Chapter 19
Auggie
The very next day, Melody arrived at the apartment along with Chantal.
They were only staying for a short visit, as both Chantal and I agreed Melody shouldn’t sleep over while Mia was here.
At least, not yet. Maybe that could change in the future, depending on how long Mia stayed, but for now it wouldn’t be appropriate.
Nor would it be worth the headache to figure out who would sleep where.
There were only two beds in the apartment, after all.
I feared that Melody would be upset when she learned that someone else was using her new bedroom, but to my surprise, she was actually delighted.
She really did seem to view Mia as some sort of stray pet that she had brought home and seemed to consider having him sleep in her bed as a completely natural thing.
I wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that he’d been in a coma when she first met him.
Perhaps, she thought he was like one of the figures in her fairytales, forced to fall into a cursed sleep at night.
Many of the fairytales I’d read to Mia while he’d been in the coma had a strange fascination with sleep, so I was sure Melody had heard such stories as well.
If she considered herself the thing that Mia needed to wake up, then maybe she viewed offering him her bedroom as an act of heroism.
It was hard to tell what children were thinking. Their minds often wandered into places and connected thoughts that an adult would never even consider. I decided it wasn’t worth trying to figure out why Melody was so happy to offer up her room and was just grateful that she wasn’t upset.
Five-year-old tantrums were the worst. They had just enough logic to argue, but not enough to understand any reasoning you might try to give them. We really had lucked out this time.
After learning that Mia now resided in her room, Melody’s next step was to insist that he be introduced to every single one of her toys.
The way she explained each of their names and backstories made them almost seem like real people, rather than stuffed animals and dolls.
It was almost like Mia was being presented as the new guest at a party, and Melody was the gracious host ensuring that all her new friends were familiar with each other.
Mia didn’t say a word as he sat on the edge of the bed, listening to her ramble and automatically accepting any toy she handed to him. If I didn’t know better, I almost would have thought that he really was some sort of life-sized doll.
Off to the side, Chantal and I watched the scene from the bedroom doorway. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that everything was going well, until Chantal spoke up.
“Why’s he staring at her like that?”
I looked over at Chantal, asking what she meant.
She just nodded at Mia, whispering so the other two in the room wouldn’t hear.
“He’s been staring at Melody ever since she arrived. I’m not even sure he’s blinked.”
She was right, of course. I hadn’t noticed because I’d gotten so used to Mia’s wide-eyed observation of the world around him that it just seemed natural, but now that I was paying attention, I realized his expression was different.
This wasn’t his usual distracted attention, where his eyes constantly flickered all around like he was trying to memorize everything all at once.
No, right now, his attention was locked on Melody with an intense focus the likes of which I’d never seen from him before.
His gaze tracked her every move, and although he didn’t say anything, I could tell that something hung on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be spoken into existence.
Not knowing what else to do, I turned back to Chantal and shrugged.
“His memories are a bit… all over the place ever since he woke up. I’m not quite sure how much he remembers about anything. Melody might be the first kid he ever remembers meeting, so it would make sense that he’s curious about her. I don’t think he means any harm.”
I’d hoped to reassure her, but Chantal continued to frown as she watched Mia and Melody.
“You can’t know that for certain,” she said. “If the coma messed with his memories, then you don’t know who he really is at all. Have you had any luck identifying him?”
I wished I could say otherwise, but despite my efforts, I’d made no more progress tracking down Mia’s identity. Reluctantly, I shook my head.
Chantal clicked her tongue while one painted nail started nervously tapping on her crossed arms.
“If you haven’t identified him, then for all you know he could be a criminal. Maybe even a predator. We should probably keep Melody away from him until we know for sure.”
I tried not to sigh too loudly. She’d been the one to insist on bringing Melody over, but now she was changing her tune just because Mia stared a little too much. It didn’t seem fair. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and he was already being treated like a villain for no reason.
I was about to argue that very point when I was interrupted by a sudden shout from Melody.
