The Foster Dad

by Christopher X Sullivan

  They must have had a conversation out of my hearing because a minute later Mark walked out to greet me and Alex clung to his shadow.

  “What’s up?” Mark asked.

  I nodded to the mess. It looked a lot worse than it was because the loose wood chips were spread across the floor and the ceramic shards made it look dangerous.

  “What happened here?” I asked.

  “Dunno,” Mark said slowly, after waiting for Alex to respond.

  “Alex. Do you know what happened here?”

  “I... don’t know right now,” he said, stressing the last two words like he was being technically precise. He didn’t know right now, but if you asked him again in five minutes, or an hour later, or maybe some other time he would know. Just not right now.

  “You don’t know right now?” I repeated skeptically.

  He shook his head and when his head stopped, his eyes never looked at the mess.

  “When are you going to know?”

  “I... I... I... don’t know. But I don’t know right now what happened out here. And we were playing blocks and I think—”

  “You want to go build blocks?”

  “Yeah!” He perked up immediately and I could see in his eyes how he was about to run away.

  “First, tell me who knocked over my orchid. I’m not mad. I just want to know the truth.”

  He gripped Mark’s leg and hid from my view. He glanced at the mess once, then turned away and bolted for the bedrooms and slammed a door.

  “What did you do that for?” Mark accused.

  “Me? You want him to get away with lying to us?”

  “Don’t make the kid cry.”

  “I didn’t try to. But he has to tell the truth. Did you know about this?”

  “No.”

  I was skeptical.

  “It’s the truth! Quit with those Inquisition Eyes. They freak me out and I’m an adult.”

  Sometimes I wonder...

  “I am an adult!” He frowned. “But he did grab me and say we should start building blocks, which I thought was strange because that’s normally your thing.”

  “You’re such a sucker.”

  “It was fun!”

  I took a step toward the bedrooms, but Mark beat me to it. He fought me the whole way.

  Alex’s bedroom was open, but the kid was missing. Under the bed? Our bedroom door was shut, so Mark opened it gently. Alex was in the background, folding a blanket like he was trying to make our bed. Mark pushed me away and told me to wait in the main room.

  My feet were dancing and suddenly I had bladder control problems. Nothing was more stressful than the moments before I had to punish Alex! It’s always hurt me to ground him or take things away. Normally he’s respectful and, honestly, I probably could’ve expressed my disappointment and that would have been punishment enough—that’s what worked best when I was a child. I never cared when my parents took stuff away.

  Finally, after several excruciating minutes, the bad boy emerged from the bedroom. He walked slowly into the room with his head hung low and I wanted to cry out that everything was going to be fine. But I held it in.

  He crossed the last ten feet at a run and gave me a huge hug, which I was prepared for. He said, “I love you,” and I said it back while running my fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Chris. I’m so sorry. I broke it.” He started crying.

  “Hey, buddy. No crying. Come on, cheer up.”

  He sobbed onto my shoulder and I waited for the storm to pass.

  “Let’s look at the mess. I’ll show you how to fix it, but we have to be careful. We don’t want to cut our fingers.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  “I’m upset that it’s broken. But I’m happy you told the truth. Plus, now I get to show you how to fix it.”

  “Fix it?”

  “Sure.” I got on my knees. “Come down here and help me. Mark can get the dustpan.”

  “No way,” Mark complained. “I’m not a part of this.”

  I whispered for Alex to get the dustpan and he flew away to get it. When he came back he was still cautious, but he seemed proud of himself for helping. I held up the plant and showed him how it was still alive and how the flower buds were still intact. The only thing that was broken beyond repair was the container.

  I mean, I had spent a lifetime looking for such a perfect container. It had this symmetrical, geometric design with an elegance that befit a beautiful orchid. It was wide enough to leave a half inch of air around the orchid’s plastic pot so that the roots could breathe. It was just a perfect vase and I was sad to have lost it.

