Chapter 4

Joshua waited for the door to close. He listened to Ann's footsteps tap across the concrete porch. As soon as he was sure she was gone, he clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes closed so hard that his entire body trembled.

He clamped his mouth closed, too. If he hadn't, he was sure he would have screamed. A wail of despair and frustration and fury was churning in his chest, and it took everything he had not to let it come roaring out, leaping up his throat like a wild Pokémon finally freed from a cage.

Gazing at the delinquency notice, he thought about his aunt's message. Or else. Joshua knew what that meant. Damn that woman. Damn her to the Lake of Fire. When was she going to back off?

Joshua shook his head. "Never," he said aloud.

Taking a deep breath, he shoved aside the thoughts of his aunt. Smelling the pizza's sauce and cheese, he thought about eating, but that idea immediately brought a wave of nausea.

Joshua stood up and looked at the half-eaten pizza. It was cold, and the cheese was starting to congeal. He was tempted to dump it in the trash, but maybe if he warmed it up, he could get Ava to eat it.

Not holding his breath but figuring he should try to feed his sister, Joshua put the pizza in the little microwave. He pressed a couple buttons and turned a head toward Ava's room.

As he rotated, he saw the delinquency notice. His rage and frustration combusting, he grabbed it, balled it up, and flung it into the plastic bin under the kitchen sink. Then he kicked the bin, slammed the cabinet door, and looked up at the dirty white ceiling.

Three feet above Joshua's head, a Dewpider was scurrying up a long web that stretched from a grungy glass ceiling light to the corner of the room.

"Go," Joshua said to the Dewpider. He hoped the thing had better luck at getting its home in order than Joshua was having.

Ava loved her tent, but she also loved her desk. Too bad she couldn't fit her desk inside the tent. Drawing was much easier at her desk. So was admiring her Pokémon card collection.

Toying with the shoulder strap of her favorite blue overalls, Ava looked at the array of crayons splayed out next to her drawing pad. Which shade of green would be better for the big tree? Deciding, Ava picked up the darkest green crayon and began carefully sketching in the fluffy edges of a tall pine tree's branches.

The squat, orange metal lamp that sat on her desk shone down on the tree like sunshine, making the yellow sun Ava had already drawn above the tree even brighter-looking. The golden warmth of the desk lamp made Ava's Pokémon and two people drawn under the tree look even happier than Ava wanted them to look. Even as Ava bent over the task of creating dozens of little green pine needles on the tree, she glanced at the Pokémon she had drawn, and at the two stick figures. She'd meant for it to look like they were all playing ring-around-the-rosy, and she wasn't sure she had pulled it off, but the big curved smiles she had put on their faces made it clear they were playing and having a good time.

For a second, Ava's bedroom door squeaked. She glanced over her shoulder as Joshua stepped into her room.

"What're you drawing?" Joshua asked as his shuffling steps crossed her carpet.

"Trees," Ava said simply. She looked up when Joshua stopped beside her white desk chair. The desk chair was called a ladderback chair - Joshua had told Ava that. She didn't like it as much as the desk. It was hard and made her back hurt if she sat in it for too long. That was why sometimes she drew in her tent, even though the drawings she did there were never as good.

Joshua's arm slipped past Ava's shoulder. He tapped the man in her drawing.

"This good-looking dude I recognize," he said. Then he moved his fingers to one of Ava's friends. "And what's this?"

Ava kept working on the tree. "My…friends," she said. "It's not done yet."

Joshua sighed softly, choosing not to criticize how he felt about Ava's friends. The floor creaked as Joshua took a step back away from Ava's chair. "You can finish later," he said. The words sounded sad. "It's time for dinner."

Ava set down the green crayon and picked up a bright yellow one to add a little more detail to one of the Pokémon. "I'm not hungry," she said.

Joshua let out another sigh, this time loud enough for Ava to just barely hear it. "But Ava," Joshua said. "You need to eat. Come on."

The floor creaked again, and Joshua's hand closed around Ava's upper arm. He attempted to pull her from her chair.

"No!" Ava shrieked as she dropped her crayon and whirled to face her brother. The word came out like a siren from her mouth, the one small sound raising and lowering in pitch and volume. Ava twisted her arm to shake off Joshua's hand.

As soon as Ava pulled away from Joshua, he let go of her. Ava rubbed her arm. It didn't really hurt. Joshua had held her firmly, but he hadn't been rough. He was never rough.

