Who We Are

by T. J. Klune

  These are questions that Otter and I asked ourselves but had no answers to. We agreed to allow the Kid to see Dominic, as long as there was one of us around to keep an eye on things and to make sure Dominic didn’t see a pair of scissors he felt he needed to pick up. We’d snickered quietly at this, unable to stop ourselves, both of us blushing at the horror of it all. I wondered if I could do something like that, if the situation called for it. I’d only had to think for a moment about someone going after the Kid or Otter before some baser, more primal thing in me made me understand you’d bet your sweet fucking ass I would do the same. I assume most people would. If need be.

  That doesn’t mean you’d stay sane, afterward. Even if you were a child when it happened.

  I’m about to look ahead again when I hear the Kid confess quietly that he’s a bit nervous, that he’s worried he’ll get made fun of. I’m about to reassure him that he’ll be fine, that if anything goes wrong, he can call me immediately, when I’m stopped by Dominic’s low voice. He’s speaking to be heard over the noise of the Jeep, and I can make out his words, rough and worn. “You don’t need to be scared,” he says. “I’ll be right next door. If you need me, I’ll come running, okay?”

  The Kid nods. Otter and I listen.

  “Besides, don’t go thinking the worst in people, okay? They’ll probably be a little weirded out by you at first, and maybe a couple of people will say something to you, but it’s only because they’re jealous. You’re smarter than all the rest of them combined, and some people won’t get that. But I bet the rest think you’re the greatest thing they’ve ever seen. Just remember, though, you have any problems, you tell me, and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. No one’s gonna say something while I’m around. I’m a big guy, okay?”

  The Kid nods again, looking strangely relieved. Dominic smiles quietly at him and reaches up and pats Ty on the shoulder, once, twice, and then drops his big hand back down onto his lap. I try to ignore that burn of jealousy, so very different from what I’d experienced with Otter. Who is this guy? I ask myself yet again. Who is this guy that can come in and do what’s taken others years to do? He’s mine! He’s mine, and you can’t take him away from me!

  I feel shame at having such thoughts.

  We drive the rest of the way in silence.

  WE PULL up in front of Tyson’s school. I tell Dominic to sit tight for a moment, and we’ll drive him next door to the high school. He bumps fists with the Kid, who grins at him and jumps out, seemingly more calm than he’d been before. The Kid insists on walking in on his own (after all, he says, he has done this once or twice), and I almost argue with him, but Otter touches my hand gently and shakes his head. I put on a smile that feels tight and fake and wave at the Kid as he starts to walk away, getting lost in a crowd of other kids. I’ve turned back toward the Jeep when I’m tackled from behind, little arms going around my waist, a face pressed against the small of my back. I reach up and pat the Kid’s hands gently, and he spins me around and pulls me down by my hand, a vise grip on it.

  “Can I call you on my lunch break?” he whispers in my ear, a furtive glance toward the car making me understand he doesn’t want his cool new best friend to overhear him. “Just to say hi?”

  Ah, man. “You can,” I tell him softly. “Just as long as it’s not going to get you in trouble for using the phone. You call me for anything, you got me?”

  He nods, playing with my fingers.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you in?”

  The Kid takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I think I can do it.

  You think I’ll be okay?”

  I smile at him, and he grins back at me. “I know you’ll be okay,” I tell him. “Even better than that.”

  “Hey,” he says as he drops my hand.

  “Hey, yourself,” I say back.

  His eyes find mine, and he again proves he knows me better than I know myself: “I love you, you know? Just because Dominic is here doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop needing you. I’ll always need you, Papa Bear, so don’t worry.

  Okay?”

  Christ. I nod, not trusting myself to speak. He watches me for a moment, making sure that I believe him, and then lets go of my hand, high-fives a waiting Otter and turns back to wave at Dominic in the car.

  And then he’s gone.

  WE’RE pulling out of the parking lot and getting reading to head next door, and I’m trying to think about what I want to say, if anything, to Dominic, when he decides for me: “I’m not going to hurt him.”

