Change in Plans

by Meagan Fink

  “Are you OK?” she asks him, he nods, “You?”

  “Yeah,” she says, and hugs him to her, as she looks over at Blondy.

  “Are you all right, sir?” she asks, eyebrows furrowed. He better be so I can ask him who the heck those men were. They were looking for him, not us. We’re still safe. He’s leaning heavily against the wall to the building that’s on fire, clutching his side. His fingers are red with blood, and the fire glints off a piece of glass in his side.

  “Oh my God! You, we need to get you to the hospital, right now.” Tita goes over to him and props him up with her shoulder. “Dyton, give me a hand.”

  He walks over still seeming to be in shock and helps him up.

  “No, no hospital,” Blondy says.

  “Listen, you have a piece of glass sticking out of you, you need a doctor, and stitches.” What she’s really thinking is that the fire department and police will be here shortly, The Police would love to see her in the back of a police car; assaulting an officer, theft, why not add arson?

  “No, please, I can explain later. Just no hospitals, please.” Tita looks up at him deciding what to do; his green eyes beg her to listen to him. When the blare of sirens sound in the distance, she knows she doesn’t have much time to decide.

  “Tita, we need to go, like right now,” says Dyton, giving her a look which seems to hint at the pennies from heaven in her pocket. She nods and looks down the alley.

  “OK, come on, I know a place we can hide out in.”

  7

  Dyton maneuvers the trash cans so they block the view from the street, making their little alley nice and secluded.

  Tita tries to lay Blondy down gently, but he still gasps in pain as she sets him down.

  “Sorry,” she says, as she wipes her hands on her jeans. “I need to take a look at that,” she says, pointing at the piece of glass. After spending four years on the streets, she’s learned how to dress a few wounds but never anything this bad.

  With Dyton observing closely from behind her, Tita slowly lifts up a corner of his shirt to reveal the shard of glass in all its glory.

  “That doesn’t look very good,” says Dyton, wrinkling his nose. He then whispers into her ear, but still loud enough for Blondy to hear, “Is he going to die?” Tita casts an angry look at him.

  “It’s not as deep as I thought, and it won’t need any stitches, I don’t think; we just need to get it out.”

  “Well that’s good news, isn’t it?” says Blondy.

  “Dyton, can you get me my bag, I think there’s some bandages in there.” Tita analyzes the wound, wondering how she should take it out.

  Dyton brings her bag and hands her the bandages and sits down next to her. She mutters thanks as she gets ready to pull it out. This won’t be pretty, she thinks as she grabs onto the shard.

  “On three, OK?” she asks.

  “Sure,” says Blondy, in a strained reply.

  “OK, one, two,” she yanks out the bloody piece of glass. He tries to suppress a cry but doesn’t succeed. His breathing picks up as he tries to calm down.

  “You need to learn how to count girl,” he says through clenched teeth.

  “Funny, that’s what Dyton said when I pulled out his first tooth,” she says. “Name’s Tita by the way.”

  “Tita?” he inquired.

  She starts to undo the role of bandage. “Yeah, like a spot of tea, Tea-tuh. When Dyton was little he couldn’t pronounce Tatiana, so he called me Tita and it stuck.”

  Blondy thinks about it and then shrugs.

  “Luca,” he says. Tita starts to wind the cloth around his waist as she tries to come up with a tactful way of asking him the question that’s been on her mind.

  “Thanks Tita, you could have just left me there, but you didn’t, so thank you.” He reaches out a hand and she shakes it.

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for helping us down.” Luca shrugs but then winces; she finishes the wrapping and tucks the end of the bandage into the other layers.

  “It should be fine; you just need to keep an eye on it and make sure it doesn’t get infected, and probably get some extra rest,” she says. Dyton tugs on her sleeve. She turns around, and he motions to the other side of their little hideout. She gets up and walks over to where he’s sat down.

  “Yeah?”

  “Tita, there are going to be police at that building. If a specific one is there and he sees us, he’ll assume we set the fire. I think he’s still mad about that punch,” says Dyton, worriedly. She can’t disagree, it had been on her mind as well; she looks back at Luca. They just can’t leave him there, but if they stay, they risk the chance that they’d be found.

  “I know. But we can’t just abandon him here; he saved our lives.” And I want to know who those men were. Maybe they weren’t there for him, maybe they were there for us?

  “I know, it’s just that I want to get to D.C. and out of New York,” he says, with a frown.

  Tita nods, “And we will, let’s just make sure he’s all right, then we can go, OK?” she asks.

  “If I heard you correctly, you said you were heading to D.C.?” asks Luca. They both glance back at him; Tita looks him up and down, thinking, Why does he care?

  “Yeah, what’s it to ya?” asks Dyton, trying to act like a tough guy.

  “That’s where I was heading. I was on my way there when those guys caught up to me,” he says. He starts to get up but then ends up just leaning against the wall, a thin layer of sweat covering his face.

  “Speaking of which, you know as long as we’re on the subject, who were those guys? And how did you end up in our building?” asks Tita, finally getting the question out there.

  He opens his mouth about to respond but then changes his mind thinking about what he’s going to say. Tita and Dyton scoot closer to him wanting to hear the brilliant answer he must be coming up with.

