by Thomas Babak
Sandy sat at the table and watched Tasha put together a large salad. He was experiencing a feeling that he’d barely remembered from before from when his Grandma was still alive. Someone cared and was doing something for him. A warm contentment spread through him.
They finished dinner and Sandy began picking up dishes. Tasha picked up the salad dressing bottle and their glasses and carried them to the sink and put the dressing in the fridge. Sandy started washing dishes, placing them in the dish rack when Tasha reached around from behind him and grabbed a towel hanging from the cabinet below the sink and started drying dishes and putting them away.
When they finished, Sandy said “Thanks,” and Tasha just smiled at him hanging the damp towel back on the handle.
Sandy stood there for just a few seconds, neither of them saying anything.
“I’ve got homework.” Sandy finally blurted out.
“Yeah, I’ve got some too.” Tasha said with resignation.
Sandy just had some reading to do so he went up to his room to grab his History text. He came back downstairs and sat in the living room on the easy chair to read after turning on the lamp on the side table.
Tasha was already settled down at the kitchen table with several books and her notebook out and open. After twenty minutes of reading his text, he was only reviewing what he’d already read, Tasha called out to him from the kitchen. He put his text down and headed into the kitchen to see what she needed.
“I don’t understand this!” she exclaimed the stress and anxiety readily apparent in her voice.
“Let me take a look.” Sandy said calmly, leaning over her while he read what she had been pointing at.
“Oh, these are fun,” he said to her look of disbelief.
She had been doing a word problem for Algebra.
“Just start at the beginning of the sentence and write down the problem as you read through it,” he explained.
He stood over her to follow her progress as she began slowly writing down the equation referring back and forth with the text. She finished writing the equation and then looked at him as if checking. Sandy looked back, his expression not changing and then looked back down at what she had written. She began to solve the equation, occasionally looking up at Sandy to see his reaction to what she was doing. Sandy remained neutral.
She finished and looked up at him and said “Well?” as the anxiety returned to her voice.
Sandy reached over and took the pencil from her hand and reached down as if to correct something. Instead, he wrote a big check mark.
“That’s absolutely correct,” he said with a smile leaking from his face.
Tasha squealed and snatched the pencil back, hitting him with her elbow on the leg.
“Don’t mess with me! This is hard enough as it is!” she exclaimed. “But…that was easier than I thought it would be,” she said.
“With most problems, you just have to relax, think and work through them one piece at a time,” Sandy said repeating something that Mr. Bullock had once taught him. His explanation could cover most facets of life and not just algebra.
Tasha smiled at him.
“I’m… uh… going to go back,” he said pointing his thumb back over his shoulder.
Tasha smiled and then looked back down at her homework. Sandy went back and sat down to continue reading. After about 30 minutes or so, he heard Tasha packing things up. She walked into the living room and sat on the couch.
Sandy closed his text and asked “Done?”
“Yes. That went pretty quickly. I did what you said… relax, etcetera, etcetera” she said smiling.
“Are you done?” she asked.
“Yes. I was actually just reviewing,” Sandy answered.
“Want to watch TV?” Tasha asked.
“Sure,” Sandy answered.
Tasha turned on the TV and surfed around until she found something interesting. “Want to watch this? Come sit over here with me.”
“Okay,” Sandy said as he got up and sat on the couch. After a few minutes he began to relax as he watched the show. Tasha moved over and leaned up against him, putting her head on his shoulder.
They sat there quietly for the next hour until the show was over. They went to bed separately. Sandy slept in his dad’s room.
It took him a little while to fall asleep. He never slept in this room before. He hardly ever came in here at all except to raid the closet and chest of drawers for clothes when he needed them. It felt odd but he fell asleep eventually thinking of Tasha… and Nick. He never noticed the dust on the nightstand having had a finger run through it.
The next day they parked in the school lot. Nick was parked nearby and got out of his car as soon as he saw them.
Both Tasha and Sandy tensed up for another confrontation. To their surprise, Nick just said “Hi Tasha. Hi Sandy.”
“Hi,” Tasha mumbled. Sandy just stared at him.
