Sam's Theory

by Sarah Mendivel

  Theory snapped back into the moment. “Yes, wonderful idea. I’m sure you’re all tired. I can show you to your rooms.”

  Rishawn raised his hand. “Miss Theory? Um, I was wonderin’ if we could all sleep together tonight. That’s what we usually do.”

  Theory tilted her head and smiled. “Of course, Rishawn. I should have known that already. I’ll bring blankets for you, and you can camp together here in the living room tonight. Sound okay?”

  “Thanks,” said Rishawn, with a giant smile across his face.

  Theory winked at him and walked into the library to grab extra blankets. I followed her, looking behind me to make sure the rest of the group was out of earshot “Hey, Theory? Are you sure it’s okay that we all stay here tonight?”

  “Of course, kiddo,” she said without looking up. “You never have to ask. Besides, I was half expecting you.”

  But I wasn’t really asking for permission to have my friends over; I was trying to ask her if she was okay herself. It seemed like an easy enough question, but I didn’t know if I was allowed to ask it. Instead, I tried to guess what might have made her sad in the living room just now. “We’re all okay, you know. We do well together.”

  Theory stopped stacking blankets and looked up at me. Even though she was smiling, her eyes still seemed sad. “I can see that. You’ve been telling me about them for so long that I feel like I know them. It’s nice to have everyone here in person. You got very lucky with this group, Sam.”

  “Yeah,” I said, reflecting on how close we had all become recently. “I did.”

  “And you will continue do well together when you leave here,” she added.

  Something about how she phrased that sentence made an alarm bell of panic go off inside of me. “Well, we aren’t leaving yet. And our camp is only a few miles away still. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Theory looked at me with a wisdom that defied the ages. “Sam, I know you are comfortable here. It makes me feel happy that you have grown so confident in these woods. But soon it will be time for you to leave the mountain and live out your purpose. It’s what’s meant to be.”

  The alarm grew louder, making it hard to hear my own thoughts. “Leave the mountain? No, no way. This is where I live though; it’s where I belong.”

  Theory stepped toward me, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Of course this is where you belong, kiddo. You will always belong here,” she reassured me. “But this place is not meant to act as your forever place. You have really big, important things to do in this life that involve adventures outside of this tree house, Lake Isabel, and this peninsula all together.”

  “But,” I said, near tears. “this is where you are.”

  Theory took a deep breath, clearly holding back her own tears. “Kiddo, I will always be with you in some way. You have already learned how to take my words with you while you are out exploring the world. You have also become more confident on your own again. These are positive changes that mean our work together is almost complete. Sam, your purpose is greater than any one person or place. You need to remember that, and embrace it.”

  I swallowed back the impossible pain that came with the idea of having to leave Theory. I had grown so comfortable knowing that she was always around that I had never once considered having to leave her. I was so used to her constantly listening to me, offering endless advice, and knowing when it was time to push myself. How was I going to do all of that on my own? Had I really learned enough to be able to leave so soon? What if something bad happened again? Could I remember everything she had taught me? Would I still be a strong person if she wasn’t around to tell me I was?

  I knew she was right, even if it didn’t feel good hearing it. I had been thinking more and more of what I was meant for recently. I had laid awake, on too many star-filled nights to count, fantasizing about how to save more kids. Wondering what the world would look like if just a single generation of kids grew up without abuse. I could help make this happen; I had already started to. But did I want all of that at the cost of leaving Theory? Or was this how life worked? You meet people that make you stronger for the next adventure you’re meant to go on? Was this whole experience just one part of a much longer story?

  My tears had found their way down the sides of my face, giving away the avalanche of sadness that was blitzing through me. Theory handed me a tissue. “Oh, Sam. I know, kiddo. I know.”

  “Sorry,” was all I could manage to say.

  “Listen, kiddo, you aren’t leaving tonight. So let’s just focus on what’s happening right now. Tonight you are still here with me, sleeping in the tree house, surrounded by your new family. Everyone is safe and taken care of. You and I will take things one day at a time, until leaving feels right to you. I will follow your lead. Okay?”