  “They are some family members.”

  Tita and Dyton share a look.

  “I don’t know if you realize this, but your family just tried to burn you alive,” says Dyton; Tita nods in agreement.

  “Yes, I am aware of that,” he sighs before he goes on. “The family I come from has a bad background. I disagreed with some of their ideas, so I left.”

  “That doesn’t seem that bad, why would they want to kill you for it?” asks Tita.

  “Because my brother, who has always had a grudge against me, spread the rumor that I killed our father. That’s why I ran, so he sent some people to finish me off,” he says. Tita gapes at him, where did this guy come from? There’s a moment of silence.

  “Well, did you?” asks Dyton, nudging closer to Tita.

  “No, don’t worry I’m not a psychotic killer,” he says with a wry grin.

  “That’s what they all say,” mutters Dyton; Tita throws him an annoyed look.

  “So then why are you heading to D.C.?” asks Tita.

  “That’s where my uncle lives. He had split from the family a few years ago; so I figured that, if I explained the circumstances, he would help me out.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” she asks.

  He shrugs, “Then I’m in real trouble, but I have no other options.”

  “So you’re wondering if you can come along?” asks Tita.

  He gives a shy nod, “Well it’s better to have an ally along the way. It is a long trip, and I have some cash that I can pitch in, but I’d understand if you feel I’m too much trouble.”

  Tita and Dyton glance at each other, “How much do you have to offer?” she asks.

  Luca reaches into his back jean pocket and holds out a wad of cash, “Is $300 enough?”

  Their eyes widen and they both nod.

  8

  I lean over the edge of the crib and peer at the little squirming thing wrapped in blankets. He lets out a strangled whine tha
t sounds like something that came from a cat getting ran over. I hear footsteps behind me and turn my attention away from my new brother.

  “So what do you think of baby Dyton?” asks Daddy.

  “I still think he has a weird name,” I say, as I glance back at the tiny thing.

  “Yes, I agree Tatiana. But you know your mother, always wanting to be different and not doing anything that has been done before.” He sets his hand on my shoulder and looks at Dyton with me.

  “I know another girl that is named Tatiana. Why didn’t Mama name me something strange?” I ask.

  “Because your mother named your brother. I named you, you can thank me when you’re older,” he says, laughing softly.

  “Why is he so strange looking?” I ask. He scrunches up his red little face and starts to cry. That’s going to get annoying quickly, I think. Daddy reaches down and picks him up while keeping a hand under his head. He sets Dyton over his shoulder and starts to pat his back softly.

  “Did you do that to me when I was a baby?” I ask, as I sit on my bed.

  “Yes I did. But you weren’t as small as your brother. This little guy wanted to come early. That’s why his room isn’t ready yet and he needs to stay in your room for a little while,” he says.

  Mama said that Dyton’s crib had to be in my room because there was no other space for him, which isn’t true. He could fit in the linen closet just fine.

  Dyton stops crying and settles for a slight whimpering, and Daddy stops patting his back for a moment and looks at me.

  “Do you want to hold him?” he asks. My eyes grow wide. None of Mama’s friends have ever asked me if I wanted to hold their babies. I nod slowly.

  “OK, hold out your arms. Be sure to hold his head; there that’s it,” he says, as he slowly moves the baby from his arms into mine.

  Dyton squirms a bit but then calms down after he’s settled. I smile at him; he’s not that bad, I guess.

  “See it’s not that scary, is it?” Daddy asks, as he smiles at us.

  “I guess not. So I’m a big Sister now,” I declare. Daddy reaches over and twirls a few of the dark strands of hair on Dyton’s head.

  “Yes you are. And you’re going to be an amazing Sister, but it does require some responsibility. You’re going to have to take care of him and protect him at times. Do you think you can do that, Tatiana?” he asks. He turns his focus away from Dyton and looks at me with blue eyes that match mine.

  I swallow; I think I can, but what if I don’t do a good job? What if something scary happens during the war and I can’t be brave enough? “I want to, but what if I’m too scared?”

  “Tatiana, I’m going to tell you something that my father told me, and maybe you can tell Dyton when he’s older. You are going to be scared at times; bad things will happen, and you might wonder if it will ever end. But Tatiana, you just need to remember that whenever you’re scared, whenever you’re frightened, just remember that it won’t last long. Just a few moments of fear and then it’s over. Do you think you could do that? Be brave for just a few seconds at a time?”

  I look down at Dyton. I was scared when Mama had said that I would be a big Sister and that I should take care of him. But I’m not scared now, Dyton isn’t that scary. Brave for a few seconds, I think.

  “I think I can do that,” I say. He smiles and puts a hand to my head and pulls me close to him to kiss my forehead.

  “That’s my girl.”

  Tita slowly opens her eyes after what seemed like a restless night. Her eyes land on Luca and for the first time she studies his face with the help of the night’s light. He has light skin, a strong jaw, and she knows that, if he opened his eyes, green orbs would shine at her. His short, dark blond hair is tossed and messy from sleep. Her original guess at his age was pretty accurate, maybe 18 or 19 at the most; handsome.

