by David Archer
“Don't believe a word he says, Noah, he's a liar,” Molly said. “Of course I missed you, you're one of my best friends.”
I shrugged, unsure what the fuss was about. Jerry and Lizzie laughed at me, so I grinned and laughed along with them, but I wasn't sure what to say. Jerry came to my rescue.
“Noah has got like this super computer brain,” he said. “He thinks like a machine, not like a person, and he can do all kinds of stuff that no one else can.”
“Oh, yeah?” Steve asked. “Like what?”
Molly grinned and tapped me on the arm. “Noah,” she said. “Which one of us is prettier, me or Liz?”
I looked at her, then at Lizzie, and tried to figure out how to answer Molly's question. Each of them, as far as I could see, had the same general features, meaning that they each had eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth, they each had one head, two arms and two legs, and all the requisite fingers, toes and other parts that made them human. Molly's hair was brown while Lizzie's was black, but they both had brown eyes.
The problem was that I couldn't really understand the concept of pretty. There was nothing in my mind that could recognize one of the girls as being prettier than the other, simply because I didn't know what pretty was. The only way I could even pretend to understand the concept was to try to look at them in comparison to girls that I knew others thought of that way.
That was something that confused me for years, because I didn’t understand the difference between aesthetic and emotional responses. It wasn't until I read Immanuel Kant in my teens that I finally realized that aesthetics are subjective. The recognition of beauty requires an emotional component that I was missing, so I was forced to find other ways to interpret it.
We had watched a lot of television shows when I had been there before, like Sabrina, Fresh Prince of Bel Air and others, and there were girls on those shows that I had seen lots of guys mooning over. Some of the shows even had girls as young as we were, and when I thought about the way some of the boys had reacted to them, then compared them to Molly and Lizzie, I was able to determine that Lizzie, who didn't have as many freckles or bad teeth as Molly, was probably the prettier girl.
“Lizzie, because she looks like that girl on the Power Rangers show.”
Molly grinned at Steve. “See? He doesn't know which one of us is prettier, because his brain doesn't work that way, and it didn't even occur to him that he might hurt my feelings by not choosing me. He had to think about someone he could compare us to that he knew other people thought was pretty. Computers do the same sort of thing, by taking known quantities and comparing unknown variables against them, in order to arrive at a conclusion that fits their programming.”
Steve stared at me, and I could tell he didn't understand a word she had said. “Don't worry about it, Steve,” I said. “I don't even understand me, myself.”
“You don't have to understand him,” Jerry said. “But pay close attention, because he knows karate, and he's going to teach it to us.”
Steve became one of our little core group, and he and I got along pretty well. I did manage to teach them some things, and Steve and Jerry liked working out with me on the weights. Because we were all considered unlikely to be adopted, there was no effort put forth to do anything with us. We weren't paraded out before prospective adoptive parents, and it was assumed that we would simply stay in the system until we were eighteen.
That was fine by us. As far as we were concerned, we were a family, even if we weren't connected by blood. We got to see Jimmy, now and then, but he grew distant as he got older, and so we weren't able to really maintain a relationship with him. Steve took his place, and later, we gained a girl named Rosie, who also became one of us, at least for a while.
Still, it was me, Jerry, Molly and Lizzie who were closest. We had formed some sort of a bond back when I had first arrived, and it seemed to be unbreakable. Over the next few years, we made it through some very tough times by depending on one another, and they helped me to learn more and more about how to keep up my pretense as a human.
It was four years later, when I was thirteen and saw that everyone around me was getting involved in one sort of romance or another, that Molly decided I needed a girlfriend. She was still working with her tutor, but that was down to only the morning hours. In the afternoon, she was back in school with me and the others, mostly because her tutor decided she needed Phys Ed and a social life. She decided to take advantage of it, and felt that I should do likewise.
“A girlfriend?” I asked. “Why do I need a girlfriend?”
“Do you really want people to figure out that you're Pinocchio? Noah, at our ages, everybody has a boyfriend or girlfriend, it's just not natural if you don't. It makes people think weird things about you.”
We were standing in the hallway at school, all by ourselves for the moment. I looked around to make sure no one was listening, then frowned at her. “Okay, then who would you have in mind? And how are you going to get her to go along with it?”
Molly looked at me for a moment, then leaned her face down and put one hand on her forehead. “Noah,” she said, “in some ways, you're the smartest guy I know. In other ways, you're an idiot. You need a girlfriend for camouflage, to cover up the fact that you don't really need a girlfriend. Meanwhile, there’s me, who needs a boyfriend to cover up the fact that I don't have time for boyfriends. Has it not occurred to you yet that we might be able to help each other out?”
Of course, I saw her logic instantly, and immediately agreed. She coached me on how to act when others were around, such as putting an arm around her, holding hands as we walked down the halls, etc., and we both told everyone we knew that we were now a couple. Naturally, I thought that solved the whole problem, but the truth was that it started a whole new set of them.
“If we don't go out on dates,” Molly said to me that Friday, “people are going to start to wonder about us. Come on, all it means is that we go watch a movie and sit together. We hold hands, or you put your arm around me, and maybe we kiss a little bit when the lights are dim.”
