Jackie was truly the baby of the family. Aside from being the youngest, he was also the last to arrive. Angel and Jerry had been with Evelyn for nearly two years, and Bobby was going on year one. She'd finalized his adoption only a week before mentioning they'd be getting a new foster kid.
Bobby and Angel had been playing street hockey when the social worker had pulled up in a damned nice car. She had to get out and tug the boy from the car, a tall eight year old with gangly limbs who stared at the ground the entire walk to the door, nothing by the way of possessions but a small bag clutched to his chest.
"She's gonna baby that one," Angel said, leaning on his hockey stick and glaring at his back. Until Jack had come along he'd been the youngest of them all, only having turned fourteen a month before.
"She don't baby no one," Bobby replied. Then again Evelyn had never had a foster kid that young. They usually came to her in their early teens, and they usually were the type of kids who needed a firm hand. Hell, Bobby had been in Juvy once, Angel had just barely managed to avoid it, and Jerry had been kicked out of two schools before they'd made it to her.
"Anyway who gives a shit? He'll probably be adopted in a month anyway." Quiet scared ones always seemed to go over well with those good Samaritan types. They always wanted to prove they could be patient and loving. "We playing or what?"
The thing about Jack that Bobby noticed right away was that he looked perpetually terrified. His stance was always tense and his gray eyes were always big and darting, as if looking for all the exits.
For the first two weeks, if someone addressed him he would visibly start. It was slightly annoying, truth be known.
Most irritating, however, was that he didn't speak. Not a hello, not even a thank you – which was something he, Jerry, and Angel were chastised for on a daily basis. Angel had been right. Evelyn babied him. She constantly talked to him, and didn't so much as frown at his silence. If they started to roughhouse while he was in the room she'd send them all to their rooms, as if afraid his delicate baby eyes couldn't handle it.
She also stopped coming to his hockey games, since little Jackie was too much of a baby to stay home alone.
It was obnoxious.
Angel downright disliked the kid. He picked on him anytime Evelyn was out of earshot, calling him Cracker Jack and other names. Bobby, depending on his mood, would join him, calling him a little fairy boy. And while Jerry tolerated Jack, he never went out of his way to defend him when they'd get started. They knew he understood what they were saying, as anytime they'd start being nasty his eyes would immediately find the ground and stay there.
Of course they got caught one day. It was Bobby's fault, having been so caught up in calling Jack an ungrateful shit eater (he was in a particular mood that day, as his hockey team had made the playoffs and no one had been there to see it) they didn't hear her come in from hanging laundry.
She'd been livid – even called him Robert – and the three of them had been sent to their rooms without dinner.
There was a knock on his door much later. He mumbled, "Come in," from where he was sprawled out on his bed.
"Bobby," Evelyn said softly, closing the door behind her as she entered his room. It was dark - he was seventeen and brooding and it seemed to be fitting. The street lamp illuminated her face as she took a seat at his desk chair. "I need to talk to you."
"I'm sorry, all right?" he said, not sounding sorry at all.
"Why are you so angry with him?" she asked in that annoyingly insightful way she had about her.
"I'm not."
She didn't say anything to that and they sat in silence. Bobby sensed she was waiting on him. He sat up suddenly. "He's an ungrateful brat!" he exclaimed softly, aware that said brat was probably in bed, since Evelyn finally seemed to have time to talk to him. "You shouldn't let you treat him like that."
"Treat me like what?" she asked.
"He doesn't say anything. He doesn't care about what you do for him, but you spend all your time babying him."
"Bobby, I'm going to tell you something, because I think you're old enough to know. I'm going to ask you, however, not to tell Jeremiah and Angel."
And then she'd explained to him just what sort of childhood Jack had had thus far. She explained about his father. About how at the age of six, Jack had seen his mother shoved down the steps and break her neck. About how he'd been in and out of foster care homes where he'd been neglected or locked in closets by older children.
"He doesn't speak because he grew up in a place where if he spoke, if he made a noise, he ran the risk of getting hit. He's not ungrateful, he's scared. I took him in because he needs someone to look after him, Bobby," she said. "And I honestly believed that you three would do that, just like you look after one another. That, I think, is what has disappointed me most."
She stood then, and his stomach twisted in an odd way when he caught sight of her sad expression. "Sleep well, Bobby," she said, leaning over and kissing him good night on his forehead. He didn't think to protest the action.
Bobby's punishment was to pick up Jack from school for a week, missing hockey practice in the process. He'd walk over from the high school and like clockwork, Jack would be sitting dutifully on the steps, waiting. Bobby would stand on the sidewalk and wait for him to trot up to him and follow him home like a puppy.
Day four of this, Bobby couldn't do it. It was hell on earth walking home in silence, and knowing now what he did about the kid, being annoyed only made him feel guilty, which just served to make him angry. He decided to take a smoke break – a bad habit he'd picked up in the foster home before Evelyn – before going to get Jack. A few friends stopped to talk to him, and before he realized it he was forty five minutes late to pick him up. Evelyn was going to kill him.
