Part 52
Maria looked at Michael with incredulity shining in her green eyes. From what she could tell, whatever had happened at home must have been bad for him to be in his current mood, but no way was she going to let him treat her like this! "You can't just call me and ask me to go out to the middle of nowhere with you and then threaten to steal my car just because you're pissed off about something. I suggest you start by telling me what the hell happened to put you in this mood; I'm not your personal punching bag and I won't be treated like one. I'm not here so you can just take your anger out on me." She rolled her eyes when he ignored her, glancing around when he turned down another street and after a few minutes pulled up in front of a small house. She rolled her eyes when he got out of the car and took the keys with him. As soon as he let himself in the front door she pulled her spare keys out of her purse and climbed over the gearshift to settle into the drivers' seat.
Michael locked the door behind him and ran back to the car, skidding to a halt when he realized the passengers' seat was empty. He leaned down to look inside when the engine suddenly came to life and he frowned when he saw Maria sitting behind the wheel.
"We're not going anywhere until you start talking," she said when he opened the door and dropped down into the passengers' seat. "You either tell me what's got you in such a bad mood or we'll sit here all day."
Michael stared down at the handheld GPS navigator in his left hand and forced his grip to relax to avoid crushing it. He knew she was right and he shouldn't be taking his bad mood out on her, but what was he supposed to say?
"I can drive back home just as easily as I drove out here, Michael."
He could see from her expression that she wasn't kidding, and if he didn't do something she was going to drop him off and go home. C'mon, Guerin, say something before she leaves! "I got into it with my mom," he blurted out after a heavy silence. "She's havin' a fit over us takin' this trip and when she took my keys I told her I was goin' even if I had to hitchhike."
Maria turned to look at him. "So you got into an argument with your mom and you're taking it out on me?" She shook her head. "Huh-uh, you don't get to act like that just because you're pissed at your mom. I didn't come all the way out here with the intention of going with you on this road trip just so you could have someone to take your anger out on."
Michael watched the fingers of her right hand as they drummed out an irritated rhythm on the steering wheel. He had no idea what to say to her but she continued while he was still thinking.
"And then you just take my keys and my car and you order me around?"
He had to find a way to calm her down before she worked herself up and they ended up in a shouting match, otherwise they were never going to make it to the ruins. It was becoming obvious that she had no intention of moving the car until she had said what she wanted to say or until he apologized. He didn't have all day to wait for her to get around to finish having her say and he sucked at apologies so he had to find a way to end her ranting.
"Because if that's the way you're gonna act every time you get pissed off about something…" Maria paused when he turned around and dragged his bag between the seats and placed it in his lap. "What're you doing?" she asked, watching him unzip it and push a notebook and a shirt out of his way.
Michael pulled out a bag of assorted candy bars, reaching inside to remove a handful of the small chocolates and offer them to her.
Okay, Maria thought, staring at his offering, as apologies went it wasn't the best one she had ever received, but somehow it was so… Michael. She reached out and plucked a couple of the candy bars from his hand and unwrapped one. "I'm gonna let it go," she said, shaking her head at him. "This time. Next time you get into an argument with your parents or anyone else, don't take it out on me, Michael," she warned. "Now, which way do I need to go?"
Michael pointed behind them. "You know where Highway 380 is?"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Catherine stood on the porch, her hands gripping the railing tightly as she watched the taillights disappear into the distance. Circumstances may have been different, but having to stand back, powerless, and having no choice but to let Michael go immediately dragged her mind back into the past and she could feel the emotions rise to the surface as if it had happened yesterday. She could easily remember the day he had been taken by Social Services; he had been with her less than eighteen hours but in that short amount of time he had already taken his place in her heart.
After his introduction to the bath it had taken her and John both to dry the boy off and wrestle him into a clean set of clothes. She had been exhausted by the time they were finished and she just shook her head when he followed John to the refrigerator. He had watched as John filled a small cup with apple juice before snapping the lid on, and Michael had eagerly accepted it when it was offered to him. He had mastered the use of a straw with no problem and had quickly discovered that blowing into the straw produced the most entertaining sounds. It hadn't taken long for him to tire and he had gone in search of his blanket and the teddy bear that were never far from his sight.