“Okay,” I said. “But kissing? I don't think I even know how.”
Molly smiled at me, and took hold of my hand as she led me back to the screened-in porch. It was early in the school year, so the weather was warm, but most of the kids were in the day room. We sat down on the couch that Mrs. Connors had let us put there, and Molly said, “Kissing isn't all that bad. Just hold still, and let me show you.”
Suddenly, I began to understand some of what this romance thing was all about, and the concepts of dating and having a girlfriend weren't all that disturbing, after all.
Molly and I kept up that relationship all the way through junior high, and into high school, and we even discovered the physical pleasures of sex together, each of us surrendering our virginity to the other. Molly made sure, by complaining about irregular periods, that she had birth control pills before that point, and we enjoyed each other as often as we could.
It worked out very well for both of us, because it kept others from trying to get our attentions. Lizzie and Steve had become a rather official item around the same time that we had, and Jerry had met a girl in school that he really liked, so the six of us often went out together. A lot of the other kids seemed to be jealous of us, especially when it seemed like most of them couldn't keep a relationship together for more than a few days at a time.
I had found a martial arts studio not long after I came back to Mrs. Connors' house, and because of the training I'd already received, no one objected to me continuing. The instructor actually called Mr. Andy, and apparently he got a good reference, because he not only was willing to train me further, but he had me helping a lot of the newer kids, sort of like a tutor. I enjoyed teaching, and it wasn't long before Jerry, Steve, Molly and Lizzie had all signed up for classes, as well.
And then, things changed once more.
SEVEN
I HAD JUST turned fourteen a few months earlier, and was in my freshman y
ear of high school. Molly and I were still considered one of the most stable couples in school, and life was just going along pretty smoothly. I guess, now that I look back, I should've expected something to happen.
Ms. Gamble showed up one day, just after school, and said she needed to speak to me. We went into Mrs. Connors' little office room, and she closed the door behind her. I could tell she was a little upset about something, but I had no clue what it was.
“Noah,” she began, “I've gotten some news today, and I'm not sure how you're going to take it. I want you to keep an open mind as I tell you what's going on, can you do that for me?”
I nodded. “Sure, Ms. G,” I said. “What's the matter?”
“Well, it's not that there's anything the matter,” she said. “At least, not really. The thing is, Noah, there's something happening and I'm not sure you're going to like it, but I think it may be something really good.” She took a deep breath, then twisted her chair around so that she was facing me more directly. “Noah, there's a couple who has put in a petition to have you transferred to their foster care.”
I'm sure my eyebrows probably tried to climb up over my hairline. “Transferred? But, why? Have I done something wrong, here?” I was racking my brain, trying to think of what I might've done that would get me kicked out of Mrs. Connors' house, but I simply couldn't imagine what it might be.
“No, no, you haven't done anything wrong,” she said quickly. “It doesn't have anything to do with you being here at all. What's happening is that this is an older couple who have recently been approved as foster parents, and they had specifically asked for teenagers. We went through a list of them, and you were one of the ones they chose and asked for.”
I squinted at her. “What, you mean it's like they looked through a catalog and said, ‘I want this one and this one and this one,’ like that? But I don't want to leave here.”
Ms. Gamble looked at me, and it looked like she was about to cry. “Noah,” she said, “it's not like that at all, but the district director has agreed that they can have the ones they want. This isn't anything about you, not at all, it's about the fact that they live on a farm and they need kids who are capable of helping out around their property.”
I thought quickly. My only real objection to this plan was that I didn't want to leave my friends, but Molly had taught me well, and I knew that I had to appear to be quite upset. I thought through everything Ms. Gamble had said, and picked out little details I could use to build my act around.
I got to my feet and paced around the tiny room, running my hand through my hair. “So, they get to pick who they want to use like slaves, is that it? Who else did they pick, did they choose anyone else from here?”
She shook her head sadly. “No, I'm afraid not. They chose you and a couple of other boys from the group home. Noah, I'm afraid neither of us gets a choice in this matter. You're being transferred over there as of tomorrow.”
I spun around and looked at her. “Tomorrow? Well, how far away is this? I mean, will I still be going to the same school? Will I still get to see my friends?”
“Yes, that much I did manage to swing. It'll mean riding a bus, and you have to get up early to catch it, but you get to stay in the school you're in now.” She reached out and patted my arm, then took my hand. “Noah, I really don't think it will be all that bad. I know you, you like the outdoors and such, so living on a farm might actually be a lot of fun for you. Just tell me you're going to give it a real try, please?”
I shrugged and sat down, trying to appear defeated. I hadn't decided whether I was really going to cooperate or not, because I didn't want to make a decision like that without talking to Molly and my friends.
“I guess so,” I said. “Don't I even get to meet these folks first?”
She smiled sadly. “Well, you get to meet them tomorrow, when we take you out to move in. You won't be going to school tomorrow, and I'll be here to pick you up in the early afternoon. Make sure you've got everything packed and ready, okay?”
