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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Leave the Pieces - 1. Luis, found

I could feel my stomach tighten as I slowly parted the blinds. It was the mistake I’d been warned it would be as the camera flashed across my face, white spots blurring my line of vision.

“Jesse, get away from there,” my mom ordered. The pinch of her fingers on my sweater sleeve said she meant business as she pulled me back from the window. A moment later she was once again standing in front of the door, her blue eye pressed against the peephole.

“What do you see?” I asked her, creeping up from behind, wanting to shove her away so I could look for myself, but knowing better.

“Will you both just knock it off?” Randy, my stepfather, sat in the brown recliner in front of the television, remote in hand. He looked rather annoyed. This was probably the one and only time since he’d moved in that he was the epitome of normal in the house. And that just wasn’t normal.

His evenly spoken voice, however, made me wonder why we’d been whispering.

“Alright. Alright.” My mother, her tone hinting that she wanted to become the voice of reason for both of us. “This isn’t helping. Jesse, why don’t we go to the kitchen and I’ll make...”

She stopped mid-sentence, just as I felt a prickling at the back of my neck. Something was happening outside. The voices had grown louder, the camera lights flashed against the blinds. I moved back to them and pushed them aside again. This time my mom was with me.

Outside, our crabgrass-free lawn was being trampled by reporters. Police lights flashed in the street, illuminating the faces of our neighbors and those of even more people who weren’t. The flashes were aimed somewhere other than on us, and I felt my mother’s small fingers close around my wrist as a blue minivan pulled up to the curb.

“Is it him?” I asked.

“Looks like it.” Randy again. Sounding bored. Though, he had left the recliner to join us at the window. I could smell the cigar he’d just lit, waved at the smoke when it drifted towards me. Sometimes I wished that he’d just go away. But at the moment, Randy and his cigars were the least of my concerns.

Mom...” I whispered. My voice felt driven by fear. It wasn’t often that I reached for my mother for anything these days. But this was different. For days my stomach had been cramping, each one worse until the pain grew to my lungs, suffocating me, the feeling stronger and stronger...

Oh my god!” She said.

If I looked, I knew my mom would be crying now. Maybe I would have hugged her or something... maybe... if I could have pried my eyes away from the scene unfolding outside.

The van door had opened. Photographers blocked my view with their flashes. But slowly the shape of a plump woman in a black coat emerged, her hand held up to block the reporters’ attempts for a better shot. She was quickly joined by a uniformed officer as they turned back to the van, and a third figure emerged. At first he was just a shadow as they headed up the front walk, ushering people out of their paths, and then only one blink later as an obscene number of cameras flashed...

Like mom said, Oh my god. He was different now. So much taller. Maybe even taller than me. Black hair tucked under a ball cap and big brown eyes taking everything in with caution while his hands kept his coat tightened closely around him, as if too aware of the breech in his personal space. His name was Luis Yenka. When we were nine years old, he was my best friend.

When we were nine years old, a man had pulled Luis into the back of his car and he disappeared.

They found him one week after my seventeenth birthday.

***

Twenty-six days earlier

Day 01

“Just stay out of this, Liz!”

“Don’t talk to her like that!” I snapped. Randy Bunger was seriously on my last nerve. High-handed, dumb-ass, self-centered son--

“Jesse, don’t shout,” my mother warned. For fuck’s sake. I felt like I couldn’t even defend her anymore.

“Then tell him to piss off!” I stated as they both followed me through the house and out the front door. “I’m so fucking sick of him!”

“That’s it,” Randy said. “Get back in here! You’re grounded.”

“Randy...” my mom said. But who knew where she was going with it. She never stood up to him. Never. Especially where I was involved.

“Liz, so help me,” Randy said. “He needs to learn his place around here, and if you won’t teach him, then I will.”

“I’m sure it was an accident, Randy. Please, just calm down. Both of you,” my mom insisted.

Randy stomped over to his piece-of-shit Ford and pointed to a minuscule dent on his back bumper. “This, was not an accident!”

Actually, it was. That minuscule dent I might have put there while pulling my own piece-of-shit Bronco into the driveway. I’d even gone to the trouble of telling him I’d done it. My mistake, since he probably never would have noticed if I hadn’t. Jackass. As soon as he went through the roof with accusations I’d decided not to argue with him. Let him think whatever the fuck he wanted to think. As long as he knew we were enemies.

“I’m sure it was,” my mom insisted. “But Jesse, you’ll have to take some responsibility here. Obviously you weren’t paying attention to what you were doing, so you’re grounded for two weeks.”

Two weeks?” Randy and I both repeated, both outraged. Both for different reasons.

“You think that’s a punishment?” Randy demanded.

I faced my mom, furious. “No. Fuck this. You always take his side!” I accused. “I’m out of here.”

“Jesse!” my mother shouted. But I was already heading to my car, Randy already blocking my path.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he told me, dark eyes bugging as his mustache twitched, just like it did every time he was mad. He looked over his shoulder, obviously wanting to be sure he was effectively between me and my car. Stupid. No matter how much he wanted to, we both knew he couldn’t touch me. I met his eyes evenly, shook my head, and turned to walk away.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll walk.”

“Jesse!” My mom made a grab for my shoulder, but I brushed past her knowing she’d never put any real effort into stopping me. “Jesse, please come back here.”

