INDELICATE INCIDENTS: 22-24
Lies, truth, and chemical solutions.
22.
‘Do I have to go to school?’ asked Jakob.
‘School?’ I repeated. Wiped the crud from my eyes. ‘Not now. We’re in a car.’
It was a violent dawn. The sky was a soft pink, the road dark and sleepy. I had woken Jakob up early and dragged him to the car. Despite the coffee I was chugging, he was more awake than I was.
‘Frank,’ he whined. I resisted the impulse to flick his ear. Ghost memory of another brother, not Jakob. Tobias maybe, or Aaron. Flicking their ear in the backseat of the car, bored and trying to cause trouble.
‘Yes, you have to go to school,’ I said. ‘It’s the law. You’re a child.’ He huffed and crossed his arms.
‘You’re a child,’ he said.
‘Okay, kiddo,’ I said.
‘Don’t call me kiddo,’ he said. I sighed.
‘Can you lay off a little?’ I asked. ‘It’s early. I didn’t get enough sleep.’
‘I know,’ said Jakob. ‘‘Everybody in the county knows.’
‘Sorry,’ I said. The people in the next room hadn’t been thrilled about my nightmares either.
‘Were you dreaming about what happened?’ asked Jakob.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I was dreaming about sharks.’
Jakob turned so he was facing straight ahead, his expression pensive. I considered turning on the radio to break the silence.
‘Why did you run away?’ he asked.
‘What the shit,’ I said. Jakob put his feet up on the dashboard. I smacked them off without looking away from the road. ‘Stop it.’ Jakob began opening and closing the passenger window.
‘I’m bored,’ he said. ‘I want to know. I don’t know you,’ he said. Flat and direct. A statement with no judgment behind it. ‘You left when I was little. I don’t remember you much.’
I turned on the radio. Fiddled with the dial until I found some forgettable pop rock.
‘I used to read to you,’ I said. Jakob wrinkled his forehead.
‘I don’t remember,’ he said.
‘You were a baby,’ I said. ‘I used to babysit you all the time. And everyone else,’ I added.
Including our fucking parents, most days.
‘What was I like as a baby?’ asked Jakob.
‘Smaller,’ I said. ‘Stinkier.’ A hint of a grin from the corner of my eye.
‘What did you read to me?’ asked Jakob.
‘I don’t remember,’ I lied. Turned the volume up on the radio. ‘Whatever crap they forced on me at school.’ Cookbooks, books about chefs, anything about the art of food. Imagining we could afford it. Imagining just walking into your kitchen knowing the cabinets and fridge were stuffed with delicious things you liked to eat and you could take them and make anything you could want.
‘Why did you run away?’ asked Jakob.
‘Are you going to ask me dumb questions the whole drive?’ I asked. Jakob shrugged.
‘You’re a dumb question,’ he said. I almost smiled.
‘It’s complicated,’ I said. ‘There were a lot of reasons.’
‘What was it like?’
Terror all the time but a different type of terror.
Safer. Impersonal. It’s not so bad when you get hurt by strangers.
Easier brand of pain. Lonely. Exhausting.
I saw the best in people and the worst until eventually both were meaningless.
‘Hard,’ I said.
‘You left us,’ he said.
‘That’s not fair,’ I said. ‘I didn’t have a choice.’
Sense memory of a teenage version of me with a busted nose and bruises on my arms, looking up as my father calmly washed my blood from his knuckles at the kitchen sink. Some splattered on the floor.
I hurried to clean it up before I made things worse.
My mother giggling, rolling on the floor flat out fucked up, reeking of booze and broken promises and endless bullshit when we needed to be driven somewhere.
Begging the neighbors for a ride to the doctor’s office, desperate and scared with Tobias burning alive from fever and too poor to call an ambulance.
In the end I hotwired their ugly fucking Buick and drove us all to the ER.
Had to wear long pants and sweaters all summer. Spent most of it in juvie, sweating for my sins.
It was worth it.
I was 12.
‘Families are supposed to be different,’ I said. ‘It should have been different.’
‘How?’ Jakob asked.