  We picked up the pieces and threw them in the trash. Then I doled out the punishment. Alex squirmed under my gaze and shuffled his feet like he expected to be sent to prison.

  “For your punishment, you’re going to have to help me find a new vase.”

  “A new vase?”

  “Yes. We’re going to have to go to the market and find a replacement for what you broke.”

  “We have to go... shopping?” He sounded shocked, like he couldn’t believe his good fortune. He shared an excited look with Mark, who smiled down on him.

  The two of them loved to go shopping and they would always stop for a ‘big guy’ meal after. Mark was rotting the kid’s brain and turning him into a materialistic clone.

  “Will you help me pick out a replacement?”

  “Yes!” He ran to the door like we were going to go shopping right that instant.

  “Whoa, buddy. Not right now. Don’t put your shoes on.”

  “Let’s go outside,” he said.

  Give me a minute of rest, kid. I just got done chasing after a bunch of grown-ups at work. “Is your room clean?”

  “We were playing blocks.” He looked up at Mark. “You wanna play ball, Mark?”

  “Clean up your room first,” Mark said with a faux-stern tone. Hearing Mark speak authoritatively always made me want to giggle. Apparently it had the same effect on Alex because the kid ignored him completely and turned to me.

  “You wanna play tennis?”

  Wow. This kid doesn’t play fair. “After you clean up the blocks—”

  “But I was just... like, thinking that we can build dominoes later and I already have a lot of them set up and I was thinking we could do that?”

  “That’s what you were thinking?”

  “Uh-huh.” He nodded succinctly.

  I was baffled. Am I really considering caving on this? “Let’s check on your room and see how clean it is.”

  “No!” He scurried ahead of me and laughed the whole time. He skidded to a stop by his door and waited for me, grinning. “It doesn’t look that bad,” he said as I approached.

  There were blocks spread everywhere. “Not that bad, eh?”

  He shook his head. I rubbed my fingers against the back of his neck and he gave my leg a half-hug, so I went down to his level. “Hey buddy,” I whispered. “You know I’m not mad at you, right?”

  He nodded.

  “I love you so much.”

  “Love you, Chris.” He kissed me—a quick peck on the lips.

  “Did you make my bed for me?”

  He nodded shyly.

  “Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you.”

  He gave me a tight hug and buried his head near my neck.

  “Do you want to play ball?”

  He nodded.

  “Yeah? Will you clean your room for me first?”

  He nodded.

  “Just shove your blocks to the side and we can play with them later.” I rubbed his back and kissed the side of his head. “I’m gonna sit with Mark for a bit.”

  “Are you tired again?” His query was soft, but it struck me deeply. Had I been that sick lately?

  “No. I just want to sit with Mark for a few minutes. I’ve been all over town this morning and I’m hot and sticky. We can play ball after.” I pushed him away and gave his tummy a little tickle. “But then you have to go shopping with me.”
>
  He smiled and nodded. When I was a kid, shopping was the most torturous thing in the world. It still is, actually. But Alex grew up in a completely different world.

  I patted his butt to get him moving into his bedroom. Then I tidied my bed with all the wrinkles and the pillows that weren’t done right.

  I couldn’t help but feel content. Alex was already chatting with his invisible friend by the time I turned my back on him.

  “How’d it go?” Mark asked as I sank onto the couch next to him.

  “He’s a good kid.”

  “You wanna beer?”

  “Why would I? You’re the one who can’t hold the line. Weakling.”

  “I did just fine.”

  “You’re a fucking pushover.” I leaned against his shoulder and sighed. “You’re my pushover.”

  “I’m no pushover. You’re the pushover.”

  “Who’s the one who lets him play ball instead of getting in trouble? Who’s the one who takes him shopping and buys him watches and shoes and hats?”

  “Alex says the word ‘tennis’ and you melt like pudding.”

  “You go to his bedroom and you’re supposed to punish him, but he comes out smiling and with a plan to get out of trouble.”

  “He wasn’t exactly in trouble to begin with...”

