Silent. Part 18
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After Suzie left, I had a few moments of peace. I might have dozed off for a while, because I didn't hear Eleanor approaching the bed. She hovered a few feet away, her tiny body a blur of quivering black from my shrouded viewpoint.
"Would you like to have dinner, Alex? We've ordered pizza."
I said nothing.
"Would you prefer something different?"
I rolled over to face the wall.
"Some pasta, maybe? Magda made lasagna yesterday. I think there's leftovers."
How long would I have to wait before she got the picture?
"Well, if you get hungry later, please let me know. I can make you something anytime you'd like."
No locks on her cabinets, evidently.
She finally gave up, wisping out of the room like a frightened little gnat. I wondered what was so scary about my silence. Or maybe she was just frightened of me me? I hadn't actually done anything to cause that-yet-but I obviously wasn't what she'd expected.
In any case, her feelings weren't my concern. More time pa.s.sed in the blue darkness, and it started to grow warm under there from the heat of my breath. I made a little hole for my mouth and nose so I could get some fresh air, but didn't move very much.
The sun set outside, my blue surroundings gradually darkening until they were black. I listened carefully to the shuffling sounds as Eleanor and Greg-and I suppose Magda, whoever she was-puttered about the house. Eventually I heard closing doors and running sinks and then silence.
Too much silence.
When there was nothing but the faint chorus of crickets for what felt like ages, I ended up doing something I hadn't done since the fifth grade.
I cried myself to sleep.
PART TWO.
Chapter 13: Like a Brother.
Eleanor and Suzie were murmuring out in the hallway while I pretended to be asleep. I wondered if Suzie realized I could hear them. Maybe she wanted me to know just how concerned concerned they all were for me. they all were for me.
"He barely eats," Eleanor whined. "He doesn't speak to me, he hardly leaves the room...he hasn't ever come down to join us at the table..."
"I know this is asking a lot for your first foster, but I really think he just needs some time to work through what's happened. It's a tremendous amount of change for a young boy."
"Maybe...maybe it's too much change. Maybe he'd be happier...somewhere else."
Bitter, near-silent laughter left my lips. The woman was ready to p.a.w.n me off already.
"I did want to speak with him about a possible placement that would allow him to go back to his school in Mid City..."
"Maybe I should take him to my therapist? I've nothing against the one you brought, but she didn't seem to get through to him. Dr. Eisenberg has a lot of experience with kids-he's even seen my Dylan. And Greg and I would be happy to cover the expense."
"We could consider that. Maybe give it another couple days. I can try to bring another counselor we work with-a male one. Maybe Alex will relate better to him."
I doubted it.
The conversation drifted downstairs, leaving me to the silence. I wasn't really that bothered by it anymore, though I found it easier to fall asleep during the day, when there was at least some noise to distract me from thinking.
Judging by the light streaming through the arched window, it was still before noon. I could expect a sandwich at my door in about an hour, so I decided to kill time by thumbing through a few of Dylan's old sports magazines. I'd never really been into professional athletes, but at least some some of the guys within the pages had to be good looking. It felt like ages since I'd seen anyone who'd made my heart beat a little faster. of the guys within the pages had to be good looking. It felt like ages since I'd seen anyone who'd made my heart beat a little faster.
At the edge of my mind, thoughts of Seb tried to push their way to center stage, but I fought them back. No sense in torturing myself.
Eventually I found a few pages on surfers, and that kept me occupied for a while. But it was only a mild interest-certainly nothing I felt inspired to act on-so after a few minutes I tossed the magazines aside. I hadn't felt inspired by much since that last night with Seb.
d.a.m.n. Those memories were still lurking in my brain, just waiting to make me all depressed.
I got out of bed and headed over to the toy box, where I sifted through the mess of action figures and Legos. There was also a handheld videogame console in there, but I usually saved that for the nights I couldn't fall asleep. So my only options were the TV and computer outside the room, or one worn-out old baseball that sat in the corner of the chest.
