A/N: So, I wrote this knowing full well that this will probably all be irrelevant next month but what the hell. Maybe this will hold you over until then.
I sit in the car as Dad drives Sam and I to the library. It's completely silent. Dad promised to let us each get a book. I keep having to shift in my seat. It hurts to sit. Dad did a number on me last night for spilling his beer on him. Okay, don't think about that Nate. Just look out the window and think about the book you're about to get.
Dad takes a left instead of a right. "Um, Dad?" I start shakily. "I think you went the wrong way."
"Do not question me, Nathan. I know where I'm going."
"Yes, of course, sorry."
We drive another half an hour before Dad pulls up to a scary looking building. He tells Sam and I to get out of the car so we do what he says even though I can tell we're both terrified. Sam stays close to me. He hasn't left me alone since Dad had his fill with me last night. He even spent the night with me in my bed.
Dad leads us into the building. Sam and I flinch as the door slams shut behind us. "I don't like it here," I whisper to my brother.
"Me neither."
A woman in dark blue robes meets us in the middle of the hall. I can't hear what she says to Dad, but she speaks in a robotic manner. She leads us to a room and asks us to sit outside while Dad finishes up something. Sam and I sit in silence and watch as a group of boys walk by carrying buckets and brooms. Another pair of boys run by. Then another three go by, all staring at the same book. "Why are they all boys?" I wonder aloud.
"Beats me," Sam responds, scratching the back of his head.
Suddenly the door opens and Dad and the blue woman shake hands. He turns to us and begins talking. "Now, boys, I want you to be good for Sister Beth, alright? She's gonna be taking good care of you. I will be back as soon as I can, but for now you're staying here so... goodbye."
And with that he turns around and walks towards the door we came through. I look over at Sam, confused. Sam looks shocked at first, but then he scowls and looks at his feet. Oh god...
I stand up, heart in my throat. Sister Beth puts a hand on my shoulder to calm me, but I push her away. "Dad..." I breathe. "Dad!" He turns around just in time for me to wrap my arms around his legs. "Daddy, don't go."
"Nathan, let go of my legs."
"But Daddy, I love you. Why are you leaving me?"
He sighs and crouches down to my eye level. "I'm out of money, Nathan. I can't take care of you right now, but I'm going to work hard so I can get you back. And I will be back. I promise." He uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. "Don't cry over me, son. Be brave."
"Okay," I sniffle. Dad's hand is replaced by Sister Beth's. She pulls me away from him and he offers me a small smile. "I love you," I say, trembling.
Dad nods. "Yeah." He stands and exits without another word.
A few months later...
"Am I in trouble?" I ask, lip trembling in fear as Sister Margret leads me down the hall to an unspecified location.
"No, it's okay, Nathan. You're not in trouble. There's just a few people who want to meet you.
"Okay." I've been at the St. Francis Boy's Home for two months and everyday is something new. New boys, new chores, and worst of all: new forms of punishment. It turns out that Sam was wrong about Dad leaving being a good thing. The nuns don't beat us, per say, but they're very creative. Punishments are administered for not doing chores, not staying in bed during the night, getting things wrong in class, and even for singing the wrong note in mass. The range of punishments run from writing lines to extra chores to rulers across the palm to no dinner. Now maybe you'll understand why I question what I'm being thrown into right now. Maybe I did something wrong without even knowing it, and Sister Margret is taking me to some new form of torture.
She stops us in front of a door and nudges me inside. I'm practically quivering in fear at this point. I know I must have done something, and I'm about to get the caning of a lifetime. "Have a seat, Nathan." I do as I'm told and climb up into the adult sized chair. When I finally poke my head up over the top of the desk, my eyes widen at the sight of a man and woman sitting across from me. Before I can ask any questions, Sister Margret introduces them. "This is Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds. They just want to get to know you a little. Would you be alright with answering a few questions about yourself?"
I nod silently, heart beating hard in my chest.