  “What?” I say, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice. Otter reaches over and takes my hand in his, his fingers intertwining in mine, squeezing gently. He nods subtly at me, and I turn back to look at Dominic, whose dark eyes are waiting for me.

  “That’s what you’re thinking,” he rumbles. “You’re wondering if I’m going to hurt him.”

  “That’s not—” I start, but then I stop myself. Anything further would be a lie. He knows it, I know it. He’s probably expecting it. How many people would lie to his face? How many would tell him that of course they don’t believe that, that of course they trust him, how could they not? Those same people are the ones that are probably the most afraid of him. I need him to know I’m not afraid of him. “Can you be sure?” I ask, changing tact.

  He looks momentarily surprised at my boldness, but quickly covers it up under that hard exterior of his. He looks out the window while we wait for the light to change. It’s starting to rain a light mist. Otter flips on the windshield wipers, and they brush back and forth.

  “Yes,” Dominic finally says. “I would never hurt him. Although, I could see why you’d think so. Georgia told you what happened?”

  “She did,” Otter confirms, his voice stern. “But I would have recognized your name, so don’t be mad at her.”

  He shakes his head. “I’m not mad at her. She was right to tell you.”

  Another thought takes over my mind. “You haven’t told Tyson, have you?”

  “No,” he says roughly. “He doesn’t need to hear about that. He’s just a little guy, you know?”

  I nod because I do know. I nod because I think the same thing. I nod because I feel a guilty relief that Dominic has not shared his darkness with my little brother, and it’s the only thing I can do without actually saying those hurtful words out loud.

  Suddenly, Dominic looks panicked. “You aren’t going to take him away, are you?” he asks in a croak, his voice louder than I’ve ever heard it.

  “You aren’t going to tell him he can’t see me?” His looks down at his hands, playing with a hole on the thigh of his jeans. He bounces a leg up and down, his hair falling into his face.

  “No,” Otter says, “but we are going to want to get to know you, Dominic. I’m sure Ty’s told you at least part of what’s going on, what with custody petitions and all, and we can’t take any chances. With anything. I like you, I really do, but Ty’s the most important thing here. He comes first.

  Always.”

  Dominic nods as we pull into the parking lot of the high school, the rain falling harder now. We get in line behind other cars, waiting until we’re at the drop-off point to let him out. “And that’s how it should be,” he says. He hesitates but then says, “Can she take him away?”

  “She could,” I say, knowing there’s no question as to the “she” he’s referring to. “But not without one hell of a fight. You may not know us real well, Dominic, but you have to know that I’ve cared for Tyson long before you came into the picture. He’s mine, and I won’t let anyone take him from me.” I’m speaking about more than my mother, and I think he knows it.

  Dominic looks back out the window. “I told him that he has to go to therapy. I told him I’d gone, though I didn’t really tell him why. I made up some stuff about it, about why I live with fosters. But I told him that the therapy will help him and you in the long run, not because he’s crazy or weird, but because he has to do it if you’re going to
get him.”

  “Has therapy helped you?” I ask before I can stop myself.

  He looks at me sharply. “I’d like to think so. But then, it’s only been six years. Things like that don’t just go away because we want them to.”

  I don’t even know how to respond to that, so I choose not to. “We’re going to need to meet your fosters,” I tell him. “If you’re going to be hanging around our house, then they need to know who we are, and why you’re over there. I don’t want to create any issues for you, but I especially don’t want any problems with Ty. We’re in a position where everything we do is going to be catalogued and scrutinized, and I can’t have any mistakes being made.”

  He looks resigned at this. “Yeah,” he sighs. “I’ll do it for Tyson. Just don’t expect much.”

  “What do you mean?” Otter asks as he moves the Jeep forward. We’re almost to the front of the line.

  “Patty and Bert are nice people,” he says. “But they’re not the most open-minded when it comes to… certain things.”

  “What things?” I ask, honestly baffled.