"You better not have moved you little runt," he said through gritted teeth as he ran to the elementary school. Please, please, don't let him have left those steps.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he drew near to the school and saw the boy still sitting there.
He wasn't even alone. There were too other boys, slightly older than Jack was. Bobby waited a moment for him to spot him, but Jack's eyes were glued to the ground in a way that was familiar. Bobby strode over to the boys, already having a fairly good idea of what was going on.
"--they finally realize you're useless to have around?" Bobby heard as he approached.
"Who'd want a little sissy boy who can't talk, anyway?"
"Hey!" Bobby said, and the two boys whirled around. Jack started, looking up with wide eyes. "Leave him alone before I use your heads for hockey practice, you little punks."
The two suddenly looked terrified and took off, clearly having recognized him. He was well known around town as someone not to fuck with, and he was proud of it.
He looked down at Jack. "You all right, Jackie?" he asked, and he didn't know which of them was more surprised to hear the nickname Evelyn always called him come out of his mouth. Jack blinked and nodded quickly. "Come on, let's get out of here."
The boy scrambled to his feet and followed him. They walked in silence for several minutes before Bobby said, "Sorry I was late, kid."
After that, Jack seemed to be anywhere Bobby was. If the teen was sprawled on the couch watching the game, Jackie would sit silently in the arm chair, legs pulled up to his chest and chin resting on his knees. If he was getting a snack from the kitchen, Jack would slink into a kitchen chair and watch him with those big eyes, which usually earned him some of whatever Bobby was making.
Strangely enough, it was going on three months and it still didn't bother Bobby. Jack deliberately stayed out of the way and it wasn't like he pestered him with questions. Plus, he could tell it made Evelyn happy, and it was hard to be annoyed by something that did that.
Angel still picked on Jack from time to time, but for the most part, probably thanks to a chat with Evelyn he let him be.
"There's your little shadow," Angel said when Jackie came outside while they were playing hockey and took a seat on the front steps to watch the game.
"Hey, now we have a fan," Jerry said.
"Bobby does, at least," Angel said. They always played Bobby versus Angel and Jerry, since he was the only of the three who played for a team. "Don't it piss you off that he's always around?"
"He lives here, Angel, where else would he be?" Jerry said, rolling his eyes.
"Screw you, Jerry, that's not what I meant. He follows Bobby around like a love sick puppy."
"He's alright," Bobby said with a shrug. "He ain't hurting anything."
"Hey Jackie-poo," Angel called to the boy, who perked at the sound of his name, despite the tease behind it. "Why don't you come play with us?" Jack blinked at him, then looked over at Bobby. "What's the matter?" Angel asked. "We don't bite. Well Jerry might with those big teeth."
"Leave him alone, Angel," Bobby said. "He gets picked on enough at school, he doesn't need that shit at home too."
"Who picks on him at school?" Jerry asked.
"Some little punks. Caught them harassing him after school."
"What?" Angel said, and Bobby was surprised to see him look angry. "Did you kick their asses?"
"Nah, they ran off before I could. What's with the sudden caring, Angel, you bully him too."
"That's different," Angel scoffed. "I'm allowed to 'cause I don't really mean it." Jerry and Bobby exchanged a slightly exasperated look.
"Jackie, come here," Angel called to the boy, who hadn't left his spot on the step, despite Angel's previous invitation. Jack stared at him. "Come on kid." Jackie slowly stood and shuffled his way over, looking slightly apprehensive.
"Listen up," Angel said, crossing his arms and looking down at the boy. "Anyone picks on you in school you make sure you tell us." Big grey eyes stared up at him. "You let us know, understand?"
Jack, realizing he was waiting on a response, nodded.
"Okay, good," Angel said. "Now are you playing or not, Cracker Jack? You can be on Bobby's team; he needs a good handicap anyway."
Jackie looked unsure.
"It's all right, kid, there's no losing on the Michigan Mauler's team," Bobby said.
"Shut up with that stupid ass nickname," Jerry said. "Nobody calls you that."
"Jerry, stop being such a smartass and respect your elders—"
"By one year!"
"—it's a good nickname and people tremor in fear at the very mention of it."
Angel started laughing. "Yeah right!"
"It's not that scary," a small voice said, and the three fell silent and looked down at Jackie, who appeared flustered at the sudden attention. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again and plunged on. "I mean… I guess… the name is, sorta. But you aren't, Bobby."
Angel pointed at Jack, "Ha! Finally! Do it again!"
Jackie didn't quite seem to know what to do in response.
Bobby smacked Angel upside the head. "He ain't a novelty toy."
"Come on kid," Angel said, ignoring Bobby and taking Jackie's hand, tugging him toward the house. "Ma! You have to hear this!"