  I raised my eyebrows. You wanna test me?

  Mark sighed. “I asked him how he knocked it over and he said he was watering the plants.”

  “Oh...” Wait, that doesn’t make sense. There wasn’t water on the ground. And his tomato plant is upright.

  I turned around and squinted at my plants. They didn’t look watered.

  “Fake watering. He takes your empty watering can from plant to plant and pretends to take care of them.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve seen him do it before. It’s cute as hell.”

  Awwwwww. Part of my frigid heart was melting.

  Alex yelled from the back room, “Chrissssss, I’m done cleaning my room!”

  “Okay, buddy. Why don’t you read a book real quick, then we’ll go play ball.”

  “Okaaaay!”

  I lowered my voice again and swatted Mark because he had playfully put a hand over my mouth when I was done yelling. “Why didn’t you tell me he played with my plants?”

  Mark shrugged. “He does a lot of stuff. Guess it slipped my mind.”

  “I’ve never seen him water anything. So he knocked it over with the watering can?”

  “I guess.”

  “What do you mean, you guess?”

  “I mean, shit. I didn’t grill him like his life depended on it. You try to question him when he’s about to start sobbing. He thought you were going to kick him out on the street.”

  “Bullshit.” That made my heart thump uncomfortably and I immediately wanted to run back to Alex’s room and give him a big hug and wrap him in bubble wrap and never let anything hurt him ever.

  “He didn’t say that. But he was really sad and he didn’t mean to break your stupid vase. By the way, I’ve knocked over those damn orchids a million times and you never yelled at me. They’re top-heavy.”

  “That’s what the vase was for. It was a special vase. I would have yelled at you if you broke it.”

  “Bullshit.”

  I readjusted my body. “So he was really watering my plants?”

  “Yes.”

  It was easy to visualize. I could see him talking to himself and carefully tipping the watering can into each plant. Except the orchids didn’t get watered like that, but never mind—it was the thought that counted.

  “I guess that’s kind of cute.”

  We sat like that for a few minutes until we heard soft, cautious steps approach the couch. “I’m done reading,” Alex said.

  “Did you need help with any words?” I asked.

  He shook his head.

  “What did you read? Harry Potter?”

  He shook his head again and laughed bashfully. “I can’t read Harry Potter on my own.”

  “I dunno. You did pretty good the other day. You wanna sit with us for a minute?”

  He was in a pickle. My praise made him eager to obey, but he was done sitting still for one day. “Can we, can we, can we, can we—”

  “Go out and play?” Mark finished.

  He nodded vigorously.

  Mark tapped my leg. “I’ll get my shoes, then we can go play catch.” Mark left me on the couch, but a few seconds later Alex came back with my shoes in his hands.

  “I’m coming,” I grumbled.

  Alex ran away, giggling.

  At least he didn’t put his feet in my shoes like he did that one time. I really wanted to yell at him about it, but Mark had intervened and wouldn’t let me. Eventually, I managed to push my discomfort aside, but my feet still hadn’t quite recovered from that psychological pain. If Alex hadn’t been wearing socks, I never would’ve worn those shoes again.

  My dad once wore my work shoes for an entire day. I never wore them again and got so mad that I made myself sick. Worse than that, my mom once used my razor to shave her legs—the razor that goes on my face. Then she pretended like she didn’t and put the razor back in my bathroom.

  It wouldn’t surprise me if she used my toothbrush to clean the sink or something. She thinks she’s a saint, but would a saint shave her legs with her son’s razor, then pretend like it never happened?

  WE PLAYED BALL FOR half an hour, then walked down to the beach. Mark and I held hands, but then Alex was there wanting to be in the middle of us. We swung him up in the air and the kid was delighted.

  When we got back in our apartment, I made an offer. “Alex,” I said. “Do you want to help me water my plants?”

  His eyes kind of perked up, but he also looked embarrassed.

  “Don’t worry. I want to show you how to do it the right way. Then you can help me in the future.”

  “Otay...” he whispered.

