Dad's been gone for too long. The room was only paid until yesterday and a hundred dollars will only keep us for a couple more days, even if I only eat a little bit. The room isn't expensive, but Sammy needs lunch money and a new backpack because the one he has was fixed so many times it's barely holding together anymore. Normally, it'd be easy to pack up and camp out in the woods for however long Dad's gone. If we only needed food, a hundred dollars will last us a month, but it's too cold outside to camp. There was snow last night and Sammy's getting a cold. He keeps wiping at his nose and his cheeks are redder than they normally are. He needs to be warm.
That's how I convince myself.
Sammy needs to be warm and I need to take care of Sammy.
It's more than something Dad's pounded into my head. He never even needed to ask. Sammy's my brother and I'll do anything to keep him safe, no matter what. I've been taking care of him for my whole life and I'm not going to stop now.
I tuck him into bed early, making sure to give him the extra blanket in the closet to keep him warm. The hotel doesn't have a working heater and the cold seeps through the walls. Sammy falls asleep quickly, something he never does. He's always fussing and complaining about having to go to sleep. His easy compliance only confirms my suspicion that he's getting sick. All the more reason this is necessary.
I still look too young for anyone to let me into a bar to hustle pool. If Dad was here, they might let me in just to play a few rounds so long as he was with me, but they won't let me in alone. I know. I've tried. Instead, I stand just outside and lean against the bricks, waiting. It's not the first time and it's probably not the last, but it scares me that it's getting easier.
When I return to Sammy a few hours later, I have enough money to make it a month, maybe two, if Dad's still not back. After that, I don't know.
I can still taste it, even after I brush my teeth a dozen times. I can still feel it, even after I shower and scrub everything off. The shower runs cold after a little while, but it feels good on my skin. It was too hot before. After another few minutes, when the water is on the wrong side of too cold, I turn it off and change into a relatively clean pair of pajamas. Sammy's awake and watching me while I slip into bed next to him. Even with Dad gone, we share a bed. I tell myself it's because I want to keep Sam safe, that I need to make sure he's there, but it's really because I don't want to be alone.
He scoots over to make room for me and helps slide the covers up to my shoulders. "Shhh," he says. "It's okay, Dee." It's not until then that I realize I'm shaking. I'm supposed to keep Sammy safe, but I only feel safe when I'm with him. He hugs me while I cry and it really is okay when it's just Sammy that's here with me. He hums 'Hey, Jude' like Mom used to when I was sick, like I hum to Sammy when he has nightmares. It's nice.
"Thanks, Sammy," I say when I finish shaking. "Love you."
"Love you, Dee."
The hotel room door opens and my arm darts under the pillow for my gun just in case it's Dad. Anyone else, I don't really care about, but if I don't draw my weapon when someone enters the room and Dad catches me… there's worse things to cry about.
"Dean," he greets.
"Dad."
"Go back to sleep, the both of you. We're leaving in the morning."
I nod my head, tuck the gun back under the pillow, and lay down a respectable distance away from Sammy. Show no weakness around Dad, ever. It's the first rule I learned. I want to cry again, but I can't. I won't. There's just over eight hundred dollars in the money clip hidden in my boot that I don't need now, but at least it's there for next time. It offers a little bit of comfort knowing I can take care of Sammy on my own, but not enough to keep the memories away. I want Sammy to keep humming in my ear so I can sleep. He doesn't though. He turns over and falls asleep again. After a while, I can hear Dad snoring in the bed next to ours. I can't sleep so I lay awake and stare at the ceiling until morning.