Ten years ago
The yellow school bus groaned to a stop. The vehicle had seen better days. The paint was faded from years of baking under the hot California sun and its rivets and bolts wept rusty stains that streaked across its body. A few letters on the side of the bus had peeled off, leaving the remaining to read VACAVILL UNIFIE SC OOL DISTRICT. The district hadn't seemed interested in repainting the busses that ferried children of the lower-income areas.
The bus doors hissed open and a gaggle of children scrambled off, shrieking and tumbling into the dusty summer heat, ready to begin their long-awaited vacation. The last child, a tiny brunette, leaped away from the steps just as the doors closed, and trailed behind the rest of the group trying to maintain a distance.
A ruddy-faced, red-head boy swung his arms in the air, mockingly, and in a falsetto voice shrieked, "Oh, Mister Rodriguez, I believe the atomic weight of men-dul-ee-vium is 258!" He glanced behind him to see if the girl had heard him.
His friend, an equally stocky boy with a backwards baseball cap, giggled hysterically at the imitation. "Oh, Mister Rodriguez, you're so-o-o-o-o dreamy! Can I kiss you?" He made smoochy noises at his friend and cackled.
The girl pretended to not hear them and hitched her backpack tighter on her shoulders as she hurried down her route on the sidewalk. Just because she liked to spend her lunch break working on science homework with her teacher didn't mean she was in love with him.
"Ignore them," she whispered to herself. "Don't do anything, don't say anything. Just. Ignore. Them."
"Hey, Rey!" The boy with the cap appeared behind her and tugged so viciously at one of her buns, her head jerked backward.
"Quit it, Mikey!" Rey snapped, shrugging him away and quickening her pace as her loosened hair flopped in her face. She was growing nervous as the rest of the kids broke off the route to head in other directions toward their respective homes and she would soon be alone with her bullies.
"Are you gonna miss your boyyyyyfriend this summer?"
Rey stared stonily ahead, determined on putting on foot in front of the other and getting to her auntie's house without incident.
"Hey, Rey! Dom's talking to you, don't ignore him," Mikey yelled, chucking a rock toward her. She sensed it hurtling toward her without even looking. It easily missed her and rolled to a stop under a chain-link fence.
"Yeah, Rey, don't be such a bitch," the red-headed Dom huffed, feeling empowered by his choice of call-out.
Rey tensed as their footsteps came closer and faster. Gripping her backpack's straps tighter, she also hastened her speed as quickly as she could without giving the appearance of running away in fear. She rounded the next corner and realized she had entered a quiet, tree-lined cul-de-sac.
A pair of hands shoved her, hard, from behind. She stumbled and caught her balance by hitting a wooden fence with her outstretched palms and smashing her face on a rough board. She whirled around and Dom and Mikey smirked at her, closing in.
"Leave me alone," she said evenly, hoping her voice wasn't trembling. A strange fury of emotions whipped up inside of her, tingling her extremities and giving her the feeling that she was on the precipice of a cliff overlooking a very, very long drop. Her legs felt like they'd explode if she didn't take off running that very second, but an equally powerful force kept her rooted in place, readying to fight.
"Or whatcha gonna do? Call for help? See if your boyfriend will come rescue you?" Dom grinned widely, showing his crooked teeth and the missing bottom one he had lost last week in a schoolyard brawl. "Get her, Mikey!"
Rey was usually quick to react but Mikey was bigger and faster. He grabbed Rey from behind, locking her under her arms and crushing her backpack between them, surely smashing her intricate string art she had intended to give to her auntie. But that was the lesser concern right now, as she realized Dom was coming toward her with a very strange and disarming look on his face.
"Maybe you need to know what it's like to kiss a real man," Dom decided, raking his fingers through his fiery locks. His thick tongue shot out, moistening his lips as he readying to engage his prey.
Oh, no. Oh, GROSS! Rey realized his true intention and shrieked out in horror but Mikey stretched a hand up to cover her mouth. Desperate, Rey wriggled around in Mikey's grasp but his grip only tightened. The cootie-festering bully was almost on her and his eyes locked on hers. Rey glanced up, saw a great limb of a tree hanging above, heavy with branches and leaves, and blasted her focus toward it. There was a great crackling noise and both boys looked up and screamed out in unison.
Rey took advantage of the distraction and pushed away from both boys just as the tree limb dropped right between them, narrowly missing their heads, but not without whipping them on its way down and knocking them to the ground.