“Just let him go, Liz,” Randy said. “He’s probably running off to Daddy. Tell the old man I said hi,” he added condescendingly.

I lost a step, but forced myself to keep moving without looking back. My mom was already scolding him for that, not that it would do any good. Randy hated me just about as much as he hated my dad, and nothing was going to change that anytime soon. It hadn’t changed in the last year and a half.

I’ll admit I didn’t like my stepfather from the beginning. I felt like there was something just a little too convenient about the way he swooped in and proposed to my mom after a mere two months of dating. She’d said yes, despite me begging her not to, and Randy moved himself in the day after, already with the intention of moving me out. He probably figured it would have been easy, seeing how my dad lived a couple blocks away and I had a good relationship with him. But Randy hadn’t counted on my mom refusing. As much as she and I disagreed, part of me felt like I was all she had. Even with Randy there, she seemed to feel the same way. I’m sure Randy would have pushed the issue still, though, if he hadn’t discovered my mom would lose child support the minute I moved out of her house.

I guess you could say Randy and I had made it rough ever since. We couldn’t get along over anything, and I’d reached the point of taking all meals in my room, away from him. If I wanted to be honest, I’d admit that it hurt when my mom didn’t make any attempts to change this. He was her husband now, she’d say. It was the same excuse for everything. I just wondered why the hell it couldn’t matter that I was her son.

At least I still had one parent I could rely on. It really did come in handy to have my dad so close. Of course I couldn’t go see him now. Not if I was going to spite Randy. This was yet another unfortunate effect my stepfather had on me. I felt it was my duty to do the exact opposite of everything he said.

The last month of summer, and it had rained so much over the last few weeks that the lawns in the neighborhood seemed overgrown in some places; but overall, my surroundings as I headed down a chipped sidewalk, were green and fragrant. Still a few hours from sunset the sky had a warm hue to it to match the humidly warm weather that soon caused me to strip my t-shirt and tuck it into the back pocket of my jeans. I was already fuming, after all, and really didn’t need any extra help with it.

Kicking at a few rocks along the way, forcing myself to smile at neighbors, it helped to force some of the tension out of me. By the time I smelled barbeque coming from Lee Donald’s backyard I managed to cool off some.

Lee and I had been in the same classes since preschool, but I hadn’t really started hanging out with her until this year when she started babysitting my new stepsister for my dad. She was the kind of person it was easy to get along with, and every weekend that it wasn’t pouring she’d have people over for a barbeque and some backyard mini-golf. I’d been on the list for a while now, and had planned to head there, anyway. Before the mishap with Randy, of course. I liked afternoons at Lee’s. Her parents were kind but unobtrusive, and it was a good place to run into my best friends. But they weren’t the only reason why I was guaranteed to be at these barbeques.

Slipping through the oversized carport I headed to the back gate, flipping the latch on the chain link to let myself in to the area that all the chatter, smoke and music was coming from, my eyes drifting over lawn chairs around a blow-up pool until I spotted him. He met my eyes almost immediately, excused himself from two girls and flipped his blond mop of hair out of his eyes as he moved to his feet and came to greet me.

I loved Nick Kiezer’s smile. It always managed to stretch across his face below a thin nose and high cheekbones, one tooth slightly crooked, but charming, nonetheless. He was thin for his height, and had a natural swagger in his walk that was both confident and attractive, but I secretly believed it was more to keep his pants positioned on his narrow hips than anything else. He was always tugging them upwards, as he did with a wet pair of swim trunks as he reached me before I got the gate open, leaned over it and deposited a brief kiss over my mouth.

“Hey, you,” he said, leaning back, his smile faltering just a bit. “What’s wrong?”

No matter how hard I tried, I’d always had a problem with wearing my emotions on my face. Therefore, there was never a point to lying, even to save a good mood. “I’m alright,” I said. “Might need a ride home later, though.”

He glanced past me, towards the street where he and a few others had parked. I’m sure he could make a thousand guesses as to why I didn’t have my vehicle, all ending with Randy. But at least he was polite enough not to mention any of them as he opened the gate for me and stepped aside. “You got it.”

Sliding his hand onto my shoulder he led me into Lee’s backyard where faces were familiar and smiles were friendly. I liked going to Lee’s on the weekend. Everyone here knew that Nick Kiezer was my first boyfriend, and this was one of the few places where I felt free enough to act like it.

“Are you gonna swim?” he asked me.

Not that the pool counted as swimming. It was big, but not big enough when four people were already in there, splashing the water out.

“Maybe,” I replied, glancing upwards to judge how long what was left of the sun would be out. I hadn’t had a chance to grab my trunks, and unless I wanted to hang out in soggy jeans all night, I knew better. And I would likely hang out all night. No intention of heading home anytime soon here. Fucking Randy.

“Hey, Jess!” Lee waved from near the grill as she tucked her dark hair behind her ear. She wasn’t cooking. Never did. Everyone tended to leave that to Gene and Jarred Calhan, who were often referred to as the boys. You’d never believe what the boys did over the weekend. The boys are in trouble again. I heard the boys got another day of suspension for locking coach out of his office. They were stepbrothers who had become inseparable over the last six years that their parents had been married. But now talk of divorce was in the air, and neither one was taking it well. The last I’d heard Jarred’s mom was planning a move out, but he wasn’t having it, nor was Gene’s father going to allow Gene to go with Jarred and Mrs. Calhan. I guess I wasn’t the only one who felt like life at home was a mess.