“I’m sorry about yesterday morning,” he said looking at Tasha. She looked back and didn’t say anything, but looked as if she was about to explode. Sandy reached down and took her hand and squeezed tightly. She looked up at Sandy and then relaxed. They’d talked about it yesterday while Sandy fixed the door and Tasha watched. Yes, there had been a short fight between Sandy and Nick but they weren’t 100% positive that Nick was the intruder. They were mostly sure, but Sandy convinced Tasha that they had to give him the benefit of doubt. “Innocent until proven guilty,” Sandy had said. Nick stood there waiting for a response to his apology. None came.
“Can I talk to Sandy for a minute?” Nick asked Tasha. At her skeptical look, Nick said “I just want to talk, really.”
Sandy looked at Tasha. When she looked back, he said, “It’s okay. I’ll catch up to you at lunch.”
“Okay. See you later,” she said and then walked towards the school, looking back nervously every few seconds.
Both Nick and Sandy watched her go.
As soon as she was lost to view, Sandy turned and looked at Nick. A sneer spread across Nick’s face.
“Listen close, Candy Cane. I spent some time at your house.” Sandy started to raise his clenched fists. “Where’s your dad, Candy Cane?”
Sandy froze. He was stunned. Nick could see the fear written across Sandy’s face. His sneer turned into a broad smile.
“That’s right, Candy Cane. No dad. You’re on your own, huh? What happens if I go to the cops?” Nick face was inches from Sandy’s now, his breath stale and nasty. Sandy didn’t turn away.
“You stay away from Tasha! Do you hear me? Do you understand?” he demanded.
Sandy just stared back.
“Do you understand?” he demanded again.
Sandy broke his eyes away looking down. Nick had him where he wanted. If he went to the police, they’d take charge of him. Probably send him to the Cities. He wouldn’t see Tasha anymore. He’d lose her. He’d lose his Bubble Tech. The business at the Yard would go under. Mr. Bullock didn’t know how to do anything with computers and most of what they did was online now.
Sandy nodded his head.
“I asked if you understand,” Nick repeated, knowing he had victory.
“Yes,” Sandy whispered as Nick laughed and then walked away.
He was beaten. There was nothing he could do. Sandy looked at the school for a few seconds before getting back into his truck. He’d lost. He’d lost Tasha and there was nothing he could do about it. Sandy sat there numb. The sound of the First Bell startled him back into reality. He couldn’t go into school now. He couldn’t face Tasha because if Nick saw him with her he’d be ruined.
Sandy didn’t know what to do. He started his truck and left, no destination in mind.
Nineteen
Sandy had been sitting at the counter at the Yard offices for a couple minutes. He’d left the school without thinking about where to go. He’d just simply driven away. He ended up in his driveway, sitting in his truck for about fifteen minutes without getting out before heading to the Yard. He’d
been here ever since with a pencil in his hand and a blank pad sitting before him. His initial idea was to make a plan for dealing with Nick. He couldn’t think of anything.
Sandy was lost in thought and didn’t hear Mr. Bullock open the door and come in.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” he said gruffly.
Sandy looked up briefly and then back down at the pad and nodded.
Mr. Bullock came over quickly to the counter and said “What’s wrong?” His tone turned immediately from gruffness to concern.
Sandy slowly looked up at Mr. Bullock, his eyes slightly red, not from crying but from something else. Fear. Sadness. Something. He didn’t say anything.
“What’s wrong, son?” Mr. Bullock asked again softly leaning forward on the counter and reaching out to place a hand on Sandy’s shoulder.
“I… I have a problem, Mr. Bullock” Sandy said.
Mr. Bullock didn’t say anything but stood there quietly.
“My dad…my dad left a couple years back. I’ve been on my own ever since,” Sandy said quietly, looking down at the blank pad. He waited hunched down for Mr. Bullock’s reaction. He’d kept this secret from everyone for years. In the past week he’d told Tasha and now he’d told Mr. Bullock.
“I know,” Mr. Bullock said calmly.
