, washing cars had become an emotional crutch he had started to depend on. The repetitive motion gave him a sense of constancy. It didn’t seem like a chore.

  He didn’t have an appointment with Dr. Simmons that day and he was thanking God for it when he passed by Mrs. Thatcher’s office. The door was ajar, so he peeked in out of curiosity. Her fingers were linked under her chin while another woman spoke in a familiar quiet voice. When the woman shifted in her seat, Steven saw the unmistakable silver mane. He paused and stared at the two women for a moment while his heart picked up pace. Were they discussing him?

  A second later, Dr. Simmons glanced sideways and spotted Steven. She rose and ambled to the door with a smile. “Hello, Steven. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “I’m well, thank you. I was in the neighborhood, so I dropped by to see Mrs. Thatcher. She’s an old friend of mine, you know,” she said, and Steven nodded. “I’ll see you next week in my office, won’t I, Steven?”

  “Yes, Dr. Simmons.”

  “Good. Now, if you don’t mind excusing us, please.” And with that, she closed the door.

  ***

  As promised, Fenton drove Steven to his ground house site every day for the next four days. They worked together to build a house much better than the old tree house. It wasn’t as perfect as Fenton had hyped in the beginning, or as refined as the tree house his pa had built. But it had a living area where he and Pork could eat and play, and a room in the back that was partitioned off for sleeping. Steven figured when he had enough money, he’d buy a mattress for Pork. The planks were sanded and the floorboards polished. It also had a window and an improved ledge that Steven thought was great. The best thing about the ground house was that it had a bright white light, courtesy of Fenton. He had an old power generator he no longer used, so he gave it to Steven, and connected it to a light tube in the ceiling.

  When the last piece of the leftover planks and supplies had been cleared, Steven and Fenton stood admiring the new ground house with their hands on their hips. It had taken them a little over a week to complete the project.

  “It’s beautiful, Fenton,” Steven said, unable to peel his eyes away from the house. Pork was hiding in the woods as she always did when Fenton arrived to work. “I’d like to pay you for a job well done, sir,” Steven said, rummaging through his pockets. He handed Fenton a wad of cash.

  Fenton looked at it, amused. “What’s this?”

  “It’s $47. It’s what I have to offer for your service,” Steven said proudly, puffing his chest and stretching out his hand.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, keep the money, kid. Consider you’ve paid in full by turnin’ up at the car wash when we needed an extra pair of hands.”

  “Well, in that case, thank you.”

  Fenton smiled, patted Steven’s shoulder, and walked to his beat-up pickup truck.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, kid,” he said.

  After he drove off, Pork came slowly out of the woods clutching Mildred and took tentative steps toward Steven. He was still admiring the new house. Although he was elated by it, a slight uneasiness simmered in the pit of his stomach. One of these days he’d have to invite Dr. Simmons here. And he’d have to make sure there was no evidence of Pork before her visit.

  Pork stood next to him and he smiled at her. “See our new home, Pork? It’s so much better than the old one.” Pork nodded. “Come, let me show you around.” Pork followed him as he took her around the house, pointing out the window, the ledge, the ceiling light, and the partitioned room. “You can sleep here. See? So if I’m working in front, you won’t be disturbed.” Pork went to the corner of the empty room and sat on the floor, feet stretched in front her. She clutched Mildred in her arms and the sight made Steven smile. He helped Pork transfer her blanket and sheets from the woods into the house. “Well, it’s getting late. I better get going, Pork. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Sleep well.”

  Steven closed the front door and walked to his momma’s house with a smile on his face. But in a dark corner of his mind, he wondered what he’d do if Pork’s pa came looking for her now. It had been long enough, and although he had heard nothing on the radio while washing cars at Bob’s or at school, he was certain the old man had to be looking for his little girl.

  ***

  Sandy hadn’t joined him during break in a long time, preferring Molly’s company over Steven’s. He wasn’t exactly sure what had happened between them, but he guessed it had something to do with Steven not going to the police about Pork’s abuse. Or it could be because Sandy had found new friends at summer camp. She’d kept her distance since returning from summer break and Steven had accepted it. But today, she approached him during lunch and asked if she could join him.