‘Just different,’ I said. Swallowed down the sorrow of what could have been. If my parents were different people. If I was a different person.
The music changed to some bluesy rock song.
‘Did Mom and Dad ever talk about me?’ I asked after a pause. Jakob shrugged one shoulder, looking out the window.
‘Why do you care?’ he asked. I didn’t know how to answer.
‘Just wondering,’ I said. Jakob pursed his lips.
‘Almost never,’ he said. ‘Nothing nice, anyway.’
I wasn’t surprised. Spark of pain somewhere deep in my chest, but it flared out in an instant.
‘Tobias said they filed a police report after you left,’ continued Jakob. ‘Dennis said they killed you and buried you in the backyard.’ I snorted.
‘Dennis would say that,’ I said. ‘Dennis would do that.’
If they called the police, nobody made an effort to find me. Relief and devastation can look identical.
When they did mention you it was about whose fault it was that you ran away.’ Jakob’s eyes were distant. ‘Or saying mean things about you. Sometimes they blamed us.’
Guilt like a stone in my throat, neck bulging and deformed.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ I said. ‘None of you boys.’
‘I know,’ said Jakob. Voice sharp.
There was a long silence.
Dennis George Tobias Tim Aaron. People I used to know and never would again.
Me and Jakob the bookends to a limited series.
‘You don’t seem upset,’ said Jakob. ‘About what happened.’
Don’t answer.
‘It’s not like you cared enough to come visit, ever,’ said Jakob. Meant to hurt and fuck does the kid know how to aim.
‘That’s not fair,’ I snapped.
‘You’re right,’ said Jakob. ‘It wasn’t fair.’
‘You have no idea what it was like!’ I shouted. I didn’t want to do this. To shout at Jakob. He’d been through enough. More than enough, and here I was hollering at him like I used to holler at Tim when he’d bring frogs inside.
No, worse.
The way our parents used to shout. This time it was without the threat of violence or the curling sneer of cruelty, but the same anger.
My face felt hot.
‘I didn’t leave because I wanted to,’ I said in an even voice.
‘Yes you did,’ said Jakob. His face was flushed and his eyes were wet. ‘Nobody made you leave. You took off all by yourself.’
‘Did we have different parents?’ I asked. What did you want me to do? Take you with me?’
‘You could have called!’ shouted Jakob, his voice shrill. ‘You could have written. Sent one of us an email. You knew where we were the whole time and you never tried to get in touch once. With any of us.’ He swallowed. ‘It would have been different if you were far away. Or dead. Sometimes we’d pretend you were dead.’ His eyes were wet and his mouth was turned up in a strange smile. ‘It was easier to think of you as dead.’
‘It’s complicated,’ I said.
It’s not.
‘Just because you didn’t like Mom and Dad didn’t mean you had to leave the rest of us,’ Jakob said, looking away. He switched off the radio. I didn’t stop him.
‘Jakob.’
‘Would you have come back if Mom and Dad hadn’t called?’ he asked. Curled in on himself. Tilting his head to keep his eyes from flooding.
‘Sure.’
Probably not.
‘Why did you come back?’ he asked.
Because I’m a fucking idiot.
‘I wanted to see you guys,’ I said. Jakob looked at me skeptically.
‘Right. What did Mom say to get you to come back?’
Dad is dying. Money matters to settle. The boys miss you. They need you.
‘Can we change the subject?’ I asked. ‘Less talking. More coffee.’ I took a long, pointed drink.
‘I want to go home,’ Jakob said in a familiar tone. I bit back a groan.
‘Please, Jakob,’ I said. ‘I’m begging you. Drop it. The house is gone. It’s an empty lot.’
A firebombed lot. Ashes in the air and cinders that left black footprints on the dusty road.
Gas explosions can be so destructive.
Hopefully the ground was salted. Turn it into a parking lot. A sewage dump. Declare the entire area a No Man’s Land. Tell children it was cursed.
It was cursed.
‘I don’t care,’ said Jakob. ‘I want to go home.’
‘And do what?’ I asked. ‘Camp out on the front lawn?’ Or what was left of it.
