Al Calavicci struggles with an impossible choice – liberty or loyalty.

BOTH OR NONE – Part Six

Al dove under the narrow metal bed and dragged out an old, battered carpetbag. He opened the cupboard and took out his extra underclothes and socks, and his one change of clothes, stuffing them into the bag. He opened the box at the foot of the bed and took out his jacket, the one Black Magic had bought him. Under it was a brown paper bag. He picked it up carefully, with both hands, and set it on the bed. He opened it and peered inside. There was an old, dog-eared book on top, a copy of "Tom Sawyer" that Momma had used to read him, before she started to get sad, and cry all the time, and start snapping impatiently at Trudy and giving her smacks when she was slow to listen. Al lifted out the book. Underneath it there were seven marbles, a heart-shaped copper pendant that had belonged to Poppa's momma, a matchbox with a shimmering green beetle pinned inside, a round, pearly cue ball, and a little leather frame. He took out the frame and looked at the photograph inside.

A little house sat over a bare, grassy lawn. In front of it, smiling enormously and waving to the camera, was Poppa, and Trudy and Al. Al looked at it, and for the first time since Poppa's death the sight didn't make him want to cry. Poppa was gone, but the dream of a family and a house was going to come true after all. Uncle Jack, Poppa's big brother, was taking him out of here. Uncle Jack was going to adopt him and Trudy, and they were going to be happy.

But now he had to hurry: Uncle Jack and Aunt Marion were finishing up the paperwork with Sister Agnes. They were going to take him home right now, even though it would take time to get through the adoption. He carefully put his treasures back into their bag and set the package gently in the carpetbag. His fingers lingered over the rosary on top of his cupboard, but he retracted his hand empty. He wasn't going to need that. He buttoned it closed over his meager possessions, slung the handles over his shoulder and ran for the door.

Uncle Jack was waiting for him by the front door. Al bounded up, happier than he had been for more than a year. His uncle ruffled the curls on the top of his head.

"Your aunt'll be along in a minute," he said. "Didn't think you'd be so quick."

"Oh, I'm quick," Al said, eager to please. "I'm the quickest! I'll make sure Trudy's quick too, Uncle Jack, I promise!"

Uncle Jack's expression changed almost imperceptibly. "Trudy?" he said.

"Yup!" Al enthused. "Sometimes she can be a little slow, she likes to dawdle, and you have to tell her things two or three times. It's not that she's stupid, though, she just sometimes has trouble understanding what you're saying. But she mostly always understands me, so anything you want to tell her you can tell me first and I'll explain it so she understands. She's a good helper too, she can wipe the dishes and everything, as long as you don't give her the good glass ones, because sometimes she doesn't pay attention and she drops them, but it isn't her fault, because I'm pretty distracting, and---"

"Woah, slow down, Al," Uncle Jack said, chuckling. "You're going to run out of air."

"Sorry," Al said. He threw his arms around the adult's chest. "Uncle Jack, I love you!"

"I love you too, son," Jack said, looking a little uncomfortable at the prospect. Then he frowned pensively. "But what's all this about Trudy?"

"Oh, she's a good girl, Uncle Jack. And she's awfully sweet. She loves orange gumdrops—can we get her some orange gumdrops?" Al asked. "Are we getting her today, or will we go tomorrow? I know it's a long drive to the hospital, but she'd be so happy if we got her today! I—"

Something in the adult's expression made him stop. "What is it, Uncle Jack?" Al whispered. "What's wrong? You said that Trudy was okay."

"She is, son, she is," Uncle Jack said. "She's just fine. But… well… we're not going to bring her home right away."

"We're not?" Al asked in a very small voice, his stomach dropping. "Why not?"

"Well… uh…" Jack seemed to be struggling to find words. Al backed away a little, staring at him. "You see, Al, we need to see how it works out with you first and… er…"

Al wanted to cry. Uncle Jack didn't want to take Trudy right away because he was scared Al wouldn't be good. Al knew he hadn't been very good this last year, but it hadn't really been his fault. He'd had to run away, he'd been so unhappy, and Magic had found him and taken care of him, so it had been all right. And the other things… they just couldn't! They couldn't leave Trudy in the institution because of him!

"I'll be good, Uncle Jack!" he said desperately. "I'll be good! I'll never try to run away, I'll study hard at school, I'll make my bed every morning and keep my shoes shined up and I'll help you at the garage. I'll even help Aunt Marion with the laundry and stuff if you want me to. I'll do anything you want, just please don't leave Trudy in that place because of me!"

Jack reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. Al could see sadness in his eyes, and it frightened him. "Not because of you, son. It's just that Marion and I have never had any children around the place, and we have to see how it works out. You understand. But maybe, after a while, maybe we might be able to go and get Trudy out of the---"

"Absolutely not!" a domineering voice said. Aunt Marion had come around the corner, with Sister Agnes behind her. The blond woman turned on her husband. "We discussed this, we had an agreement, and I'm not going to give you any chance to back out of it! You want to take in your dead brother's criminal little son, that's your business. God knows it would be good to have a boy around the place. But I am not going to have that moon-faced horror in my house."

Jack cast a pleading look at his wife. "Marion, the boy—"

"No! You are going to be truthful, and you are going to be firm, just like you promised," Marion said. "Tell him!"

Jack glanced at Al, who was watching with wide-eyed confusion and growing horror, then back at his unyielding wife. He sighed heavily. "Aw, Mary…"

"Tell him!" she repeated.