  “Sure,” he said.

  “You’re having a tuna roll,” Sandy said, looking down at Steven’s lunch, surprised by the change. Ever since he had started working at Bob’s, he’d used his pocket money to buy better meals. Sometimes after work, he’d stop by the bakery to get some buns or pies, and have them for supper with Pork or during lunch at school.

  “Yeah,” he said, curious as to why she had decided to join him.

  “I’m sorry about the tree house,” she said, though it had been almost a month since it was destroyed. “How’s Pork?”

  “She’s fine. She escaped the fire.”

  “She’s still there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mildred?”

  “Yeah, Mildred too.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “Well, I kind of had a ground house built after the tree house burned down.”

  “What’s a ground house?”

  “It’s a tree house built on the ground,” Steven explained.

  “Why don’t you just call it a house?”

  Although she was making sense, he found himself agitated. “It’s just a name, okay?”

  “Okay.” Sandy shrugged, taking another bite off her sandwich. “You know, all the other kids have been talking about it, and word is that you accused Butch of setting it on fire.”

  “He did set it on fire.” Steven said, a little too loudly. “He was making fun of it the morning after the fire. That’s why I punched him in the hallway. But no one believes me.”

  Sandy nodded. “Did you ask Pork? I mean, did she see someone set the place on fire?”

  “No. Pork was in the woods looking for cherries with Mildred when the fire started, so she didn’t see anything.”

  “Can I see it?” she asked after a while.

  “See what?”

  “The new house.”

  Steven wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. He needed time to think it through before letting her in. He wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t start preaching when she saw Pork or the house.

  “Maybe,” he said.

  Sandy looked wounded. “You know, the last time I came, I didn’t get the chance to meet Pork.”

  “Yeah, I know. She didn’t turn up.”

  “I’d really like to meet her.”

  Steven twitched nervously before speaking his mind. “Sandy, I still haven’t told the police about her. Or my momma.”

  “I know. It looks like her dad doesn’t want her either. No one seems to be looking for her.” She shrugged. “So, who cares?”

  “I’m afraid someday he might come looking for her.” Steven fidgeted. “He might be looking for her right now. Someday, he’s going to cross that creek and find her there.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” Sandy said.

  “If he finds her when I’m not around, I may never see her again, Sandy.” Steven had completely lost his appetite and looked blankly down at his tuna roll. “Do you still think it’d be better for her if I told the police?”

  Sand
y thought about it while biting into her sandwich. “Well, have you asked her? What does she want?” That was an excellent point, Steven thought. Then Sandy asked again, “So, can I come see her sometime?”

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay? I promise,” Steven said, spotting Molly walking briskly toward them.

  “Sandy, Ms. Clapthorne wants to see you after lunch,” Molly said.

  Both Steven and Sandy’s eyebrows shot up simultaneously as Molly walked away. Sandy finished her lunch and went looking for Ms. Clapthorne, while Steven took his time to finish his tuna roll and enjoy the sun before heading back in.

  ***

  “Hi, Ms. Clapthorne,” Sandy said when she bumped into her teacher in the corridor. “Did you want to see me?”

  “Hi, Sandy. Yes. Why don’t you follow me to Principal Thatcher’s office so we can talk,” Ms. Clapthorne said, leading the way with a smile.

  Sandy’s eyebrows narrowed and she was nervous. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “You? No. You did nothing wrong, Sandy. Principal Thatcher just wants to ask you a few questions.” She smiled.

  Sandy bit her lip and wondered what this was all about.

  When they were finally in front of Mrs. Thatcher’s office, Ms. Clapthorne and Sandy saw the principal waving at them from the meeting room opposite her office. The room had large glass windows, so anyone who passed by could see what was happening in there if the blinds had not been closed. Ms. Clapthorne opened the door and when the principal said, “Come in,” she and Sandy entered. Mrs. Thatcher was seated at the head of the conference table while another woman with a silvery bob cut sat to her left.

