by RS Anthony
Pork nodded with a smile. Steven was beside himself. She was so easy to get along with, never demanding or critical of his decisions. He got up and kissed her cheek. “You know, there’s this big tank of fish in the counselor’s office. The fish are orange and they kind of glow in a luminescent purple light. It’s hypnotic.”
“What hypnot?”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” They lay on the floor in silence again and Steven folded his arms behind his head. “I’m going to take care of you, Pork. When I’m older, I’m going to get a better job than washing cars at Bob’s and build us a bigger house than this. We’ll have cats and dogs and fish and we’ll have a TV just like Aunt Therese’s. Have you watched a TV before, Pork?” Steven turned to look at her and Pork shrugged. “You’ll love it.”
The two of them went on talking about Steven’s dreams, and when there was a lull in the conversation, they fell asleep. Steven woke up at daybreak and scrambled back home to face his momma at the door. She had just gotten back from the diner and did not look happy to see him.
“Don’t tell me you were at the tree house, Stevie.” His momma glared.
“I… I fell asleep.”
“Where? At Bob’s?” she said, mocking him.
“I’m sorry.” Steven felt his bladder loosen and he was on the verge of tears.
She stood with her arms folded. “Where were you?”
“I… I was at the tree house place.”
His momma sighed and closed her eyes.
“The tree house is gone, Stevie. Now tell me the truth.”
“I had another house built on the ground where the tree house used to be. I was supposed to come home but I fell asleep there,” he said in a rush. Tears fell freely down his cheeks.
“Stevie,” she said. “What is so damn special about that place that you absolutely have to be there every single day?”
“Please, momma, I’m sorry,” he sobbed, his vision blurred by tears.
“Fine, fine,” his momma said, closing her eyes. She pinched the bridge of her nose and Steven wondered if his latest transgression had been forgiven. When she opened her eyes again, she said, “I received a call from Dr. Simmons yesterday at work. At least I know you’ve been seeing her like I told you to. She asked to see me today at two.”
“Why? What for?” He wiped the tears off his face and sniffled.
“Said she needed to discuss something about you. Do you know what it’s about?”
Steven shook his head. It seemed to him like Dr. Simmons had been going around talking to everybody about him and the ground house.
“All we ever do is talk. She asks questions and I answer. It’s nothing.” He shrugged.
“Okay. I’ll go and see what it’s all about. Now, go get ready. I don’t want you to be late for school.”
Feeling relieved at his momma’s composure, Steven wiped his tears and did as he was told.
Chapter 13
It was finally Friday. Since Pork had agreed to let Sandy come visit, Steven decided to invite her to come by on Saturday. He planned to inform Bob that he’d be late and maybe put in a few extra hours in the evening, since Bob’s got flooded with cars during the weekends. That would make both Bob and Sandy happy. But with Dr. Simmons, he had to be more careful. He needed to clean the place up and remove all traces of Pork’s existence so the counselor wouldn’t find out. She was a smart old lady, so he’d have to go through the place with a fine-tooth comb before he allowed her to visit.
“Hi, Sandy,” Steven said when he saw her that morning. Molly wasn’t around, and Sandy was sitting hunched over a textbook. Ms. Clapthorne was giving them a test in an hour.
“Hi.” Sandy looked up and bit the corner of her lip.
“Will you be free tomorrow morning?”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday.” She thought about this for a second. “I guess so. Why?”
“I was thinking of taking you to see Pork and the new ground house, if you’d like.”
Sandy smiled, but it failed to reach her eyes. It looked like something was bothering her, but she rearranged her expression quickly. Steven decided it was the test making her nervous.
“Yes, I’d like that.”
“Great. Would you like to have lunch with me later?”
Sandy licked her lips and tucked a stray hair behind her ear.
“I’m sorry. I can’t. I promised Molly I’d join her.”
“That’s okay,” Steven said and walked to the back of the class.