"What the hell!" Dom screamed, struggling his way out of the canopy of branches that covered him. His head popped out like a gopher, leaves stuck every which way and his face scratched and burning the same color of his hair. "What did you do?!"
Rey stammered and no words came out. She glanced up at the tree where the limb was evenly cleaved and smooth. The boys followed her gaze then back at her, shocked and horrified.
"She's a witch!" Mikey accused, clambering out from the leafy prison and making a start for Rey.
Something inside of Rey rose in urgency and commanded her, run! And so, she did. She ran and ran, faster than she ever had before in her life, and did not stop running until she had made it to her auntie's house, up the stairs, and into her bedroom, where she slid under her bed, muffling her screams into her pillow.
###
Rey wasn't sure how long she laid there, absolutely exhausted and drained. She replayed the scene over in her mind and was absolutely certain that she was going to be in big trouble. Any moment now, she was certain a police officer would come to get her and take her away to prison.
"Rey?" a quiet voice called up from downstairs. Her aunt. "Rey, come down for dinner, please."
Rey poked her head out from under the bed. "I'm not hungry!" she yelled. In truth, she was, but she was also scared to leave the sanctity of her room.
"Rey, I'm not in a mood to argue. Come down, please!"
She paused. "Is it safe?"
"What? Of course, it's safe. It's spaghetti and meatballs."
That's not exactly what Rey meant, but her stomach growled at the mention of her favorite dish. "Coming!" She shimmied out from her hiding spot, creaked open her door and cast a wary glance around in case anyone was hiding and readying to arrest her, then thundered down the stairs to the kitchen where Auntie was shredding cheese over their bowls.
"What were you doing up there so long?" she asked Rey. She sat down in the chair opposite of her niece and looked more tired than usual.
Rey shrugged and shoved an entire meatball in her mouth. "Nuh-in."
"How was your last day of school?"
A shrug, again. "Okay."
"Did anything interesting happen?"
Rey scowled a bit, wondering what was with the interrogation and looked back down at her bowl. "No."
Her aunt twirled some spaghetti on her fork and contemplated it without putting it in her mouth. It was if she was too tired to even lift her hand. "I heard a couple of your classmates were almost hurt by a falling tree on their way home. Did you see it?"
"No."
The older woman's eyes flickered toward Rey for a moment then back down. "I see. Well, whatever happened, I'm glad you weren't around to get hurt."
Rey pushed a meatball around her tiny mountain of spaghetti noodles and felt very guilty for some reason. She wanted to confess, so badly, about the funny feelings she's been having and how lately, she's been able to do things, things that normal people aren't supposed to be able to do. She loved and trusted her aunt, and she was the only family she had left. But why couldn't Rey summon the courage to tell her?
Maybe now was the time. She was nearly ten years old, practically an adult. She decided to act like one. Rey cleared her throat. "Auntie, I—" She looked up and stopped. "Auntie, you have spaghetti sauce on your nose."
Her aunt cocked her head slowly to the side, not fully registering what Rey had just said. Almost mechanically, she raised a finger under her nose and swiped. A big red blob clung to her fingertip and she stared at it, unmoving.
Something was very wrong. Rey could feel a fluttering, panicked sensation and it filled her up with anxiety. "Auntie?!" Rey pushed away from the table and rushed to her aunt's side. She was wobbly, trying to stay upright, and blood began to trickle out of her nose and ears.
"Rey-" was all she could choke out before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed onto the linoleum.
There was a funny feeling that overwhelmed Rey. It was like a giant ocean wave crashed over her and knocked her over, sucking her lungs dry of any breath and filling her ears with nothing but the sound of a thick and heavy pulsing. It was the same feeling she had earlier with the bullies, but it was a thousand times more powerful and terrible. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move, she was tumbling, head over feet, as the wave recklessly and carelessly drowned her.
Move. Move! That voice, again, that compulsion to awaken. There was a thunderclap in her head and Rey found herself back in reality. She wanted to stop and scream and throw up and go hide under her bed but she needed to do something. She raced out of the house and to her neighbors, the Grants. Mr. Grant was a retired firefighter. He would know what to do.
Rey balled her hands into fists and pounded on their front door, not caring if the whole neighborhood heard. "Mr. Grant! Mrs. Grant! Help! Help!" In seconds, the door flung open.
"Mr. Grant! It's my aunt!" Rey cried out, unable to formulate any other words. She didn't wait for his response, and she tore off back to her house.
"Honey? What's wrong?" Mrs. Grant called from the living room.
