Dominic’s Story….
Ten year old Dominic glared at the boy in the front of the room. What a “goody-goody,” Dominic thought with disgust. The kid had only lived in the neighborhood for a few months, knew nothing of how things were run. Dominic understood that he’d have to give the kid a lesson, show him that he wasn’t in charge.
Leslie Urman turned around and whispered something to the new guy and Dominic just about spit on the floor as jealousy burned in his gut. He didn’t spit, but only because he’d been sent to the principal’s office last week for doing the exact same thing.
Glancing at the clock, Dominic counted down the minutes until recess. He’d confront the other boy quickly, get the message across, then charm Leslie back into his corner. He might be only ten years old, but he still preferred all the girls to like him more than the other boys.
The teacher handed out the math test and Dominic rolled his eyes at the simple problems, irritated that he had to waste time on questions like these. His pencil skimmed down the page, filling out the answers quickly before walking to the front of the room to hand in his paper.
But the new kid slapped his own paper down first!
Unheard of! Impossible!
Dominic looked at the other boy. They were about the same size although this kid had slightly darker hair. Even his eyes were dark – almost black – but in reality, they were probably just a dark brown. In that instant, his animosity dissipated and Dominic nodded his head, acknowledging a fellow math aficionado. There weren’t any others in the class who could do math as quickly as he could, so there must be some redeeming qualities to the guy.
Dominic moved back to his seat, rethinking his plan. Maybe the guy wasn’t so bad. Maybe there was some way the two could peacefully co-exist.
His meditations on dropping his loner status were interrupted by the principal walking into the room. “Ms. Novak,” the principal was saying, interrupting the test the rest of the students were taking, “I have a new student for your class. His name is Angelo Donati.” The principal looked down at the boy with a warning in his eye. “Mr. Donati, please take a seat and make sure you remember all the items we discussed in my office.”
Dominic watched as Angelo stared down the principal, an action Dominic admired significantly, and his respect for this new guy rose exponentially without knowing anything else about him.
It took several moments, but the principal actually backed down. Dominic smirked, thinking about the ridiculous rules the Principal had imposed on several of the students lately. It was nice to think that someone could take the man down a peg or two.
The dark haired new guy took the only available empty seat which was three rows over and five seats up. It gave Dominic a chance to study the new guy who was immediately given the math test. “Just give it your best shot,” his teacher, encouraged.
Angelo looked down at the paper, picked up his pencil and Dominic noted the time on the clock above the classroom doorway. Sure enough, he still finished his math test faster than the rest of the class. As Angelo was walking back to his seat after handing in the paper, Dominic looked towards the front and the dark eyed kid was looking back at him. He felt it too and Dominic almost laughed out loud. There was just something about competition that stirred something inside of him. He loved it! It gave him purpose, focus, and he never lost!
Perhaps the reason he slacked off most of the time in school was because the other students in the class didn’t offer him any competition. Hmm….interesting concept, he thought as he pulled out his comic book and the secret one. He leaned back in his seat and read through Sherlock Holmes, hiding the thick book behind the comic book pages. He’d be damned if anyone else in the class knew the kinds of things he was reading. His teacher, Ms. Novak, had suggested the detective mysteries to him yesterday during library time. It wasn’t one of the normal library books. Ms. Novak had brought him off to the side and handed him the book. “This is a bit outside of our normal reading levels,” she said, “but I think you can handle it.” She looked apprehensively at the librarian as if she might get in trouble for suggesting something so advanced to a fifth grader. “If you have any problems with any of the words, just come talk to me after school.”
That had been yesterday morning. Dominic was now halfway through the book and was enthralled by the crime solver. His eyes whipped across the pages, unaware that the other students were slowly finishing up their math tests and handing them in, pulling out their own books or passing notes to each other.
By the time the whole class was finished, Dominic had also finished the book. He grumbled silently with frustration as he closed it up, then hid it in his threadbare backpack until the end of class.