‘They didn’t have to blow up the house,’ said Jakob. ‘They could have cleaned it up. They didn’t have to ruin everything.’
‘Shut up,’ I said. ‘Just, please. Please. Shut up.’ Jakob’s jaw clenched. He lapsed into a sulky silence.
I turned on the radio. A few forgettable songs played in the space between us.
‘I do miss them, you know,’ I said, keeping my eyes on the road. ‘The boys, I mean. I missed all of you guys. All the time.’ Jakob turned to look at me.
‘Then why didn’t you come back before?’ he asked. I opened my mouth to say something. Shut my mouth. Shrugged, feeling the weight of endless bullshit on my shoulders.
Jakob watched me with a disappointed expression. It made him look older.
‘You wouldn’t get it,’ I said. ‘Let it go.’
23.
The drugs make it quiet.
24.
‘You have to understand things from our perspective.’
I stared at the man across from me. He was old. Probably in his thirties.
The man kept smiling at me. Face inoffensive and pleasant except for the shark behind his eyes. Dead and calculating.
Don’t know what he sees when he looks at me.
I pulled against the handcuffs holding me to the table. They chafed my raw wrists. Bruises purpling my skin for days.
At least this pain is familiar. Who says you can’t go home again.
I was covered in scrapes and bruises. Mud and dirt and dust on my clothes. Twigs in my hair and torn clothes.
Nothing new, then.
‘Take these off first,’ I said. He took a note on a clipboard.
‘The handcuffs stay on for now,’ he said. I rattled them. He was unimpressed. A child throwing a tantrum.
I felt like a child. I wanted my - well, not my parents. Ben, maybe. An adult. Someone to take care of this.
‘We can take the handcuffs off when you’re no longer considered a threat,’ the man said.
‘How am I a threat?’ I asked. There was blood on my face and clothes. It itched against my skin, tacky between my fingers. Hint of iron in the air.
It wasn’t my blood.
‘You broke an agent’s nose,’ the man said in a mild voice. ‘Savagely.’ He leaned against the table, crossing one foot in front of the other. Cheap shoes. Shined until they gleamed. Probably paid someone to clean them, the fucker.
‘He grabbed Jakob.’ My head still smarted from where it had crunched against his stupid fucking nose.
‘Your reaction is why you’re restrained,’ he said. I took a breath. Forced my tone to remain even.
‘I want to see Jakob,’ I said. The man raised an eyebrow.
‘You’ve made that clear,’ said the man. ‘Repeatedly. I appreciate your position on the matter.’
‘You can’t keep him away from me,’ I said. ‘He’s a minor. I have rights.’
‘You’d be surprised by what we can do,’ said the man. A shock of panic shot down my spine. I hide it behind a sneer.
‘Listen you fucking-’
‘Agent Nescio,’ said the man crisply. ‘Or sir, if you’d prefer. But you will mind yourself while we discuss Jakob.’
‘Where is he?’ I pulled at the handcuffs.The rattling made his forehead wrinkle. I shook them harder. Ignored the soreness and stabs of pain.
They kept me grounded. My head was pounding to the beat of my stupid heart.
‘Jakob is perfectly safe,’ said the man.
‘Then let me see him,’ I said.
‘Eventually,’ he answered. ‘First there are some matters to settle.’
‘Let me see him and then we can talk.’ It was supposed to be an order. Came off as more or a plea.
‘You’re not in a position to negotiate, the man said. ‘He’s fine.’ I scoffed.
‘Bullshit,’ I said.
‘I can personally assure you he’s all right.’ The guy’s suit was threadbare around the edges. Neat and clean, but worn and shiny at the elbows.
His face had the same tired, threadbare look to it. His hair was thinning a bit on top.
He was handsome, in a bland sort of way. A bit too blurred around the edges for my tastes. Like a guy in a home security system commercial.
‘I don’t fucking know you,’ I said. He smirked.
‘I’m Agent Norman Nescio. As I said when we met.’
Running through the woods running through the desert down the streets where am I where am I keep your hand around his wrist don’t stop running asphalt beneath my feet and a car slowing down beside me and we’re safe we’re safe it won’t catch us now
‘Wasn’t paying attention,’ I said. He nodded.