“C’mon,” Nick said, giving me a shove towards our friends at the grill. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starved.”

I wasn’t hungry, but when he said he’d been waiting for me I felt obligated. Still, though, I at least got to vent a little when Lee pried it out of me. All of them knew all about Randy. Lee’s dad had worked with my stepfather on a few occasions, and even he had admitted that he couldn’t stand him and thought my mom could have done a lot better. It seemed I was in a constant state of wonder why my mom couldn’t see what everyone else could.

“If you don’t want to go home you could always stay here tonight,” Lee offered. “My parents will be okay with it.”

We were at the wobbly picnic table with Nick, Gene and Jarred. Nick pouted over the suggestion, and I knew it was because he’d much rather have me sleeping over at his place. But we both knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. His parents were all too aware of his interest in guys. He called them reluctantly supportive. As die-hard Catholics, they were against his lifestyle. As parents, they had no intention of losing their son to it. So they allowed him to be who he was, so long as they didn’t discover anything that had to do with premarital sex. They could argue that one easier, since his older sister had been forced to live up to the same rule. Sleepovers at Nick’s were definitely out. But not only that. Me at Nick’s house was out. The last thing I needed was for his parents to get any ideas about me and go calling my mom, or worse, Randy. Things were too tense as it was. Adding fuel to the fire would be a bad idea. Besides, Nick was my first boyfriend, like I said. There was plenty we got away with outside of his parents’ watchful eye, and part of me felt like for now, those things were enough.

“Thanks, Lee,” I replied. “But I think I’m okay. I could always go to my dad’s, too, but my mom would still worry.”

“Okay,” she said. “But give me a call tonight if you have any trouble.”

“Me first,” Nick insisted, shooting Lee an annoyed look. I’d met her first, and we’d become close in a short amount of time. Even though she was Nick’s friend, too, I sometimes felt like he resented my friendship with her. I just smiled at him.

“I won’t have to call you,” I told him. “I’ll need you to help me break in my window. If something goes wrong, you’ll know.”

That seemed to placate him and he grinned. “Oh yeah.”

I leaned forward to meet the kiss he intended to give me, but stopped when Gene suddenly fell backwards, off the bench. Jarred’s doing. Apparently, Gene had tossed one too many rib bones on the plate Jarred was still trying to clean. We laughed at their antics, and the five of us talked about virtually nothing for the next few hours as most of the people there left. By the time it was dark and the moon was peeking out from behind the clouds I’d pulled my t-shirt back over my head and had almost forgotten about how angry I’d been when I arrived.

It was almost ten--an hour past the curfew Randy had given me a few months ago--and I felt my eyes getting heavy as Nick’s head rested on my shoulder and we listened to Jarred and Gene argue about which two girls they should invite to homecoming once school started up again, while Lee moved back and forth from the patio to the kitchen inside, putting things away and cleaning up. I’d offered help, but as usual she insisted she was fine on her own.

Nick’s teeth closing over my earlobe made me jump, but I leaned into him as his arm came around me and he whispered in my ear. “Maybe I should just sneak you through my window tonight.”

I smiled at him, laughing it off like a joke, but I knew he was only half joking. I kissed him instead of commenting. It was the best way I knew how to change the subject from him. Our kiss turned into light, but unabashed making out, which never failed to make Gene and Jarred disappear. We only broke apart when a telephone inside the house rang and Lee’s voice followed.

“Hey, Jess? Your mom’s on the phone.”

Nick shot the other side of the screen door a dirty look, beating me to it. We were both probably wondering why on earth Lee would even tell my mom I was there. It’s not like she hadn’t covered for me before.

“Alright,” I called back, and sighed as I squeezed Nick’s shoulder as I moved from the table to stand near the screen door and wait for the phone.

I’m not sure why I didn’t think to just go in on my own. It’s not like anyone would have had a problem with it. Her family often went out of their way to welcome me. But that night I stood there on the woven mat, the feeling of it uncomfortable on my bare feet. I could hear water running from the kitchen, and see the glow of the table lamp and the television through the front door. Between them, there was Lee, stark-still with the phone in her hand. And she wasn’t moving.

“What’s going on?” Nick asked from behind me when he noticed a lack of progress.

I shrugged. “Lee?” I called.

“Yeah...” she said slowly. “Jess, come look at this.”

Glancing back at Nick as he left the table to join me I pulled open the screen door and stepped into Lee’s house. Her parents must have gone to bed because other than Lee, the living room was empty. But then, after spotting what was on the television, I probably wouldn’t have noticed them, anyway.

The screen was divided, the first half the face of a young man who looked oddly familiar. The second half the face of a young boy whom I never could have forgotten. Not with the shaggy bangs over his eyes, or the small scar above his lip as he grinned after winning our first hockey match. If I were to look closely at this particular picture, I knew I’d see another little boy, celebrating with his parents, who used to be me. Luis Yenka. Luis Yenka. “The identity of the teen facing robbery charges has been released as Luis Yenka...”