When everyone else filed out of the room for recess, Dominic took the book out and meandered at a more leisurely pace up to the teacher, the book hidden behind his back.
“Hi there, Dominic,” she said with an encouraging smile. “You got a perfect score on the math test,” she said with a chuckle. “But you probably were expecting that, weren’t you?”
Dominic just shrugged a bit, blushing because Ms. Novak was always encouraging him to do better. He liked that about her. His other teachers tended to dismiss him as a screw up because of his ragged clothes or the fact that he missed school so often. But Ms. Novak simply sent the work home with one of his neighbors on those days and Dominic taught himself the work from home while helping his dad through whatever bout of “hangover” had occurred from the previous night’s drinking. “It was pretty easy,” he said.
Dominic pulled the book around and laid it on her desk, pulling the other papers over it. Just in case one of the other students came in, he didn’t want them seeing what he might be reading. “Here’s your book back,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”
Ms. Novak looked at the large tome covered in test papers. “Was it too tough for you? I’m sorry, I thought you could…”
“I finished it,” he said, shifting his feet on the dirty linoleum floor. He couldn’t look her in the eye as he said, “I was just wondering if…” he shuffled his feet some more, “if maybe you might have…” he stumbled around slightly, trying desperately to get the words out.
Ms. Novak put a finger under his chin. “Dominic, it’s okay if you weren’t able to read Sherlock Holmes. It’s a very difficult book that is generally read by college students.”
Dominic shook his head. “I want more,” he finally was able to get out. “I loved the book. I thought maybe you had other books that might be just as interesting.”
Ms. Novak stared at the boy, unable to believe that he’d read the entire Sherlock Holmes story in one night. “Dominic, are you really trying to tell me that you read about four hundred pages in two days?” she asked, her eyes revealing her disbelief.
Dominic understood that she didn’t believe him. So he proved it to her, as he had to do on many other occasions. People often doubted a lot of what he had to say or what he’d done. He related details of the story, about the forensic evidence, the clues that the detective had sorted through, his relationship with Watson, even going on to tell Ms. Novak the point at which Dominic had figured out who had committed the crime. During the whole recitation, Ms. Novak’s face changed from disbelieving to shocked, to amazed that he could even recall so many details.
When he was finished, she blinked several times in the silence. “That’s quite…” her mind searched frantically for the right term and ended up saying, “stunning.”
In the next moment, she clapped her hands together and looked behind her. “I apologize for doubting you. And I have to also compliment you on your extraordinary reading skills. You’re truly talented. I’d like to get you tested if that’s…”
“I can’t,” Dominic countered, shaking his head emphatically. “No money.” Again, he resorted to looking down at the floor, shifting his feet and killing the cockroach that was skittering across the floor. He even took the time to carefully push the smooshed bug under the desk so Ms. Novak wouldn’t see it. Dominic knew that his teacher would scream about the bug. There were even days when she would stand on a pedestal when she’d seen too many of them in the day.
Dominic just shook his head on those days. He knew from personal experience that cockroaches could climb up anything. The filthy apartment he shared with his father was evidence of just how agile the disgusting things could be.
Ms. Novak looked at the young boy she suspected might have a genius IQ, frustrated that she couldn’t convince either her department head or her principal of the child’s exceptional capabilities. “Well, that’s not really the point anyway, is it?” she reassured him. She looked in her bag and pulled out another book, biting her lip as she considered if this student was ready to advance so quickly. With a mental nod, she knew that, if she didn’t push him, he’d just languish. Dominic Carson’s intelligence was one of those rare gifts. She couldn’t let him teeter into boredom. Besides, he seemed desperately thirsty for knowledge and, as a teacher, she reacted to that thirst.
“Since you were able to read Sherlock Holmes, this one might be a bit less of a challenge, but perhaps this book will compensate,” she said and handed him the story of Robin Hood. “This was actually just a ballad that was passed on from person to person,” she explained as Dominic opened the cover, his eyes skimming the words. “But many people have tried to create stories around the mythical person in Sherwood Forest.”
