Sinister - 8. Chapter 8

Upstairs at the church, Mr. Norton handed paperwork to the four new arrivals seated around the table in a room that was furnished as a lounge. A small kitchen occupied one wall.

“We’ve managed to streamline the process of getting kids accepted into the foster care system. You’ll be meeting with someone from a State agency soon. We can guide you through that meeting. You’ll probably end up in a foster family, although the church is registered as a congregate care facility and you could actually stay here as long as you like. We have some dorm-style rooms I’ll show you when we’re done with the paperwork. We will provide meals, but they’re pretty basic. If you need anything, clothes or school supplies or toiletries, ask at the front desk and we’ll see what we can do.

“I assume you’re all in school. We’ll get you registered in the Blythe school district. And we’ll be contacting potential foster parents as soon as someone from the State has met with you.

“Part of the documentation we’re required to provide is evidence that you came from an abusive situation, and that it was not safe to stay there. Can we talk about that?”

Sam raised his bandaged wrist. Naomi said, “We were lefty-bashed.”

Mr. Norton sat back. “All of you?”

Noah nodded. “Four jocks drove up and started in. One had a baseball bat. Our friend Glen is still in the hospital back there. The head of the church is trying to tell everyone that the jocks acted in self-defense against our terrible powers of witchcraft.”

“You know how we are.” Ruth smiled grimly. “Always causing trouble.”

Mr. Norton was taking notes. He turned to Sam. “We’ll need to arrange a follow-up appointment for your wrist, I assume. We can do that at the University hospital. UC Blythe has a very good clinic. Now, how about your parents? How was the situation with them?”

“Mine actually kind of came around at the end. Once they realized it wasn’t safe for me in Hillcrest, they helped me get out. Oh, and I promised to call them. Of course I’ll call collect. Can I do that from the office?”

“Yes, just ask Mrs. Henderson at the front desk. Is that something you want to do today?”

“No, Mr. Tubman will tell them we’re OK. I’ll wait a couple of days.”

“All right. Let me show you all to your rooms, and then if you like you can hang out here in the lounge until the church supper at six. If you’re starved for entertainment, there’s a computer and a TV over there, and a bunch of DVDs.”

“DVDs?” Ruth’s jaw dropped. “How does it work?”

“Seriously? You didn’t have DVDs?”

Noah was heading for the computer. “No movies, no television, no radio, no cell phones, no Internet. We had a couple of very old computers. What’s this thing?” he asked, picking up the mouse.

Mr. Norton was shaking his head. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’d heard about the situation in Hillcrest, but it’s weird to see kids who know less about computers than I do.” He gave Noah a one-minute tutorial on pointing, clicking, and double-clicking, and what various icons meant, and Noah launched himself headlong into cyberspace.

Naomi was fiddling with the DVD player. Ruth was looking over the DVDs. “Wow. Wow. The Lord of the Rings. They wouldn’t even let us read the book in Hillcrest. Pride and Prejudice? There’s a movie of Pride and Prejudice? Harry Potter, whoever that is. Looks like he made a lot of movies. The Simpsons, First Season. Would the first season be winter or spring? Spiderman? I heard a rumor about a comic book, but a movie? Oh my gosh!”

The girls had just figured out how to load discs into the player when Mr. Norton came to help. The sound came blasting out but Mr. Norton quickly subdued it. He also showed them the two pairs of headphones.

Sam was looking over Noah’s shoulder. “Don’t go so fast! I’ve barely seen a page and you go somewhere else!”

“Well, read faster!” Noah plunged ahead undeterred. He whispered, “Now search for “lefty,” and we get -- a long list. How about www.allthatsleft.com -- I wonder what that is? Double click, and... Oh, wow! Look at all this -- oh, wow!”

Mr. Norton smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Kids, your rooms?”

Noah quickly closed the browser and stood with his hands behind his back.

“Googling lefty websites already?”

Noah and Sam blushed.

“It’s a phase we all go through. Just let me show you your rooms. Then you can come back, I promise.”

Sam wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “Did you say ‘we all’?”

“Sure. I write with my right hand, but only because I had to go to school just like you. For everything else, I’m left-handed.”

Naomi covered her mouth and giggled. Noah said, “I guess we’ll have to get used to people just coming out and saying that.”

************

Sam picked an empty desk in the classroom, then sat and studied the schedule he had worked out with a school counselor. A few minutes remained before the start of class. The girl in front of him turned, smiled, and said, “Hi. I’m Miranda.”

“Sam.”

“Hi, Sam. You one of our refugees?”

“I guess so. Three of my friends and I just got here from Hillcrest in Utizona.”

“Showing your hand didn’t go over so well with the folks?”

“Showing my hand?”

“Yeah. You know. Ungloving. Coming unwrapped.” Seeing Sam still mystified, Miranda leaned forward. “When you told your parents you were left-handed.”

“Oh. Oh, I see. They sort of figured it out when my friends and I got caught listening to a lefty radio station.”

Miranda feigned shock. “Oo! Such naughty children!”