  “Oh, there you are, Sandy,” Mrs. Thatcher said. “Come on in and sit.” She pointed to a chair next to the woman with the bob cut. “Ms. Clapthorne, thank you. You can proceed to your next class.”

  Ms. Clapthorne nodded and closed the door while Sandy took her seat anxiously. Her heart was beating like a drum. She had never been summoned by the principal, neither here in Halstead nor back in Billington.

  “Sandy, I want you to meet Dr. Simmons,” she said, and Sandy turned to face the woman.

  “Hello, Sandy,” the woman said, her face pleasant.

  “Hi,” Sandy said. Her voice was soft, barely audible.

  “Dr. Simmons is a counselor. She assists students who need help. She talks to them to find out what it is that they need so she can identify a solution,” Mrs. Thatcher said.

  Sandy’s palms turned damp and she wondered what she needed help with. Her grades were good and the only time she skipped school was when she got sick. Was that what it was all about?

  “B-but I don’t need help, Mrs. Thatcher. I’m fine.”

  Dr. Simmons let out a melodious laugh before saying, “No, dear. It’s not you. I’m here to talk to you about Steven.”

  Sandy was visibly relieved, and both the ladies smiled. “What’s wrong with Steven?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with him, Sandy. It’s just that Dr. Simmons has been talking to Steven since his altercation with Butch. I’m sure you’ve heard this by now. The news is all over the school. Dr. Simmons is going to try and help Steven deal with his frustrations. We think if he can learn to manage his emotions, it can help him achieve better grades. I’m sure as a friend of Steven’s, you’d like that very much for him.” Sandy nodded. “Good. But in order to achieve that, we need you to talk to Dr. Simmons and tell her what you know.” Mrs. Thatcher hesitated. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Sandy stared at her.

  When she didn’t say anything, Dr. Simmons said with a smile, “Sandy, I was hoping we could have a chat and you can tell me what you think of Steven. I’m sure what you know can help him a lot.” Dr. Simmons sounded earnest, making it difficult for Sandy to doubt the woman. “Do you think you can do that?” Her voice was calm and pleading. “If you agree, I promise it’ll stay between the two of us.” She smiled.

  “In fact, you two can use this room. I’ll leave to give you some privacy,” Mrs. Thatcher said, rising from her seat.

  Sandy’s eyes followed her principal until she left the room and closed the door. Then she glanced back at Dr. Simmons. She was utterly confused, but well aware that she’d have to be very careful with what she said.

  “W-what do you want to know?”

  ***

  The number of cars turning up at Bob’s lately was unmanageable. Feeling overwhelmed, Bob had begged Fenton, Steven, and another kid called Cesar to stay on for a few more hours with the promise of a bonus at the end of the day. Steven and Fenton had stayed on out of pity.

  After a hard day’s work, Bob gave them a bonus, as promised, and took Fenton, Steven, and Cesar out for dinner. Steven took the opportunity to order a fat steak, fries, coleslaw, a thick slice of mud cake, and a milkshake with Oreos. He enjoyed the selection immensely, aware that it was the most food he had eaten at once since Aunt Therese died. As he sat belching, Fenton picked his teeth with a toothpick and smiled at Steven.

  “Not bad, kid.” Fenton nodded at Steven’s empty plate, clearly impressed with his ability to tuck in. Steven grinned sheepishly. Bob and Cesar were talking animatedly about a football game they’d watched on TV last night. A moment later, Fenton said, “You know, a Dr. Simmons came to visit the other day.”

  Steven was startled and his forehead moistened. “What did she want?”

  “Well, she didn’t want her car fixed, that’s for sure.” Fenton chuckled. “She asked a lot of questions about you, kid. Said she’s been talkin’ to you too. That true?”

  Steven nodded. “Yeah. She’s been talking to me. Momma said it can help me improve my grades. But asking questions is all she does, and I have no idea how it’s supposed to help me at school.”

  “Well, she was real excited about the ground house. Wanted to know all about it.”