‘Understandable.’ There’s a mocking lilt to his tone. Stop making bullshit excuses. ‘I work with the government.’
‘What part of the government?’ I asked.
Another smile.
‘I work for The Program,’ he said. ‘We’re a special unit.’
‘Let me guess, a secret unit?’ I asked as sarcastically as I could. His face took on a strange expression.
‘You have no idea,’ he said. ‘We handle a very particular type of situation. Situations like yours. You know. Delicate matters.’
‘Which means?’ I asked. Going for bravado but I sound scared shitless.
‘The Incident is being handled,’ he said. I could hear the capital letters. ‘The mess cleaned up.’
‘The mess?’ I let out an ugly laugh. ‘The mess. My fucking family fucking died. They died. Those kids died. My brothers. My parents. My home. Dennis. Georgie. Tobias. Tim. Aar-’ I felt the panic starting to rise in my throat like bile. Could taste the sharp, bitter tang in the back of my throat.
There’s so much screaming so much wailing. Ripping flesh and bones crunching. Inhuman noises like stars dying and the scream of destroyed trees.
When it moves it is inevitable. The pull of gravity the end of the world. Not chasing. Hunting. Patient and hungry nd it’s behind me it’s following me still there getting closer drenched in pieces of my family and black tar and it’s in the hallway outside the door and I can hear my brothers dying amd
I leaned over and retched beside the table.
It went on for a long time.
I hung my aching head between my knees. Focused on breathing until my heart stopped racing.
Nescio pressed a handkerchief in my hand. I looked up at him. Covered in snot and vomit and blood and dirt. .
‘Are you from the fucking past?’ I asked.
‘Clean yourself up,’ he said. ‘We need to discuss what’s going to happen next.’ I pushed my sodden hair out of my eyes.
‘You’re going to tell me what happens next, you mean,’ I said. A small shrug. None of this was new to Agent Nescio. Another meeting in his busy schedule.
‘‘We have protocols in place for events like this,’ he said.
‘There a lot of events like this?’ I asked. Kept squeezing the handkerchief. Unlike his clothes, the handkerchief was expensive. I could feel the fine, delicate fabric between my rough, stained fingers.
Wanted to tear it to shreds. Feel it rip between my teeth.
‘Not exactly, but close enough’ he said. I spat out a mouthful of bile. No blood, at least.
Nescio crouched down so we were eye level.
‘We’ll get you and your brother cleaned up,’ he said. ‘Give you protection. Necessary resources. We’ll handle everything. Once we come to an understanding.’
I spat another mouthful of sick onto the floor. Gave him a filthy look. I dropped the handkerchief on the ground. Wiped my disaster of a face against my shoulder, leaving a slick trail of snot and puke. Nescio winced.
‘If you’re trying to be defiant, there are less disgusting ways,’ he said. He picked up the handkerchief and placed it in my bloody fist. ‘If you feel like trying to be human.’
‘Fuck you,’ I said. ‘Fuck this. I want a lawyer.’
‘Why would you want a lawyer?’ Nescio asked. Tossed the clipboard onto the table and stuck his hands in his pockets. ‘Have you done something wrong?’
‘You’re detaining me,’ I said. Agent Nescio furrowed his brow. He studied the room we were in. It was plain and plastic and nondescript. Nescio must have been right at home.
‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘We’re simply having a conversation.’
‘I’m in handcuffs,’ I said. Held up my hands and rattled my chains.
Eat your heart out, Marley.
‘You were hysterical.’
‘This is unreal,’ I said, more to myself. ‘This can’t be happening.’ Agent Nescio crouched down on his heels in front of me again. Put his hand on mine. The one holding the crumpled handkerchief.
‘This is real,’ he said. ‘This is happening. The sooner you accept it, the more easily you’ll acclimate.’
‘Acclimate to what?’ I asked, my voice hollow. I sounded young and scared.
For the first time I could remember, I wanted my parents.