***
“It’s so good to see you again, Mrs. Walthurst. Can I offer you a hot drink?” Dr. Simmons asked. Steven’s momma had just walked into her office at two that Friday afternoon. The days had become increasingly cold, so she was rubbing her hands together when Dr. Simmons’s secretary ushered her in.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
She took a seat on one of the couches and waited for Dr. Simmons to say what was on her mind. Good or bad, she wanted to be done with it as soon as possible. The woman’s time wasn’t exactly cheap. Plus, she had to be at work in three hours and had gotten little sleep.
Dr. Simmons crossed her ankles and rested her arms on her lap. “Mrs. Walthurst, you know I’ve been talking to your son Steven for a while now. I’ve also spoken to his schoolteachers and friends to determine how he is in and outside of school. I know I’ve spoken to you before about Steven, but after talking to him, I have a few things I’d like to ask you and discuss with you. It’s usually easier to help a patient when we have as much information as possible.”
“Patient? My son is a patient?”
“Well,” Dr. Simmons said, hesitating, “yes. He is.”
“What’s wrong with him? He seems fine to me.”
“Mrs. Walthurst, I have reason to believe your son might be suffering from a psychological condition.”
“What?” Steven’s momma’s face contorted in confusion. Those were some awfully big words being used about her son.
“Now, I admit I don’t have enough details yet to make an informed decision. But a case like this can be quite complex, and it requires thorough examination so we can rule out other possibilities.”
“What do you mean? What other possibilities?”
“Well, there are a number of possibilities, such as bipolar disorder or depression, but I think—”
“So you don’t really know?”
“No, Mrs. Walthurst. I can’t be sure until I have more information.”
“What do you want to know then?”
Dr. Simmons linked her fingers and leaned forward. “Do you know if anyone in your family or Steven’s father’s family has been diagnosed with any psychological disorders?”
“Well, my side of the family is in the clear, I think. But I can’t be sure of Steven’s father’s family. They definitely act like they have brain damage.” She scoffed.
Dr. Simmons nodded pensively. “How was Steven’s childhood, Mrs. Walthurst? Has he always been a loner and a tad angry? Perhaps since his father’s sudden departure?”
Steven’s momma looked at the window and shook her head with a tinge of sadness in her eyes.
“Stevie was close to his pa. He used to bring the boy everywhere he went. Stevie loved spending time with his pa. I believe he even built that tree house for his little boy. Did Stevie tell you about the tree house?” Dr. Simmons nodded, and Steven’s momma sighed. “And then one day, he just left.” She shook her head. “Sure, it was difficult on all of us and Stevie was disappointed, but I doubt it’s still bothering him. It’s been years.”
Dr. Simmons nodded again.
“How are things financially, Mrs. Walthurst?”
“Well, I’m working three jobs now. We’re coping,” she said, shrugging.
“I’m sorry to be asking this, but is there someone in Steven’s life who currently acts as a father figure to him?”
Steven’s momma swallowed hard, thinking of the men who came and went at all hours of the night. She shook he
r head.
“No.”
“I see. Would you mind telling me how your relationship is with your son?”
“I have a fine relationship with my son, not that it’s any of your business!” she spat.
Dr. Simmons took a deep breath and walked to the window. A moment later, she turned to Steven’s momma and smiled. “I’m sorry if I upset you, Mrs. Walthurst. My intention was to get an idea of his interests and after school activities. If you were close to him, which I’m sure you are, you’d be able to shed some light on these areas.”
Steven’s momma shifted in her seat and swallowed again. “The kid’s interested in a lot of stuff. He liked his guitar before it was burned to a crisp, that tree house, and—and that car wash place, Bob’s. He loves working there. And he’s close to that girl Sandy.” She felt proud that she wasn’t totally excluded from her son’s life and lifted her chin confidently.
“The tree house that his father built, tell me about it.”
“Well, I don’t know much about it. I only found out after the fire that he’d been going there.”
“Did he know his father built the tree house? Is that why he’d been going there?”
“No. I don’t think he knew that until after the fire.”