Oh god. That was his name. They were really saying his name.

 

“Police have confirmed that Luis Yenka is the kidnap victim that first went missing....”

“Holy shit,” Lee remarked, passing me the phone, which I brought to my ear without taking my eyes off the screen.

“Uh-huh,” I agreed with her.

My mom obviously thought I was talking to her. “Luis? You’ll never believe what’s on TV; you’ve gotta come home, right...”

I hung up on her when a new image appeared over the television. The same older boy being ducked into a police car as the reporter explained about a gas station robbery where two men had been shot. One had been arrested along with his accomplice, Marty Conner, who later turned out to be Luis Yenka.

I felt myself jump when Nick dropped a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, didn’t you know that kid?” Nick asked.

Lee turned around, her eyes meeting mine for a moment as if she expected me to do more than nod. When I didn’t, she looked at Nick. “Jess was the only one with him when it happened,” she said quietly. “He saw everything.”

***

Day 03

I hadn’t seen enough. For nine years I’d had to live with that. I think I deserved every bit of pain it dealt me.

My mom was famous for keeping scrapbooks. She hadn’t done much with them since Randy showed up, but as I pushed box after box aside in the attic I knew if I looked hard enough eventually I’d find the one with Luis’s face on the cover. It was the picture of him and his dad when they came on a camping trip with us to the lake. His mother had passed away long before I’d met him, but the two of them were close friends. He looked more like his dad now, I realized as I recalled pictures from the media. Same dark features. Same broad-shouldered build. Only Luis was thinner. It made him look odd, as if he was supposed to have another twenty pounds on him.

Apart from the picture on the cover, this scrapbook had nothing do with what life had been with Luis living down the street. This one was newspaper clippings and police reports. I made up a small portion of a front page story; right next to Luis’s blown-up face I stood crying between my parents. Witness. But was I?

I flipped through pages until I found what I was looking for, a knot tightening in my throat as I looked down at the police sketch of a man who had a drawn face and bags under his eyes. Thin beard and large ears. And then I held up yesterday’s paper and found myself gasping for air as I faced the man who’d just been charged with kidnapping. Arthur Brook. The sketch I’d helped the police with. Arthur Brook.

They looked nothing alike! Arthur Brook. Nine years later and he managed to look at least five years younger than how I’d portrayed him. His face was rounder, hairline a lot closer to his forehead, and...and... big ears? Where the hell had I gotten big ears from?

My eyes burned as I tossed both images away from me, and I reached for the photo at the cover of the scrapbook, tearing a corner as I drew it close. What if? Arthur Brook. What if I’d just gotten it fucking right the first time? It was so unfair that it was too late to give that question an answer. Too late to grow up with my best friend, who liked frogs. Too late for his father, who’d had enough after losing his wife and his son. Oh, Christ. Did Luis know about his dad? What if he was waiting to go home. What would happen when he realized his home was as long gone as everyone believed him to be? And it was too late for Luis to be Luis. Somehow, I already knew this. Felt it. The boy in the headlines was Marty Conner, a victim. What was left of Luis Yenka was a boy who’d lost everything. All because I couldn’t describe one man’s face.

***

Day 12

“Jess. Will you just calm the fuck down?”

I winced at the tone in my boyfriend’s voice. It wasn’t often Nick snapped at me. But lately... for almost two weeks, it seemed like everything I did annoyed the shit out of him. I didn’t blame him for this. I missed half of everything he said, forgot we were supposed to meet for a movie until he showed up at my place an hour later, and I wasn’t breaking even a small smile at any attempts he made at humor. My most recent offense, which had him glaring at me, was my inability to sit still.

Early afternoon, we’d skipped lunch to go to the park. As Nick sat calmly at a picnic table I glided back and forth in front of him on his skate board until he kicked it out from underneath me.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, taking a seat next to him. Only then I reached for the cell phone I carried around on occasion--one of the very few occasions when I didn’t mind giving my mom a way to reach me.

Nick was quick to slide his hand over the phone, drawing my eyes to his. “Stop,” he ordered.

“Sorry,” I said again.

Why the fuck was he taking my phone?

I watched as he placed it on the table. Slid it away from me. Turning towards me, he looked around to make sure we had a reasonable amount of privacy--not being in the safety of Lee’s back yard--before he slipped both of his hands over mine.

“Are you shopping with Lee?”

“Huh?” I asked.

“Back-to-school shopping,” he explained. “She was talking about it the other day.”

I repeat, huh? I hadn’t even thought of it. Besides, any shopping I did was usually with my dad. He had a checkbook and it was yet another excuse to get away from Randy. Double score.

But I understood what Nick was trying to do, and while I appreciated it, I didn’t really want my mind anywhere other than where it was.

“I don’t know yet,” I replied, and then, “Nick, what happens if they say no?”

He rolled his eyes at me. Dropped my hands. He was annoyed with me now. It made me feel bad.

“Sorry,” I said. It was like my new motto or something.

He gave my shoulder a pat. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s just... I don’t get why you’re still on this. It’s going to be fine, Jess. And it’s not like anything’s going to change, right?”

