by Darlene Ryan
She thought we were a family—Q, me and Dylan. I swallowed my discomfort. “They’re, um…they’re gone.”
True as far as it went. Dylan’s parents were gone. My dad was, and my mother might as well be, and Q didn’t seem to have anyone.
“I’m so sorry,” Anna said softly.
I gestured over my shoulder. “I’d better get him out,” I said. I gave her the cup and went into the bathroom.
Dylan was trying to fit the duck on the boat, which of course just made it sink. “C’mon, kiddo,” I said. “Time to get out.”
I expected him to complain, but he didn’t. Once he was dry, I wiped up the bathroom as much as I could. “Have one last pee,” I told him. “And don’t forget to wash your hands. I’ll be right outside.”
I gave Anna one towel, and Dylan brought the other out with him. “Thank you,” I said, yet again. I nudged Dylan with a hand against his back.
“Thank you,” he said. “I like your bathroom.”
“You’re welcome,” she said.
I wrapped Dylan’s jacket around him and hustled him outside before he said something that got us all in trouble.
Q was coming across the empty lot. “Hop into the backseat and wrap up in the blanket before you get cold,” I told Dylan as I unlocked the door. I handed him his bag. “Take Fred.”
I waited by the front of the car for Q. He shook his head as he got close. “They aren’t there.” He looked around me. “Is the kid okay?”
“He’s fine.” I took a step toward him and lowered my voice. “Q, his pajamas and toothbrush were in that bag with his teddy bear.
Q wiped a hand over his neck. “I’m not surprised. They were at the hospital, but only long enough to get a prescription.”
It felt like I’d just swallowed a rock. “They left him on purpose.”
Q closed his eyes and nodded.
“What do we do?” I looked back at Dylan, who waved at me. I waggled my fingers at him and then turned back to Q.
“For tonight, nothing,” he said. “We’ll keep him with us. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”
For the first time, I noticed how tired he seemed. “Thank you for trying to find them,” I said.
He jammed his hands in his pockets. “You know, I knew the guy was a prick. I just didn’t know he was this big of a one.”
“Did you find my mom?” Dylan asked the moment Q opened the driver’s door.
Q smiled at him. “Your mom wants you to stay with us for a while.”
Dylan nodded slowly. “She put my pajamas in my bag.”
“I like them,” Q said. “Are you warm enough?”
“Uh-huh,” Dylan said. “I had a bath.”
Q looked at me, confused. Before I could explain, Dylan pointed at the brown RV over Q’s shoulder. “We went over there. Can we get a house on wheels like that?”
“Maybe someday,” I said. I leaned over the seat and fished out another blanket from the box where Q kept them. “It’s time to go to sleep,” I told him.
“Where?” Dylan said.
That was the question.
“Up here,” Q said. He reached under the seat and tilted the back. “Okay, c’mon up.”
I got Dylan and the blankets out of the backseat while Q unfolded the cardboard screen. Then we made a bed for Dylan in the driver’s seat. It only worked because he was little.
Dylan reached for my hand. “Maddie, where’re you gonna be?”
I pointed at the passenger seat. “Right there beside you.” I kissed the top of his head. “Go to sleep,” I said.
Q had put up the wall between the front and backseats. “I have to walk over to Tim’s,” I said. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“It’s too dark,” Q said.
“Yeah, well, I still gotta pee. And we can’t leave him here.”
Q looked around. “Ask her.” He dipped his head toward the RV.
I shook my head. “No. I’ve walked all over the place at night. I can take care of myself.”
“I know that,” Q said. He pointed at the car. “But he needs you…and so do I.”
We stood there staring at each other, and then Q wiggled his eyebrows at me.
I shook my head. “Fine. If you’re going to get all spazzy about it.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“She thinks we’re brothers and sister.” I waved a finger back and forth between us.
Q nodded. “Got it.”