She took a deep breath and then pushed the other book forward. “And here’s another idea. You finish your math too quickly and I know you’re bored. So I was wondering if you might do me a favor.” Dominic looked up into her eyes as his dirty hands reverently opened the math book filled with words and symbols that he had no clue how to interpret. “Here’s a math book for kids that are generally a bit older than you are. Maybe you could take a stab at the problems in here and come back to me with ideas on how to teach this more effectively. I’d like to be able to teach students how this kind of math could be used in real life.”
With a racing, excited heart, he took both books and hid them inside his book bag, then headed out of the classroom to follow his classmates. “Thanks,” he mumbled, embarrassed that his teacher was helping him to this extent but just about beside himself with the eagerness to discover whatever Ms. Novak had given him. He prided himself on taking care of himself, not needing anyone. But in this case, he didn’t mind. At least not too much.
Maybe his dad would be drunk again tonight and wouldn’t know he was reading. It was generally best if his dad came home from work, turned on the television and drowned his sorrows in the rotgut gin he bought on the way home from the factory on most days. Dominic preferred a drunk father to a sober one. His dad didn’t have good aim when he was drunk, so Dominic could avoid being backhanded more easily.
Dominic walked through the school playground, winking at Jenny Martin and Suzy Miller, remembering not to chuckle when they giggled at his attentions. Girls didn’t like it when he chuckled, he reminded himself.
As soon as he turned the corner, he found his secret spot behind the brick wall. He knew that the other teachers and principals suspected he was up to no good when he was hidden. But Dominic didn’t really care what they thought. The other kids thought the same thing and it helped keep them away. The other kids worried that they’d be tainted with the same brush in the principal’s mind if they sniffed around at his hiding place, so it was better to maintain the bad reputation. It kept him safe. A few snarls here, posturing as he walked home, and his oddly huge size were the three things he’d learned would keep the bad kids from bothering with him.
It also helped that they thought the bruises he sometimes showed up to school wearing were from afterschool fights. Well, they sort of were, he thought as he slid his back down the brick wall while pulling the “new” books out of his backpack at the same time. He also knew that the other kids suspected he had drugs or cigarettes in his backpack, which is why he always carried it around, keeping it close by. All part of the aura, he told himself.
He ignored the dirt under his fingernails as he looked at the two books, trying to decide which to open up first. They both seemed intriguing. In the end, he chose the math book, not even sure how to pronounce the title. “Geometry,” he sounded out in a whisper.
He read through the instructions, his mind sifting through the details and working the math problems through in his head. He could see the figures, worked through the logic and theorems, found himself fascinated by the processes.
He flipped through the pages quickly, going through each of the formulas as if he were drinking a glass of water at the end of a long, hot run. He couldn’t get enough of the equations, new symbols, and the words that described them.
When the recess bell rang, he slipped both of the books back into his backpack and started to work his way back to the playground.
“Hey buddy,” a voice behind him called out.
Dominic turned, irritated that someone had found his secret place. “What the hell do you want?” he demanded. All the camaraderie he’d felt back in the classroom for these two boys who could do math as quickly as he could vanished. They’d invaded his space and he came out fighting, defending his turf.
The dark haired boy just stood there staring at him for a long moment. “I’m Zayn and this is Angelo,” he said, his thumb pointing to the kid that had just come into the classroom right before recess. “You got something from Ms. Novak. We want in.”
Dominic shoved his backpack further onto his back, his grip tightening on the strap. “Get your own. She only gives these things out to me.”
Angelo stepped forward, extending his hand politely but without any expression on his dark features. Dominic’s initial reaction was to slap it away, but something in the way the kid looked at him, not down at him or up at him, but the simple fact that the two were at eye level, gave him pause. He looked behind the first one at the dark haired guy. “What do you want?”
The only reaction to Dominic’s hostility was a slight raising of a black eyebrow. No other movement, no change in posture. It was almost as if Angelo hadn’t moved, hadn’t heard the challenge in Dominic’s voice. “What, can’t you speak?”