‘Your new normal,’ said Nescio. ‘A normal which does not involve what you think you saw tonight. You shouldn’t mention what you think happened. To anyone. Push it out of your head. Wipe the slate. Start over.’
‘You’re out of your mind,’ I said. ‘You’re telling me to lie.’
‘I’m not telling you to lie,’ said Nescio in the tone you’d use to discuss the weather. ‘I’m telling you to accept one version of reality over another. We all do it all the time. Today is just a little more extreme.’
‘You want me to act like I didn’t see that thing tear-’ Nescio held up his hand with a sharp gesture, cutting me off.
‘Miss-’
‘I’m not a ‘Miss,’ I snapped. ‘Just Frank. Or Thompson. Not a Miss or a she or a her. They. Okay?’
Nescio seemed nonplussed. Eyes going over me, trying to sort me out. I kept my face as neutral as possible.
It happened every fucking time. Usually I didn’t bother explaining. But I was scared. I was angry.
And I fucking loathed being called ‘Miss.’
‘Frank-’
‘This is bullshit,’ I said. ‘You and your goons show up at the house after everything happened and drag me and Jakob here to who the fuck knows-’
‘Be quiet.’ The words were said in a different tone. My jaw snapped shut of its own accord. There was a cruel, dangerous edge to his voice.
Knife to the throat held by someone who really wants to see your insides.
Agent Nescio leaned against the metal table, tapping a file against his knee. He wasn’t smiling.
‘Let me make this clear,’ he said. ‘There are people who would rather not let you go. Who would prefer to make this situation disappear. They believe you are a complication and a liability. I don’t disagree.’ He gave me an unimpressed look. ‘But I feel the situation calls for a bit more nuance. Although nuance doesn’t seem to be your strong suit.’
‘Bite me,’ I said. Childish and scared. I wanted to see Jakob.
He was the only one left.
And then there were two.
Nescio rubbed his temples.
‘I am not the enemy here,’ he said. I laughed, braying and ugly. He opened the file and flipped through it. ‘I’m also not your friend,’ he continued. ‘I’m a facilitator. This is an unfortunate incident. We need to handle the situation. Contain it.’ He leaned towards me and spoke quietly. ‘If you continue to insist your ridiculous story is true, there will be consequences. They will be beyond my control.’
‘What about the thing I saw?’ I asked. ‘Is it still out there?’
Was it coming was it following me could it get into the building? Lock me up and throw away the key just let me be safe don’t let it hurt me I don’t want to die like this.
‘It’s being taken care of,’ said Nescio.
So yes. Great.
‘It happened,’ I said. ‘I was there. I saw it.’ Nescio picked up the clipboard. Wrote something down.
‘You can’t be this naive,’ he said. ‘Mi- Frank. Try and understand. Nothing strange happened tonight. Just a tragic, tragic accident. Your brother is in a similar conversation with my colleague right now.’
‘What accident?’ I asked. Agent Nescio clasped his hands. Storytime at the public library.
‘There was a gas leak,’ he said. ‘No doubt your exposure to the gas left you confused and disoriented. You may have had some disturbing visions as a result. Tell me you understand.’
I shook my head. My throat was parched and my eyes burned and my brothers were dead. Part of me was still in the house. Watching what it did to my brothers. Devouring and destroying and they were dead. Dennis. Georgie. Tobias. Tim. Aaron.
‘There wasn’t any gas leak.’
‘It blew up your house,’ said Nescio. I felt cold. Distantly wondered if I was going to throw up again. Planned to aim for Nescio’s shoes this time.
‘The house didn’t blow up,’ I said. It had been standing when we were taken away by the men in their slick suits and weird army gear. Beautiful woman with a scar across her face who stared at me too hard.
The back door was ripped off its hinges, and the side of the house was torn open, but it had still been standing.
More or less.
‘The house is fine,’ I repeated. My brothers were dead and my fucking asshole parents were dead but the house was there. It was still there. Nescio looked solemn.
If it was an act, it wasn’t a bad one.
‘The force of the blast must have given you a concussion,’ he said. I opened my mouth. Shut it. Opened it again.
‘What blast?’ I asked.