I knocked on the RV door. She opened it so quickly, she’d had to be close by. “Anna, umm, could I, umm, use your bathroom?” I asked. I held my breath, hoping she’d say no, because this was a bad, bad idea.
“Of course.” She took a step back. “Come in.”
As I made my way to the bathroom, I could hear horror movie music playing in my head. All I needed was for Anna to figure out the way things really were, and we were so screwed. Lucky for me, she wasn’t all that savvy about things. I mean, there were a couple of teenagers and a little kid sleeping in an old car next to her big fancy RV. Didn’t that make her wonder what the heck was going on?
“You can have a bath, Maddie, if you’d like one,” Anna said.
If I’d like one. Yes, I’d love to lie in that little tub and use those big, soft towels. I’d like to use some of the shampoo on the shelf that smelled like coconut and maybe some of the lotion. But. I. Couldn’t.
“No, thank you,” I said, ducking into the bathroom before she had a chance to push.
I peed, brushed my teeth and washed my face. I looked at the tub and then made myself look away, because if I got too friendly with Anna, the next thing that would happen would be I’d be back with my mother and Evan smacking me across the face every time I didn’t feel the Holy Spirit. I thanked Anna and got the heck out of there.
Q was leaning against the front fender of the car. “Can we move the car without her hearing?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
His eyes narrowed. “Why? What did she say to you?”
I scuffed my boot on the pavement. “Nothing. She’s just too nice. She thinks we’re a family, but she never once asked me why we’re sleeping in the car. I don’t—” I stopped. How was I going to explain this? “It doesn’t feel right, Q. Please, can we go?”
Q studied my face for a long moment. “Okay. But we should wait until closer to morning. Do you really want to wake up the kid?”
I studied Dylan through the car window, curled up with the old brown bear.
“What are we going to do?” I said. “I don’t think they’re coming back.”
“Maybe they’ll show up in the morning,” Q said.
I kicked a piece of broken pavement. It went skittering under the car. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
Q kicked the tire with the heel of his boot. “No. I know it’s possible, but I don’t think it’s very likely.”
I jammed my hands in my pockets. “What’ll happen to Dylan?”
Q frowned at me and shook his head very slightly. “What do you mean?”
“Do we take him to the police or one of the shelters or what?”
“We keep him with us.”
My mouth probably fell open, I was so surprised. “What do you mean, we keep him with us? Are you crazy?”
Q ran a hand over his mouth before he spoke. “First of all, if we take Dylan to the police or even one of the shelters, you think they’re not going to ask a lot of questions about us? Whatever you left, do you wanna go back? Do you even want to see your so-called family? Because I don’t.”
I stared at my feet, feeling the panic I’d been trying to keep pushed down pushing back. “Couldn’t we—I don’t know—take him somewhere? The hospital? A fire station?”
“The kid’s not a library book you forgot to take back, Maddie,” Q said. He sounded tired.
It had gotten so dark that I could barely see his face. “I know that,” I said. “But how the hell are we going to take care of him?”
“We’ll figure someth
ing out,” Q said. “Anything we do would be better than foster care. You want him yelled at, smacked around…or worse?”
I closed my eyes. For a second, I could feel Evan’s hand connect with my face, all of his force, all of his anger behind it. It was so real for a moment that I put my hand up to the side of my head. “No,” I whispered.
“Then we keep him,” Q said. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll work it out in the morning.”
I didn’t see how we could work it out in the morning or any other time, but I was so tired, I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I rolled up in my blankets on the passenger seat of the car. Q got settled in the back. I thought about my prayer in church that morning, how I’d asked God to take care of Dylan. Was this his idea? Did he think that Q and I would be better family for the little guy than the one he had?
Or maybe God hadn’t heard me at all. Maybe all the other prayers had been louder than mine.
“It’ll be all right, Maddie,” Q’s voice said from the backseat.
