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HAVOC

Page 4

by Debra Anastasia


  We were at the old mall, just inside a busted storefront. She was leaning against one wall, me the other.

  I’d asked her to tell me why they weren’t together. This was a hard question, and I knew what I was asking. The deepest of secrets.

  T was silent for so long, I thought she wouldn’t answer, but then she explained, “If Mom sees me, she goes off her meds. They say I make her too excited. And when she’s excited, she stops taking the pill she’s supposed to. She gets violent. So the one person who loves her most in the world only creeps on her from time to time.”

  T shrugged as if that fact was spilled milk. It was so much more. I knew the word “mother” could hurt like a slap. When it was Mother’s Day. When the class was making cards for the soft ladies that got hugs from their kids at the end of the day. And T had one mom.

  “How do you not go to her?” It was almost unbelievable.

  She pulled an old hospital bracelet from her pocket. It had the name Anastasia on it. “I just don’t. I know what works and I do that. But I only have love for one mom, and that’s the way I plan on keeping it.”

  I bowed my head like I was at a funeral. I could hear the pain in her voice, and it felt disrespectful to stare. Maybe she was crying; her words were barely there. It was dark in the empty ghost of a store.

  I knew now why she needed an open window or a door left ajar. Part of that was not wanting to be locked in, but the other part was needing to escape and get a fix of her mom. Just a visual. T had to be the strongest person in the world.

  The suckiest part of being in the system was the lack of ability to affect your situations. Merck took me home to the fosters’ house when T’s new foster mother arrived to pick her up at the hospital.

  Merck apologized for how it all turned out when he dropped me off. I knew he’d tried his best, but I was pretty sure I was a jerk to him. Either way, the fosters didn’t care that I had been gone when I arrived on Sunday morning.

  The following day changed just about everything for me. I was busy trying to figure out where T had gone. Finding her actual location would take some work. But when I got ready for school the next morning, I had to pause to answer the doorbell. Merck was there, looking exhausted.

  “Hey, get your stuff. Something’s about to go down here, and I want you in my possession when it does.”

  Kids in the system know how to pack fast. I was no different. I was still being a punk to Merck because I was fine living with these asshole addicts if I had to.

  On my way out, another cop came in to serve a warrant.

  The addicts had been caught doing whatever they did to get high. I’d tossed my bags in the passenger side of the cop car and pushed them over to sit.

  The fact that I wanted Merck as a dad was going to come up again, and it was going to hurt. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and refused to put on my seat belt. Before Merck could back up, the fosters were in handcuffs on the front steps.

  “I had an idea.” Merck turned the heater on as we watched the fosters get marched to another squad car.

  “Yeah.” Hope slammed up in the center of my chest, despite me trying to tell myself to be reasonable.

  “There’s the home in town. You know the one? Benfell Academy? They have kids that live there. You’d have your own room. Food’s good. You could stay there until you’re eighteen instead of bouncing around so damn much. There’s consistency.”

  I looked at my lap. No offer from him to be my family.

  “I asked my wife again last night if I could adopt you. She said no. I asked her for a divorce. I told her if she was making me choose between you and her, I would pick you.”

  I opened my mouth and slowly looked his way.

  “What? You’re surprised? You know how it is with us. I love you.” Merck cleared his throat and looked through the window. “Every time I see you with another situation that turns to crap, it kills me.”

  He’d just suggested the home, so as nice as it was to hear the man cared about me like I did him, there was some sort of complication.

  The squad car with my now ex-fosters pulled away. The cops were obviously conducting a full-scale warrant by the way they were tearing up the place.

  “She had me followed and found out about the affair. Told me she’d ruin my career if I didn’t stay.” Merck punched the dashboard. We sat there listening to the heater. He finally gave me his reasoning. “I need this job. I can watch over you better this way and make sure everything is going in your direction. You will make it out of this screwed-up childhood, so help me God.”

  Merck gave me a look of pure fatherhood. There was both agony and selflessness in it. I was smart enough to know that he was right. Having him as my very own police officer would be a help.

  I grabbed the older man by the shoulder and squeezed. “In my heart you’re my father.”

  Merck put his head back against the headrest. “That means the world to me, buddy. Thank you.”

  I took my other hand and patted his arm. I put a fair amount of hope in the man, but that was all he was. A man that I connected with. Maybe we were father and son in a past life. I wasn’t sure.

  “I think the home’s a good idea. I like the idea of meals. I’m hungry a lot.”

  On the drive over to Benfell Academy, I told Merck about the stupid cheese sandwiches. He cursed up a blue streak about the injustice of it all.

  My balance was always twenty dollars no matter how much I ate at school from that day on. Merck made sure I was covered.

  I met Sister Mary. She was a fan of Merck’s, and he assured her that I’d be a great addition to the home.

  I saw the setup for what it was that night. Sort of a place of last resort. Kids that were too wild to stay with their families, if they had any. The abuse that most of them underwent before they were placed gave a whole new definition to crazy. Humans could be broken beyond repair. Even as kids. Structure was a large part of how the home worked. There were very consistent headcounts and procedures when kids went out of their heads. The people who worked there had to love their job, because getting kicked and spit on were part of the hard days there.