“Well, it was a big deal where we come from. Radio isn’t allowed.”

Now Miranda’s shock was genuine. “No radio? As in no reception, or not allowed?”

“Not allowed. No television, no movies, no Internet, no cell phones.”

“What?? Oh my God. You are totally the Savage from Brave New World.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s this great movie. Or maybe it was a British TV series. You’ve gotta see it -- you’ll love it. I think you should let me be your media consultant. You’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Just what Ma and Pa warned me about all my life. Movies, television, the secular world.”

Miranda was trying to suppress a laugh. “You call your parents ‘Ma’ and ‘Pa’?”

“Yes. Why? What do you call yours?”

“Mom and Dad.” Miranda backpedaled. “Don’t mind me. There’s nothing wrong with ‘Ma’ and ‘Pa.’ It’s just that it’s so... Little House on the Prairie.”

“Oh, yeah, Little House.” Sam was relieved at last to find something in common. “Those were some of the first long books I read. I think my favorite was Little House in the Big Woods.”

Miranda looked at him blankly. “There’s a book version?”

************

“Yes, Operator, I’ll accept the charges. Please put the call through.” Mr. Swift called his wife. “Sarah! I think it’s Sam on the phone!”

“Hi, Dad.”

“Sam! How are you? Is everything OK?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Everyone has been really nice. There’s just a lot to get used to. Everything’s very... different.”

“Well, it’s so good to hear from you. Just to know that you’re -- safe. Mr. Tubman told us you got there, but, you know, we worry, that’s all.”

“Everything is fine. The church provides all the basics. I’ve hardly had to touch the money you gave me. And anyway I’ve been thinking of looking for a part-time job for a little spending cash, even though they want us to focus on our schoolwork and not worry about money.”

“That sounds great. I’m going to give the phone to your Ma.”

Mrs. Swift took the handset. “Sammy! Finally!”

“It’s only been three days, Ma.”

“A lot can happen in three days. You should see this town. Half the town is arguing and the other half isn’t speaking to each other. I’m not the only one who’s mad at Farrow.”

“Well, good. Listen, Ma, I wanted to ask about something. I promised Glen I would try to get him here to Blythe. So, where do his parents stand in this fighting?”

“Oh, Mrs. Meadows is as mad as I am. Maybe madder. Glen’s still in the hospital. Did you get someone to look at your wrist?”

“I went to the University hospital here for a follow-up on my wrist, and it’s great. Much bigger than Valley Medical. Better equipped, I bet. I was wondering if maybe Mrs. Meadows could send Glen to the hospital here in Blythe if he needs specialized treatment or rehabilitation or something.”

“Oh. Oh, I see. Yes, maybe so. I’ll talk to her about it. And I will let you know what she says. You’ll call again, right?”

Mr. Swift put his hand out for the phone. “Sarah, may I talk to him again for a moment?”

“Hold on, Sam, your Pa wants to talk to you again.” She gave him the handset.

“Hello, Sam? Listen, buddy, I just want to say that I am trying to wrap my head around all this. Just be patient with me, because this is really new stuff for me, OK? I really don’t understand it. But the important thing is for you to be safe and happy. We do love you. And I’m -- I’m trying.”

“I know, Pa. I’ve had my whole life to get used to the idea. I can’t expect you to get used to it in a week.”

“Thanks. Sam, you're -- you're sure you're a lefty?"

After the briefest of pauses, Sam said, "Yes, Pa. I'm sure."

Mr. Swift could picture Sam rolling his eyes. "OK, son. I just -- I just needed to ask. Lydia’s here. She wants to talk to you.” He handed Lydia the phone.

“Hi, Sam.”

“Hey, Lydia. How was the camping trip?”

“It was good. It was fun. And then by the time we got back the whole town was upside down. It’s so exciting! Everybody’s fighting!”

“You and your poetry.”

“But it’s true! People get into shouting matches in the grocery store parking lot! And they won’t shop here, or they won’t shop there, or they won’t say more than two words if they absolutely have to talk to someone on the other side. And you know Reverend Simon at Bethel Church? He’s denouncing Farrow! Everyone’s either pro-Farrow or anti-Farrow. The whole town is, like, split down the middle!”

“You seem to be enjoying this.”

“I am! Everything was so boring before this! Ma wants to talk to you again.”

Mrs. Swift took the handset. “Sam, don’t worry about what’s happening here. And I’ll talk to Glen’s mother. You just worry about yourself. We love you and we support you.”

“Well, don’t love and support me too much. I can only stay here if I’m coming from an abusive situation.”

“Oh, is that right?”

Lydia piped up from her mother’s side, “If it’s abuse you need, just call here any time. We can give you all the abuse anybody could want.”

“Ma, tell Lydia thanks.”

Mrs. Swift was busy shooing Lydia away. “'Abusive situation.' Really. If a boy coming at you with a baseball bat isn't abusive, well, I don't know what. We love you, Sam. Be good.”

Mr. Swift called toward the phone, “Yes, Sam, be good.”

“I always am, Ma, in my way. I’ll call again next week. Bye.”