Dr. Simmons nodded. “Have you been to the tree house?”
“No.”
“Steven told me he recently built another house where the old tree house used to be. Did you know that?”
“Yeah, he told me this morning, but I haven’t seen it.”
“I think you and I need to go see it.”
“Why?”
Dr. Simmons sighed and returned to her seat. She linked her fingers on the desk again and said, “Mrs. Walthurst, this is going to come as a surprise to you, but do you remember Steven’s friend, Sandy?”
“Yeah. What about her?”
“Sandy revealed a lot of things about Steven when I spoke with her.” Dr. Simmons paused.
“What did she say?”
“She said there’s a little girl living at the house he recently built. He’s been providing the girl shelter and food.”
“What? That’s nonsense.” Steven’s momma’s eyes were wide.
“I don’t see any reason why she’d lie. I tried to get more details as to who this girl is, but poor Sandy was so scared. She had promised Steven she’d keep it a secret, so she wouldn’t tell me how the girl got there. All I know is that she has an unusual name: Pork.”
Steven’s momma’s mind reeled back to Ferguson’s words that day after the fire. He had said Steven was looking for a girl. It all made sense to her now. She closed her eyes and laid her forehead on the desk.
“Mrs. Walthurst, are you all right?” Steven’s momma nodded. Dr. Simmons walked to the refrigerator, removed a bottle of water, and poured some into a glass. “Here, drink some water.”
Steven’s momma took it and finished it in a single gulp. “I should have known. Ferguson said something about it but I didn’t take it seriously. My God.”
“What is it, Mrs. Walthurst?”
“My neighbor Ferguson saw Stevie at the tree house when it caught fire. He said Stevie kept saying there was a girl in there. Ferguson said Stevie kept calling ‘Pork.’” Steven’s momma shook her head. “Mrs. Thatcher was right. It is easier for him to talk to a stranger than his teachers or his own momma.”
Dr. Simmons sighed. “That’s usually the case, Mrs. Walthurst. But, please bear in mind, he did not tell me about Pork himself. He only told Sandy. But you shouldn’t take it personally. By the sound of it, they’re best friends, and as you know, it’s common for friends to keep each other’s secrets. The only reason I managed to get Sandy to reveal anything is because I’m trained in child psychology.” Steven’s momma nodded. “I think the depression that set in when his father left him has led Steven to project himself as the protector of this little girl. My guess is that she ran away from a dysfunctional family and somehow found Steven. What he doesn’t realize is that he is not equipped to provide the kind of care and assistance the girl may need. My concern, though, is that if we’re not careful about how we remove this girl from his care, he might spiral into a much deeper state of depression, and that could be dangerous. As you can see, it’s a delicate situation.”
Steven’s momma was at a loss for words. She rose abruptly and clutched the edge of the table, feeling light-headed.
“Mrs. Walthurst, are you all right?” Dr. Simmons rose in a panic and extended her arms just in case the woman fell.
Steven’s momma raised a hand and said, “I’m okay. I’m okay. I just… I just need a moment to absorb all this.”
“Sure.” Dr. Simmons nodded. “Is there anything else I can get you? Another glass of water, perhaps?”
Steven’s momma shook her head. A moment later, she walked over to the window and stared out as Dr. Simmons’s eyes followed her. She remained silent for a long time, then shook her head and said, “I can’t believe my boy is…” She paused. “I didn’t know it was this bad. I mean, just listening to how much you’ve already found out about him.” She closed her eyes and shook her head again. Tears flowed down her cheeks. When she opened her eyes, she looked at Dr. Simmons with anguish. “I’m scared for my boy.”
“Mrs. Walthurst, I understand how frightening this must be for you. But we can fix this. A lot of children go through some form of anxiety in their young lives, but with the right kind of intervention, they can live normally, and even be happy. We can help Steven become a normal fifteen-year-old boy again. And we can help that girl he’s been caring for. It’s not a hopeless situation. I really need you to believe that, Mrs. Walthurst,” Dr. Simmons said with calm conviction.