  But I knew I could make it work.

  I was allowed to attend my regular school as opposed to the instruction they had on site for the other kids. It was like a whole community inside the walls.

  I arrived at school and found T in a sling at recess the next damn day.

  “Good to see you here. You still in district?” We’d both moved houses and schools a lot, so she knew what I meant.

  She nodded with a far-off look in her eye.

  “I’m surprised that you’re here. Aren’t you on pain meds and stuff?” I sat next to her on the brick wall.

  The car with the lowered body and the same license plate that T had carved into her skin rolled by.

  “They want me to stay in my routine.” She was talking slowly and a little slurred.

  “What happened? Where’d they place you? Give me an address.” I watched as she swayed.

  “I won’t be there long. I’ll be out tonight. She likes all the windows closed so…” She looked at my face as if seeing me for the first time. “Thank you. For what you did under the bridge.”

  I nodded. “You’d do the same for me.”

  It was true. I trusted her. She was small, but she was feisty as shit.

  “The selective mute thing is genius, by the way.” She smirked after the lowered car passed. Like she hadn’t seen it at all. “I should’ve been doing this the whole damn time.”

  “You okay, T?” She was off. There had to be repercussions. She was attacked just the night before. She was still bruised up.

  “I think if my mom was well, she’d make me chicken soup. And I bet she’d have a soft blanket that smelled like the dryer sheets that she’d wrap around me. And we’d watch Grease together. She’d make me feel safe. And I could sleep on my stomach, not holding onto my stuff, you know? And she’d hum a song I liked.”

 
I’d never heard T just gush like that. The stuff she wanted was so specific. It was heartbreaking.

  “She’d do all that shit, T. It’d be great.”

  She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffled. I looked at her wrist. She still had her hospital band on. My girl wouldn’t roll like that. She liked her personal shit personal. I pulled a blade out of my pocket. T didn’t flinch when I put it near her wrist. I could’ve attributed it to her being on drugs, except as I slid her sweatshirt sleeve out of the way, I saw the remnants of all the other scars.

  T looked from the knife to her wrist. This version of my girl was free with her words. “Sometimes I need to see the pain I feel.”

  I bowed my head like she had uttered a prayer. Then I flipped it so the blade could slide through the thick plastic. I slipped it into my back pocket so I could take the evidence out of the picture. I knew better than to let the jackholes in this school have the opportunity to dig it out of the trash. It said “Talon Devora”. I was so used to her being my T, seeing her government name was a surprise.

  I held open my arms to her. I knew she was a private person, and I had nothing to offer—but a hug seemed right.

  She looked at the center of my chest while she filtered the action through the drugs she must have been on.

  I held still. T scootched over close and gently put her head over my heart. I carefully put my arms around her, trying to remember where her injuries were so I wouldn’t hurt her.

  She let out a moan, but she stayed.

  I didn’t tell her it was all going to be okay, because I sucked at lying. I wasn’t old enough to protect her, I mean really. I couldn’t make it so she could stay somewhere safe. I kissed the top of her head.

  “Someday, T, you and I are going to have a house on top of a hill, and no one will be able to tell us what to do. We’ll make so much money that we’ll use it to start fires sometimes.”

  She murmured something I couldn’t hear. Two minutes later, she was asleep on me. I held her so she wouldn’t lose her balance.

  Five minutes later, I had to wake her. Recess was over. It was time to go inside and pretend like math mattered.

  Chapter 11

  Animal

  The Benfell Home made a big deal about Christmas. Sister Mary was pretty frigging Catholic, so it made sense.

  It pissed me off. To see the decorations taped to the cement brick walls was insulting. I knew the adults were trying—really they were. But the cardboard cheery Santa had a Sharpie dick drawn on him within five minutes.

  Merck ramped up his visits, and I took ribbing about it from the other kids and some of the childcare workers.

  I didn’t let it affect me. He was getting more and more agitated lately, and finally, when we were driving back from a movie, I asked him what the hell was going on.

  He looked at me a few times before he let himself be truthful.

  “You’re young, but I feel like I need someone to know this. You’re who I’ve got.”

  “Hit me with it. Takes a lot to surprise me.” I wiggled my eyebrows.

  Merck sighed. “Remember when I told you about my wife? About the affair? Well, things are escalating. This woman—the one I’m in love with? Well, she’s married, too, but her husband abuses her. Like rough stuff.”

  “So, what are you going to do about it?” It was a tricky piece of information. I respected Merck, but he wasn’t perfect. I didn’t think all the cheating would end well. Lies catch up. Seemed that way, which is why I tried to avoid them whenever I could.

  “I don’t know. I mean, it’s wrong, but I feel like, I mean—I could protect her. She’s got a son—almost your age, maybe a few years younger. I know that bastard hits him, too. He’s one of those that makes sure the clothes cover what he’s done—no bruises peeking out.”

  I nodded because I knew what he was talking about. No one ever hit me twice because I walked right out the goddamn door if they did, but I knew it happened to others. “Sounds like the wife should report him to, well—you. I mean, does she want to be with you?”