Sister Margret motions to me to give the young couple the go ahead. "Hello, Nathan," Mr. Reynolds says. "I was wondering how you feel about school?"
"Um..." I glance over at Sister Margret, but she merely gives me an encouraging smile. I turn back to the Reynolds and answer, "I like it, I guess."
"You guess?" Mrs. Reynolds laughs. "You don't know?"
"Well, I've only been going to school for two months. I like it so far, but the other boys say it gets worse."
"Oh, I see. Do you like to read?"
I perk up a little. "Yes, I love to read. Reading is one of my most favoritest things in the world."
"Really? What else do you like to do?" the man says with a kind face. If this is a punishment, it's not so bad.
"I like to draw and sing and learn and run and..." I try to think of anything else I like to do, but nothing comes to mind.
"You are just the sweetest thing," sighs Mrs. Reynolds. "I could just take him home right now."
"So you think he's the one for you?" Sister Margret asks, gathering up a few papers and a pen.
The one for you? What does that mean?
The couple look at each other happily and nod. "Yes, we'll take him."
Take me? Take me where?
"Well, that's wonderful! You just have to sign these forms and you can take him home at the end of the day." Sister Margret pushes the papers over to the couple.
"Wait, what?" I ask frantically. The fear from before comes back in a surge. This is worse than any of the punishments thus far. "I don't want to leave! I want to stay here with Sam! I don't want to go!" I stand up and look around desperately for a way to escape.
"Nathan, sit," Sister Margret commands giving me a fierce look.
"But-"
"No buts. These people are very nice and want to adopt you."
"But I don't want to be adopted! I want my real Dad back! I'm not going with those people!" I don't want to cry, but I know it's inevitable.
"Nathan, that's enough. Now, sit." Sister Margret makes a move to grab me by the shirt collar, but I duck out of the way. Knowing if I'm caught, I'm going to be forced to go with these people, I jump off the chair and head for the door.
I wrench it open by yanking on the lever and pulling with all my might. I have a plan. It's not a very complex plan, but it's a plan none the less. If I can find Sam, I'll be safe. He can protect me.
I charge full speed down the hallway towards our room. Or rather, the direction I think the room is. I get lost a lot. There's too many similar looking hallways. "SAM!" I scream, hearing heavy footsteps racing after me. I'm running out of time. "SAM, HELP ME! THEY'RE GONNA TAKE ME AWAY!"
The door opens as soon as I skid to a stop. Sam looks alarmed. "Nathan? What's-"
"Hide me! They're coming!"
"Who's coming?"
Mr. Reynolds rounds the corner before I can answer. "Hurry, he's trying to take me away!"
Sam's eyes widen in sudden understanding. "Get behind me." He pulls me inside and adopts a protective demeanor as my pursuer gets to the doorway.
"It's okay, son. I'm not gonna hurt you. I just want to see the little one hiding behind you," Mr. Reynolds says calmly.
"No," Sam growls, crossing his arms. "You're not taking my little brother."
"This is your brother?"
"Yes, so back off. You can't have him!"
"What are you, 10? You're a little young to know what's best for your little brother. He'll have a better life with me and my wife."
"Liar!" Sam snarls.
Mr. Reynolds' nostrils flare. "Give me your brother."
"No!"
He takes a step forward so he's looking down at us. "I'm not messing around. Nathan, come here."
"N-No thank you, mister," I stutter.
Mr. Reynolds must finally have reached his tipping point. He tries to reach around Sam to grab me, but Sam swats his hand away. My would-be father takes Sam's head and moves him off to the side. I nearly dodge his outstretched fingers. Nearly.
"NOOOO! PLEEEEEASE!"
"Nathan, it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."
"I don't wanna go! Please, I don't wanna go!" I flail my legs and arms around as much as I can in Mr. Reynolds' grasp. What doesn't he get about this? How can I make it any clearer?
