Chapter 5
Watching a trio of little boys roll down a grassy hill with their Growlithe partners, their high-pitched whoops tumbling together with their laughter, Joshua let himself bask for a few seconds in the kids' glee. The boys and Growlithe were a blur of motion - curly hair, a red tennis shoe, skinny white arms, plump-faced grins, a triumphant fist. They appeared to be racing, but their race devolved into a wrestling/tumbling match. When they reached the bottom of the hill with their Growlithe, they shot to their feet and raised triumphant fists; they all seemed to think they won.
What would it be like to live so carefree? Joshua asked himself. Thinking about his dream, he reminded himself that he had a micro-taste of that kind of devil-may-care fun every night. He almost wished he didn't, though. When that feeling was stolen from him, over and over and over again, as his dream repeated night after night, the loss was made more profound by that memory of what fun felt like.
The boys and Growlithe ran back up the hill, and Joshua watched them start another tumbling round. Then he broadened his gaze to take in the Child Development Center at the top of the hill.
In contrast to the government building Joshua had been in the day before, the Development Center was a sleek, modern, white flow of long, glass-filled walls under a gleaming metal roof. Surrounded by nature - the expanses of grass, as well as expertly landscaped displays of flowering bushes and tall trees - the center was not even in the same universe as the ugly brick building that housed Social Services.
Even the sky was prettier here. Or so it seemed. Yesterday's suffocative gray sky was gone. Today's sky was cyan blue, and it was filled with playful white clouds - all puffy and soft-edged and rolling through the sky, not unlike the boys and Growlithe rolling down the hill. The sun was playing peek-a-boo with the clouds; its brilliance nipped in and out as it peeked from behind the white sky-suds and then dipped back behind them again.
The little boys and Growlithe weren't the only kids and Pokémon having fun on the grassy hills outside the center and on the playground equipment in a sandy circular area near the edge of the grass. Twenty-plus kids and Pokémon were running around or pumping themselves higher and higher on the swings or climbing on the jungle gym or teeter-tottering with their friends. The kids ranged in age from about six to fourteen, while the Pokémon with them were mostly Normal-types. The older kids weren't playing. They were either sitting in the grass or on one of the wrought-iron benches placed throughout the area. They either chatted with each other or spoke to their accompanying Pokémon. Adults were there, too. They were all doctors - MDs and PhDs - who oversaw the kids who came to the center.
The center's doctors had a wide array of expertise, Joshua had found out. They were trained to help all sorts of kids with all sorts of developmental problems.
Leaning against the chain-link fence at the outer edge of the center's sprawling property, Joshua vaguely wondered how his life might have turned out differently if he'd had a place like this to come to when he was twelve. Grief was a developmental problem, wasn't it? Loss and guilt could stunt growth every bit as much as the kind of psychological problems they treated here.
Turning away from the more active children, Joshua forced himself to look toward his sister. He had spotted her, of course, as soon as he had gotten out of his car. Ava sat on one of the benches not far from the center's portico-covered entrance. Bent over her Pokémon card collection, Ava was well away from all the other kids. Even so, she was talking.
Joshua was far enough away from Ava that he couldn't hear what she was saying, but he could see her lips moving. He could also see her turn to look beside her or look out in front of the bench, as if she was speaking to invisible companions.
The sun burst from behind the clouds again, and the light blinded Joshua. Closing his eyes, he wiped his face with his palms. He was exhausted. No matter how much time he spent in bed, he never got enough rest. No mystery there. Sleep wasn't sleep for Joshua. It was a project.
Joshua felt a cool hand on his forearm, and he inhaled the scent of cherry blossoms. He opened his eyes and did his best to smile at the slender, cyan-blue-haired woman who stood in front of him.