“I hope so,” I whispered back.
eight
It was very early and very dark when Q touched my cheek and whispered my name. I bumped my elbow on the crank for the window as I sat up, my legs tangled in the blanket.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Do you still want to get out of here?”
There were a few stars winking at me overhead. I looked over at the RV beside us. It was dark and still. “Yes,” I said.
“Can you steer from there?”
“Not really.”
Q sighed and pulled down the blanket hanging between us. “Is there any way you can move the kid over without waking him up?”
Dylan had slid down and was curled up on the seat like a little caterpillar. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe.”
I pushed my blankets between the seats and pushed myself onto the floor, the dashboard digging into my back. I slid one hand around Dylan and one under him and lifted him over into my seat. It wouldn’t have worked, except that he was so small. He shifted and made soft whimpering noises like a puppy, but he didn’t wake up. Q gave me one of the blankets, and I tucked it around Dylan.
“Okay, that’s good,” Q said. “Can you get out from that side?”
I could and I did. Q pushed the driver’s seat forward and climbed out of the car. He walked around to me. His face was dark with stubble, and he looked like he hadn’t slept at all. He stood right in front of me and spoke in a low voice.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to push by the driver’s door so I can steer through the window. You go round to the back and push. We’re on a bit of a slope, so we should be able to do it.”
I nodded.
He pointed across the lot to the All-mart entrance. “We’ll keep going until we get to that speed bump by the main doors.”
“Got it,” I said. It was cold, and my legs were stiff from sleeping in the passenger seat all night. Wanting to get away from Anna’s trailer was probably wacko of me, but I needed to do it.
Q put the car in neutral and then rolled down the left front window. I braced my hands on the trunk. He lifted his left hand and dropped it, and I started to push. The pavement was damp, and my feet slipped for a second before they found traction. The muscles in my back and shoulders tied themselves into knots, but I kept on pushing. Nothing happened. The car didn’t move.
I pushed with everything I had, biting the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t grunt out loud. I could see Q’s shape in front of me, knees bent, shoulders straining. And then slowly the car began to roll forward, tires making a creeping sound on the asphalt.
The speed bump was more or less level with the t at the end of All-mart, and I kept my eyes locked on that red letter as my arms and legs kept the car moving forward. Just before the hump of pavement, I lifted my hands and stepped back from the car. The tires bumped the rise, and the car stopped moving forward.
Q opened the door, pressed hard on the brake, just in case, and put it into park. He pulled his head out of the car and grinned at me. “We did it, Maddie,” he said.
Without thinking, I flung my arms around him. And immediately felt very weird. I let go and took an awkward step back. And like he always seemed to do, Q somehow felt how weird I felt.
He reached over and tugged the zipper on my jacket the rest of the way up. “S’okay,” he said softly. “Let’s get out of here.”
I climbed into the backseat. Q got behind the wheel and started the car, circling the mall and heading for Tim’s. Dylan had slept through the whole thing.
“Watch for cop cars,” Q warned. “I don’t want to get caught with him not in a car seat or without even a seatbelt.”
But we made it. As we pulled into the overflow lot at Tim’s, I could feel the panic floating away.
“Coffee?” Q asked. He pulled off his hat and tossed it onto the dash.
“I think we’ve earned it. Do we have the money for it?”
Q parked next to a picnic table at the back of the lot. We got out of the car, and Q went to get us two coffees. We sat on top of the table, our feet on the bench seat. I could easily see Dylan, still curled up on the passenger seat.
Q followed my eyes. “Maddie, I don’t think his family is coming back.”
Neither did I. I set my cup down between my feet and tucked my fingers in my armpits to warm them a bit. “How could they leave him?” I asked.
Q exhaled slowly. “I don’t think Michael thinks about anyone but himself.”
“But why Dylan? Why not the baby or the other little guy?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because he’s the oldest of the three. He’d eat more, and he probably asked more questions.” He shifted his coffee from one hand to the other. “Maybe he went eeny meeny miny mo, for all I know.”