Al watched Uncle Jack turn. He put his hand back on the bony little shoulder. "Son," he said; "Trudy isn't well. She's not like other children, you know that."

"She's not sick," Al said reflexively. "Just… just a little different."

"Different," Jack said. "That's just it, son, she's different. She's happier with people like her, with her own kind."

"I'm her brother," Al said. "I'm her kind. She's happiest with me."

"No, son. She's better off in the hospital where there are nurses to take care of her," Jack said softly.

"Oh, no, Uncle Jack, you're wrong!" Al said earnestly. If Uncle Jack understood he was wrong, maybe he'd change his mind. "She's not happy there, it isn't better for her. Trudy's better off with her family. She can live with us, we'll be a family. A real family," he repeated wistfully. It was what he wanted more than anything else in the world.

Uncle Jack shook his head. "Al, your aunt and I can't take care of her. You have to understand that."

"I'll take care of her!" Al protested. "I can take good care of her! I took care of her when Poppa was sick, I took care of her and Poppa!"

"There is no room in the house for another child," Aunt Marion said. "Now stop this nonsense and let's go."

"She can have my bed!" Al said hastily. "I'll sleep on the floor, I don't mind that! Lots of times me and Magic camped out in pool halls and clubs; I don't mind sleeping on the floor! Trudy won't be any trouble, I'll look after her!"

"Jack," Aunt Marion said warningly. The reference to that Negro the boy had run away with made her uncomfortable. Such things simply weren't done, and she wondered what she was getting herself in to.

Uncle Jack sighed heavily. "Al, we can't take Trudy. I'm sorry, I know that's hard for you. But she needs to stay in the hospital."

"No!" Al cried. "No! She doesn't want to be in that old hospital, she wants a family and a house and a yard to play in! She wants to live with us, Uncle Max, with you and me and Aunt Marion!"

Jack scratched the back of his neck. "Aw, son, it's not as if she really knows the difference…"

Al felt the anger brimming up in his heart. He hated it when people talked like Trudy wasn't a person; when they acted like she didn't have feelings just because she wasn't so quick to understand things.

"She does, she does!" he shouted. "She does too know the difference! Just because she's a little bit retarded doesn't mean she doesn't want a family! And it's not her fault she's retarded, it isn't her fault! It isn't!" He stamped his foot. "You can't leave Trudy in that crummy hospital, you can't! She needs a family! She needs me! I'm her brother! She needs me!"

Suddenly Aunt Marion seized his shoulders and shook him. The shouts died on his lips and he stared at her in shock. Aunt Marion had never touched him before. She glared into his eyes with a look that was much more terrible than any expression he had ever seen before.

"You listen to me, Albert Calavicci," she said sternly. "We're going to have none of these tantrums. You are almost twelve years old, and you are going to behave like it. Now calm down and apologize to your uncle for shouting at him."

Al started to shake. The fit of choler had passed, and now he was frightened by his own loss of control. "I'm sorry for shouting, Uncle Jack," he said meekly.

Jack smiled. "It's all right, son. No harm done. Now what do you say we get in the car, and we'll stop for sodas before we head out of town?"

"What about Trudy?" Al asked.

Aunt Marion rolled her eyes heavenwards. "I think he might be the one who's retarded," she muttered. She put her hands on her hips. "Albert," she said sternly. "We can't take your sister, she will be better off in the hospital, and that is where she is going to stay. You are welcome in our house as long as you behave yourself, but Trudy is staying in the hospital."

"Forever?" Al whispered, feeling a horrible pain in his chest.

"Yes." The look in her eyes said there would be no arguing.

Al looked imploringly at Uncle Max, but the man looked away ashamedly.

"Now," Aunt Marion said; "come along. If you're going to be our new son we'll have to get you some decent clothes. We'll see about that after we get the sodas." She held out her hand for Al to take.

He stood very still, the blood pounding in his ears. He wanted a family. He wanted a home. He wanted new clothes, and a bed of his own, he wanted to go to school like the children with mothers and fathers, not to live at school. He wanted a house, a yard that didn't have walls around it, and a car to ride in. But Trudy wanted all those things too, just as much as he did.

Slowly, painfully, he shook his head. "No," he said.

"What?" Aunt Marion said.

"No," Al repeated. "Trudy and me, we're family. You gotta take both or none. You don't want Trudy, you don't really want me, neither."

"You mean you would rather stay here than live with us?" Marion asked.

"I got to stick with Trudy," Al said. "I'm her brother. She stays in the hospital, I stay here."

Jack shook his head. "Son, you don't mean that. You and me are family too. Your pop was my kid brother!"

"Trudy's my sister, and I'm not going with you if you won't take her, too," Al said.

"You stupid little boy, what good are you doing her in here?" Marion demanded.

"I can't be in a family without Trudy."

"You can't seriously mean you don't want to be adopted!" Marion said. "Just because your retarded little sister---"

Al couldn't stand it any more. He stamped his foot. "Don't you say that! Don't you call Trudy retarded!" he bellowed, forgetting in his rage that he had used the same word himself minutes ago. "You leave her alone! I hate you! I hate you!"

With a sob of desolation and inexpressible rage, he ran away, down the corridor and as far away from the hateful grown-ups as he could.

"Well, that was a lucky escape," Marion said indignantly as the boy disappeared from view. "That boy will come to a bad end."

"Lucky escape," Jack echoed sadly. His wife was probably right.