I agreed, and a few minutes later she left. I waited a few minutes to make sure we could have some privacy, then gathered my friends in the day room and told them what was going on.
Jerry and Steve almost surprised me, because it seemed like they were both ready to explode. I had to remind them that there really wasn't a lot of choice, since we were still minors and wards of the state. “Besides,” I said, “I get to keep going to the same high school, so I'll see you guys every day. It isn't going to be that bad.”
“No, it won't be that bad,” Molly said, “but you realize they're just making excuses, right? This isn't about these people picking you, it's about getting you out of this house. They'll be moving Steve somewhere else just about any day now, too. Just wait, you'll see.”
I didn't catch it at first, but Steve did. “Oh, man,” he said. “We should have expected it.”
And then it hit me. Molly was probably right, and they would be moving Steve pretty soon, as well. I knew enough about the system to know that it sounded pretty strange that some new foster parents would get to pick and choose who they got. The truth was that they were worried about the fact that they had teenage couples living in the same house. They had to separate me and Molly, and of course, Steve and Lizzie. Jerry didn't have so much to worry about, since his girlfriend lived with her family.
I was moved on schedule, the very next day, and introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Winston, my new foster parents. They really did have quite a farm set up, and I found myself interested in spite of the fact that I had been moved suddenly. The other two boys who were assigned there, Joe Baldwin and Kenny Price, had lived on farms before, so they were actually glad for the change from the group home.
The Winstons were very nice people, and we got along well. Life settled quickly into a new routine, one that I was very content with. I went to school like always, then would come home and help with chores around the farm. The Winstons were quite understanding about teenagers, and I was allowed to spend time with my friends on weekends, including going out with Molly and the others on Friday or Saturday nights. They even gave us guys allowance money, something they were not required to do.
Not everyone can make something work, though, and it was only a few months until both Joe and Kenny had gotten into trouble and were sent back to the group home. The Winstons didn't make any fuss about getting more kids, and I think that was because I enjoyed working around the farm. Mr. Winston and I could do just about everything on our own, and when we did need someone else, he was always ready and willing to hire one of my buddies to help out. Even Molly and Lizzie got to come out once in a while, and help out with chores around the farm. Those were all pretty good days.
But nothing stays perfect for ever. Just before I would have begun my junior year, Molly got the word that she was going home. Her parents had split up a couple of years before, and her mother had worked hard to get custody back. Unfortunately, she had also moved some distance away, so it meant an end to our relationship.
I had always thought that our entire relationship had been a sham, just camouflage to keep us both free of entanglements with someone else. The day we had to say goodbye, though, I realized that it was a lot more than that to Molly. I could tell she was upset, and I know she tried very hard not to cry, but finally she broke down and admitted to me that she felt like she was in love with me. I put my arms around her, and let her cry as I held her, because I didn't know what else to do. I thought about turning on my own tears, to try to make her feel better, but Molly knew me better than anyone else. She would've seen through it in a split second, and I had the feeling that it would've cheapened the moment for her.
Finally, she stepped back and just looked into my eyes, with tears streaming from her own. “I'm standing here with my heart broken,” she said, “and I probably look stupid to you, but I can't help it. Noah, you may be messed up in a lot of ways, but in others—in other ways, you're probably the best guy I've ever known. If things had been d
ifferent, if I got to stay here, I would've tried to hold on to you, you know that, don't you? I would have kept you twisted around my little finger, and kept giving you logical reasons for why you needed to stay with me. Sooner or later, I would've talked you into marrying me.”
I stood there and looked at her for a moment, and once again, honesty seemed the best choice. “Why?” I asked.
Molly smiled at me, even as the tears began flowing faster. “I guess because, somewhere down deep inside, I must be the blue fairy. Maybe that was me, in a past life for something. I don't know what it is, but there's just something about you that makes me want to be with you, to take care of you, to help you always be what you want to be.” She reached up and wiped her face, doing her best to dry the tears with the palm of her hand. “Noah, if you ever need me, just let me know. Believe me, I'd come running.”
She turned and walked away, as quickly as she could. I stood there, waiting for her to look back so that I could wave one last time, but she never did. She got into the car that was waiting for her, and as it rolled away, I simply turned around and walked back into the house. I'd love to be able to tell you that I shed my own tears for her, but I'm afraid I can't.
Things were never the same after that. Jerry and Lizzie and Steve and I all tried to keep up our friendships, but it became clear to me rather soon that it had been Molly who held us all together. Each of them seemed to be drawn to other aspects of their lives, things I didn't fit into. I guess that's normal, but without her, we began drifting apart, and within a few months we were down to just sending an occasional email to each other. I had Molly's email address also, and she and I kept in touch a bit more faithfully, but about a year later, she began talking about this new guy she had met. Her emails started becoming fewer and further between not long after that.
Mr. Winston had a stroke when I was seventeen, and his wife decided that the farm was just too much work for them. She made a deal with another local farmer to rent their crop and pasture lands, and I helped her take care of her husband. He still had a lot of his mind, but he was paralyzed on one side and couldn't quite take care of himself. They'd been pretty good to me, so I was glad to do what I could for them.