Sighing for a third time, Joshua backed away from Ava and sat down on the edge of her bed. Ava stayed in her chair and watched him. The thin mattress sank under his weight and the box springs let out a squeak.

Joshua rubbed his palms over his face. Then he looked at Ava as if he was about to beg her for a favor. "Ava," he said, his voice really soft, "the day I'm having…" he swallowed and shook his head. "Just please come and eat some food. Please."

Ava looked at her brother. She thought he looked pale, and the little lines at the outside corners of his eyes were bunched up tighter than usual. She shifted her gaze to the mattress Joshua sat on.

"You're sitting on my friend." she said.

Joshua shuddered and stood back up, realizing he couldn't get through to Ava. "Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. I don't care."

Joshua started lumbering toward the door, but then he stopped. He spoke again, this time with his back to Ava. "But you should know what happens to little kids who don't eat their dinner." He rotated toward Ava in super-slow motion. He squinted at Ava and scrunched his face into what Ava thought was supposed to be a mean look, like he was trying to be a Dark-type Pokémon using the move Mean Look.

Ava didn't feel like playing along with Joshua's stupid game, so she stayed silent. She looked at him, keeping her face totally blank.

"When kids don't eat," Joshua said, leaning forward, "their bodies stay the same size forever."

Ava shrugged and rolled her eyes.

Joshua continued, "When kids' bodies stay that way, that means they die without ever getting to ride the adult rides at amusement parks."

Ava almost smiled at that. But Joshua didn't deserve a smile. She looked away from him, and back to her mattress. She studied the spot where Joshua had sat.

"My friend says you're an idiot," Ava told Joshua, glancing toward him again.

Joshua's face went rigid. A vein at the edge of his forehead got bigger and looked like it was hopping up and down under his skin. Ava thought she could hear his teeth grinding as he turned around and headed toward her door.

Just shy of the door, he stopped, and looked back at Ava. "At least I'm real," he said, his voice was hard and unfriendly.

Then he strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The slam sound took a couple of seconds to fade out. But the yucky feeling Joshua left behind lingered for longer than that.

Ava looked over at the bed. "He doesn't mean it," she said quietly. "He has stress."

From beyond the door, Joshua's voice was muffled and distant. "No, I don't!" he shouted.

Joshua dropped onto the edge of his turned-down bed. He sat down so hard that the bed's wood-slatted headboard knocked against the wall. As if in response to the thud, he could hear some wild Pokémon calling out in the distance. The sound of tires on the street and the purr of an engine reached in through Joshua's closed window.

Joshua looked at his pillow. All he wanted to do was flop down and put his face in it and block out the day. But no, he couldn't sleep just yet.

Raising his tired ass off his bed, half-standing, Joshua reached under his mattress and grabbed his pill bottle. Wrapping his fingers around the hard, smooth plastic, he closed his eyes, savoring the momentary relief he always felt when he started his nighttime routine.

Joshua opened the bottle's childproof cap and pulled out one of the small white pills. Immediately popping the pill in his mouth, Joshua reached for the glass of water he had put on his nightstand. He took a few sips of water, washing down the pill.

Finally, Joshua could put his day behind him.

Leaning forward, he pushed PLAY on the cassette player. Immediately, his bedroom was filled with peaceful forest sounds. He closed his eyes and focused on the sprightly chirping of Bird Pokémon, the cracks and snaps of branches being rustled by the wind. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he lay down flat on his bed.

Opening his eyes, he looked straight up above his bed. Seeing past the images of the day that flicked through his mind like a herky-jerky slide show, Joshua focused on the poster taped to his ceiling.

"PINING FOR FUN?" The poster's heading read, "VISIT ARBOLIVA FOREST."

The words, popping from the paper in a bright yellow block-letter font, paraded across the tops of a shaggy cluster of pine trees. As Joshua gazed at the trees, the slide show in his head continued. He saw the ugly, brick government building, the social worker's uneven skirt, and the paper number thirty-four. He saw Jessica's smug face. He saw a series of HELP WANTED signs and a matching series of head shakes as he was told he wasn't right for the jobs. He saw Ann's big eyes and Ava's dark ones. He saw the red delinquency notice, and finally, the pizza he had ended up throwing away because he had microwaved it too long, and because Ava had never come out of her room to eat it.

Breathe, he told himself, zeroing in on the sounds of the babbling brook that were coming from his cassette player. He squinted at the pine trees, putting all his attention on his ritual so he could let the rest of the day fade away.