Sandy looked up at Mr. Bullock, surprised but not really hearing the response and didn’t ask and didn’t think of asking how he knew. His problem with Nick took priority in his thoughts.
“One of the guys as school found out and is threatening to go to the cops unless I stay away from Tasha,” Sandy blurted out quickly.
“First off, what’s a ‘Tasha’?” Mr. Bullock asked.
“Natasha…Tasha. She’s a girl I… like,” Sandy answered.
Mr. Bullock smiled briefly and said, “So what’s the problem?”
“If I see Tasha. he’ll tell the police on me. They’ll take me away or something.” Sandy said anxiously.
“Son, sounds like there’s a lot of drama going on here that I don’t know about and don’t want to know about. Don’t worry about the police, though,” Mr. Bullock chuckled at Sandy’s confused look.
“I know you are on your own. I’ve known since about a month after you started working here,” he said.
Sandy was stunned and was even more confused now. Mr. Bullock had never said a thing to him about it. How did he know?
“I couldn’t have a kid work here without talking to their parents. I kept going over to your house but no one was ever home. I called the school to get your parents number. They wouldn’t give it to me but they did tell me your mama was gone. I came over a few nights but never saw a car.”
Sandy was still surprised. Sandy remembered the one time Mr. Bullock had come over to talk to his dad about Sandy working at the Yard. He’d told him he wasn’t home. Mr. Bullock had waited around for a couple hours before leaving. He’d never come again or asked about his dad.
“About two years ago I went to my cousin at Social Services and made myself your guardian,” Mr. Bullock finished.
Sandy was still stunned and surprised but a new look of confusion took over.
“But…no one ever talked to me and…what does it mean…‘guardian’?” Sandy asked.
“I told you. I talked to my cousin. She took care of it. Didn’t need to do anything else. She made sure of it.” Mr. Bullock released Sandy’s shoulder.
Mr. Bullock continued, “Guardian? I don’t know exactly what it means. I’m supposed to act like I’m your kin. I guard you, I guess. At least until you are 18,” he said.
“But…Mr. Bullock…why didn’t you ever tell me?” Sandy asked.
“Son. I never told you because you never ‘fessed up to me. I was waiting for you to man up to it. Tell me the truth about your situation. If you had at any time before I would have told you. You never told me. Now you have,” he answered simply, his eyes boring into Sandy’s.
“You’re right, Mr. Bullock” Sandy said looking down. “I apologize. I should have known better. You were…have always been here for me… my guardian?” he said the last words with a note of renewed hope.
“I’ve been here for you, boy, and will be,” Mr. Bullock said gently.
Sandy had the beginnings of smile on his face as he looked up at Mr. Bullock and said, “So it doesn’t matter if he goes to the police? If he does, they’ll just check with you and it will all be okay?”
“Yes,” was all Mr. Bullock said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Sandy’s smile widened. He dropped the pencil and stood up and circled around the counter and grabbed Mr. Bullock into a hug.
“Thank you Mr. Bullock! Thank you!” he said.
Mr. Bullock was surprised for a second by the hug but then hugged Sandy back.
“You’re welcome, son,” he said.
Sandy let Mr. Bullock go, stepped back and said “I’m late for school!” The smile was still on his face.
“Yes, you are,” Mr. Bullock said with a mock growl.
“Thanks again, Mr. Bullock” Sandy said seriously holding out his hand. They shook slowly and released hands.
“Git!” Mr. Bullock said with another mock growl.
Sandy grabbed his backpack and headed to the door. As the realization that he didn’t have to hide, that he didn’t have to keep this secret, hit him again, he stopped and turned to Mr. Bullock again, overwhelmed with gratitude.
“Thank you, Mr. Bullock,” he said solemnly.
Mr. Bullock just smiled back.
Sandy left at a run, calling out “bye!” over his shoulder as he ran out the door.
Twenty
Mrs. Neal at the Admin desk gave Sandy another pass but admonished him not to make it a habit. Sandy’s smile was all the thanks she needed though he gave those as well.
It was already well into lunch so Sandy headed straight to the cafeteria, his backpack slung over one shoulder.