"Call 911!" he yelled out, rediscovering his youthful nimbleness as he leaped off of his porch and took off after Rey.
###
The lady from the state agency was nice, but she wasn't like Mrs. Grant. She also wasn't like Auntie. She looked at Rey like she was a sad little thing, all alone in the world – and even though it was true, Rey hated the way she talked to her, like she was dumb or broken. She had brought Rey a stuffed animal, a funny little creature that looked like a puffin. That was one thing of which Rey was willing to negotiate her feelings toward the strange woman. The toy hadn't left her arms since Jane from the State had arrived.
"Are you hungry, Rey?" Jane asked from her crouched position on the floor. Rey had taken refuge under the row of chairs in the hospital waiting room, cuddling the puffin and shrouded in a blanket that Jane had asked for from a nurse.
Rey shook her head. Nothing sounded appetizing. She still could taste the faint flavor of the spaghetti and meatballs and it made her stomach turn.
"Some water, maybe? You really should have something to drink." Jane's brows knitted in concern. She had been sitting with Rey ever Mr. Grant took the girl and followed the ambulance some hours ago, and Rey hadn't even gone to the bathroom.
"I'll go get her something," Mr. Grant volunteered. "Rey, you want a soda? Water? Juice?" The girl didn't answer. "Hmm, well if you don't have any preference, maybe I'll get you a big ol' mug of black coffee!"
"Noo," came her quiet retort. "Juice, please."
"Atta girl," Mr. Grant smiled, though his eyes were full of worry. "I'll be right back." He headed toward the vending machines down the hall, leaving Rey alone with Jane.
"Rey, we're going to have to go soon," Jane said, laying on the floor and resting her chin on top of her hands. "We need to get you a bag packed so you can go stay with the Johnsons."
Rey's nose wrinkled. "Who are they?"
"They're a really nice couple," Jane reassured her. "They take in children who need a home for a while."
"But I have a home," Rey said, unhappily.
Jane frowned. "Rey, we talked about it. We don't know how long your aunt is going to be in the hospital. And we, um, we can't find any other relatives that you can stay with."
"Can't I stay with Mr. and Mrs. Grant?" Rey asked, pitifully. She didn't like the idea of being so far from home. Besides, whenever Mrs. Grant babysat Rey, she'd let the girl assemble the most insane ice cream sundaes for dinner.
"I'm sorry, sweetie, but we can't," Jane said. "The law says you have to go with a family that has taken our special classes and has a license. Mr. and Mrs. Grant aren't relatives and they don't have the license, so the law won't let me take you to their house."
Rey stiffened at the thought of a police officer coming to arrest her for sneaking into Mr. and Mrs. Grant's house. "How long do I have to be there? At the Johnsons?" She was miserable at the thought. Her auntie had promised that they were going to drive down to Disneyland next month; she had taken extra shifts at work just to save up the money.
"That I don't know, either," Jane said. "I'm sorry, I wish I had all the answers for you."
Mr. Grant returned, groaning quietly as his old knees creaked. He knelt down next to Jane and rolled a bottle of orange juice under the chair. "Here you go, champ. You wanna go say good night to auntie before we go?"
Rey nodded and accepted his hand as he helped her out from under her hiding spot.
"We'll be right back," Mr. Grant told Jane, indicating that she ought to stay behind.
Rey clutched her juice and stuffed animal close to her chest as Mr. Grant guided her toward the intensive care unit, hitting a button that buzzed and then opened up the great, big sweeping doors to the isolated area. "Now, Rey, it's gonna be a little scary in there, okay? Your aunt's not feeling so good, so they have lots of machines and things hooked up to her."
Rey was half-listening. She was taking in, with wide and frightened eyes, the spectacle of the ICU. The first room closest to the entrance had a family gathered around a bed, sobbing, but she couldn't see who was laying in it. Another room had loud, wheezy noises coming from it – there was a man alone and unconscious, his broken legs were raised in traction and a machine hissed rhythmically as it breathed for him. And then came the looks, such sad and pathetic glances from the staff milling around the nurses' station. They looked over at Rey with pained faces that guarded some awful knowledge.
"—so she may not be able to talk, okay?" Mr. Grant finished. "Rey? Are you hearing me?"
Rey nodded, even though she really wasn't.
Mr. Grant set his mouth in a frown and stopped in front of a darkened room. "Put your stuff on the chair here and clean your hands," he instructed, demonstrating the hand sanitizer machine mounted outside the door. Rey obeyed, scrubbing her hands vigorously with the smelly, cold cleanser.