That morning she had watched Michael as he slept underneath the coffee table, his little body covered by the blanket River Dog had given him. She had tried to get him to sleep on the couch but had left him where he was after the third time he had gotten away from her and crawled under the table.
Catherine turned her head when she heard the knock on the front door and she could feel herself tense up. The rational part of her brain knew that they had to turn Michael over to the authorities, but the emotional part was screaming at her to take him and run. She looked up when a hand settled on her shoulder.
"It must be done this way."
She stared at her father-in-law and shook her head; she had forgotten that John's sister Skye had dropped the older man off when she had come by to pick Maggie up. "Why?"
"Because they will be able to do things that we wouldn't be able to do; he's gonna need a social security number and a birth certificate to – "
"You do know they're gonna put him in the orphanage, don't you?" She sighed and her gaze traced over the little boy's stubborn features again. "Do you know what it's like there? It'll scar him for life."
"Catherine, the boy is strong, and he will eventually move past this event. Imagine how much worse it would be if he were kept here long enough to begin to relax… what would happen if the authorities found out and took him at that point? This way you've got…" He had trailed off when his son entered the room with a police officer and a woman from Social Services.
"Catherine, Dad, this is Ms. Seaton and Officer Rojas; they're here for Michael."
"The child is able to speak?" Ms. Seaton asked, opening up the oversized leather-bound notebook she held. "I was under the impression he was mute."
John shook his head as he glanced at his wife. "I never said he was mute; we believe the capability to speak is there but – "
"I'm sure a professional will be better able to assess the child's capabilities. Was he able to answer any questions or did he only respond when you asked his name?"
Catherine's eyes narrowed as she watched the woman make notations in her notebook while John gave her the same detailed information he had given the night before over the phone. The woman had all the warmth of an iceberg, and she had the personality to match. Her dislike of the woman grew with each emotionless question and she was grinding her back teeth together in an effort to stay silent.
"Well, I think I have everything I need so we'll collect the child and – "
That had been the final straw. "The child," Catherine snapped, "has a name, and he's not some stray animal that you're here to collect. I'd like to know what you intend to do with Michael when you leave here."
"There's really no reason for you to concern yourself with that," Ms. Seaton said in what was probably meant to be a reassuring tone but fell short of being sincere.
Catherine met the woman's cold gaze as she stood to face her. "Well, I'm concerning myself so why don't you walk me through the process?"
"He'll be placed at the group home where he'll undergo testing to determine his mental, emotional, and physical limitations. He will remain under observation while the authorities attempt to locate any relatives. In the case that there are no relatives, or that the relatives found are unable to care for him, he will more than likely remain in the group home. The older a child is the harder it is to adopt them out." She glanced over her notes once more and shook her head. "Based on the information you've provided it's doubtful we would even find a family to foster him."
Catherine was well aware that the system was flawed and it allowed too many children to fall through the cracks, and with people like Ms. Seaton involved it wasn't going to improve. She could tell that the woman had already written him off and there wasn't a doubt in her mind that the emotionless woman had no intention of making Michael a priority or personally involving herself in his case.
She glanced over her shoulder when she heard movement and she watched Michael crawl out from under the coffee table.
"This is the child?"
His head had snapped up as soon as he heard the new voice and his expression had quickly become one of wariness. He searched the room and as soon as he spotted River Dog he had run to hide behind the man.
"Office Rojas, if you would collect the child so we can wrap this up, please."
Oscar Rojas had never cared for this part of his job but he knew there were others who could be assigned to work with Social Services, others who could care less about the children involved in these situations. He had crouched down so he wouldn't appear to be so intimidating and in just a matter of seconds he knew the little boy was going to run from him.
He pushed his hat back and leaned back on his heels when the little boy bolted through to the kitchen and scrambled under the dinner table. "Little fella's quick, isn't he?"
"Do you have children, Officer Rojas?"
He stood and smiled at Catherine Two Feathers. "Yes, ma'am, I've got three of 'em." He read the concern in the woman's eyes before he glanced back towards the kitchen. "I won't hurt him," he promised.
"I don't have all day, Officer Rojas," Ms. Seaton said impatiently.