  I wiped my eyes free of tears, sniffling to regain my composure. “Yeah, okay.”

  “All right then,” she said, picking the stack of blankets back up. “Let’s go see if your crew is still laughing over you falling over a cliff.”

  I burst into laughter, grateful for Theory’s inevitable ability to end hard conversations with humor. “Okay.”

  We walked into the living room to find the group already sprawled out and sleeping. Rishawn, with his feet in Mikayla’s face, was snoring softly. Dodger was using his arm as a pillow, breathing deeply next to a neatly piled stack of used sandwich plates. Theory and I gently placed blankets on everyone before quietly saying goodnight to one another.

  “Sam?” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “Everything will always be all right, remember?”

  I smiled, feeling proud of how far she and I had come. “Yes, thank you. I remember.”

  “Okay. G’nite, kiddo,” she winked.

  “Goodnight, Theory.”

  With the lights off, and only the soft snores of my smaller friend to fill the silence, I parked myself in the middle of the living room floor and pulled a wool blanket up to my chin. I thought of what my life would look like without Theory in it every day. I thought of her living by herself again, wondering if she would be okay without me.

  Frustrated by the “what if” scenarios I couldn’t quite answer, I rolled onto my side and peered out the living room window. Outside, on the branch of a nearby tree, fluttered a stellar’s jay. He sat in the moonlight for a moment, tilting his head the way Theory did when she was listening. As quickly as he had landed, he took off into the night. I smiled, somehow knowing suddenly that Theory was right in that she’d always be around. I closed my eyes and decided to trust the universe on this one for now.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Sounds of metal forks sliding over ceramic dishes echoed off the walls of Theory’s kitchen as we all hurriedly finished our breakfast.

  “Hey, Theory, you gonna show us how to use that stuff downstairs?” Rishawn asked with his mouth full of food.

  “Rishawn! Close your guy dang mouth when you eatin’,” scolded Mikayla.

  “I am!” he yelled back at her, trying to hide the food in his mouth by tilting his head back when he spoke.

  “So annoying! What’re you even talkin’ about, ‘stuff downstairs’,” Mikayla said, doing her best to not slap her cousin out of frustration.

  “Ms. Theory told me about a printing press she has downstairs,” Rishawn bragged.

  Mikayla shot her eyes up at Theory suspiciously. Theory was quick to recover. “I did mention that as we were cooking this morning, before everyone woke up. I was thinking it would be fun to fiddle around with some things down there and see what we can create.”

  “Hmph,” said Mikayla, unimpressed.

  Rishawn rolled his eyes, then leaned toward Theory. “Ya gonna still show us, right?”

  Theory chuckled. “Only if you promise not to get crumbs all over everything.”

  Rishawn covered his mouth and giggled. Theory winked, making sure the atmosphere stayed in a positive space.

  I watched Dodger slowly finish the last of his toast,
wondering why he was being so quiet. Something seemed to be bothering him. I leaned toward him and whispered. “Hey, you okay?”

  Without looking up, he pretended to be really into his food. “Hm? Yeah, I’m good.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I’m cool. Promise,” he said, glancing at me, then back down at his plate. Knowing I wouldn’t get an answer out of him in front of other people, I let it go.

  Rishawn chirped back up. “Hey, so whadda we gonna make, Ms. Theory?”

  “Oh, well that’s up to you, young sir.”

  “Hmmm,” replied Rishawn, dramatically leaning on his fist pretending to be deep in thought.

  “Well, mm, I actually had an idea,” I said, surprising even myself.

  Theory turned toward me smiling. “Oh?”

  I looked at Dodger, who was still lost in the contents of his disappearing plate. Mikayla was also shuffling around the last of her eggs. Since the group seemed distracted, I figured it was a good time to pitch an idea they’d only half-hear. “Well, you know the rules we painted our leaves on?”

  “Yeah,” said Rishawn immediately, always fully attentive to everything around him.