He walked into the cafeteria and stopped. A couple kids had to walk around him as he looked around trying to spot Tasha. She was sitting at a table with her friends. Nick was sitting at the same table across and to the side.
Sandy walked towards her, unconsciously dodging kids walking by holding trays. He walked up behind her, Nick looked up with a scowl on his face as Sandy got closer. Tasha noticed Nick’s expression and turned looking up at Sandy. A smile broke out on her face and she stood up, wrapped her hand around the back of Sandy’s neck and pulled him down, kissing him on the lips.
“Hi Sandy! Where were you?” she said with a smile on her face, her hand still behind his neck.
Sandy had a stunned stupid expression on his face. It was his first kiss and she’d done it in front of everyone. She tasted of tapioca and it had been wonderful.
Sandy tentatively put his arm around Tasha’s waist. She leaned into Sandy.
Nick stood up and said “Candy…Sandy, can we talk?”
Sandy pulled Tasha in tighter, looked at Nick and said, “Nick, we’ve got nothing to talk about.”
He turned to Tasha and said “I haven’t eaten yet. Want to sit with me while I do?”
“Sure,” she answered getting up.
“It’s sunny out. Let’s go outside?” he asked.
“Okay!” she smiled. She said bye to the group and they walked out of the cafeteria and made their way to the picnic tables outside in the sunshine.
It was still a touch chilly out even in the sunshine. Tasha sat next to Sandy at the table.
“Where were you, Sandy?” she asked.
“I’ve got some good news,” he said by way of preamble while ignoring her question. “I went out to the Yard to talk to Mr. Bullock. He’s my Guardian.”
Tasha gave him a confused look.
“It means I don’t have to worry about not having my dad home. He is acting like a parent. I don’t have to worry anymore about anyone finding out that I’m alone,” he explained.
Tasha smiled and said, “but you’re not alone, Sandy.” She elbowed him
in the side gently as she said this.
She could see the relief in his face and the way that he sat there, relaxed as she had never seen him before.
Sandy smiled back at her and said “Tasha… can I ask you a question?” his face turning more serious as he asked. He also stiffened up a little as he said this.
Tasha sobered up at Sandy’s demeanor and said, “Sure.”
“You kissed me in there. At the store you said… are you… are you my girlfriend?” he asked tentatively. Sandy felt like an idiot, and probably sounded like one, but he had to ask. He had to know.
Tasha smiled and said mischievously, “Are you my boyfriend?”
“Uh… yes?” Sandy answered hesitantly.
Tasha laughed and said “Then ‘Uh yes,’ I am,” mockingly.
Sandy smiled and leaned down, Tasha leaned up and they kissed again.
This is the best day of my life, Sandy thought. He no longer had to worry about being a minor with no parents. It was not an issue any more. The secret of being alone was dead. The girl he’d loved since they were nine was now his girlfriend and he could concentrate on her. Oh, and the Bubble Tech! He felt almost giddy. Everything was going to be alright. It had to be now.
Twenty-One
Travis sat at a picnic table in a Dairy Queen parking lot eating a chocolate-dipped vanilla cone. The sun was out without a cloud in the sky to mask it. The sidewalk was full of baby strollers, kids and suburban moms and dads waiting in line. The lingering chill in the air allowed Travis to wear his vintage olive drab army field jacket. He just knew he looked good as he eyeballed some of the moms that came by to the recently opened DQ. After all, they were checking him out too, weren’t they?
Most of the moms eyed him back, but contrary to Travis’ impression, they were actually just being protective of their kids. Travis had a somewhat psychotic-predator look about him, especially with the mirrored aviator sunglasses hiding his eyes. He always had this look when he was in the field. He’d practiced it repeatedly in a mirror to make sure he had the look down. His demeanor even made the FBI agents working closely with him uncomfortable, which is why they decided to wait in the car while Travis got his spur-of-the-moment cone. They were a little bit leery of him due to the power he wielded. Mostly, they were uncomfortable because they were professionals when it came to judging people and situations. There was something “off” about him.