What was that supposed to mean? Didn’t he understand that regardless of what happened next, everything had already changed? Looking at him, I supposed not. His dark blue eyes had glazed over, directed at my mouth. This was classic Nick. He cared when I was unhappy, but sometimes I was under the impression that he’d rather have a good time than bother with it. I guess I was okay with it. I had a lot of fun with Nick, anyway. But sometimes I wished he’d just let me freak out. After all, when I was freaking out I had more to worry about than whether or not I was boring him. Maybe one day I’d have the guts to tell him that.

But for now, I too took a cautious look around before leaning forward to press a kiss against his mouth. His sigh was enough to tell me that I was forgiven. His curse told me he’d changed his mind about it when my phone suddenly rang and my forehead collided into his while my tooth nicked his nose in my attempt to reach it.

He got three sorrys for that before I answered the call, trying to ignore the dirty look I was getting from my boyfriend. “Hello?”

“Hey! And he lives! You’re a hard one to get a hold of, kiddo.”

“Oh. Hey, Dad.” My tone was disappointed before I could prevent it.

At least Keith Hill had a sense of humor and laughed about it. “Expecting someone else?”

“No. I mean... Mom’s supposed to be calling. We’re supposed to find out about Luis today.”

“Yeah, I was actually calling to see if you’d heard anything yet. I told your mom to let me know if she needed any help, but...”

“Randy’s a jackass,” I said bitterly.

Jesse.”

“Well he is,” I said defensively.

“I know,” my dad replied. “But if I didn’t at least try to correct you I wouldn’t be doing my job. So nothing about Luis yet?”

“No, not yet.”

I sighed, and then made the time to flash Nick an apologetic glance. He was staring at me, head cocked as if he were trying to figure out why I wasn’t trying to spend any amount of uninterrupted time with him.

“I’ll try back later,” Dad said. “At least convince me you’re doing something productive to pass the time before I hang up. Chrissy says when you stopped by earlier you were obsessing.”

I sighed. I might have been obsessing about Luis a little bit when I’d stopped by my dad’s house that morning and asked his wife if she’d seen a book I’d misplaced anywhere. No book, but she gave me pop tarts and let me vent about how everything depended on today... and my mom... and Randy. Not very promising. Figures Chrissy would mention it all to my dad.

“I’m fine,” I promised. “Just, hanging out at the park with a friend.”

My friend purposely walked his fingers up my thigh until his hand rested less than an inch away from my groin, making me fidget as I placed my hand over his to prevent him from going any farther. At least while I had family on the phone.

“Nick again?” my dad asked.

“Yep. Just hanging out. Um, I’ll call you as soon as I hear from Mom, okay?”

“Alright. Will you be over for dinner this weekend?”

“And probably breakfast in the morning,” I said.

“Cool. We’ll make a night out of it, okay, kiddo?”

“Sounds good, Dad.”

“Call me if you need anything,” he made me promise before we hung up, and the moment we did I turned my attention back to Nick.

“So does this mean we aren’t hanging out this weekend?” he asked, giving my thigh a squeeze.

“No,” I said quickly. “It’s just one night with my dad.”

“You’re over there every weekend.” I heard no complaint in his voice, but I still found myself growing defensive.

“Yeah... and every other night I’m stuck at home with Randy. Besides, you like it when I’m at my dad’s,” I pointed out with a smile, allowing my mood to grow lighter.

“That’s true,” Nick admitted, leaning forward for yet another kiss.

It’s not that my dad knew we were anything more than friends, but it was much easier to hang out with my friends over there, period. At least when I had people over at his place, he acted like he was happy that I had friends.

“Look,” I said. “I know I’ve been... distracted. You know I’m not trying to blow you off, right?”

My phone picked a really, really bad time to ring again. To my credit, I tried very hard not to reach for it. But...

“It’s my mom,” I announced.

Nick rolled his eyes. “Just answer it.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

“What did they say?” was the first thing out of my mouth.

“Jesse?”

Yes,” I said, exasperated. “Mom, what did they say?”

“Well...”

I bit back a few curses, knowing full well letting them out would draw this on even longer. “Mom, please, did they say where he’ll be going?”

She laughed. I’m so glad she was having fun with this. Grr!

But finally, “It was a good meeting, Jesse,” she said in all seriousness. “Looks like there’s a very good chance he’s coming here.”

I closed my eyes to catch the sudden moisture forming there. Refused to open them again until it was gone. It occurred to me I was holding my breath. I couldn’t bring myself to let it out, and I felt my palm sweating where it held Nick’s hand. Shaky. Anxious. I was both of those things. And so, so relieved.

But I didn’t let it show as I hung up with my mother. Instead I forced a smile in Nick’s direction, and pretended to be interested in everything other than Luis Yenka for the first time in weeks.

***

Day 17

I was a rotten sonofabitch. I realized this as I stacked new boxes in the attic from the spare bedroom, feeling happy that Luis had no family who could take him on. I made myself sick with the thought. Sick and guilty. But I couldn’t talk myself out of it because I was happy. Because it all meant that he was coming here.

His grandmother, who was too ill to care for him, and the aunt busy with four children under the age of five had all vouched for us. Or, at least my mom. It made things a little easier with the social workers. But that didn’t mean we didn’t have one person after another snooping through our home and interviewing every single one of us.