  “Well, I was thinking they’ve worked really well for us up until now. I mean, they’ve helped us get along and have reminded us that we deserve better than how we’ve been treated by other people,” I explained, suddenly growing nervous that no one would like my idea.

  Without fail, Theory caught my hesitation. “Go on.”

  I looked at her, grateful for coming to my rescue. “Well, I think it would be a good idea to write down all of those rules on paper. We can call it ‘The Orphan’s Manifesto’ and make copies of it.”

  Dodger glanced up. “Make copies for who?”

  My heart skipped a beat and I felt nervous. “Mm, I don’t know. Like, other kids?”

  Dodger peered at me. “What other kids?”

  The whole room grew quiet and everyone was now staring at me. I took a deep breath, putting my hands into the pockets of my hoodie. “The other kids we haven’t gotten to yet. Like, kids still living in rez, or foster homes, or wherever else they’re having a hard time. Other orphans that are trying to survive and don’t know how. The kids that need advice on how to create a family, you know?”

  Everyone stayed quiet. I felt the flush of embarrassment rush into my face and bowed my head. Even Theory sat in silence.

  Dodger reached across the table and offered me his hand. I looked up and shyly set my closed hand next to his fingers. He smiled gently. “Sam, I think that’s an amazing idea.”

  A flood of relief and excitement washed over me. “Really?”

  “Yeah, actually. I’m not sure why we didn’t think of it sooner,” his voice deepening.

  “I like it, too,” said Mikayla, who had lowered her defenses just long enough to rejoin the group.

  “I think that would be a wonderful use of the print shop,” added Theory, very clearly proud of my idea.

  “Thanks, guys,” I said, bashful but thrilled that they had accepted my idea.

  Theory stood up and began to clear the dishes. “All right, family of friends, let’s head downstairs for a little lesson on how to print this thing!”

  Everyone but Dodger started to scatter into the hallway. “Hey, uh, I’m gonna run back to the living room. I forgot something, but will meet you guys downstairs.”

  The group seemed to completely miss the announcement, but I fell back immediately. “Dodge, what’s going on today? You seem out of it.”

  Dodger walked up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder lovingly. “Sam, I’m good. I just forgot something and need to over and get it. I also just need to clear my head a bit and take some space. You know how being around the group too much can get sometimes.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

  “Okay,” he said, and leaned in to give me a giant bear hug. I evaporated in his arms, grateful to have a private moment with him again. He lingered, rubbed my back, then pulled away. “See ya in a sec.”

  “Okay,” I said, comforted by his touch.

  I watched him walk up the stairs to the loft, wishing he’d stay longer. As if reading my mind, he turned back around. “Hey, Sam?”

  “Yeah?”

  He smiled. “I really love your idea.”

  I smiled back, feeling as if I was falling through a galaxy of stars. “Thanks, Dodge.”

  He nodded respectfully, then headed toward the living room. I smiled so big my cheeks hurt, then rushed downstairs just in time to see Theory clicking on the machines. They hummed into the air above us as she spoke. “All right, now that I explained a bit about how to set type, who wants to take a shot at this ‘Manifesto’?”

  Rishawn jumped in place raising his hand. “Oh! Oh! I know the first rule to write down!”

  Theory laughed. “All right, kiddo. Why don’t you stand near me and I’ll help you pick a font.”

  “Yessss,” he sang, as if just winning the lottery.

  We each took turns choosing our own letters and creating lines of text. After Theory had checked all of our work, she lifted a large stack of blank paper onto the press. “So, how will this help other kids the way it has helped all of you?”

  Rishawn was hovering over his creation with great focus. “Well, I think they need to know that even though they don’t got a family n’ stuff, they can still make one with each other.”

  “Ah, that does seem quite important to know,” she said, glancing over at me. I smiled, enjoying our private side conversation.

  “Plus, kids gots to know that they can do cool stuff still, ya know? At least that’s what Sam always tells us,” he added.