Catherine almost smiled when the police officer rolled his eyes and nodded. She watched him crouch down once more; he tried to coax Michael out from his hiding place under the table and after a while he reached out to physically pull the little boy out. He jerked his arm back seconds later, staring at the teeth marks embedded in his flesh as the little boy escaped again.
His heart went out to the little guy when he hid behind the older man once again. He was clutching a teddy bear in his left arm and his right hand was fisted around a handful of the man's jeans. His dark gaze was defiant despite the fear and suspicion so obvious there, and Oscar knew right away that he wasn't going to deal well with the system.
"Maybe we could go with you," John suggested. "Michael doesn't care much for ridin' in cars but it might help if we're there to calm him down."
"That won't be necessary," Ms. Seaton spoke up. "This will go much smoother if we handle the separation here and now. I'm sure you'll agree – "
"No, Ms. Seaton, we don't agree with you," John interrupted. "Maybe you can just stand there and remain unaffected by Michael's situation, but we're not like that. Obviously you have no problem ignoring the fact that he has no idea what's happening to him and he's scared; you haven't even spoken to him or bothered to ask anything of a personal nature."
Catherine had nodded when John glanced at her before continuing. They had talked long into the night about their options, considering the adjustments they were going to have to make. Michael was going to need special care; he was going to have to be taught things that children half his age already knew, and there were his abilities to consider too.
"I don't see a problem if you folks wanna ride in with him."
Michael had been stressed by the recent events and he had refused to move away from River Dog. Catherine had wanted to take the little boy in her arms and tell him that everything was going to be okay but she knew he wasn't comfortable with too much physical contact so she settled for kneeling down in front of him and speaking softly as she held her hand out towards him.
He had stared at her outstretched hand, palm facing up, and his fingers had flexed around the handful of denim he was clutching like a lifeline. She could tell that he didn't understand her words as she talked to him, assuring him that they had no intention of leaving him with Social Services. He had responded to her tone, relaxing slightly, but he hadn't released his grip on River Dog's leg.
She hadn't been able to go with them because she had been scheduled to work and she had watched Michael as River Dog carried him out to the police car waiting in the driveway.
"Hey, you gonna be okay?" John asked, pulling her into his arms and massaging the nape of her neck.
"He's gonna be so lost there, John, and he's not used to being around people. He'll think he's been abandoned all over again; he isn't gonna understand – "
"Catherine, we've gotta trust my dad's instincts on this. While I'm there I'll find out who we need to talk to about getting custody or becoming guardians or foster parents… whatever they wanna call it, okay?"
She hadn't had any other choice but to agree at that point so she had nodded and stood on the porch, watching the car and its occupants until it was too far away to follow any longer.
"Catherine?"
John's concerned voice brought her out of her memories and she turned to look at him.
John knew from experience that he wasn't going to be able to tread carefully enough to avoid her temper. There was no way to get around it so he jumped in with both feet. "You all right?"
Catherine glared at him and it was clear from her expression that he had just uttered the stupidest question she had ever heard. "No, John, I'm not all right. You just sent our son off on this… this… quest, investigation… whatever the hell you wanna call it, knowing that they're in a relationship I don't approve of. I realize that it's entirely possible for them to sneak under our radar right here, but you don't just send two seventeen-year-olds off on an overnight trip when there's no supervision whatsoever. You might just as well have paid for some cheap motel room and given him a box of condoms."
John hurriedly looked away and bit the inside of his cheek. It wasn't funny, he reminded himself. It wasn't. He knew if she even suspected that he found her rant funny he would be paying for it for the next week so he did his best to keep it under control. She was still muttering about the stupidity of men in general, and him in particular, by the time he was certain he could face her without laughing.
"And how many times do I have to tell you that she doesn't know how to deal with him if it ends up like all the other times?"
"Cath, he's never talked to us in any detail about his previous trips; he comes home and stomps around the house for a few days before he lets it go and moves on to the next one. Obviously we know he's disappointed, angry, and hurt, but he buries it after a few days." He leaned against the railing and crossed his arms over his chest. "Maybe this trip will be like all the others; maybe it'll just be another big disappointment, and maybe when he falls he'll let her catch him. I'm just sayin' there's a bigger picture here, and maybe you're not seein' it."