Angelo stared at the other boy, not sure exactly what to say. He was the new kid on the block and he’d never had many friends. He didn’t need them. So instead of answering, he simply stepped around the other two boys and walked away.
Dominic watched, feeling bad all of a sudden. He hadn’t meant for Angelo to give in so easily. All three of them looked pretty scruffy, and he got the sense that the new kid really needed a friend. So why had Dominic been so hostile?
With a sigh, Dominic pulled his eyes away from Angelo’s retreating back and knew that he wasn’t going to be able to ignore Zayn’s outstretched hand. There was just something in Zayn’s features that struck him, as if they were kindred souls. But Dominic knew that wasn’t the case. This other boy had a mom. Dominic’s mother had just up and left one day, leaving him and his dad to fend for themselves. At least, that’s the story his father told him right before he took another swig of the gin and ignored Dominic.
“I’m Dominic,” he finally said, shaking the other boy’s hands.
Dominic noticed that Zayn didn’t have dirt under his fingernails and his hands were relatively clean. Maybe that’s what a mother did, he thought as the two of them eyed each other up and down. Maybe their job was to make sure their son’s hands were clean. He wouldn’t mind that too much, all things considered.
“So what did she give you?” Zayn asked, walking beside Dominic as they worked their way quickly back to the school yard.
Dominic shook his head. “Ask her.”
Back in the classroom, Dominic looked at both Angelo and Zayn, wondering about both of them. He actually felt guilty about the way he’d treated Angelo, but wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it. He’d never really had friends because the other kids in his class were so much smaller than he was. Dominic didn’t understand it all, so he’d just found refuge in reading.
Which begged the question, why would these two guys want to hang out with him? All three of them had dark hair and they were similar in build, but other than that, they probably didn’t have much in common. Okay, so they all went to the same school and probably lived in the same neighborhood, or at least close to each other. That was pretty much a given since all the kids in this school lived in the general area surrounding the school. There were a couple of neighborhoods a few streets over that had nicer houses, but those parents insisted that their kids attend the elementary school in another area. Apparently, those parents didn’t want their kids associating with Dominic’s neighborhood.
He didn’t mind not associating with the kids with money, he thought. The classrooms were overcrowded already. There were more than forty students in his home room class and Ms. Novak had trouble getting everyone to pay attention most days. Adding a whole new neighborhood wouldn’t help anything.
Even Dominic had to admit that the streets around here were pretty tough. He’d figured out that most of the smaller kids avoided him and he avoided most of the bigger kids. Thankfully, he was growing tall enough that there weren’t many kids larger than he was lately.
Turning to this new guy, he tentatively told Zayn what Ms. Novak had given him earlier today. “She gave me a geometry book,” Dominic explained.
He felt the other guy’s eyes straining, almost bulging out. “What’s geometry,” Zayn asked, whispering as if it were something naughty.
Dominic couldn’t hide his excitement any longer. He was too fascinated by the book and all he’d learned in the last hour. “It’s how to calculate shapes basically,” he explained. “But it goes into more detail, like….” And he started listing the different shapes, areas and perimeters, square footage and volume, and things he’d absorbed during recess.
The other students watched with growing horror as the two biggest students in the school walked back into the classroom, apparently oblivious to their concern. It irked Suzy and Jenny, since they were also the cutest boys in the school. Well, there was that new guy, they both realized at the same time. He was still all alone.
Dominic took his seat in the back of the classroom, feeling better all of a sudden about life in general. And then his eyes slid to the new guy and that optimistic feeling plummeted again. He felt guilty? Since when did he ever feel guilty?
Dominic was impatient for the final bell to ring. He wanted out of school, feeling uncomfortable because of what he’d done to Angelo.
Dominic continued to scan the other students barreling out of the school. Some of them were heading home to do their homework, but most would just hang out with their older brothers or sisters along the street or in the park down on the corner. Some might even have a job that would enable them to earn some extra cash for the family.