Dr. Pinery, Ava's psychologist, was a nice lady. With large eyes that were the same color as her hair, Dr. Pinery had a friendly face with a wide, full-lipped smile. Tall and graceful, she wore her hair straight down and long-cut, and her clothes were as beautiful as her hair; she usually had on loose, light-colored yoga pants and pastel-colored tunic shirts. Like the other members of staff, she wore a white lab coat.
"They're here," Dr. Pinery said. "Are you ready?"
Joshua's weak smile disappeared entirely. "Not really," he said.
Dr. Pinery patted his arm but she didn't speak. Joshua was sure she wanted to help, but there were some things she couldn't do.
"Let's get this over with," Joshua said.
Usually, Joshua was pretty comfortable with Dr. Pinery's office. A nice large room with thick blue carpet and furnished sparsely but comfortably with a small white desk, a row of matching shelves stuffed with books and a few nature-themed photos, a high-backed, pale blue office chair, three matching plush thick-arme guest chairs, and a long, blue-and-cream-striped sofa, the office was obviously designed to be calming. Most days, it was. But not today.
It wasn't possible for a room to be calming when Aunt Marla was in it. Her presence was the opposite of calming.
At just five foot four, Marla wasn't an imposing woman. Her petite appearance was helped along by the pastel pant suits she nearly always wore. Today's suit was a very pale brown.
When Marla stood still, she looked insubstantial, even inconsequential. With short, dirty-brunette hair that Joshua was pretty sure she dyed now - she was, after all, in her late forties - Marla had a pale, freckled complexion, ordinary brown eyes, and a narrow face shaped like an upside-down egg. A Pokémon was cradled in her arms; a Deino, its eyes hidden under its black fur. In the abstract, Marla might have been pretty, if not for her personality. It seemed as though she was only nice to certain people, and Joshua was not one of them.
"Look at him." Joshua's aunt said calmly, her voice seething with rage. She pointed her skinny index finger right at Joshua's face. With her exaggerated facial expressions, she almost looked unhinged. And she thought Joshua had problems.
Well, he did have problems, but that wasn't the point.
Dr. Pinery's guest chairs were arranged in front of her desk, spaced about two feet apart. Two feet wasn't nearly enough space. Joshua, sitting to Aunt Marla's left, had to lean back when she pointed her finger at him.
On the other side of Aunt Marla, her lawyer shuddered in the other guest chair. He was sitting so he was canted back and away from his client. Clearly, he didn't want to be close to her any more than Joshua did.
Dr. Pinery, safely behind her desk, was the only person sitting straight. She was also the only person in the room who seemed to be benefitting from her calm décor.
"What is it? Ten o' clock this morning?" Marla continued, her voice growing louder. "And he can barely keep his eyes open."
Joshua, who was aware his eyes were half-closed, resisted the urge to shut them entirely. As tired as he was, his eyes weren't drooping because of that. He had them partially shut to try to dampen the impact of his aunt's voice. This was a trick he had learned many years before.
Aunt Marla was wound up for a very specific reason today. She had an agenda. But it wouldn't have mattered if she didn't have one. She was just a high-strung woman. Petty, loud, and judgmental, she was the reason Joshua had learned the word narcissistic when he was a boy. It was the word his mother had always used to describe her sister-in-law.
Marla crossed her arms, and Joshua pulled back like a Squirtle shrinking into its shell. If only he had a shell of his own to shrink into.
"This degenerate," Marla continued, "is being entrusted with the well-being of a mentally ill child?"
Joshua involuntarily brought a hand up to cover his right ear. The pitch in Marla's voice had begun to hurt his eardrums.
Cocking his head, he looked behind Marla to see if the lawyer - "Just call me Ben; I'm not much on formalities" - was having the same problem, but he couldn't tell. Ben, a large man whose body was freakishly similar in shape to a melting ice-cream cone, gave no indication that he was hearing or seeing anything. The only reason Joshua could tell Ben was alive was that his chest heaved visibly with the effort to breathe, and he made a faint whistling sound each time he exhaled.