While Chantal and I had been talking, Mia had reached forward to pinch the hem of Melody’s dress.
Now, Melody stood there frozen with a large stuffed rabbit in her arms while the skirt of her dress remained caught in Mia’s grip.
“Hey,” Chantal yelled, darting forward to no doubt slap his hand away, and probably claw his eyes out while she was at it. She was a fierce mama bear when it came to her kid.
Luckily, I was able to stop her before she took more than a single step forward.
“Hold on.” I pushed myself between Chantal and Mia as a human shield. It would only stop her for a moment, but that was enough for me to, hopefully, play peacekeeper. “Um, Mia, what are you doing?”
He didn’t seem to hear me or even notice the danger he’d just been in from Chantal. All his attention was on Melody’s dress as he rubbed the fabric between his fingers.
“This dress,” he said, staring fixedly at the fabric. “I think… I had one like it.”
The unexpected answer was at least enough to cool Chantal’s anger, so we were at least out of the danger zone, but that still left the bizarre question of Mia’s statement.
My thoughts traveled back to the mostly burned dress that had been found in his meager belongings, and a picture began to form in my mind.
Melody laughed, no longer at all concerned that someone was tugging on her clothes.
“That’s silly. Why would you have a dress? It’s for girls, not boys.”
At her words, Mia’s hand jerked back as if the cloth he’d just been holding suddenly burned him.
His wide-eyed stare, usually so curious about the world around him, shuttered closed like someone had drawn a shade behind his gaze to block out the light.
It was a subtle shift, but in just an instant, he changed from a creature of open curiosity to an iron prison in the shape of a person.
“That’s what they said,” he whispered, so quiet I could barely hear him.
“Mia, what is it?” I asked as I sat next to him as close as possible without touching him. “Did you… remember something?”
Mia’s gaze remained unfocused, but he started plucking at the fabric of the sweatpants he was wearing.
They were borrowed from my closet and far too big on him, so there was plenty of extra material to play with.
He practically drowned in the pants, but he never seemed to mind.
However, now he seemed like he really wanted to take them off.
“That’s what they said,” he repeated. “When they made me get rid of my clothes. They said it was bad. I had to wear boy clothes.”
My suspicion from earlier snapped into focus.
Mia was usually a woman’s name, but it wasn’t impossible for a man to have such a name.
However, combined with the burned dress I’d found among his possessions, and the vague memory of someone getting rid of his clothes for not being boy clothes, it created a pretty clear picture.
There was something to be said for the innocence of children.
While I was still trying to figure out how to respond to Mia’s sudden reveal, Melody had already absorbed this new information and added it to her world view.
She looked at her dress, then at Mia’s clothes, then back at her own dress.
After a few back-and-forth glances, she came to a decision with a firm little nod that made her braids swing.
“No one should take your clothes. If you like it, you can have my dress.”
Her tone was so earnest, and her words so simple, it made me want to laugh. I managed to hold it back, but to my surprise, I heard laughter anyway.
Sitting beside me on the bed, laughter bubbled up out of Mia like uncontrollable hiccups. He pressed one hand to his mouth to stifle the sound, but he couldn’t stop, and as his pathetic laughter continued, tears began to trickle from his eyes.
There was a perfect word for the sight that Mia made. I’d learned it once from some random source and the meaning stuck in my memory because of how oddly specific it was.
Tragicomic. Something that is both tragic and comedic at the same time. Or, in other words, something so sad that it was also funny.
It had seemed like a pointless word at the time.
How often did such a contradiction appear that it needed its own word?
Looking at Mia now, though, I understood why such a word existed. No other word could better describe his current state.
Only a monster would be able to ignore his distress, and I’d like to think that, despite how many lives I’d taken in the line of duty, I still didn’t yet count as a monster. I slipped my arm around Mia’s shoulders, squeezing very gently so that he could easily pull away if he wanted.
“Sorry, Melody, that won’t work.”