“He went out the back,” Zayn explained, suddenly standing next to Dominic. Dominic did a double take at the other boy’s appearance. “Where did you….?” He started to ask, then shook his head. “Who went out the back?” he asked.
Zayn’s head jerked backwards. “Angelo. He’s the other new guy that came into the classroom today. He went out the back door of the school.”
Dominic straightened away from the brick wall and pulled his backpack higher. “I should be getting home.”
“I live in the building next to yours,” Zayn explained. “My mom and I moved in this past weekend and I saw you walking to school the past few days.”
That relieved one of Dominic’s worries. At least this other kid wouldn’t judge him for where he lived. If they both lived in the same rundown neighborhood where the rats actually had the best part of the building, neither one had a very good life. “What does your mother do?” he asked.
“She cleans houses when she can,” Zayn said.
“And your dad?” Dominic prompted.
The other boy shrugged. “He’s gone.”
Dominic was silent for a long time. “So’s my mom,” he finally said.
The two boys walked down the sidewalk, their eyes automatically scanning the streets for trouble. It wasn’t that they were professionally trained to survey the neighborhood for possible problems. Not at ten years old. It was just that, growing up in this neighborhood, one learned early on to be fully aware of one’s surroundings. Trouble could spring up from the street or a doorway. It never hurt to be hyper vigilant.
As soon as they rounded the corner, Dominic’s fury just about exploded. Surrounded by six teenage boys, all taller and meaner, was Angelo and he was standing by himself, obviously prepared to defend his right to walk down the sidewalk. Dominic and Zayn both dropped their backpacks at the same moment, hurrying forward to rush the teenagers.
“What are you doing?” Dominic demanded with a furious growl, standing right behind the black haired boy he’d spurned just hours ago.
The teenage boys looked at the three younger kids, scoffing at their stand together, suddenly noticing how large the three of them were. “What are you guys? Freaks of nature? What are you, fifteen?”
Fortunately at that same moment, a police officer’s cruiser turned the corner. The six teens slapped each other in the middle of their chest, moving off quickly.
As soon as the teens moved far enough away, the three boys relaxed their posture, taking a deep breath. “Thanks,” Angelo said to the other two boys, picking up the threadbare pillow case that contained his books and homework.
Dominic eyed the kid, that horrible feeling returning. “Sorry about earlier,” he commented, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Both he and Zayn fell into step with Angelo as they walked down the street towards their homes.
Angelo shook his head, dismissing the incident. “No sweat,” the other boy replied. The three of them walked off, shoulder to shoulder and all three felt different now, somehow connected in a way that hadn’t been there when they woke up earlier that morning.
Five Years Later….
Dominic whistled softly. Briefly. Keeping his back to the concrete wall, he watched a moment longer just to be sure. He saw the slight movement which indicated that his whistle had been heard. He then turned his head towards the other direction, watching. Waiting. When he saw the signal himself, he leapt forward and grabbed the box. Angelo and Zayn were right behind him, but no one walking on the street would be able to see any of them. It was a well-orchestrated process they’d done over and over again. Theft was not a way of life. It was a way of survival on these streets. Over the years, the trio had worked out the kinks in their process, fine-tuned the route, and knew exactly where each other was at any given moment. They had backup plans, contingency routes, escape methods and hideaways.
Ten minutes later, Dominic plunked his box down next to Angelo’s and Zayn’s pilfered box. “What did we get?” he asked eagerly, taking the box cutter off of the makeshift shelf they’d constructed from dumped items. The warehouse in which they’d set up their headquarters had been abandoned several decades ago by the owners and police. Now it just smelled bad, but it was a perfect place for the three of them to meet, since only the rats dared to come through this building.
Dominic opened the box and pulled out a bottle. “What the hell is ‘Enfamil’?” he asked, looking at the label with growing horror.
Zayn took the bottle out of Dominic’s hand and read through the label himself. “It’s baby food, you idiot,” he said and plunked the bottle back into the box.