Briefly, Joshua remembered the first night he'd put up the poster. It had seemed like a stupid idea, but he was desperate. That night, it had taken forever for the cassette's sounds and the poster's image to work their magic. Now, though, the effect was more immediate.

In a matter of seconds, Joshua's mind let go of the day's impressions. His consciousness slipped into the pine tree scene, and the forest sounds grew clearer, more and more realistic.

Joshua's gaze was full-on committed now. He was homed in. But as his weary eyes lowered down into place, the sounds and images in his head began to change. The sounds of the babbling brook from the cassette changed into rolling ocean waves, and the images of a stand of pine trees transformed into a vast, sandy beach with a few scattered palm trees. The wind Joshua heard was swaying in the palm trees in a gentle back-and-forth rhythm.

Once Joshua's eyes were fully closed, he realized that the trees didn't disappear.

A gentle breeze caressed through the palm trees. The leaves shimmied back and forth in what almost looked like a choreographed dance.

In between the palm trees, a beam of sunshine slanted downward onto brightly-colored sand. Above the sand, caught in the sun's brilliant illumination, a green toy airplane arced through the air.

A little boy's hand gripped the body of the plane. The little boy looked to be about four years old. He had tousled black hair and bow-like lips.

"Sunny," a woman's voice called out. "Stay close."

Sunny and his airplane whipped past a picnic table and disappeared from view just as a red spray of ketchup splattered all over a burger on a paper plate lying on the table. A smiling dark-haired man, who looked like an adult version of Sunny, walked past the picnic table. The man, carrying a couple sleeping bags, laughed and called out, "How about some burger with that ketchup, hon?"

Joshua, eleven years old and all about having fun, grinned at his mom. She looked at the ketchup bottle in her hand and winked at him.

"Everything's better with ketchup. Right, Josh?"

"Right!" Joshua said as he reached for his soda, accidentally knocking over the bottle with a thunk. The soda's fizzing brownish liquid sounded like it was sizzling as it pooled on the wood.

"Oops!" Joshua's mom said and turned away from the table. "I'm going to grab a towel. Keep an eye on your brother."

Joshua started to turn toward Sunny, but as he did the edge of a Frisbee nearly grazed his cheek as it whizzed past. Joshua instinctively jumped up and jogged away from the picnic table to retrieve the bright green disc, which had landed at the edge of the table.

Joshua reached the Frisbee in seconds, and he bent over to pick it up. As his hand closed over the plastic rim of the disc, he heard the sound of a car engine revving.

Joshua straightened and looked around. He didn't see the car, but there was something else even more important that he didn't care.

"Sunny?" Joshua called.

But Sunny was nowhere to be seen. Frisbee dangling from his hand, Joshua started walking toward the far side of the beach. His pace was casual at first. Then his brother's continued absence filled him with urgency. He started trotting toward the trees that lined the little road that led to the beach.

"Sunny!" Joshua called again.

Joshua heard the crackling, pinging sound of tires churning over dirt. Through the line of trees, he saw the hulking shape of a black car as it peeled away into the forest.

Joshua broke into a full-out run.

"Sunny!" His shout was shrill and piercing.

Joshua was sprinting through the forest now. The low-hanging tree branches slapped at his face; like they were trying to grab at him. Fallen twigs and leaf litter crackled under his feet. His nostrils were filled with the sharp smell of oak leaves and the moist scent of the ground's soft soil.

Joshua burst out of the other side of the trees just in time to see the black car pick up speed. The car was at least fifty feet past Joshua, quickly zooming away.

Peering hard, Joshua looked toward the back of the car. His heart felt like it was being twisted in his chest as he looked at the car's rear window.

"Sunny!" he gasped.

Sunny's pale, wide-eyed face looked back at Joshua through the window. Clutching the green airplane, Sunny put a hand to the glass. His eyes were filled with tears. His mouth was wide open, calling out.

Joshua opened his mouth, too. He began screaming Sunny's name…

The constant beeping of Joshua's alarm clock felt like a lasso that cinched up around him and yanked him out of sleep. Pulling a face, he reached for his alarm.

Today, his palm managed to find the top of the alarm. As soon as the beeping stopped, Joshua smoothly went through his morning routine: Cassette player off. Rewind. Pills under the mattress. Push-ups.

Joshua's head didn't hurt as much this morning, but that didn't mean he felt any better. He wouldn't feel better until he could…fix things. And after thirteen years of trying, he was starting to think that would never happen.