  “Mm, I do know,” nodded Theory, straightening the stack of paper. “I’m glad they have someone like you to look after them.”

  “Yeah,” said Rishawn, placing his hands on his hips. “We all gonna be okay.”

  I watched Theory smile coyly, loving that I finally got to be on the other side of her working with someone.

  The morning sun passed over the circular windows until it disappeared into the afternoon shade. It wasn’t until Sage and Cadence hopped onto our workbench that I snapped out of the trance of my project just long enough to look at the clock and realize that Dodger had been gone for a while.

  My heart started to race and I felt angry. I dropped the ink roller into its tray and ran my fingers through my hair. Theory looked up at me, trying to calm me down with her gaze. I stayed quiet, but raged inside, knowing full well that Dodger had left again to find Nova without me. Where else would he have gone? I felt like an idiot for falling for his line. I couldn’t believe I actually thought he needed alone time.

  Oh well, I thought. What’s the point in trying to change his mind anymore? He could run after Nova all he wanted because, clearly, none of us were going to find her. It was useless.

  I started rolling ink over the metal typeset angrily. I did my best to pretend like I didn’t care that Dodger had lied to me again, but couldn’t quite shake it completely. It wasn’t until I felt Theory’s hand rest on my shoulder that I slowed down and looked at her with sad eyes.

  “Hey, kiddo. You okay?” she asked warmly.

  “Yeah, just annoyed,” I mumbled.

  “That Dodger left again?”

  I scrunched my brow at her and huffed. “It’s not like it matters! He’s just going to keep doing what he does all the time− which is whatever the heck he wants, apparently.”

  Theory hummed. “Mm, I see. Have you told him how much his dishonesty bothers you?”

  “Yes, of course I have,” I said, trying to watch where I placed my anger.

  “Well, then it sounds like a check-in conversation would be helpful to have, so that the two of you can be reminded of what each of you need to feel safe in your relationship.”

  I shook my head. “Yeah, we’ll see. He better be coming back with flowers and a pizza if he even wants me to look at him.”


  Theory chuckled. “Oh, well wouldn’t that make for a nice evening.”

  I shot a look at her, wanting to be angry, but saw that she was playing. Before I could banter back, Theory leaned over and gave me a hug. I dissolved in her arms, wanting it to last forever. Whatever disappointment Dodger had left me with, Theory had just replaced with her embrace.

  As she let go of me, I let go of trying to control Dodger. I couldn’t control what he did, but I could control how I would react to it. So, for now, I laid a blank piece of paper over the wet typeset and pushed it through the press to reveal the first copy of The Orphan’s Manifesto.

  It was shortly before dinner when we heard the duck call crack through the windows of the tree house. Everyone, covered in ink and tired from printing hundreds of pages of Manifesto, jumped up and ran toward the deck of the tree house.

  Rishawn got there first. “Is that Dodge?”

  “Sounded like it,” confirmed Mikayla.

  “What was that sound?” asked Theory curiously.

  “It was a duck call,” I said, gritting my teeth and preparing to yell at the guy who had just played me again.

  As I fantasized about all ways I was going to tell Dodger off, I felt Theory’s hand rest gently on my back. I looked up at her, but she continued staring forward into the trees. She was calm, and doing her best to calm me down as well. Because it was her, I took a deep breath and decided to focus on making sure Dodger was all right first.

  Another call echoed. Rishawn bounced in place. “Aww man, do you think he’s okay?”

  Mikayla squinted her eyes and scanned the horizon. “It wasn’t his danger call. He’s probably just letting us know he’s back.”

  “Screw this,” I said, ignoring Theory’s quiet suggestion to give Dodger a chance. I marched past the group and started my way down the tree. I grunted past every branch as fast as I could, thinking that the faster I got to the ground, the faster I could yell at Dodger for being unreliable and going back on his word.

  I landed on the ground and spun around to see Dodger breaking through the trees at a relaxed pace, smiling. Confused by his demeanor and even more furious he didn’t magically know that I was mad at him, I began to stomp toward him.