  Merck bobbed his head from one shoulder to the other while he thought. “Yeah. I mean, I’m sure a guy that’s nice to her is a big change, but I’m married.”

  “And you shouldn’t be. You deserve to be out of that house. If you want to leave, just leave. Worse things have happened. And if they take your badge, you can do security or something.” I gave him a hard look.

  “She’s had a child. A girl. I think it could be mine.”

  I whistled. “Shit.”

  “No kidding. Kinsey will lose her mind. She’s been trying to get pregnant for so long. But that’s my kid, you know? I don’t want the baby injured. Or her. Or her son.”

  “Now what?” I watched as the Christmas lights on the trees in town blurred from the speed of the car.

  “I want to get her and her kids out. And get you in the same house. As far as I’m concerned, you’re my kid, too.” Merck looked at me like he was afraid of what he’d said.

  “You’re going to have to deal with your missus first. Get past the first hurdle, then you can act on everything else.” I turned my head.

  My hope had learned not to act up in moments like this. I kept it firmly leashed. Merck had shit to deal with. He had a merry picture in his head, like T had of her mom when she’d been out of her mind on painkillers.

  As if thinking about her brought her fate to mine, Merck got a call on his cell.

  I could only hear his side of the call, and he looked at me enough times during the exchange that I knew it had something to do with me.

  He agreed to help, and because he turned the cruiser in the opposite direction of the home, I knew I was coming with him.

  He answered the question I hadn’t asked, “That’s a call from T’s foster mom. They’re trying to put her in a straight jacket right now. You cool to come with?”

  I sat on my one shaking hand. With every action there’s an equal and opposite reaction. T had been attacked, and she hadn’t responded yet. I had a feeling tonight was her reaction.

  T

  I knew I was surrounded. The nightgown was a trap. It looked soft, but after I put it on, I realized my clothes were gone.

  The new fake mom had understanding eyes. “Listen, I just want you to get some rest. I’ve been told that you have trouble staying in one place. I get it. It’s hard to believe that this place is a safe one, but it is. Which is why we do have to keep the windows and doors locked.”

  I’d told her I needed a window cracked open. I probably could have done that exact action and she wouldn’t have known, but the other little girl in my room had asthma. I was concerned for her with the cold air. Obviously, I was used to it.

  I felt like an explosion was simmering in my chest when the woman closed and locked the window. She apologized more than a few times.

  But she wasn’t just closing a window. She was predicting my future. As she tried to close the bedroom door, I bolted.

  I couldn’t do it. It was a cage. It was an expectation of acceptance that I couldn’t allow. I saw my mother’s face as I ran down the hallway. The foster person yelled my given name. My name that I only liked to hear from my mom.

  “Talon!”

  I forgot the layout and ran into the den where there was no escape. No door. The woman blocked the door that I had run through.

  “Sweetheart, listen. It’s late. Let’s go have some hot cocoa and relax.”

  It was the worst thing to say. She’d never know that in order to love my mother I had to say no. I had to do without. Even without a roof over my head. Even without a meal in my belly. I would love my mother even if it hurt me.

  The things I was being offered were too tempting. I felt the tears marching up to my eyes. And those would call to this woman in front of me. Compassion came off of her in waves. Understanding. Acceptance.

  She was the most dangerous thing my needy heart had ever felt.

  I took to the closest window and open
ed it. I was crawling away from this. From her. To the cold, where I belonged. I would be loyal even if it hurt. It was how I was made. And I wasn’t changing.

  Chapter 12

  Animal

  I understood Merck knew how to drive like a wild man, but the ride to T’s foster mother’s house really highlighted that he was like a stunt guy in a movie.

  Despite my concern for T, Merck and I grinned at each other when he spun the car around a turn so quickly he left rubber.

  My smile was wiped away the second I saw what was going on at T’s place.

  Now she was standing in her nightgown with bare feet on the front lawn.

  Her small, pretty foster mom was holding a thick afghan and shaking her head.

  The trouble with T’s foster was that the woman was great. She wanted the doors locked at night for safety, not to cage T in, I was betting. I knew that the kids in her care had a good deal. They wore new clothes to school and had fresh haircuts. It was a primo gig to get. I knew Merck had pushed and pulled to get T there. He’d told me about it before the movie.

  Maybe if T’s foster had been a horrible person it would have been easier.

  But T only loved once. And if she were starting to feel disloyal to her real mom, she would tap out. Freak out. Misbehave on purpose—it seemed.

  Taking in the fact that she was still dealing with getting attacked under the bridge in her head—probably, and my girl would be fit to be tied.

  Her hair was a mess. Her lips were blue. She was visibly so, so cold.

  She wouldn’t talk. All she would do was fight. There was a social worker standing in the driveway filling out paperwork like he was anywhere in the world. A straight jacket on the grass, discarded.

  Merck spared me a glance. “Stay here.”

  “No.” I got out of the car the same time he did.

  As we approached, the social worker was noticeably ticking off boxes. “So, you said she wouldn’t take more of her meds?”

 

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