Title: Elsewhere

Summary: It's an emotional rollercoaster, taking care of three little boys. Especially when they're not yours, and you don't know how long they're staying.

---------------------

Chapter Eight

"When is he getting here?" Kevin perched in a chair next to the front window, restless and impatient.

"A little while." Troy skimmed through the comics section of the newspaper. "I can draw better than this," he told Zac. "I bet you can to."

Zac looked up from the piece of paper he was scribbling on. His eyes were solemn. "I can."

"A little while is what you said a long time ago," Kevin told Troy. "Not to bother you or anything, but how long do you mean when you say a little while?"

Troy didn't look up. "Within a year."

"Now, I know that's a lie." Kevin folded his arms across his chest. "How long, really?"

"Within a half an hour," Troy told him. "Does that satiate your curiosity?"

"What does that mean?" Kevin asked.

"Never mind." Troy stretched. "It's hard to wait, huh?"

"Uh huh." Kevin rested his chin on his forearm. "Time goes by so slow. . ."

"Last year I was two," Zac added, incongruously. "Only two. And then I had my birthday, and Kevin and Andy said 'happy birthday!' And I said 'oh, it's my birthday?' and they said 'yeah,' and I was three."

"When was that?" Troy asked him.

"About forty-eleven years ago," Zac told him, seriously.

"Oh, okay." Troy winked at Kevin. "Forty-eleven."

"It was forty eleven years ago!" Zac's lower lip went out. "Forty six, forty-two, forty-nine, forty-eleven. Forty eleven!"

"Is that the way it works?" Troy asked.

Again, Zac was forced to shake his head at Troy's ignorance. "Yes."

"Okay," Troy nodded. "I'll remember that now."

"You better, or you'll always miss Sesame Street," Zac told him. "It comes on everyday, and if you can't tell time, you might miss it."

"That would be tragic," Troy agreed. "I'd cry."

"You shouldn't cry," Zac scoffed. "You're a great big old man. Old mans don't cry."

"This old man cries if he misses Sesame Street," Troy grinned.

"Old mans don't watch Sesame Street, either," Zac informed him.

"Is that them?" Kevin peered off down the street, squinting. "I think that's them."

"Is it a little green car?" Troy asked him.

"Uh huh," Kevin agreed.

"Then it's them all right," Troy concurred.

"Hurry up!" Kevin told the car. "We've been waiting all day!"

"Yeah, car!" Troy piped. "We can't wait even forty eleven more seconds."

"No we can't," Zac put down his pen and picked up a pencil. "Not even forty twenty nine more seconds."

"Not even forty-twenty nine," Troy agreed.

"Let's go outside and see them," Zac suggested. This sounded like a good idea, and so they did.

Sharpay Bolton, Kevin thought, was a very hugging person. She certainly held on to Troy a long time when she first walked in the door, and every time you turned around, it seemed she was putting her arms around you again. He thought, out of loyalty to his mother, that maybe he shouldn't like it, but he kind of did. He smiled. Andy was nestled in blankets on the couch, somewhere between asleep and awake. Sharpay had gone upstairs and fallen asleep, and Zac had climbed into bed next to her. Then, Troy had gone looking for Zac, and, finding him with Sharpay, had decided to take a nap himself. Kevin figured that he was the only person in this whole house who was awake. It gave him time to think. He had to figure out what to do next. He wished he knew what was going to happen next. . .

"Kev? Hey, Kevin?" Andy opened his eyes suddenly, scanning the room until he found his older brother. "What happened while I was gone?"

Kevin looked up "Oh, hi. "I didn't know you were awake."

"I was resting." Andy played with the edge of the blanket. "In the hospital, I got a lot of shots, and they hurt."

"Is that what all the Band-Aids are from?" Kevin asked him. He'd noticed that his brother seemed to be sporting a lot of Superman bandages.

"Uh huh. But this was from an IV. . ." Andy pointed to a piece of gauze taped to his forearm. "A needle was stuck in my arm."

"Ouch." Kevin swallowed. He didn't want to think about people hurting his brother, even if they were trying to help him.

"But I was brave," Andy assured him. "Sharpay said I was very brave."

"Yeah, I knew you would be," Kevin agreed.

"I know," Andy smiled. "I thought you would think I was brave. This one kid, he was older than you, and he cried all the time." His eyes darkened. "And he was mean."

"What was his name?" Kevin asked.

"Allen the Butthead." Andy's lower lip went out. "I hated him."

"You shouldn't hate people." Kevin said mildly. "What did he do?"