  Steven licked his lips. “Yeah.”

  Fenton adjusted his position and looked Steven in the eyes before asking, “Kid, you got someone else stayin’ in that ground house?”

  “No sir,” Steven said, and it was so spontaneous that he was sure Fenton believed it.

  Fenton nodded slowly and shifted in his seat before saying, “Well, she’s a peculiar lady. You just make sure you stay outta trouble, okay?”

  “Sure.” The woman was disturbing his tranquil little world with all her questions. Steven couldn’t wait to get out of the restaurant. He wanted to go back to his ground house where no one would ask him questions anymore. He was sick of them.

  While on his way to the ground house later, Steven regretted working the extra hours at Bob’s. He had grabbed some buns, a pie, and fruit juice for Pork on his way back, and looked forward to spending some time with her while she ate.

  “Hi, Pork,” he said when he saw her sprawled on the floor with Mildred on her chest. “Are you hungry?” She bolted up and looked at his hand expectantly. She nodded, and he handed her the plastic bag from the bakery. She opened it and pulled out a chicken pie.

  After dinner, Pork lay on the floor, burping.

  “Why isn’t Mildred flying away, Pork?” Steven asked. “Do you think she’s too attached to you by now?” Pork shrugged. Once in a while Steven fed the bird breadcrumbs on top of Pork’s steady supply of worms, but he hadn’t thought much about the bird otherwise. “Let me take a look at her wings,” he said. Pork rose and handed the bird to him. It looked like the old feathers were being replaced by newer ones. But Steven had no idea how much longer it’d take.

  “When will you fly, birdie?” Steven asked the bird and Pork giggled. “Are you taking your time because you like Pork too much? Huh? Is that it? You like getting easy meals?” Steven brushed the bird’s soft feathers on his face before returning her to Pork. He lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling. “Isn’t this a nice place, Pork?” he asked, staring at the ceiling light. Pork nodded. “I’m going to buy a mattress one day for your room. And then you’ll be really comfortable.”

  Steven sat up and l
ooked at Pork. She was flapping her arms and legs like a snow angel on the wooden floor.

  “Pork, I need to ask you something very important.” Pork ignored him and flapped faster, giggling. “Are you happy here?”

  She nodded without looking at him.

  “Good. But I want you to think about this, okay? Someday, your pa might come looking for you here.”

  “No,” she said.

  “Just to be safe, I can take you to the police station and tell them about your pa so they can keep you safe from him,” Steven continued.

  “No!” Pork screamed this time and sat upright. “No po-lees.”

  “Okay, okay. No police. I understand.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I have a friend. Sandy. She’s the only one who knows about you, and she’s sworn to secrecy. She was asking today if she could come visit you sometime. How do you feel about that?” He watched her eyes for some reaction, but there was none. “Can she come?”

  Pork nodded.

  “Good. Now, there is one other person I need to bring here one of these days. She wants to see this place.”

  “Who?” Pork asked, and Steven took a deep breath before attempting to explain.

  “I’ve been going to a counselor for a while now, Pork.”

  “What coun—?” Pork struggled to say the word.

  Steven had no idea how to explain what a counselor was, but he gave it his best shot. “A counselor is a person you talk to when you have problems.”

  “Problem? Steee-ven have problem?” Pork asked, pulling away a curly strand of hair that had entered her mouth. Her eyes were wide.

  “Remember I told you about this kid from school called Butch a while ago?” Pork nodded. “I found out he torched our tree house. I don’t know how he found this place. He must’ve followed me after school or something. Anyway, I punched him in the face when I found out, and I got caught. The principal told my momma that I needed counseling because of my behavior.” Steven shrugged. “So I’ve being going ever since.”

  “Steven tell couns Pork?”

  “No, I didn’t tell the counselor about you. But I accidentally mentioned Mildred and this house. I guess it’s all right, ’cause I managed without telling her too much. But she wants to see this house and I have to let her. The thing is, I need you to hide when she comes—like you hid when Fenton came. Can you do that for me?”