  She looks around and her eyes land on the other boy that sleeps at her feet. Dark brown hair, tanned light skin like hers, and drool lines his mouth and covers his fat little cheeks; he snores loudly. What a contrast. But her eyes are always drawn to the little 11 year-old making sure he’s OK.

  Her fingers rub at the locket as her thoughts are empty for once. Then the breathing patterns change, someone’s awake. She looks down at Dyton who is still snoring, her eyes then land on Luca who’s staring at her.

  He sits up and stretches and then looks down at his side and touches his wound cautiously.

  “Thanks for the patch work,” he whispers. She nods and smiles.

  “So, how were you thinking of getting to D.C.?” he asks.

  “I was figuring on taking the train. It’s too far to walk and, unless you have an automobile you’re not telling us about, that’s the only option we’ve got,” she says. He nods and then looks down at Dyton and then back at her, his eyes questioning.

  “So why were you at that warehouse? You know why I was there, so what’s your reason?” His actual question seems to be prying but it doesn’t sound that way. Tita hesitates before answering. She just met this guy. Should she really tell him her life story? But something about him just seems trustworthy, so she decides to tell him, at least a little.

  “Both of our parents died when we were young, so we’ve been on the streets ever since.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” and he does seem genuinely sorry. “I know what it’s like to have the streets as your home and it’s not easy.”

  “You’ve lived on the streets before?” she asks. I thought he lived with his big, bad family?

  “Briefly, but a few months was enough for me,” he says and he looks down at the floor. She frowns, wondering when he would’ve had to live away from his family. Maybe they kicked him out because they thought he killed his father. He glances at her and seems to read the question from her expression.

  “You’re probably wondering when I would have had time to be on the streets?” he asks, smirking.

  She gives him a sheepish smile and nods.

  “Come on, you can never be too careful about making sure someone’s back story is true,” she says grinning.

  “Good point,” he says, laughing. “Well, when I was in Germany, my whole family moved to America to get away from the war. When we arrived I sort of made a scene at Ellis Island when they went to do the physical examination. When the doctor told me to take off my clothes, I sort of acted rashly and punched him; you can imagine how they reacted to that. So my father got mad at me and said I could own up to what I did or I could leave. He didn’t expect me to run away,” he says laughing, as if it’s a fond memory.

  “Oh, well we didn’t really get a choice about living on the streets,” she says with a sad smile. She turns the locket over in her hand, now rubbing the side with the pattern on it.

  “What is that?” he asks, gesturing to the locket.

  “Oh, this?” She looks down at it and stops playing with it. “It was my mother’s. She gave it to me before she died.”

  “Is there a picture or something in there?” he asks leaning closer, wanting to see.

  “Yeah, it’s of our family.” She looks at him and then back down at the locket and, after a moment of hesitation, she takes it off her neck and opens it. She grabs something out of it and then hands it to him.

  He takes it carefully as if he’s handling a precious artifact. He smiles as he looks down at the smiling faces of her family. “You’re a nice-looking family,” he says. She smiles; they were a good-looking bunch. He closes it and turns it over, rubbing his finger over the swirling pattern.

  “It’s a nice locket,” he says handing it back.

  “Thanks.” Tita places it once again around her neck, the familiar weight reassuring.

  “Well, there’s a train station a few hours from here, we should probably get moving soon.” Luca nods and then looks up; it’s still dark but the first rays of sunlight start to appear.<
br />
  “Do you think you can make it?” she asks. He nods, but she thinks he would say yes even if he couldn’t. Guess we’ll find out, she thinks. Tita grabs her bag and slings it across her shoulder, then grabs Dyton’s bag and throws it at him, he jumps up with a snort.

  “It’s OK. Come on we’re going to head out soon,” she says. He nods and wipes some drool off his chin and then rubs the sleep out of his eyes and yawns.

  “Do you need help?” asks Tita, looking at Luca. She gives him her hand and helps him up.

  “No, I’m good, thanks. Your patch work helped, it barely even hurts anymore,” he says with a grin, but the pain in his eyes says otherwise.

  “Dyton no, we have to keep walking,” says Tita, as she pulls him away from the military tank that is on display. A group of kids, mainly boys, are gathered around gawking at it and listening to one of the soldiers talking.

  “Come on Tita, just a few minutes,” he begs; and he yanks his arm away and runs over to the crowd, pushing and shoving.

  Tita sighs in exasperation and turns to Luca, “I’m really sorry, but he’s always been fascinated by mechanical things.”

  “Well, he is a boy,” he says smiling. “And anyways, that’s all right, I’ll just sit down over here.” He walks over to a section of grass and sits down under a tree. Only now does she see the strain on his face and how tired he looks. You should have asked if he wanted to stop, she ridicules herself. He could have said something at any time as well.

  “You should have told me you were tired,” she says angrily and walks over to him, standing over him.

  “I didn’t want to stop our progress or seem like a burden, but if the boy wants to see a tank, then don’t let me stop him,” he says and lies down on his back. He takes off his cap and sticks it on his face as if he’s about to sleep. She sighs and plops down next to him, resting her elbows on her knees.