I'm carried against my will down the stairs back to Mrs. Reynolds and Sister Margret. My tear-stained face tells the story for me. "Oh, the poor dear," Mrs. Reynolds sighs. She holds out her arms. "I'll take him, sweetheart. He needs a mother's touch."
I squirm in her grasp, refusing to get comfortable in her arms. Mr. Reynolds sits with a huff. "You didn't tell us he has a brother," he says to Sister Margret.
She simply waves her hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, the brother. I figured you wouldn't want to hear about him. He's only been at the Home for a few months and he's already gathered a collection of citations that rival some of those of the boys who have been here years. Nathan is definitely the better behaved of the two."
"Well behaved, huh?" my current captor asks, struggling to keep me in her lap.
"He's just a little riled up at the moment. He's not usually like this. He'll be better after a few days. It takes time for them to get adjusted to their new home."
"I don't want a new home," I sniffle. "I want my old home back. I want Mommy."
"I'll be your new Mommy, sweetie. Don't you worry," coos Mrs. Reynolds.
"No, I want my Mommy!"
"Nathan," Sister Margret snaps. "These people are being very nice and allowing you a place in their home. You should be respectful."
"BUT I DON'T WANT THEIR HOME!" I wail at the top of my lungs. Maybe if I yell, they'll finally understand. "I WANT MY HOME, MY MOMMY, MY DADDY, MY SAM, MY-"
"NATHAN, THAT'S ENOUGH!" shouts Sister Margret. I quiet down to subdued sobbing. "Most of the children in this Home will never get an opportunity like this. An opportunity for a family."
"But I already have one. I have Sam here. I have Dad somewhere. And I have Mom in heaven. I don't need another family. Give someone else my opportunity."
"So you'd rather stay here than with this nice couple?"
"Yes." How has she not gotten this yet? I thought adults were supposed to be smart...
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure you're sure? Once you decide, there's no going back."
"Yes."
"Okay." Sister Margret uncaps a big, black marker and hovers it over a paper on her desk. "I'm going to do it."
"Okay."
"I'm really going to do it, you know. It's not a joke."
"Okay."
"Here I go."
"Okay."
Sister Margret finally uses the marker to slowly draw a long line through a few words on the paper. "It's done, Nathan. There's no going back. Are you happy?"
"Yes. Can I go now?"
"Just a second. I have to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds out in the hallway for a minute, and I'll be back."
Mrs. Reynolds places me in the extra chair next to her and exits the room with her husband. They don't even look back at me. I don't care. I didn't like them anyway.
Sister Margret stays true to her word and returns alone a few minutes later. But this time, she's carrying a big ruler and a mean look on her face.
Years later...
Sam's bed springs squeak as he jumps up and down. "Aren't you bored?" he asks.
I sigh and look up from my books. "Sam, I have to study for this test tomorrow. If I fail, I'll have to scrub the chapel for months."
"So? It's not that bad. It's actually kinda fun sometimes."
"I think you and I have different ideas of the word 'fun'."
"Oh, come on." He slams my book shut. "Let's sneak out."
"Absolutely not."
"Why not? The older boys do it."
"The difference is when we seek out, we get caught, but you leave me to take all the blame. You always get off Scott free."
"Well, this time, we won't get caught."
"Yeah, right. I think I'm just gonna keep studying. Theology really isn't my thing."
"Nathan, you can't spend your whole life with your nose in a book. You have to get out there and do things, not just read about them."
"Maybe I want to know more about the world before I go out there. It's safer than diving in headfirst."
"Safety, shmafety. You're so lame."
"I'd rather be lame than dead."
"That's your call. I'm going out."
"I'm not gonna cover for you this time, you know. You're on your own."
"Fine. I never needed you anyway."
"Oh, like that time I talked that guy out of stabbing you? Or that other time when I saved you from falling off the roof?"
"Wow, look at little Nathan. My baby brother thinks he's all grown up. How cute."
"You are always pulling this crap! If you really think I'm dragging you down, just leave! I'm sure as hell not gonna stop you."
