Part IV

The drive to Venice Beach was quiet but Callen's nerves weren't. You could almost hear his thoughts as he argued internally about this decision. The idea of sharing his past with someone tore him apart. He spent the entire ride tapping on the steering wheel. His reactions to the other drivers weren't his usual quiet approach. I watched his face as some driver made a poor choice. He never spoke; instead it was a visceral expression of his silent rage. I began to worry about his mood. I'd never seen him this way and I felt that my questions had pushed him to this. I felt ashamed of doing this to him after he'd saved me yet again.

I'd never been to Venice Beach but Callen had lived here on the streets and he said that he'd lived in a seedy apartment right off the beach for a while. I found it funny, oh not in a ha-ha way but just didn't seem right for him. He is a taciturn, private person. He didn't seem like the kind of man who could live in the carnival atmosphere that pervaded the boardwalk.

He parked the car and grabbed a blanket from the backseat. The beach was dark and very empty except for the lovers walking the beach in the moonlight. We walked the sand in silence to the halfway point between the water and the sidewalk where he spread the blanket. The waves would cover the sound of his voice and keep it from carrying to the others.

We sat on the beach looking at the waves for ten minutes or so before he started speaking and it happened so abruptly and quietly that I almost missed it. "I didn't know my parents and I still don't know where I was born. I have no idea where I belong. Since I first learned to use a computer I've searched for them to no avail. I'm not even sure that G Callen is my real name." He held that thought for a few moments as he watched the ocean move in front of him. "This is what I live with every day."

His face was a study of all the pain he felt, his voice full of sorrow and I'd caused it. I felt a tear move down my cheek. "I'm so sorry."

He gave a sad chuckle. "Don't be. It is time that I get it out and adjust to it. I carry it around like a lead weight and that needs to stop."

I reached out and touched his shoulder. I wanted to alleviate some of his pain. "Can I help you with this?"

He turned to me with a surprised look. "Why would you want to? It's a heavy load." He looked back at the sea and you could see his uneasiness abate a little. The moving of the water seemed a balm to his soul.

I joined his gaze on the water. "That's what sisters are for. You've helped me and now it's my turn to help you."

He never met my eyes but as I turned I saw him nod and with that nod I saw his body relax. "I was in an orphanage until I was six. That's what attracted me to you; the age similarity. After the orphanage, which I don't really remember, I was dropped into the foster care system. Why, I don't know. It was a hellish existence going from one awful foster home to another: most went beyond awful all the way to horrendous. A handful of the homes were loving, caring places but I didn't stay there long enough to get what I needed. I learned at a very young age to protect myself and at age fourteen I'd had enough and ran away. I lived out here for almost a year." He motioned to the strip of stores and arcades behind us as the place where he'd lived. "When I found a money bag from one of the shops and turned it into the police they wanted to know how I came to have it and the owner of the store, who'd actually lost it, blamed me. He knew that I was a homeless kid on the block, and that I lived one handout to another and no one would believe me, so off to jail I went. Juvenal Hall is an abysmal place. It is almost as bad as the foster system. They beat me, taunted me and in the end I fought back. My final insult to them was to escape and crash two police cruisers. They had me and were going to take me back when the hand of god intervened: Hetty. She took me home with her and my life changed for the better. There is just one thing." He got a far off look in his eyes again. "I still don't know anything about me."

I understood where his feelings came from but wanted him to understand that even though were not related by blood, we are related by adversity. "You are a good man, why let this bother you. You do have a family…all those Lost Boys and Girls that you helped. Every one of them would love to help you with this."

He took my hand and squeezed it. "You have your mom and Jason, you had Jacob, that's family. That's what I want. I don't even have memories of my mom and dad. I appreciate what you're doing for me but this is something I carry alone. Thank you for listening and caring." He looked back to the ocean as if he needed the calming effect.

I felt a great sorrow for him. I put my arms around him to give him some comfort. "Just know that if you need me, I'm right here. All you have to do is call. Okay?"

He hugged me back. "I'll be okay, but thanks for the support." He looked down at his watch. "It's eleven o'clock and it's a long drive back to your dorm room. Let's get you home." He smirked down at me. "I bet you still have homework to do."

I gave him one of his smirks back. "Yeah I do, but I've got no classes tomorrow so I'll do it then."

He tweaked my nose and we stood from the sand. He shook the blanket and gave it a cursory fold. As we started the long slog through the sand to the car he reached down and took my hand. The gesture seemed like big brother gesture. The drive home was more relaxed but just as quiet.

He walked me to my dorm room, said goodnight and left when I was safely inside.

I didn't see him again for another four years after that night.