Dominic rolled his eyes. “A whole night wasted for baby formula,” he groaned. “What do you guys have?” he asked.
They’d each stolen a box from the back of a truck of stolen boxes. Mr. Zantini regularly had these early morning deliveries and, since there wasn’t an inventory of the truck’s contents, Mr. Zantini never knew that three or four of his boxes went missing each time. Nor could the merchant report any thefts since the entire truck of merchandise had been stolen.
Dominic unloaded the box, filling up the shelves with the other items they hadn’t yet disbursed. There were tall shelves all around the abandoned warehouse forming long aisles. There were stereos, receivers and other electrical equipment as well as music CDs and DVDs. Those would all be sold for cash. “Don’t forget that Mr. Miller needs money to pay for that broken leg. His car insurance company didn’t pay for some of the hospital fees,” Zayn said as they unloaded their current loot.
There were also food aisles but they didn’t sell that. No, food was too precious to sell. And then there were the clothing and miscellaneous aisles. Those weren’t sold either. They weren’t as precious as the food, but all of it was desperately needed around the neighborhood.
“Ms. Rosenberg’s daughter just had a baby,” Angelo commented and opened his own box. It was filled with diapers. Zayn’s box had peanut butter.
“Get rid of that stuff,” Dominic stated emphatically as he turned his head away. “I hate peanut butter.”
Zayn laughed and smacked his friend on the back. “Why? Because it’s all you eat lately?” he scoffed.
Dominic punched Zayn on the arm, refusing to acknowledge the question. “It stinks,” was all he said.
Angelo watched as Dominic hefted the box onto his shoulders, looking worried. He too lifted his box onto his shoulders, following Zayn and Dominic out the door. On the way out, he grabbed a can of tuna fish from a stack on one of the shelves and slipped it into his back pocket.
The three moved silently down the street, knowing that they were carrying stolen goods and not wanting to be caught. Dominic had been snared by a police officer once and it had been a terrifying ordeal. For all three of them. Zayn and Angelo had each come to the police station as soon as each heard. Unfortunately, they came at different times and gave the arresting officer different alibies for where Dominic had been during the time of the theft. So the police officer didn’t believe either of them. The only way the charges were dropped was when several others in the neighborhood came to the police station and talked to the officer, relating various stories about the three boys. Everyone knew Dominic, and none would allow the officer any peace until the boy was released.
Although that incident had ended well, being caught again with the stolen goods in their hands would be more of a challenge. Moving as silently as possible, the three of them walked quickly to the building where the Rosenberg’s lived, easily disabling the lock on the building’s front door with a couple pieces of wire and then finding the correct apartment. They placed the boxes in front of the door, and then rang the bell. The three of them ran as quietly as possible to safety before the door was opened by a sleepy resident, most likely wielding a weapon of some kind. Only a fool would open one’s door unarmed in the middle of the night in this neighborhood.
Once back out on the street and down the corner where they couldn’t be associated with the delivery, they joked back and forth about the week’s events. Dominic teased Angelo about Jocelyn Myer’s interest in him. Zayn related Jenny Mitchell’s tale of beating Dominic at the math quiz (as if that could really happen). And the three reminisced about Zayn’s mother’s meatloaf the other night. They said it had been horrible, but both Dominic and Angelo asked when she might be making it again.
At the next corner, the three of them parted ways to find their own beds. It had been a good night and they slept easily, relieved that they could relax the following morning.
Dominic woke before his father the next day, running a hand through his emerging beard and the already bulging muscles on his chest and abdomen. He wasn’t aware of the girls outside on the street who had been sitting there for the past two hours, just waiting to get a look at him as he walked by the windows. Curtains were something that only Zayn’s household had. It would never occur to Dominic or his father to cover the drafty windows with fabric. Two men lived here, why would they?
And he didn’t hear their sighs of happiness as he guzzled a glass of the freshly mixed, powdered milk, grimacing at the lumps that hadn’t completely dissolved in the water.