"Is this coming from the same boy who begged me to never leave his side?"
"That was years ago. Things change." I pause then say, "And don't call me 'boy'."
"I can call you whatever I want, Nathan. I'm older, so I have seniority."
I roll my eyes and turn back to my textbook. I reopen it to Chapter 6. "Whatever."
Sam narrows his eyes. He grabs my shoulder and spins me around in my chair. "Don't 'whatever' me."
I push against his chest. "You're just like Dad, always trying to boss me around."
"I'm not bossing you around. I'm just giving you suggestions and you're dumb enough to take them."
"Shut up, asshole."
"Oh, now we're using big boy words."
"If you're trying to convince me into going with you, you're doing a terrible job."
"You know what? I think you're just scared."
"Wow, is that all you've got?" He puts his hands under his armpits and clucks like a chicken. "And you're the older one?" I ask. Sam gets even louder. "Okay, seriously, shut up. I'm trying to study." He keeps clucking and flapping his arms like wings. I try to ignore him, but eventually I resort to sticking my fingers in my ears and say, "La, la, la! I can't hear you! La, la, la, la, la!"
This goes on for a minute or so before Sister Juliana opens the door. "Boys! Really?" she scolds.
"Sorry, Sister Juliana," we say in unison. I nearly smile when I see how embarrassed Sam looks. He's turned a dark shade of red.
"Can you not act civilized for five minutes? Maybe we do need to separate you two. It would save us a lot of trouble."
"It won't happen again," I assure her. "I think Sam's done making a fool of himself." Sam shoots daggers at me.
"That's what you said last time," she points out. "Unfortunately, not much has changed since then. You two are on your last pair of legs and, with your track record, I don't think they'll last too long."
As soon as she closes the door, I hop out of the way of Sam's punch. I knew he was going to lunge for me. "Screw you, Nathan," he says softly, not wanting to yell.
"That was all you, bro."
"All right, that's it, I'm leaving." He opens the window and looks back at me. "And you're not invited."
"Good. I didn't want to come anyway," I call after him, but he's already gone. I doubt he heard me.
I study for another hour, then stretch out on my bed. Mine's always neat and made up, but Sam's is always messy. He's constantly getting in trouble for that. Honestly, if he wasn't my brother, I probably wouldn't associate myself with him. But, then again, I don't have any other real friends here besides him, so maybe it was meant to be.
Years later...
"And, here we are," Sully says as the cabby pulls up in front of an apartment building. "It's not much, but it's something."
The building sits just outside the city and is within walking distance of the beach. "So cool," I whisper.
I jump out of the cab and run up to the door. Sully opens the door with his key and I gasp at the sight of the interior. "Holy shit..." There's a receptionist, a glittering chandelier, a fountain, and even a grand piano. "Are you a millionaire?"
"Nah, this is just for show. The actual apartments are pretty normal looking." I follow closely behind Sully trying to take in everything at once. "I live on the second floor, so I usually just take the stairs."
We pass a woman with her two young children. I smile at them, but they just stare at me. "Why are they looking at me like that?"
"Everybody knows everybody here. You're the new guy."
"Oh." I don't like drawing attention to myself. Being invisible is the easiest way to avoid trouble.
"Okay, here we are," Sully says, sticking his keys in the lock. "Home sweet home."
"Home?"
"You didn't think you had to find your own place, did you? You're staying with me."
Sully gives me the royal tour, showing me the living room, kitchen/dining room, bathroom, and his bedroom. He finishes off with the guest room. The entire far wall is a bookshelf. It doesn't have many books, but it's filled with various knickknacks. It looks kinda like an old library. "I like this room," I say, mulling over a map of Asia hanging on the wall.
"Well, good, 'cause it's yours."
"Wha-, mine?"
"I'm not gonna make you sleep on the floor. This is your room. Decorate it however you want."
"Wow. A whole room just for me." I run a hand over the covers. "Are you sure? Where are your guests gonna sleep?"
"Well, usually my 'guests' sleep with me."