Randy was through the fucking roof about it, which is probably what kept me in an upbeat mood every time someone asked me how my family life was. I’d been told to be honest, but I think I would have said anything to know that Luis wasn’t going to disappear again.

When we were finally told that he was coming, Randy hadn’t seemed thrilled about that either. But this was one thing he wouldn’t win with my mom on. When we were little she called us both her kids, and now that she knew he was back she tended to burst into tears at random. Randy hated that, too.

During our last meeting with a counselor who’d actually seen Luis we were told that he wouldn’t be the same boy we remembered. We knew it, but I can’t say that made it easier to hear. He was coming with virtually nothing, which had my mom running off on constant shopping sprees, which pissed off Randy. It pissed Randy off even more when he found out my dad was the one financing a few of these trips.

For once my stepfather got no rude comments from me. I just wanted Luis to get there. I wanted to know he was real.

I wanted to know he was still my friend.

I’d wasted no time clearing out the room across from mine. Between both my parents’ respective homes, there were plenty of ways to furnish it, so I recruited Lee and her mom’s truck to help me move a spare bed from my dad’s house to my mom’s. It took the two of us to get the rails put together, but once both the box spring and the mattress were in place we plopped down on the full-sized bed as if putting it together had been as difficult as a marathon after a pack of cigarettes.

“What else is going in here?” Lee asked as she turned over onto her stomach, propping her chin up on her elbow. Her hair was in a messy knot on top her head, and her t-shirt had grease stains on it. She called it her work shirt. I think she secretly liked looking messy.

“Um... my mom’s picking him up some clothes,” I said.

“Hmm... wish there was more we could do,” Lee said quietly. “You don’t know what he likes, do you?”

“Frogs,” was the first thing that came to mind, but before I was finished saying it, I felt the sadness that had been haunting me over the last weeks creeping up again. “But that’s when we were kids... I don’t really know what he’s into now.”

He wasn’t the same Luis.

I didn’t know where to begin sorting that out.

Hell, I didn’t go off trying to catch frogs anymore either, but if Luis was back, the one that was my friend, I’d go looking for frogs with him. I’d ride a bike through the mud before Sunday brunch, risking a grounding and I’d play Old Maid and Go Fish. Just like eight years ago.

It hit me, that in my mind Luis was still an eight-year-old boy. Part of me expected him to be no different than the day he left. It was nothing more than a delusion, and the reality of that sank in faster than I could cope with. I could feel a swelling ache in my head as each breath I took became harder, and the next thing I knew I was purposely looking away from Lee, shielding myself, or perhaps her, any way I could from the sudden wetness in my eyes that blurred my sight.

“Stupid,” I mumbled, though I didn’t know if I was talking about my emotional outburst or the idea of Luis still being interested in frogs. It didn’t seem to matter to Lee as I felt her hands move over my shoulders and her supportive kiss on my cheek.

“It’s not stupid,” she said quietly. “Actually, I think he’d like that.”

I sniffed back my emotions, determined to keep them in check. “Huh?”

“The frog,” she said. “Let’s get Luis a frog.”

Taking a breath, deciding I’d regained control, I felt myself laugh as I turned to meet her eyes. “Get him a frog? For here?” If she knew my mother, she’d understand the absurdity of anything that lived in a swamp living in our home.

“I have a little terrarium at home,” she said, shrugging. “I didn’t have much luck keeping lizards alive when I was little. Come on, let’s go get him a frog.”

“A frog,” I repeated as I let the idea grow on me.

Lee smiled. “Definitely a frog.”

***

“Don’t you dare! Jesse, I mean it, no frogs!”

I rolled my eyes at the way my mom’s voice came through the cell phone as Lee and I walked from the smoothie shop to the reptile store she’d told me about. I’d made two mistakes in the last two minutes. The first was answering the phone when my mom called. I hadn’t checked who it was first only because I’d just called Nick to see if he wanted to join us now that the heavy lifting was done, and I assumed it was him calling me back. I was wrong, and soon made my second mistake of being honest with my mother about what I was up to.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” I told her. “It’s not like you’ll ever have to see it.”

“That’s not the point. I said no.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’ll keep it at Dad’s house and you can explain to Luis why Dad’s cooler than you are.”

I hung up on her. It was the only way I’d get in the last word, and at the moment I felt I really needed it. I didn’t feel sorry about playing the dad card, either. If my mom was going to put her foot down about something it should be something good... like telling Randy’s fat ass not to smoke in our house anymore.

As I slid my phone back into my pocket Lee regarded me with a small, understanding smile. She was used to my relationship with my mom. “We can always wait on it,” she said. “We can get the terrarium set up and bring Luis to pick one out when he gets here... she isn’t going to say no to him.”

Assuming Luis even wanted a frog.

“Good point,” I replied. “But I’d rather do it now.”

“Your funeral,” she remarked as I moved ahead of her and opened the door to our destination. There was a bell attached to the handle, and it rang as we stepped inside the long, rectangular room filled with walls of aquariums, drawing attention from the guy behind the counter. Wavy blond hair framed a face of dark eyes and sharp brows, and an approachable, bright smile spread over his mouth as his eyes fell on Lee and he plucked the speakers connected to an ipod from his ears.

“Hey!” he said.