  We watered the few houseplants, then it was time for the orchids. “Now see how these flowers have the air holes in the sides of the container? Orchids don’t get watered like those other plants. Understand?”

  He nodded. He was crouched beside me and wore an expression of fierce determination.

  “I water these in the sink and let them dry for about ten minutes before putting them back on the shelf. That’s five minutes times two.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. We’ll work on multiplication when you start school. First thing we have to do is bring the orchid to the sink. Can you help me with that?” I watched as he hesitated to pick up his plant. “Just do it very carefully. You’ll be fine.”

  He slowly—and I’m talking painfully slowly—lifted the plant off the shelf and took exaggerated steps to follow me into the kitchen.

  “You don’t have to be ‘very’ careful... maybe just a regular amount of careful.”

  “What do you mean?” He stopped about ten steps from me.

  “You can walk normal. Just make sure you’re paying attention and you don’t tip it over.”

  “Like this?”

  “Yes, like that.” But ten times faster. This isn’t rocket science. “Good job. Now we need to get the others and set them on the counter.”

  Alex ran ahead of me and picked out another of my orchids. He looked at me for verification and I nodded. He moved a little faster with the second plant. Soon, we had all my orchids lined up on the counter.

  “You wanna help me do the watering?” I picked him up under the armpits and set him on the edge of the counter with his feet in the sink. He giggled the entire time. “Watch your head on the cabinet.” I handed him the hose from the sink. “Now make sure you get each pot nice and wet.”

  He hesitated so I grabbed his hand, pulled the trigger and splashed water all over the place, including on his legs. He took the opportunity to splash my arms, so when we were done with the plants, I gave his shirt a little squirt.

  He got excited and I had to rem
ind him about not hitting his head on the cabinet. Then I handed him the hose and he splashed me in the face.

  “Now do you,” I said.

  He giggled, but eventually squirted his own face.

  “Good job! Now let’s change into some clean clothes.” I deposited him on the ground. “You’re a good helper. Next time you can help me water the plants. Maybe we can get you your own orchid to take care of... along with your tomatoes.”

  “Yeah! And I can water them in the sink.” He ran ahead of me, but instead of going to his bedroom, he ducked into the bathroom. He pulled the little stool up to the sink and stood in front of the mirror like he was going to brush his teeth. “See. I can do it right here all by myself.”

  “Uhhh...” That’s not what I was thinking. Shit. That’s dirty. We brush our teeth over that sink. Ain’t no way you’re watering anything in there.

  He ran back to the living room and returned with a miniature orchid. “See this one is just the right size,” he explained. Then he submerged the little orchid in an ocean of water and it overflowed into my perfectly clean sink.

  I was absolutely speechless.

  In the end, it wasn’t a huge sacrifice to allow Alex to water some of our plants in the bathroom sink. He could reach it easily and the tiled floors were designed to have a grip even if they got damp. I guess it was my own fault that he wanted to do it anyway, so I couldn’t be mad about it.

  Also, before our hunt for a replacement vase, Mark and I decided that Alex could have his very own houseplant to take care of and we would stick it in the living room. Well... Mark didn’t have much of a say, actually. I decided on a bamboo arrangement because it was simple to identify when it needed water and it didn’t take any more attention other than that and you couldn’t over-water it.

  Of course, the arrangement wasn’t just a simple cluster of bamboo. I used an old cluster that I’d given my mom years earlier and mixed it with several younger, shorter cuttings.

  “It’s a bamboo forest,” I explained to Alex. “It’s Alex’s Bamboo Forest.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  He helped me choose which stalks went where and he helped me tie them together. We chose the rocks that went in the bottom. Our container was a glass casserole dish so we could watch the roots spread.

  It was a lot of fun to set up and Alex was so proud of his new responsibility that we created a new bedtime story about the Bamboo Forest and what might be hiding around each new corner. This forest, of course, was just beyond the Magazine Castle but before you made it to the magic genie’s secret lair.