"Okay, didn't need to know that," I laugh, climbing up the side of the bed. I stand up and give it a few test bounces before putting all my strength into jumping.
Sully chuckles when I hit my head on the ceiling. "You hungry?" he asks as I rub my head tenderly.
"Well, I'm not starving, but I could eat."
"Alright, how 'bout pizza?"
I smile. "Sure. I've never had pizza before."
Sully shakes his head. "Then you haven't lived before today."
Sully and I walk to a pizza place down the street. He tells the people behind the counter of my condition and they spring into action. They sit me in a booth and lay out twelve pizzas with twelve different kinds of toppings. I sample each one to find "my taste". It turns out my taste is pretty close to Sully's with one noticeable exception: mushrooms. Sully tells me he can't stand the taste of them. We walk home with two medium pies, one with mushrooms and one without. We have a few slices of our respective pizzas while Sully teaches me how to work the TV.
Soon enough, Sully sends me to bed. My bed. I still can't get over that. I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling of my room. It's incredible to think how much has happened in these past two days. Yesterday, I was literally sleeping on the street and now... I have my own room. Before, it was either have a roof over your head or have personal space. Today, it's both. I fall asleep with a smile on my face, something that hasn't happened in a really long time.
Three years later...
I take a deep breath and open my eyes against the bright, morning sun streaming through the blinds of the living room. I shift on my sit bones, attempting to reduce the bruising feeling. It feels like hours since I first sat down, but I don't actually know the time for sure. I refuse to check my watch.
I press the tips of my fingers together and rest my chin against them. My eyes dart from yellowed maps to crisply printed Wikipedia articles to overdue library books to more yellowed maps. What am I missing? I drop my head a little further and tap my fingers in an erratic pattern against my forehead. Think, Nate, think!
A gravelly voice startles me out of my stupor. "Kid, what the hell did you do to my living room?"
"I'm... researching."
"I can see that. But why, pray tell, has your research vomited all over the floor?"
I blink and lean back to get a better view of my work. Scattered all over the floor of the room are papers and thick books creating a semi-circle around myself. In short, I made a huge mess. "I thought I would be easier to see everything this way."
"Why couldn't you use your room?"
"I tried. It was too small."
"Did you even sleep?" Sully asks, observing me yawn.
"Uh... I don't think so."
He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. "When's the last time you ate?"
"Yesterday."
"Evening?"
"...Morning."
"And only because I forced you to." Sully carefully makes his way to my position, only stepping where the carpet shows. He offers me his hand, and I use it to pull myself up. "Come on, let's get some food into you. Don't want you passing out on me."
He sits me at the table and moves to gather some food. "Thanks Sully," I murmur, yawning again.
"You know I don't mind." He places a plate with toast and a glass of orange juice in front of me.
Sully sits next to me a pulls a half smoked cigar out of his pocket and proceeds to light it as I eat. "You know," I says, "I'm still not too keen about letting you get that apartment across town. If you can't even remember to eat and sleep with me here, how are you going to survive on your own?"
"I can't live with you forever," I say, hungrily cramming food in my mouth. "I can't stand those cigars any longer."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I just want to make sure you can take care of yourself. I don't want you to be too far from home. What if something happens and I can't get there in time?"
"I can take care of myself. You don't have to worry about me."
"But I do. You have a way of finding trouble in the strangest of places."
"I'll be fine! How many times do we have to go over this?" I cover my mouth as another yawn presses tears from my eyes. I didn't realize how tired I was.
"Alright, alright, we'll have this conversation later. You need your sleep."
"No, no, not yet. I'm close to figuring out where-"
"Nate, I'm not arguing with you about this. You haven't slept for 36 hours. You need to get at least a few hours of shut eye." He lays his cigar in the ashtray and helps me to my feet.
I finally make it to my bed under the watch of Sully. He makes for the door once he's sure I'll stay under the covers. "Thanks Sully."
"Sweet dreams, kid."