Studying Ben, Joshua had a hard time understanding how the man had become a lawyer, or how he kept a practice going. He looked like he was on the verge of going into a coma. Marla might have been making a big deal about Joshua's droopy eyes, but what about her lawyer's slack lids? Hell, his whole entire face was slack. Round and jowly, Ben's cheeks pressed up against a fleshy nose and squeezed a too-small mouth. His tiny eyes were gray and dull-looking. They matched his suit, which was the color of the previous day's clouds. The suit was baggy and wrinkled.
Joshua shifted his attention away from Ben and returned it to his aunt, who was still ranting. He tuned back in, just for kicks. "...who care for the mentally ill should have at least a hint of maturity." Marla pointed at Joshua's jeans and t-shirt. "Do you see any maturity in him?" Marla put her fists on her hips and glared at Dr. Pinery.
Dr. Pinery ignored the question. "As I've made clear many times," she said, "Ava is not mentally ill."
Aunt Marla made a sound that was half-snort and half-raspberry. "Oh, right," she said. "Of course not. Because it's perfectly normal to sit around by yourself drawing pictures and staring longingly at Pokémon cards." Marla wound herself up even tighter. "Ava is a trainwreck," she shouted. "She's light-years behind where she should be at this age, and it's only going to get worse." By the time Marla got to the end of the sentence, her face was bright red, and her voice was cracking.
"How about we all take a slow breath," Dr. Pinery said, "so we can calm down."
The "we" wasn't a "we" at all. Dr. Pinery was calm. Ben was practically unconscious. Joshua was tense, but he was calm enough. Marla was the one who wasn't calm. And Joshua could see that even Dr. Pinery was reaching her limit.
"Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" Marla shrilled. She pointed a finger at Dr. Pinery. "You're her doctor. But you're trying to make me feel like I'm the crazy one here."
There was no trying, Joshua thought. Marla was indeed the only crazy one in the room.
"And what did he do to that poor woman?" Marla said. The volume of her words dropped startlingly, and her tone changed to what Joshua thought was supposed to be sympathetic. Joshua watched Marla's lower lip quiver. He suppressed a smile when he saw her squinch up her eyes like she was trying to squeeze out a tear.
Marla raised her hand, then put a fist to her mouth. The Deino in her lap looked up at her. From what Joshua could tell, even it was growing tired of Marla's sad charade.
"I'm sorry," Marla said breathily, "I just…" She then dug a tissue out of a large cream-colored purse, and blew her nose loudly.
Joshua glanced over at Dr. Pinery. She met his gaze and gave him a sympathetic look. Real sympathy. Not the fake bullshit Marla was trying to sell to the room.
Marla blew her nose again. Joshua, Dr. Pinery, and Ben sat silently. This was like a one-woman play. All they could do was wait for Marla to get to her next line.
After Marla finished nose-blowing, she dropped her dirty tissue on the floor. Joshua looked at it, and he felt his lip curl. He thought he knew his aunt better than to litter, given her supposed caring nature. But he knew it was a facade.
"Now, look," Marla said.
Joshua wasn't sure who she was talking to. Him? Dr. Pinery? Obviously not Ben.
"I tried to play nice," Marla went on. "I really did." She clasped her hands together and pasted a nicey-nice smile on her face. Joshua had to refrain from vomiting.
"But I have to think of Ava now," Marla continued. She arranged her features into an expression that Joshua thought was supposed to be regret. It looked more like constipation. "Enough is enough," Marla declared.
Finally, there was something Joshua could agree with. He'd had more than enough of this meeting.
No one said anything. Marla looked at Joshua. Then she turned toward Ben, who still looked like he needed a ventilator. Joshua wasn't sure if Ben had heard a word of what Marla had said.
"Ben?" Marla said.
Ben didn't move.
Marla leaned over and poked Ben in the ribs, hard. "Ben!" she shouted.