With resignation, he opened one of two kitchen cabinets, prepared to endure yet another peanut butter sandwich. It was all he and his father could afford right now. He had a peanut butter sandwich morning, noon and night towards the end of the month because there was so little money left. But as he stared, the heavenly manna sat on the shelf. One, lone can of tuna! He grabbed the can, looking behind him as if someone were going to snatch it out of his hand for some reason. Which was ridiculous because his father was still snoring off his previous night’s inebriation.
With excitement, he opened the can and grabbed a fork, scrubbing the utensil before using it. He regularly cleaned the household dishes, but it wasn’t unheard of for his father to use a dish or fork and simply put it back in the drawer, still dirty. Ever since Dominic had met Zayn, or more specifically, Zayn’s mother, he had learned to clean. He cleaned his fingernails and hands, his clothes were washed down at the Laundromat despite his father’s irritation at spending money on useless washing, and he cleaned the house. It wasn’t as spotless as Zayn’s place, but it was better than it used to be. It was always nice when they spirited a can of bug spray from one of their midnight “walks”. It gave the apartment a few weeks of cockroach free living.
Sydney’s Story….
Five year old Sydney stared at the man’s face. She had no idea how old he was, but the skin around his eyes and mouth was wrinkled, like he needed to stretch it out more. And he hunched over slightly. Was he tired? She couldn’t figure it out. He sat in the pew to the right of her and looked so sad, so achingly desolate. Had someone in his family died recently perhaps?
The minister said something else, but she didn’t hear the words. Her eyes moved on to the woman in front of her and slightly to the left. She wore earrings that at some point had been painted gold, but the color was now flaked off, making the jewelry appear cheap. She held her head high though, rigidly so. It was almost as if she had to hold her head up higher than the others so they wouldn’t know how heavy her steel earrings were. That seemed a bit silly to her, but she loved watching people.
It was better when they were singing or talking. She loved to hear their voices, to watch their eyes. Just sitting here in church seemed like such a silly waste of time and no one talked except for the very loud man up in the front of the church.
The choir was pretty interesting. They sat behind the minister and she loved watching their faces when they sang. There was one lady who smiled all the time while singing, even when the words to the song were sad. And there was another woman who closed her eyes during certain words.
That seemed kind of silly to her, but she just loved it all anyway. The men were harder to read, but even they had little expressions that she liked to watch. One man was obviously in love with the woman in the front row of the choir but she didn’t know the man existed. At least, that’s what Sydney saw. She also knew that adults kept a lot of secrets so maybe the woman in the front of the choir new the man behind her was watching her. And the two of them shouldn’t look at each other because one would reveal the secret.
She sighed, then froze when her mother’s hand moved over hers. She’d been fidgeting again. It didn’t matter that she was bored out of her mind, her mother made her go to church. Every Sunday, the same thing. Just sitting here, listening to someone talk and watching the people. She wondered if she would ever have the ability to hide her feelings, to sit so still for such long periods of time.
She doubted it. She couldn’t think of a single reason to hide feelings from someone. Like right now, all she wanted to do was go outside and play on the playground. She could imagine herself flying through the air on the swing set, letting the breeze blow her hair all around her face, feeling the fear as she traveled backwards, then forwards again, pushing higher and higher. There were times she just knew that, if she pushed the swing high enough, her toes could touch the clouds above her.
That, or she’d swing all the way over the top of the swing set. That wouldn’t be fun, she thought with a new perspective on the activity.
Slides! Now those were fun. Unless Annie Maclevene was at the playground as well. Annie was too slow and she went down inch by inch. Sydney preferred to race from the top of the slide to the bottom as fast as possible. She didn’t care that there wasn’t any grass at the bottom of the slide anymore. Her bottom had lots of cushion, or so her momma said, so she’d just fall on her bottom and run back around to the ladder for her next turn down the slide.
Three days later, Sydney came home from school but there was something different in the atmosphere. Something was wrong. She looked at her father, who should be at work. “Where’s momma?” Sydney asked.