“You still work here!” Lee said, obviously pleased by this news as I watched him walk around the counter to give her a hug. I found myself staring at the line of earnings that climbed up his lobe when he pushed his hair behind it, finding something about him familiar, but unable to place it.

“Where else would I get paid to hang out with creepy-crawly things?” he remarked. “Did you come in here looking for me?”

“No,” Lee replied, unapologetic. “You’re just an added bonus.” She looked at me. “Jess, this is Logan. He played dolls with me when we were two. Logan, Jess; he needs a frog for his friend.”

Logan looked at me. “Okay. Any idea what your friend wants?”

“I’m not even sure he wants a frog.” I admitted.

“Oh, stop,” Lee chided, afraid I’d fall back into my darker mood. “Of course he’ll want a frog. What’ve you got, Logan?”

“Well... I guess it depends,” he said, his attention still on me. “We’ve got dwarfs, which aren’t much harder to take care of than goldfish...”

Lee and I exchanged a look. Lee did the responding for us. “We’re looking for something that isn’t as boring as goldfish,” she said.

Logan smiled. “Okay... I’ve got some tree frogs that are good for beginners. They can be handled, they’re kinda fun to watch... and definitely cute.”

“Can any of them turn into a prince?” Lee wanted to know.

Logan shrugged. “Maybe if you kiss the right one.”

She playfully punched his arm. “Show us what you’ve got.”

Logan waved us to follow as he led us towards the back of the store, warning us to carefully step over the large tortoise roaming freely through the aisles. But he wasn’t talking frogs as much as he was asking Lee questions, such as where she’d been and if she’d heard from other names that I didn’t know.

“Don’t put that on me,” she said when he mentioned he was offended that she hadn’t called. He looked and sounded like he was joking, but Lee seemed serious. “You’ve changed your number so many times that I don’t think I even have it anymore. Besides, you know where I live and you’re welcome to show up any time.”

He made an odd face, as if he didn’t quite believe her. “Yeah... well, I like to be cautious.”

Lee rolled her eyes at that while he used a key to unlock a glass door, and then suddenly he was turning towards me and depositing a small, and yes, horribly cute, little frog into my hand. “I’d go with these guys,” he said. “I’ve got eight.”

I found myself smiling at the little thing, thinking that even my mom would find it cute. “Maybe we should get two...” I started, but my phone ringing again stopped me mid-sentence. Hoping it was Nick, I passed the frog back to Logan and reached for it, checking this time. It wasn’t Nick, but it wasn’t a call I felt like ignoring, either. “Hey, Dad,” I answered.

“Jesse...” he said, his tone too dire for me to take seriously. “You’re giving your mother a headache.”

I groaned. “She called you?”

And said she wants me to back her up... so no frogs.”

“You can’t be serious,” I complained.

I heard my dad sigh. “Just... do me a favor and listen to her, alright? Maybe when you come by next weekend we’ll talk about it and try to get one for over here.”

“But it’s for Luis,” I said.

“Luis is welcome over here, too,” he said. “Just... promise. No frog.”

Frowning, I rolled my eyes at the situation. “Fine. No frog. Promise.”

“Thank you. I’ve gotta go, work is calling. I’ll call you back tonight.”

“Alright,” I said, and hung up to face Lee’s disappointed look and Logan’s sympathetic one.

“Parents are a bitch,” he remarked as he put the little frog back in its home.

“Tell me about it,” I agreed. “So... can you show me some snakes?”

***

Day 25

The guest bathroom in my dad’s three-story home was like a safe haven. The tub had jets, and I never failed to take advantage of them. There were so many mirrors that I could see myself naked from six different angles, but as I stood in the steamed room, drying off, the last thing I wanted to do was look at myself. I’d see something pathetic, disgusting... guilty.

It wasn’t a good day. The morning had fooled me into thinking otherwise when we’d received a phone call from the social worker who’d found a temporary place for Luis to stay when no one in his family could take him in. It had been her hope, and ours, that he’d talk to us before he came home. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to.

And that hadn’t been the first time. My mom hadn’t bothered to tell me that they’d been trying to get him to take a phone call since she’d expressed her interest in taking him in. They’d wanted to arrange meetings. But Luis had apparently been adamant about not wanting to see anyone after a short visit with his grandmother. I’d spent all day trying to figure out what that meant.

What would he do when he got here?

Did he even want to come here?

The conclusions I came up with were devastating. I tried to relieve my mind of it on a date with Nick, but this was the day he’d had enough of me worrying about Luis and walked out on me halfway through it. I’d made my way over to Lee’s, and then to my dad’s where I’d decided to stay the night. I couldn’t handle my mom right now. Really couldn’t handle Randy.

Besides, it was time to feed the snake.

My father, his family--they’d gone to bed hours ago. I was quiet after I pulled on a pair of shorts and headed back to the room I used whenever I was there. Atop the dresser was the terrarium Lee had helped me with, and in it the young ball python Logan had tried to talk me out of purchasing.

“This guy deserves a home,” he’d told me. “It’s not a good form of revenge against your parents.”

He’d probably lost some respect for me when I wouldn’t give up, but then, he didn’t know my dad wouldn’t ever make me get rid of it. But still, I’d promised Lee’s old friend that if it ever came to that, I’d let him buy the snake off me. Who knows, maybe it would come to that as soon as my mom figured out I still fully planned to give it to Luis, in her house.