I chose the baseball. The less I was forced to interact with Greg and Eleanor, the better.
Settling back on the bed, I tossed the ball up in the air a few times while a lawnmower started outside. An older Latino man was toiling away on Eleanor and Greg's yard, tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the gra.s.s around the edge of their pool. I wondered if there was any chance he was from my neighborhood, and for a second I thought of calling out to ask before I realized how stupid that would be. There were thousands of Mexican gardeners in LA. What were the odds he lived near my home? And besides, what would I say to him even if he did?
There would be no one coming to my rescue...not that a sane person would need rescuing from where I was.
I lay down against my forearm, wrist up as I still gripped the baseball in my palm. The bandage was off now-my burn was about as healed as it was ever going to get. Dragging my other hand over the area, I felt the little hills and valleys of puckered flesh with my fingertips.
An image of pale, delicate fingers running over the spot where my dark ones now rested suddenly flashed in my mind, and a pang of loneliness. .h.i.t me. As if the d.a.m.n thing didn't remind me of enough, I now had to add Seb to the list. It had to remind me of his wide, wondering eyes each time he'd been distracted by it.
Before I could toss the memories aside, something about them gnawed at me, and I sat up slightly.
Had he just been distracted? If he was really a special kid, then sure; he saw something out of the ordinary and wanted a closer look. But if he wasn't... he just been distracted? If he was really a special kid, then sure; he saw something out of the ordinary and wanted a closer look. But if he wasn't...
I thought back to the conversations we'd had, and to the moments his attention had wandered. Was it random, or had it been his answer to my questions? Maybe it'd been his way of letting me know that I did did belong in foster care...his way of reminding me what my life had really been like. belong in foster care...his way of reminding me what my life had really been like.
That patch of skin on my wrist was the only part of it I couldn't deny-the two-inch visible mark of a larger hidden truth.
My eyes burned, but I was determined not to cry again. I just kept stroking the scar, wis.h.i.+ng it were Seb's touch along it and not my own.
G.o.d, I missed him. I missed all of them, really, but Seb most of all. And not just because of that slim hope of a relations.h.i.+p. He'd been a friend long before that thought had even crossed my mind.
Not that I deserved his friends.h.i.+p. What had I done for him? Taken advantage of his startlingly beautiful body while he tried to sleep? Promised him I'd be there for him if he ever needed me, and then let him get carted off to some sort of facility, away from everything and everyone he knew?
What the f.u.c.k kind of person was I? Seb was probably stuck in army-style barracks, and here I was in the lap of luxury, wallowing in a pool of my own pity.
Suddenly disgusted with myself, I launched the baseball across the room. It hit the wall with a satisfying thump, and I imagined Eleanor somewhere down below, letting out a frightened little squeak in response.
I was obviously a selfish a.s.shole. A selfish a.s.shole who needed to get over himself, and now was as good a time to start as any. Before I could talk myself out of it, I scrambled for the door, flung it open and took a giant step out.
Two seconds later, I was flat on my a.s.s. Apparently my reflexes were a bit rusty from all the wallowing, and I'd failed to notice the box with the blue satin bow that lay in the hallway until I'd tripped over it.
I scooped it into my lap and read the small note attached.
Thought you might like these.
~Eleanor and Greg The ribbon slipped off with a single yank and I uncovered a pair of bright white sneakers, adorned by a familiar check mark design.
s.h.i.+t. Name brand and everything. Suzie must've told them they'd make me happy. And a couple weeks ago, they would have. Now...I was pretty sure only one thing would. Or one person.
I slipped the shoes on and laced them up, pleased to feel they were a little loose, then stood and jogged down the stairs.
Eleanor was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she stirred some honey into a gla.s.s mug of tea.
I cleared my throat. "Thanks."
"Oh!" She whirled around, her hand flying to her chest. "Oh, Alex! You startled me."
"Thanks," I repeated, pointing to my feet. "For the shoes."
"Oh, you're so welcome," she gushed, green eyes lighting up victoriously. "I hoped you'd like them...those were the kind Dylan used to wear."