"You know what he said?" Andy burst out. "He said that mommy left because. . . because she didn't love us."

Kevin squeezed his eyes shut. "Andy, that's not true. That's not true at all."

"Why does she leave, Kevin?" Andy asked, his eyes brimming with tears. "I think she does hate us."

"No. . . I think she just doesn't love me," Kevin told him. "Because she says I'm too much like he was. Our father. She says I'm too much like him, but she loves you and Zac, Andy, she really does."

"But sometimes I'm bad," Andy said. "Sometimes I don't behave."

"That's not your fault," Kevin told him. "You're just a little kid. If it was anyone's fault, it was my fault."

"It was my fault," Andy contested. "It was both our faults, maybe."

"No, my fault," Kevin sighed.

"My fault!" Andy insisted.

"Anyway, we can't change it," Kevin told him. "We can't depend on her. We can only depend on each other."

"I think we can depend on Troy and Sharpay," Andy suggested.

Kevin shook his head. "I really don't know. It's probably better not to." He swallowed. "Do you think we should?"

Andy coughed, squirming into a more comfortable position. "I think they're nice," he said. "Kev, maybe it would be better if we did, because I don't know as much as you do."

"Well, you're only five," Kevin pointed out.

"Yeah, but what if anything ever happened to you?" Andy asked. "What would happen if you got sick?"

"Nothing's going to happen to me," Kevin assured him. "I promise."

"Well, what if something did?" Andy persisted. "We can't just trust each other."

"We can try," Kevin told him.

"No we can't." Andy's lower lip went out. "You aren't a grown-up, Kevin. You don't know everything."

"Andy. . ." Kevin chewed on a fingernail. "Andy. . . I don't know everything, but. . ."

"That's right." Andy scowled. "You only know a little bit."

"Yeah, but I do know that grown-ups split you up and put you into foster care," Kevin defended. "Do you want that to happen?"

Andy's eyes grew watery. "I just want to know when Mommy's coming back. And nobody tells me anything. And she's in jail and she hates us, and now she's going to hate us even more."

"Andy. . ." Kevin began. "I wish I knew. I don't think anyone knows."

"I don't care how much she hits me!" Andy cried. "I just want her to come back!"

"I know. . ." Kevin thought about his mother. She had moments of being nice, and sometimes he felt really sorry for her. He'd wake up in the middle of the night sometimes to see her silhouetted in the doorway, the expression in her eyes unreadable. He didn't think she deserved the life she'd had. Other times, like when she'd storm through the front door and start hitting the first kid she saw, Kevin hated his mother. He wished she'd go to hell. There were times when Kevin thought he would have been perfectly happy never to see his mother again. They'd be better off without her, he'd told himself. Way better off.

Andy struggled to catch his breath. He brushed the tears out of his eyes and yawned.

"Kevin, don't go anywhere, okay? Not anywhere."

Kevin felt defeated. "Where would I go?"

"I don't know," Andy admitted. "Just stay here, okay?"

"Andy, I would never leave like she does," Kevin promised. "I swear. Have I ever lied to you?"

Andy yawned again. "You said that Santa Claus died in a bus accident."

"That was because he wasn't coming." Kevin was matter of fact. "Anyway, he did die in a bus accident. Watch and see if he comes this year. He won't. Again."

"Because he's dead," Andy supplied.

"Because he's dead," Kevin agreed. "And the tooth fairy's dead, too."

"Yeah, some kid's parents got her with a fly swatter," Kevin agreed. "So that's why she doesn't come."

"And the Easter Bunny got killed in a drive-by," Andy remembered. "So that's why he doesn't come."

"Yeah," Kevin nodded. He'd felt kind of bad inventing horrible deaths for childhood mythological figures, but he had to get rid of them somehow. Andy and Zac would never buy a simple "they're not real."

"A girl in my class went to the mall, though, and she saw four Santa Clauses," Andy argued. "All at once."

Kevin thought fast. "Well, you see. . . there's a bunch of 'em, there has to be. Because every year at least four Santa Clauses come down the chimney and someone comes out and thinks their house is being robbed, so they shoot him. Anyway, do you really believe that one guy, in one night, can visit every kid in the world who believes in him and leave them all presents? Of course not. So there's millions of Santa Clauses."

"So how come we never see Santa Claus?" Andy asked.

"For one thing, we don't have a chimney," Kevin pointed out. "For another, there's no way Santa Claus would ever, ever come to our neighborhood."

"Yeah," Andy agreed. "I didn't think of that."

-----------------

Thanks for everyone's support and reviews! Leave another one!

margaret