  “He means us,” Otter tells me, his eyebrows scrunched together.

  “Right?”

  “Yeah. They’re not… vocal about it, but you can tell it makes them uncomfortable. There was another foster kid with us last year. His name was Jared. He was angry, like most of the kids that come to their house are. He came out with a chip on his shoulder, thought he could just blast the closet door down or something, I guess. Patty and Bert just didn’t get it, and Jared left.” He shrugs. “Just one of those things.”

  “Georgia says you don’t talk a lot,” I say suddenly. He looks surprised.

  “But you seem to talk to us and Ty just fine.”

  He looks down at his hands, and if I didn’t know any better, I would say he’s blushing. “Yeah, well,” he mumbles. “I talk. Tyson was just the first person to listen. And he said you two do as well, and I’ve learned if Tyson says something, it’s true. So….” He trails off. I know he thinks he said too much, but I think he’s said exactly the right thing.

  I make a decision. “We’ll pick you and Tyson up this afternoon at three.

  We’ll take you home and meet Patty and Bert. Will they be home?”

  He nods slowly. “Patty will be. Bert will be getting up as he goes to work at six.”

  “Good. We’ll talk to them, introduce ourselves, make sure everything is cool. Then, no one can say that there was any sneaking around behind other’s backs. Agreed?”

  Dominic looks like he thinks it’s the worst idea in the world, but he nods.

  “Don’t be so freaked out,” Otter admonishes him lightly. “Bear may not sound like it all the time, but he can actually be quite charming. You’ll see.”

  I roll my eyes. “A lot of the time, I don’t think you’re very funny.”

  “I’m the funniest person you know,” he reassures me.

  “How sad is that?” I sigh.

  “Ass,” he says, grinning at me.

  Dominic is watching us both with something in his eyes that I can’t quite make out, but then it’s gone, and he takes a deep breath and seems to come to a decision of his own. “Three?”

  I nod.

  “I’m not a bad person,” he says as he reaches for the door handle,

  “although, I understand why you’d want to protect your brother. I just want to protect him too.”

  “From what?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  He watches me for a moment before saying, “Everything,” and he closes the door, walking out into the rain.

  THE meeting with the foster parents goes as well as one would expect if one was asked if he liked little boys. More on that in a minute, trust me.

  Tyson looked like he was in a joyous rapture when Dominic showed him the room that he shared with a twelve-year-old boy with a severe case of Asperger’s Syndrome. Dominic’s side of the room was almost bare, the walls empty, a twin bed that looked entirely too small for his massive size pressed up against the wall, covered with a worn quilt and a flat pillow. The room was small and stuffy, but Tyson grinned as he walked in, looking around the room like it was in a mansion, until he faltered a bit and glanced at his friend. “Where’s all your stuff?” he demanded as I started to walk out.

  “I don’t have a lot of stuff,” Dominic said quietly. “I’m never in a home for a long time, so I guess I don’t see the point of putting anything up.”

  “Well, maybe if you started, you could stay,” the Kid said wisely.

  “Maybe,” Dominic said.

  I was impressed with how intelligent Dominic seemed, how bright and caring, especially given his history. He’d called his foster parents on the way back to the house to let them know we were coming over, his voice polite, but firm. When we’d arrived, he’d introduced us to Patty and Bert, asking if we wanted anything to drink or eat before taking Tyson to show him his bedroom. I was impressed because I didn’t expect it.

  I wish I could say the same for Patty and Bert.

  While not outright rude, they were rather reserved. They seemed to be quiet, demure people. I wondered at their reasons for having foster kids in their house, especially since their house almost seemed to be a brief stopping point, if the number of pictures of children on the walls were any indication. What would be the point of getting attached to someone, knowing full well that one day they’d move on? This was a question I didn’t dwell on long, because it seemed to be too close to home for me to want to focus on.