"Yeah, they're...good."
"I'm so happy to see you out of the room," she went on. She must've been thrilled to finally be getting something out of me, and it looked like she wasn't going to let this opportunity go. "Oh, you must be hungry! Tell me, what can I make for you? Or maybe you'd like to go out? We could get frozen yogurt if you like, there's a Pinkberry's nearby..."
I put up both my hands to try to stop the onslaught. "I'm not hungry."
"Oh." She deflated instantly.
"Look, I just need to talk to Suzie."
"Oh...well, she was here earlier..."
I rolled my eyes. "I know that. And now I need to talk to her."
"I believe she said she'd be back early next week..."
I clenched my fists, biting back an angry retort. Eleanor was already jumpy around me, and if I was going to get her help, I probably needed to stay cool.
Keeping my voice low, I looked her straight in the eye. "I really need to talk to her now."
"Well...why don't we give her a call then?"
"I need to talk to her in person."
"Oh." She frowned. "I'm not sure..."
I took a deep breath and lowered my voice even more. "Please, Eleanor."
Bingo. Her resistance melted away and she placed her tea on the counter as she headed straight for the phone. She had a hushed conversation with Suzie in the living room and returned a few minutes later with a heroic smile.
"She's very busy with paperwork today, but she said we could stop by her office in an hour, okay?"
I gave her a grin, since I knew how happy it'd make her. "Yeah. Great."
Suzie didn't get a smile. We had business to attend to.
I was surprised to find she worked in a cubicle, with brown filing cabinets all around her. A picture of a hefty man and woman tacked against the blue wall was the only decoration I could see. Could've been her parents.
A last name and a family-guess she was a real person after all.
"Well, this is certainly a surprise," she said. "A good one, though. I wanted to ask if you'd prefer another placement in Mid City so you could continue going to the same school."
I frowned. "Is anyone else still going there? Anyone from Ms. Loretta's, I mean."
Suzie shook her head. "Not at the moment, no."
So everyone had lost. Ms. Loretta and Ms. Cecily had lost their home, the boys had lost their makes.h.i.+ft family, Laloni had lost Brandon, and I'd lost...
Time to get to work. "Look, I didn't come to talk about school. I really need to see Seb."
Her brows shot up, but she quickly brought them back down. "Oh. Well, we can arrange for a visit, maybe next weekend."
"No, listen. I need to see him now. Today."
She started to shake her head. "Alex, I don't really think-"
"No!" I slammed my hand on her desk for emphasis. But then I saw the hints of fear in her eyes, and I quickly dampened my frustration, deciding on a new play. Maybe that whole soft-spoken technique that had worked on Eleanor would work with all white ladies.
Suzie's hand was resting on her keyboard, and I reached over to place my own on top of it. "Suzie, it's been a while already. I didn't even get to say goodbye. He's been sent away to some strange place without anyone he knows. He might be scared or lonely and I promised him-promised him-I had his back. I can't let him go on thinking no one cares about him." him-I had his back. I can't let him go on thinking no one cares about him."
Her expression softened and I went in for the kill. "Please, Suzie. Please."
Still looking hesitant, she pa.s.sed her gaze to a large clock on the wall. "Let me finish up a few things here...maybe you'd like to come back in an hour? I know Eleanor would enjoy taking you out to lunch."
I sat back in the chair. "I'll wait."
Thirty minutes later, we were on our way out to Pasadena. I wasn't happy the place was so far, and I was even less thrilled when Suzie pulled off the freeway to make a pit stop in Silverlake.
"I just need to run in and grab something," she said, parking by an apartment building with cheesy potted ferns lining its entranceway.
Again, I was surprised to find she didn't have a house, as I'd a.s.sumed all white people over the age of thirty did. This was just a regular old apartment complex, its front painted a pinkish color in a sad attempt to look like adobe. Balconies big enough for only one person jutted out awkwardly from each floor.
Silent. Part 18
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Silent. Part 18 summary
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