‘From the gas leak,’ said Nescio, patient as mountains and interested as statues. ‘The explosion killed your parents and siblings. It’s lucky you were outside the house with Jakob at the time.’
‘We weren’t-
‘Outside, yes,’ he cut in. ‘It’s how you survived.’ He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. ‘If it’s any consolation, your family was dead before the explosion,’ he said. I shrugged his hand away.
‘They didn’t pass out and die peacefully,’ I said. Wished it were true. Closing their eyes and breathing easy. Slipping away to somewhere else. My brothers deserved better. They didn’t deserve to die screaming.
‘Yes, they did,’ said Nescio. There was a hit of a warning in his voice.
‘Did you blow up my parent’s house?’ I asked. Nescio circled me, hands behind his back. I didn’t bother turning my head.
‘No, of course not,’ he said. ‘Nobody would ever order your home to be destroyed to eliminate evidence.’ He stopped his walk around the desk and flipped through the file he’d left there like it was a prop from a high school play. ‘It was a gas leak. A spark from faulty electrical wiring led to an explosion. Tragic, of course, but not uncommon.’’
‘Stop saying ‘gas leak!’ I shouted. ‘It wasn’t a fucking gas leak! I know what I saw!’
I twisted in my seat, fighting at the cuffs. They bit into my wrists. Cheese grater against the tender skin.
Nescio grabbed my hands to stop me. His were warm and dry. His face was close to mine. I could see a spray of freckles across the top of his nose. The fine lines surrounding his eyes.
‘I need you to listen carefully,’ he said in a soft, clear voice. ‘Either it was a gas leak or you don’t see your brother again. You don’t leave this room.’
‘You wouldn’t do anything to Jakob,’ I said. Could hear the uncertainty in my own voice. Agent Nescio’s forehead crinkled in sympathy. ‘That’s bullshit. He’s what, twelve? You can’t hurt kids.’
‘Thirteen,’ said Nescio. ‘Although I can’t blame you for losing track, with so many siblings, and after so many years apart. Tell me, how’s work at the shop? Your friend Derek taking care of himself?’
He watched my expression, smug and satisfied as if I was a fresh kill and he had a new gun.
‘And we know about your various crimes and misdemeanors,’ said Nescio .‘Even the ones you were never caught for. Which could be traced back to you, provided a few pieces of information were received by the right people.’ He sighed. ‘I suspect such a revelation would make it hard for a young, marginally employed individual to obtain custody of a teenage boy. I don’t want him to go into the system. It’s a nasty place. But it’s not my call. It’s yours.’
I stood up. I was furious, the terror and sorrow and bone-deep grief briefly overshadowed by a pure, vindictive rage.
‘You fucking bastard cocksucking brainless piece of cowshit,’ I snarled. Wanted to lunge at the man in front of me. Choke him to death with the chains around my wrists. Knock him to the ground and kick the fucking smug look off his fucking face until it was nothing but meat and bone.
Agent Nescio pushed me back into the seat more gently than I expected.
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said, unruffled by my outburst. ‘And I don’t want to hurt Jakob. There’s no reason to cause further pain. But my job is to solve problems. Right now, you and your brother are a problem. If you choose to continue being a problem-’
‘Fuck you,’ I said.
‘If you choose to continue being a problem,’ Nescio said, raising his voice, ‘then I will have no choice but to handle the situation.’
‘I want a lawyer,’ I said again, for something to say.
‘I don’t have time for this,’ said Nescio. He dropped the file on the table. No notes, I noticed. He’d been doodling. I could see a fair representation of a cat wearing a diaper.
‘As of 7:38 PM today, your younger brother is the last member of your family left alive,’ he said. ‘Within three hours I can have you in jail headed for prison. For all we know, you’re the one that turned on the gas.’
‘It didn’t happen,’ I said.
‘There was a gas leak,’ said Nescio.’
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘It was a gas leak. Accidental. Definitely what happened. Can we go?’ Nescio frowned.
‘Don’t be cavalier,’ he said. ‘If you or your brother ever breathe a word of this to another human being, they will vanish. You will vanish. Jakob will vanish. And nobody will even notice.’ He stepped back. I got the impression he’d given this speech many, many times before.