  Otter and I kept our hands to ourselves, but you could tell they were expecting more, like we’d skip into the room, holding hands before getting down and fucking right in front of them. Maybe that’s me sounding bitter, I don’t know. But the looks on their faces, not quite disgust, not quite fear, said more than their words ever could. They weren’t short with us, but more clipped and forced. I understood only when Patty mentioned that she’d talked to Georgia, and that Georgia was urging the friendship between Dominic and the Kid. It made me like them just a bit more, because even if they didn’t approve of whatever, they still appeared to have Dominic’s best interest at heart.

  “What is it about your brother?” Patty asked me after we heard a rusty chuckle come from Dominic back in the bedroom. “Dominic’s been here for five months, and I think I can count the number of times he’s laughed on one hand.”

  “I wish I knew,” I said. “Ty’s… well, he’s Tyson. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

  Patty hesitated before asking, “And Dominic told us you’re trying to get custody of him?”

  Otter nodded. “Maybe that’s the reason they bonded,” he said. “While the Kid may not have seen the same things Dominic has, he’s still been through a lot.”

  “Where’s your parents?” Bert asked bluntly. “You two got the same mom, right?”

  I nodded, feeling my jaw tense. “We don’t know where she’s at,” I muttered. “She took off three years ago, and that was that.” That was most certainly not that, but they didn’t need to know. I wanted to meet them, not become best friends forever.

  “And you two are…,” Bert said, pointing between the two of us. “You know….”

  Otter cocked his head. “Know what?”

  “Homos, or whatever.”

  “Bert!” Patty exclaimed, her face going pink.

  “What?” he said, looking insulted. “We got a right to know.” He turned back to us. “Well?”

  “If you’re asking us if we’re together, then yes,” Otter said calmly.

  “And you ain’t gonna touch Dominic or nothin’?”

  “Bert!” Patty shrieked.

  Otter felt me beginning to rise up next to him, ready to smash the cheap coffee table in front of us over Bert’s head, wanting to make the splinters go in his eyes and to watch him bleed. I have been accused of being many things in my life: a jerk, a liar, an indecisive asshole. But I’ve never been asked with such nonchalance if I’m a pedop
hile. I wanted to break his face open just to see what was underneath. But Otter, ever the voice of sanity and reason, grabbed my arm and pulled me back down before I had a chance to do anything, telling Bert rather coldly that no, we weren’t going to touch Dominic.

  Bert nodded as if satisfied, completely unaware of his bigoted mouth.

  “Georgia says it’s good for him, then I guess that’s enough for me. It’ll be nice to get him out of the house. He’s got emotional issues, you know.”

  “Don’t we all?” I bit out.

  He waved a hand in dismissal. “Don’t rightly know about that. I just know he’s a creepy little shit. Can’t blame him, though, not after what he’s been through. Stabbed his dad seven times, in case you didn’t know. And least with the other kids, it’s usually physical. With Dom, it’s mental, and that’s the worst kind. But we get paid by the state just the same, so as long as he doesn’t think about slitting my throat while I sleep, then we’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Otter said, keeping his cool. “We just wanted to make sure you knew where he’d be if he wasn’t here.”

  “And Tyson’s welcome here anytime he wants,” Patty said, trying to recover from her husband’s faux pas. She blushed again. “I know a thing or two about kids.”

  “Thank you,” I said, all the while thinking that there was no way in hell the Kid would ever be allowed to come over to Dominic’s house. His friend can come over to our house, fine. But Tyson needs to stay clear of a man who just asked Otter and me if we wanted to fuck around with a fifteen-year-old. I don’t know if he’d try to drip any poison in the Kid’s ears with such blatant offhanded comments, but I wasn’t willing to take any chances.

  “Dominic, get your ass out here!” Bert yelled while Patty smiled at Otter and me. Much was said in that smile, and I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of that house. These had to be good people if they were allowed to have foster kids, I kept telling myself. Georgia had said they were okay. But then I wondered what kind of people Georgia was used to dealing with, and I’m sure by comparison, Bert and Patty were Parents of the Year. I didn’t know their story, and even though I wasn’t about to ask, I wasn’t going to judge.