A minute later, Steven’s momma nodded. “What are you going to do?”
“I’d like to meet both of them at the house he’s built. I think I’ll be able to talk him into handing the girl over to the state without distressing him too much. Once that’s out of the way, we can run some tests and begin treatment on Steven so he can become a happier, more confident young man.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I suggest you and I go to the tree house place and talk to them tomorrow. Sandy told me he always drops by there in the mornings to check up on Pork. ”
“You want me to go with you?”
“Yes. But I must caution you, Mrs. Walthurst. He needs to see you as a supportive mother who won’t punish him for what he has done. He needs to see that you can accept him, so he will trust you and be open enough to start over. If he sees you yelling or cursing, there’s a high chance he will immediately build a wall around himself and retreat behind it to avoid all of us. If that happens, there’s no guarantee we’ll be able to reach him again. Can you promise me that, Mrs. Walthurst?”
Steven’s momma’s face crumpled, but she nodded.
***
Steven went home that night totally spent after another long day. All he wanted to do when he finally reached the front door of his momma’s house was take a shower and collapse in his bed. He had no mental capacity for anything else.
When he pushed the door open, he was instantly assaulted by an array of delicious aromas. The soft orange light in the hall did not reveal his momma, and he was grateful for that. He stepped back to see if the delicious smell was wafting from Ferguson’s house. But their front door and windows were locked. The smell was definitely coming from his momma’s house. Steven had only had a small roll when he went to see Pork because he wasn’t really hungry. But now, at the threshold of his momma’s house, his stomach growled. Steven took a step forward and entered the house. The dirty clothes that were usually strewn about the living room had been replaced by clean ones, folded and stacked on the couch. His momma’s blanket was also folded and placed neatly on top of her pillow. The ever-present vodka bottle was missing, and the ashtray was empty.
Steven stepped cautiously into the kitchen. At first, he could not be sure who was standing at the stove. But as he
concentrated, he realized it was his momma. Clad in a clean white blouse and a floral skirt with an apron tied at her back, she was bending down with her arms extended to remove something from the oven. He glanced around and saw a fresh garden salad and mashed potatoes set out on the small plastic table. There was also a small tray of chocolate cake and a jar of guava juice. His mouth watered as his mother rose with a tray of meatloaf and flicked the oven closed with a foot. And then she saw him standing in the doorway.
“Hi, Stevie. I made dinner,” she said, showing him the meatloaf. Steven gaped. He didn’t know what else to do. She hadn’t cooked since his pa left, and now this? She leaned over and placed the meatloaf on the table. “Do you want to put your backpack away so we can eat?” she asked, untying her apron.
He nodded dumbly and threw his backpack into his bedroom before bolting back to the kitchen. His momma had put two plates on the table and was scooping mashed potato onto one of them. His eyes scanned the array of food and his stomach demanded that he dig in right away. When his momma carved the meatloaf, a juicy, delicious smell rose and filled the kitchen. Steven sat down and watched his momma as she placed the slices on his plate and handed it to him. He swallowed hard and sunk the fork in before his momma even had a chance to sit. She smiled.
When he was halfway through his food, Steven finally slowed down and looked up at his momma. Chewing calmly on a piece of lettuce, she didn’t look like his momma at all. Not the way she’d looked since his pa left, anyway. She looked… different.
“Why aren’t you at work?” he asked.
“I took a day off from Bildey’s today. I wanted to cook and clean our place a little bit. I’ll be leaving after one for my shift at Winnie’s,” she said, and Steven nodded. “From now on, I want you to know that I’ll cook every day and you won’t have to make sandwiches anymore.” Steven nodded again. “I promise I won’t drink anymore either. I just…” She took a moment to think and then said, “I want you to know that starting from today, I will be here for you, and you won’t have to worry about anything. And you can talk to me about anything you want.” She smiled nervously. She didn’t want to say too much before they met Pork, but she needed him to believe he could count on her from now on.