"Em?" Mr. Grant called quietly, pushing back the curtain around the bed. "Emma, it's me, Jarvis. I'm here with Rey."
Rey's heart thudded. There were many scary sounds, like a steady beeping, a mechanical gasping, and other awful noises that made her want to turn around and run away. But she wanted to see her, wanted to make sure Auntie was okay.
"Come on, sweetie, let her hear your voice," Mr. Grant said, gently, not looking at Rey, but at Emma. He wiggled his fingers behind him and Rey grasped them with both hands, and he drew her closer.
"Emma, I have Rey here. She's come to say hello." There was a strangle in his voice, as if he was trying really hard not to cry. "Rey, would you like to say hi?"
Rey nodded again, trying to be strong. She crept closer to the bed, making sure to not knock into any of the many machines that were clustered close.
Her beloved aunt looked so tiny and fragile. Her eyes were nearly closed with a line of goopy jelly smeared across and under her lids. Wires and cables snaked out from under her flimsy hospital gown, leading to a gaggle of machines that read off numbers and vitals and other assessments. Her mouth was agape like a fish, with a ribbed plastic tube fitted in place which inhaled and exhaled on her behalf. At least someone had the kindness to brush her hair; her greying black braid had been neatly rearranged and laid across the pillow. The blood around her nose had been cleaned, too. She looked quite peaceful, as if she were sleeping and not drugged up and tethered to live-saving machinery.
A great sadness swelled in Rey's heart. "Auntie?" she whimpered. "Auntie, it's me. It's Rey." She grabbed her aunt's hand and clutched it tightly; it was limp and unresponsive. "Auntie, please wake up. I want to go home with you. You said we would get to go to Disneyland. I want to ride the tea cups with you. And take pictures. And-and you said we could have funnel cakes together." Now, she was just rambling. "And we don't have to get powdered sugar on them because I know you don't like powdered sugar 'cause it explodes everywhere if you sneeze. Auntie, you have to wake up, because you made me a promise." The tears were falling freely now, and Rey pressed her aunt's hand to her cheek, feeling her warmth and savoring her smell. She imagined her aunt, smiling and healthy. "I made you some art that I forgot to give you when I got home today. I'll put it out for you on your bed so it's there when you're better." She pictured Aunt Emma, radiant and glowing.
One machine started to beep more rapidly. Rey was certain she felt her aunt's hand twitch, ever so slightly. The curtain rattled behind them and a shift nurse appeared.
"Sorry for the intrusion," he said. "I need to note her vitals."
"Come along, Rey," Mr. Grant said. "Let's get your stuff to take for your sleepover at the Johnsons, okay?"
But Rey wasn't ready. She clung to her aunt's arm. The pulsing tone increased. "No, no, she hasn't woken up yet. I need to be here when she does. She's gonna be scared if she wakes up and she's all alone!"
Mr. Grant gently unraveled Rey's grip on Emma's arm. "Rey, honey, we have to go. Your aunt needs her rest."
"I don't want to leave her," Rey cried. "I want to stay here with her."
"Sweetie, you can't. We have to go now. I'll bring you back soon to visit her, okay? I promise." He scooped Rey up in his arms. "Let's give the doctors and nurses the room they need."
Rey wept, loudly and unashamedly, soaking Mr. Grant's shirt with her tears. She did not stop crying on the ride home, nor while she packed her little suitcase, nor when Jane from the State tried to calm her down, nor on the drive to the temporary foster home.
By the time she and Jane arrived at the doorstep of the Johnsons, it was quite late at night and Rey was drained of tears. Sniffling what remained, she stood miserably and held Jane's hand as the woman gently rapped on the door.
Almost immediately, the door opened and a stern-faced woman appeared, wrapped up in a silky bathrobe. Rey immediately recoiled but Jane pulled her close.
"Mrs. Johnson, thank you so much for taking our call so late. Rey's aunt is quite sick—" she mouthed something wordlessly "—and we're happy you can take her in."
"Of course." The woman nodded curtly and widened the door. "Won't you come in? And take off your shoes, please."
Jane and Rey entered, shimmying out of their shoes, and followed Mrs. Johnson to the living room. Rey was impressed at how clean and tidy and nice everything was – her auntie, while she owned her small home, wasn't well-off and many of their belongings were second- or third-hand. Everything looked brand new and shiny in the Johnson home.