"John…"
Her tone held a warning and he nodded as he straightened away from the railing. "Why don't I go make dinner since you're gonna be busy with the girls." He paused beside her and nudged her shoulder with hers. "I know I can't understand this from your point of view, but I do know where your mind is." He reached out to cradle her cheek, turning her head to meet his gaze as he shook his head. "It's not the same thing, honey."
Catherine frowned at his back as he went inside. And that is the problem with marrying your best friend, she thought with a scowl. "It's not the same thing," she muttered, repeating his parting words. Well, it sure felt the same.
It had seemed like forever before they had been given permission to take Michael home from the orphanage. As she had expected he had been traumatized by the nearly two-week stay among the adults and children, but as River Dog had predicted the little boy had eventually moved past those events.
Several different specialists had been brought in to assess the little boy and to decide if his condition was reversible; they had made their reports and the only thing they had agreed on was that he wasn't a good candidate to be placed in a foster situation and it was even less likely that he would ever be adoptable. Despite their warnings that Michael was most likely going to be mentally and emotionally handicapped by his abandonment she and John had gone ahead with their plan to find a way to bring the boy home to live with them.
They had met resistance at first because, despite the fact that Michael was considered to be un-adoptable, the authorities had been reluctant to place him with a Native American family. They had claimed that it was because they were concerned that the placement would only cause more harm, but they had run into racism before and they knew what it looked and sounded like.
Eventually, it had come to the director's attention that the only time Michael responded or showed interest in his surroundings was when the family came to visit and he started to leave his office and observe their interaction. After several visits he had made a phone call to Oscar Rojas, the police officer who had come to their house to pick Michael up and take him to the orphanage; the interview with the officer along with his observations of the family and the little boy had pushed him to make a decision that hadn't been popular at the time.
He had finally convinced those who were against the decision to send Michael home with the family that it was the best solution. The little boy responded to them, was happy to see them when they arrived, and once they were gone he quickly retreated into his shell and refused to interact with anyone.
The director had given them the news on their twelfth visit and they had signed the release forms that day. They had taken Michael home that afternoon and little by little he had started to relax and settle into life with his new family.
"Hey, Mom? Sierra's got a problem with the zipper on her dress." Maggie stepped out onto the porch, her expression questioning. "Everything okay?"
Catherine glanced over her shoulder, nodding when she saw her daughter's concerned expression. "Everything's fine, sweetie." She turned fully when the girl bit her bottom lip and fidgeted, a sure sign that she had something on her mind besides the dance. "Was there something else, Maggie?"
"Well," she hedged, "I overheard you and Michael last night and you seem to be pretty upset about him leaving with Maria, and I was just wondering why you have a problem with her?" She went on when her mother remained silent. "It's just that you seemed like you were okay with her when she first came around and they started hanging out, but now it's like you guys are fighting about her all the time."
Catherine sighed quietly as she debated the best way to answer the question.
"I thought maybe you've got the same problem I had with her, and if that's the case, I wanted to tell you something." Maggie moved closer to her mother, sitting down beside her to share her story. She didn't like seeing her mother and her brother at each other's throats; it was unsettling and she had to do something. Maybe her mother had the same problem that she herself had had, accepting that Michael had his own life, and that he had other people in his life that he cared about. Michael was so important to them, he was such an integral part of their lives and now they had to share him with another person, someone who wasn't in their family.
Maggie had accepted that change but apparently, her mother had not been able to, even though it was something that she claimed to want for Michael. "When Maria first found out about Michael, that he's, y'know, different, I behaved pretty badly towards both of them. I think she could tell that it was really bothering Michael because she cornered me right away and… well, she's not trying to come between us and Michael, Mom; I think she really understands how strong his bonds are with his family. But I think she also knows how important it is to him that he find the answers that he's looking for." Maggie paused for a moment. "She makes him happy, Mom; there's something different about him when she's around and maybe I can't define it, but I know it's a good thing." She shrugged. "Anyway, I just thought you should know that."
"Why don't we go see about Sierra's zipper, sweetie," Catherine said, hugging her daughter. "And, I'll think about what you've said." She watched the girl walk back into the house and sighed as she wondered when things had changed and she had started getting advice from her own daughter.