Finally, Ben jerked, coughed, and blinked several times. He looked around as if to remind himself of where he was. Once he was oriented, he cleared his throat and picked up the briefcase that sat next to his small feet. His feet were tucked into expensive black oxford shoes.
Marla tapped her long, manicured fingernails on the slick leather of her bag. She pulled her lips together into a disapproving purse.
Ben was oblivious of his client's scrutiny. He concentrated on opening his briefcase. When he finally pulled out a sheaf of papers, Marla snatched them and turned to shove them at Joshua. He had no choice but to take them.
Glancing down, Joshua's stomach shriveled. They were custody papers.
"In your heart," Marla said, "you know this is the right thing to do."
Joshua didn't know that at all. In his heart, or his brain, or any other part of his body.
"I trust you'll sign," Marla said.
Joshua lifted his head, no longer able to contain himself. "How about I don't?"
Marla's eyes widened, glancing towards Ben, then back at him. "Then my lawyer and I will take you to court, where I'm sure that any judge with an ounce of sanity will make sure you never see Ava again."
Dr. Pinery cleared her throat and began, "That's-"
But Marla shot up from her chair before Dr. Pinery could start. Still cradling the Deino in her arms, she held the flat of her palm toward Dr. Pinery like a traffic cop. "That's it," she said. "We're done here."
With that, Marla took a step toward Ben and whacked him on the shoulder. Like an obedient Rockruff, he closed his briefcase and stood.
Dr. Pinery stood, too. "What about Ava?" she asked Marla. "Have you considered what she may want?"
Marla slowly turned toward Dr. Pinery. Pulling in her chin and drawing her eyebrows together, she tipped her head to one side as if she was studying something in a circus freakshow. "Ava," she said, "...is not safe…with that man."
In contrast to the serene oasis of Dr. Pinery's office, the Development Center's hallways were a chaos of color and light. The walls were papered in rainbows and flowers and other shit, and the floor was covered in carpet squares of nearly every color imaginable. When Joshua and Ava first met with Dr. Pinery, she had explained that a lot of kids at the center needed an abundance of stimulation.
That might have been the case, but the "visual stimulation" got on Joshua's nerves. Especially now.
After Marla and Ben had left Dr. Pinery's office, she'd asked if Joshua needed a minute. He shook his head and stood up. He was really rattled. And furious. And…actually, he didn't know exactly what he felt. He couldn't put a word on it. All he knew was that his stomach was twisted in at least fifty square knots. His colon felt so tangled, he wouldn't have been surprised if food never got through it again. His head didn't feel so good, either. His ears were hot, and he was sure an invisible hand was clamped onto his skull, trying to press him down through the floor.
He didn't want to feel this way in front of Dr. Pinery. He needed to get out of there.
That was why they were in the hall. When Joshua said he had to go, Dr. Pinery had insisted on walking him out.
Other than all the color, the hall was empty. Surprising himself because he'd planned on just getting away without saying a word, he blurted, "Marla had a miscarriage!"
Dr. Pinery glanced at Joshua and gave him a gentle smile of understanding. She was good at that, understanding. Maybe that was why Joshua kept talking.
"Before Ava was born, Marla was expecting a baby of her own. She was really excited about it, too. And we were all so happy for her."
Dr. Pinery gave Joshua another smile. This one seemed to be one of approval.
"But ever since the miscarriage, she hasn't been the same since. That's why she was…the way she was in your office."
Dr. Pinery didn't disagree.
"And that's why she wants custody of Ava. She just wants to have the experience of motherhood that she never got with her own child." Joshua explained. "Am I really supposed to feel sympathy for her after the way she acted?"
Dr. Pinery opened her mouth but then closed it. Another sympathetic smile told Joshua that, once again, she didn't disagree with him.
Together, they turned a corner, heading toward the center's Activity Room. A couple boys about Ava's age went racing past, with a Tepig trotting behind them. The boys smelled like dirty socks and chocolate, and the sounds of pounding feet echoed throughout the hall.