‘And let me answer your unspoken question: we’ll know if you tell. This is not an empty promise. We will know. And we will find you, wherever you go. We will deal with you. We will deal with whoever you have told. We will deal with Jakob.’
‘Deal with Jakob?’ I asked. Nescio ignored me.
‘But if you agree, there will be some benefits,’ Nescio continued. ‘Arrangements for your family will be taken care of. Your custody of Jakob will be uncontested.’
‘But?’ I asked.
‘There was a gas leak,’ said Nescio. ‘Your house blew up. The explosion killed your family. This is fact now. Do you understand?’ he asked in a low voice.
I said nothing. Kept waiting to wake up. Maybe this was a coma. Maybe I’d died in the blast Nescio insisted killed my family.
‘If you refuse, Jakob will be gone,’ said Nescio. ‘The system will swallow him up and you will never, ever be able to find him.’ He paused. ‘Do you want to lose Jakob?’
I shook my head. I didn’t want to lose Jakob.
But I couldn’t keep him safe.
I couldn’t keep anyone safe.
Nescio walked around me again in a lazy circle. Predatory.
‘You were alone out there,’ said Nescio. ‘You know how bad it can be. You know what can happen. Kid out there in the world all by themselves.’
‘I was on the streets. It was different.’
‘Jakob could end up there too,’
‘I survived,’ I said in a confident voice. Didn’t mean it. Didn’t want Jakob in a place with strangers. Strangers who could hurt him. Wanted him scared and suffering.
‘Do you think Jakob could?’ asked Nescio. ‘Do you want to risk him?’
I shook my head again.
‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘I can’t take him.’ Nescio raised an eyebrow.
‘You don’t want your little brother,’ he said slowly.
‘Didn’t say that.’
Can’t can’t can’t.
Nescio blinked.
‘Do you-’
‘No.’ Because I didn’t want Jakob in the system. Didn’t want him lost and alone and unloved.
People should know someone misses them. Someone wants them around.
‘Don’t think I’d do a good job,’ I finally said. Stared at the floor. Was easier than looking at Nescio. ‘And I’m not good at keeping secrets,’ I lied.
‘It’s you or the meat grinder,’ said Nescio. ‘And I assure you, it is a meat grinder. You couldn’t do worse.’ He thought for a moment. ‘However, if you wanted, we’d be willing to take Jakob on under the care of The Program.’
Flash memory of a baby with a soft, troubled face and big eyes and tiny hands waving in the air.
The fight left me. I could hear my mother laughing.
Nescio watched as I slumped. Satisfied smile on his smug fucking face.
Glad we worked that out,’ he said. ‘I’ll get the guardianship paper started. But first, why don’t you tell me what happened today?’
It was a desecration. Mocking what my brothers went through. What they saw and how they died. Turning it into something less. Something antiseptic.
My brothers deserved the truth.
‘There was an explosion,’ I said tonelessly, my eyes never leaving the floor. There was a dark stain near my feet. Grease, maybe. ‘A gas leak caused an explosion. The house blew up’ Read the script say the lines. Doesn’t matter if you believe the words.
Say them and make it true. Fuck those kids who died scared and screaming. Twice sacrificed.
‘The gas leak killed my brothers and my parents. It destroyed my house.’ My voice was thick and my eyes burned. I coughed.
It didn’t make sense. I hated my parents. Ran away from them and only came back because they found me. I hated them and wished them dead. Now they were, and there was no satisfaction. Grim relief, maybe.
At least now they couldn’t find me again.
‘Jakob and I were outside when it happened,’ I said.
We ran and ran and there was no gas in the air just blood and tears and sweat and the stink of something like the dregs of the ocean I’d never been to. Gravel buried in my knees and it’s following us it’s still coming how can it see me with no eyes
Or maybe we really were outside when it happened. Maybe it didn’t matter as much as I thought.
‘My family died from a gas leak,’ I said. Steadier. Almost like a person. Almost like I believed it.
Agent Nescio patted my shoulder.
‘My condolences,’ he said. He walked out.