I went about feeding it, following the exact instructions Luis had given me, and sat on my bed wondering if Luis would enjoy things like this. I kept telling myself that a phone call meant nothing. I just wanted to make him feel welcome when he arrived. If I could do that, everything would be okay.

Wouldn’t it?

I wanted a second opinion. My first instinct was to call Nick. I needed him to tell me I was worrying over nothing. I needed him to make me laugh. But then I remembered that was the last thing he was willing to do if it had any ties to Luis Yenka.

I wouldn’t be sleeping very much tonight. I wondered if Luis and I had that in common.

***

Day 26

It took the next two hours for the press to clear out, at least the ones still hopeful for some kind of statement. It took two hours for me to breathe again, and even then, I wasn’t sure I remembered how to. I didn’t remember how to do a lot of things, like attempt to reconnect with my best friend.

I hadn’t dared to hug him. I’d wanted to. I’d wanted to hug him and bombard him with a million questions. The look that had crossed his face--that pained, furious look--when my mom had hugged him was warning enough that it would be a bad idea.

So I’d said hello. I did, when my mom said, “Jess, aren’t you going to say hello?”

Luis wouldn’t even look at me.

“Hello.” I’d said it.

Then I followed, not knowing what else to do as Randy and my mother showed him his room, his clothes, everything that was his, yet as unfamiliar to him as we had become.

Leanne Osie, the social worker, had taken Randy aside at some point while my mom sat with Luis at our oval-shaped dining-room table, serving him tea that was meant to be calming and cookies she’d bought and claimed to have made herself. He hadn’t touched either. I kept glancing between them and Randy in the other room, wondering if he was the right person for anyone to be talking to about Luis’s well-being. Randy didn’t seem pleased, either. He figured he was just along for the ride.

Then, Luis stood up.

I wondered over how uncomfortable he must have been, with all that attention on him, mine included. Because when Luis stood up, everyone stopped talking. All eyes moved to him. Tall, thin... empty, Luis.

“Sweetie,” my mom said carefully, “is there something you need? Anything I can get for you?” Even she was cautious. After all of her attempts at conversation with him he hadn’t responded to anything other than yes or no answers.

A very subtle shake of the head in response, and Luis took two steps away from the table.

“Luis? Where are you going?” Mrs. Osie asked.

Evidently, he’d grown used to responding to her because after a quick glance at all of us, he regarded her directly. “I want to go to bed,” he replied. And no one stopped him.

But, I was out of the room as soon as my mom went to join Osie and Randy. I didn’t want him to go to sleep. Not yet, anyway. My first hello sucked. I wanted to try again... I wanted to go to bed knowing that he knew I wanted him here.

Stopping outside the bedroom door he’d closed only moments before, it was more difficult than I wanted it to be to just knock. Before I could knock, I needed something to say. I doubted he needed me to stare at him anymore. It’s what I’d been doing all night--looking at his face, looking for signs of the boy I’d known as I wished him back to me.

No more staring. Staring was rude.

And even if I had something to say, would he respond to it? I was not LeAnne Osie.

Maybe an icebreaker was needed. A gift. I went to my room, where I had one on hand.

Returning, I carefully held the soft sack in my hand and knocked on the door.

There was no response, so I knocked again. “Luis?”

I gave it a moment. Clearly, he wasn’t going to talk to me.

I sighed. “Luis, I’m opening the door, alright?”

Again, I waited. No response meant no objections, so slowly I placed my hand on the doorknob, turned, and gave it a light push.

With the door halfway open I stared into the room Lee and I had taken the time to arrange, and that my mom had taken the time to rearrange. His bed was now beneath the window and he sat on it, his eyes blankly on a corner, as far away from me as possible.

I took a deep breath, wanting to treat him as normally as possible, wishing that he would make that easier.

“I’m not trying to bother you. It’s just... I sort of got you something and I can’t really wait to give him... her? It? To you... I mean, I’ve kinda got its home hiding in your closet. My mom would freak if she knew it was here.”

Something in my explanation managed to catch his curiosity, because his eyes managed to find me, or at least, the sack in my hand. I held it out for him. It didn’t occur to me to ask if he was afraid of snakes because somehow I knew that for Luis, the notion was ridiculous. It was like he knew what it was, anyway, the way he cradled the weight of the package when he took it, gently tugged the tie free with his fingers and lifted the creature out, seeming at ease when it wrapped itself around his fingers, enjoying the warmth.

Something in his expression softened then, and I might have been more hopeful about it than I should have been, because suddenly I had a horrible case of diarrhea of the mouth. “I was gonna get you a frog,” I said, “my mom said no frogs... I’m sure she meant no snakes, too, but since she didn’t actually say it...” his dark eyes suddenly moved to mine, and I felt myself releasing a breath, attempting to smile. “I missed you... you have no idea how hard it was not knowing...I’m just, really glad you’re back and...”

And... what could I say when something so familiar crept into his expression? It was that look--the same look on his face the last time I’d seen him--of a confused, horrified little boy. I watched his brow grow tense, and the knot form in his jaw as he clenched it, and the words he then chose to say to me hurt more than anything else he ever could have said.

“Get out.”

Copyright © 2010 DomLuka; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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