"She makes some good points, though," Joshua said. "Aunt Marla, I hate to admit it, but she's right. I'm not really fit to be raising Ava."
Dr. Pinery finally spoke. "I think Ava would strongly disagree with that."
Joshua threw up his hands. "Come on, Doc. You can't be serious. Ava talks to air more than she talks to me. I could drop dead tomorrow and she'd be too busy collecting more Pokémon cards to even notice."
Now, they had reached the double doors that led into the Activity Room, but Dr. Pinery kept walking. She motioned for Joshua to follow her.
Just past the doors, a long, wide window looked into the room with thick, bright rubberized flooring and multiple play areas. Some of the areas were nothing more than a collection of colorful pillows and cushy play cubes that kids stacked into forts or lay on to draw or play games. Some were climbing towers. Some were elaborate cave-like areas similar to Ava's tent at home, but more sophisticated. The play areas were placed wide apart so there was plenty of open space for the kids and Pokémon to run around. Joshua did a quick count; nine kids were either chasing one another with a Shroodle, or playing games with a couple Smoliv.
There were also several little tables dotting the room. The only one currently occupied was the one on the far side of the room. That was where Ava sat. By herself.
Joshua gestured toward his sister. "See what I mean?"
Dr. Pinery watched Ava as she spoke. "Y'know, pictures hold tremendous power for children." She shifted to face Joshua. "You've heard the expression 'Seeing is believing'?"
Joshua frowned and shrugged. "Sure."
What was the doctor getting at?
Dr. Pinery crossed her arms and leaned back against the glass. "Before we learn to speak, images are the most important tool we have for understanding the world around us. What's real, what matters to us most, these are things children learn to communicate about almost exclusively through pictures."
She paused, and Joshua nodded. "Okay," he said, but he still couldn't see her point.
Dr. Pinery cocked her head and thought for a second. Then she tried again. "See, kids aren't all that good at consciously accessing what they feel. What they like to do can be seen as…their subconscious at work."
"So, you're saying Ava's drawings and cards mean something?" Joshua asked when the lightbulb finally came on.
Dr. Pinery nodded several times. "Without question."
Joshua chewed on that for a second.
Dr. Pinery put a hand on his shoulder. "So let me ask you this. Who's featured, prominently, in nine out of ten of Ava's drawings?"
Joshua didn't speak, but he knew the answer to Dr. Pinery's question. He himself was featured in most of Ava's drawings.
Dr. Pinery squeezed Joshua's shoulder. "I can see you get it." She laughed. "Like it or not, you're her world. You might not believe you're the one for the job, but your sister certainly does."
Joshua stared at Dr. Pinery for a few seconds, then he shifted his attention back to Ava. Could it be true? Was he really the best thing for Ava to have? For a second, he felt his shoulders lift. His stomach started to unknot. But then the inner snarls kinked up again. His shoulders slumped. Even if he was good for Ava, how could he give her what she needed when he couldn't even give himself what he needed?
And then there was Aunt Marla. How could he stop her from getting custody of his sister? These and a dozen other questions swirled through Joshua's head.
"What if it's not up to me?" Joshua asked, voicing one of the questions aloud. "My aunt may be selfish, but she's right. No judge in their right mind would ever take my side."
Dr. Pinery shook her head. "Don't be so quick to throw in the towel," she said. "You're Ava's primary caregiver. You have been for some time. And you're her immediate family. Demonstrate even a modicum of stability, and a judge might surprise you."
Is that true? Joshua wondered. Do I actually have a chance?
Dr. Pinery tilted her head. "Have you found a job yet?" she asked.
Joshua didn't answer the question, but his face did it for him. Even a second of thinking about his job hunting failures made him look like he had just sucked a lemon.
Dr. Pinery patted him on the back. "That would be a good place to start," she said.