Donald Watson bent down and scooped up his daughter. “I’m afraid she’s going to be gone for just a few days,” he said, trying to hide the sadness in his eyes but Sydney saw it anyway.
Sydney put her chubby hand against his whiskered cheek. “Are you okay?” she asked, seeing the redness around his eyes.
“I’m fine, sweety.” The doorbell rang and her father set her down on her feet. She walked to the entryway, hiding behind one of the half-walls so she could see the person at the door but not let her father know she was spying. Sydney had seen the woman at the church before. She was carrying a casserole dish and Sydney wondered why. The church woman had a sad expression on her face as well. Why was everyone so upset?
Sydney walked over to the sofa and curled up in the corner. Several more people came, each with yet another casserole. And everyone was talking in whispers. Sydney started to think that perhaps someone had died. And since the only person who wasn’t here was her mother, the fear increased. Sydney didn’t want her mother to have died!
Her father picked her up and carried her to the kitchen. Together, they sat at the table, both of them picking at the barely warm casserole in front of them.
“Where’s Momma?” Sydney asked again.
Donald looked down at his little girl and tried to fight the tears once again. “She’s at the hospital, honey.”
“Why?” Sydney demanded. As far as she was concerned, people only went to the hospital when they were sick. “What’s wrong with her?”
Her father hiccupped as he tried to restrain his emotions. It wasn’t working. “Your mother had a miscarriage, Sydney. Do you know what that means?”
Sydney wasn’t sure, but she suspected that it wasn’t good. “Is she going to be okay?” she asked.
Her father nodded. “Yes. But she’s going to be pretty sad for a while. We’re going to have to take care of her. Can you help me with that?” he asked.
Sydney nodded, feeling as if her world were breaking apart. But as she watched her father’s silent tears run down his cheek and get lost in his beard, she knew that she had to help him somehow. She wasn’t sure what she could do, but she’d help him through this. He had to get through this, she thought with a deep, painful fear.
Over the next week, Sydney did everything she could to help her father cheer up. Her mother came home but she looked sad and withdrawn. Sydney looked up jokes on the internet, told her funny stories of things that had happened in school, cleaned up her room and even made the ultimate sacrifice. She ate her broccoli!
Unfortunately, even that didn’t cheer up either of her parents.
By the end of that week, she was sick of casseroles in general and chicken divan in particular. She wanted desperately to have things back the way they were before. She still didn’t understand what a miscarriage was, or why it had made her parents sad, but she couldn’t make them laugh again. So instead of trying, she simply curled up next to her mother each night, a book on both of their laps and read silently.
After a while, it seemed to help. By the end of the second week, she was reading next to her mother and smiled when her mother’s fingers moved through her hair. Just like she used to do. By the end of that month, Sydney couldn’t eat any more broccoli and snuck it under the table to Muffin, the dog. Of all the things that she’d tried, that seemed to do the trick. Not because her mother or father saw her. Muffin just hated broccoli as much as Sydney did. Instead of eating the broccoli, Muffin had taken each of the offerings and hidden them away. Unfortunately, Muffin hid them in the sofa!
When Sydney came home from school the following day, her mother was standing at the door waiting. “Sydney Watson!” she snapped, her green eyes glaring down at her. “Do you have an explanation for this?” her mother demanded, holding out her hand with the now-dried broccoli.
Sydney couldn’t stop the grimace as she looked at the disgusting, no-longer-green broccoli. “Muffin did it,” she said with complete honesty.
Sydney’s mother stared down at her daughter for a long, silent moment. There was a tension in the air as Sydney’s legs trembled in fear for what her mother might say next. But when her mother burst out laughing, grabbing Sydney up into her arms, Sydney couldn’t hide the relief she felt. It was the first time her mother had hugged her since she’d gone to the hospital. Her mother laughed and laughed, hugging her close. In the end, Sydney found herself sitting on the counter, eating forbidden cookies with her mother all afternoon and just talking.