I picked up my own cup. “Are you serious about us keeping him?”
“Absolutely,” he said.
“I don’t know if I can,” I said.
Dylan stirred, sat up and looked around in a panic. I was off the picnic bench almost before my brain had a chance to tell my feet to move. I opened the car door and put my arms around him. “It’s okay, kiddo,” I said. “I’m right here.”
He was crying—no sound, just huge heaving shudders against my chest. It felt like a knife, slicing out a piece of my heart. He clutched fistfuls of my jacket with each hand. I pressed my face against the top of his head. Q had come to stand beside the open car door. I looked up at him in the faint light. “I’ll do it,” I said.
I took Dylan for a pee and washed his face. He didn’t say much, but he wouldn’t let go of my hand.
When I came out, Q had gone into Tim’s and had bought me a new cup of coffee as well as a breakfast sandwich, and there was a sandwich for Dylan and a bottle of apple juice. We took a table in the corner. Dylan watched the early morning delivery trucks in the drive-through. He ate with one hand, still clinging tightly to mine with the other.
“We need a place to live,” Q said in a low voice. “The three of us can’t stay in the car.”
“We can’t afford an apartment.”
He wrapped his hands around his paper cup. “I know, but maybe a room.”
“So how are we going to pay for this room?” I asked. I set down my cup and pulled a bit of egg out of my sandwich.
Q touched the front of his jacket. “I have the money I made last week.”
I thought about my emergency fund and my go-back-to-school money. Dylan’s hand was warm in mine. I looked at him as he slowly chewed his sandwich and watched a milk delivery truck go past the window. “I have some money,” I said.
“Okay, so what we need is a place.” Q propped his elbows on the table. “I might have an idea.”
“What?”
“John Goddard.”
I picked up my cup. “The guy you worked for last week.”
He nodded.
“The guy you called a cheap asshole.”
“Yeah.” He drank the last of his coffee. “I
know he has a couple of rental places, and I don’t think he’s the type of guy to be real picky about who he rents to.” Q looked over at Dylan. “I don’t think he’d ask a lot of questions.”
“That would be good,” I said.
“I’ll go over to where we were last week. I think they’re going to start there this morning.” He glanced at Dylan again. “Will you guys be all right?”
“Yeah, we’ll go over to the mall. We can walk around, and I can even push him in a cart.” I pulled a slice of cold bacon out of my sandwich and ate it. Q reached across the table, broke off a piece of the top biscuit and popped it into his mouth.
I leaned over to Dylan. “Have some more juice, kiddo,” I said. “We’re leaving soon.”
He turned. “Okay,” he said softly.
I handed him the bottle.
“I’ll drive you over,” Q said.
“You sure?” I asked.
His face softened into a smile. “Uh-huh. It’s too cold for the two of you to walk. We’ll go in about ten minutes.” He stood up. “I’ll be right back.” He headed in the direction of the washrooms.
My coffee was cold, but I drank it anyway.
Dylan set his juice bottle on the table. He looked around and sighed.
“Wanna come sit on my lap?” I asked.
He nodded, and I picked him up. He leaned his head against me, and I wrapped my arms around him. I’d never much liked all the huggy, kissy stuff—not that my mom was much for it—but I didn’t mind keeping Dylan close at all.
We stayed like that until Q came back. He smiled at us and put both hands on the table. “Ready to go?” he asked.
“Do you need to pee again?” I asked Dylan.
“No,” he said.
There were lots of bathrooms at the mall, I figured. “We’re ready,” I said. I set Dylan down, and right away he reached for my hand. “Just let me put my jacket on,” I told him.
As soon as my hand was through the sleeve, he grabbed it. We headed out to the car. “I’m gonna sit in the back with him,” I told Q.
“Good idea,” he said.
We drove back to the mall. It was starting to feel, well, okay, not like home but kind of like our place.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” Q said. “I’ll find you.”