"Rey, Mrs. Johnson and I need to go over some paperwork," Jane said while pulling a thick manila folder out of her bag. "So, it'll be a few minutes."
"Rey, would you like some cookies?" Mrs. Johnson said. "I baked them earlier. They're chocolate chip."
The faint smell of cookies awakened Rey's senses a bit. "Yes, please." Maybe this Mrs. Johnson wasn't so bad.
The woman offered a small smile and guided Rey to the kitchen where she set out a couple of cookies and a tall glass of milk. Without saying much else, Mrs. Johnson turned on a small television in the corner and went back to talk to Jane.
Rey tried to distract herself by the tasty treats and the late-night television show that played, but she couldn't help but strain her ears to listen to any snippets of the women's conversation.
"—looks bad—not sure – perhaps had it for a while."
"—family?"
"No—orphan, maybe."
"What happened?"
"Don't know – accident, I read but there's—"
"What's your name?"
Rey gasped and nearly fell from her chair. Peeking around the doorway on the other side of the kitchen was a short girl, her dark hair cut short and into bangs, framing her chubby cheeks.
"Um, I'm Rey." She kept her voice to a whisper, still trying to eavesdrop.
"Are you moving in?"
"No," she said, firmly. "I mean, not right now. Just until my aunt gets better."
"Oh." The girl looked a little sad. "I wanted to have another sister. I used to have one. But she's dead. Can I have a bite? Mrs. Johnson said I had enough at dinner."
"Sure." Rey picked up her last cookie and snapped it in half, holding it out to the girl, who giggled mischievously at the joy of having a forbidden cookie.
"I'm Rose, by the way," the girl said, holding out her free hand for a shake. "I'm eight years old."
"Hi, Rose," Rey said, accepting that she wasn't going to be able to eavesdrop any longer. "I'm ten. Almost ten, that is."
"Neat!" Rose's eyes lit up. "Double digits, cool!"
Rey cracked a half-smile. "Yeah, I guess so. How long have you been here?" It was pretty obvious that Rose wasn't Mrs. Johnson's biological child, since Rose had pale, creamy skin and dark, angular eyes and Mrs. Johnson was freckled and auburn-haired with wide-set green eyes.
"Um, about six months."
"Is it nice here?"
Rose shrugged. "Yeah, it's fine. Mr. Johnson plays outside with me. And Mrs. Johnson is a really, really good cook! C'mon, lemme show you my room! I mean, our room. There's bunk beds!"
"Rose, are you bothering our guest?" Mrs. Johnson shuffled in, tightening the sash around her robe. "Rey's had a very long day."
"I could tell! That's why I was gonna show her the bedroom."
"Let her say goodbye, okay? Rey, Jane's about to leave." She gestured for Rey to come with her and together they went to the foyer where Jane was struggling to zip up her ankle boots.
"Alright, Rey, I'll come see you in about a week to check in on you, okay?" Jane said, squeezing Rey in a comforting but brief hug. "Be good to the Johnsons."
Rey's stomach clenched. "A week? You mean, I don't get to go home soon?"
Jane and Mrs. Johnson exchanged that look that only adults can do.
"Well, I don't know," admitted Jane. "Maybe sooner, maybe longer. We just don't really know right now."
"Why don't you know?" Rey's eyes brimmed with tears. "I want to go home and be with my auntie."
"Dear," Mrs. Johnson said, turning Rey around and holding her firmly by the shoulders. "You're going to be with us for a while. I know it isn't fair. It doesn't feel right. I'm a stranger to you and I know that is scary. But you must trust us that we will take care of you. I know I am not your auntie, but I will be the best I can for you. I am here for you. We all are."
"Okay," was all Rey could whisper. She was overwhelmed with the emotions of the last day and the kindness that had been demonstrated to her, but still, she craved her beloved aunt. Her head ached from crying so much already, she couldn't muster a single tear. "Thank you," she tacked on, remembering her manners.
"Rose, show Rey your room and get her settled in, please?" Mrs. Johnson smiled.
"C'mon, sis!" Rose giggled, grabbing Rey's suitcase and thumping up the stairs.
"Good night, Rey," Jane said. Her mouth smiled kindly but her eyes remained sad.
Rey ran up the stairs after Rose and followed her to the large bedroom that housed two bunk beds and an unimaginable number of toys. Her worries, temporarily forgotten, dissolved into a late-night play session with her new-found friend amidst an army of Barbies and Lego. Finally, she collapsed into a deep slumber and enjoyed the last peaceful sleep before the next morning when her world turned for the worst.