Chapter 14 #3
Devon asked, “So, do both beds fit in my room?”
“Yes,” his dad said. “It’s a little tight, but it’s fine. Go up and look.”
Devon did as he asked. The beds were placed on opposite walls facing each other.
His desk had been moved, but there was still enough room to move around without bumping into anything.
It was almost like he had one side of the room and Ellis had the other.
He agreed that the bunk bed would’ve given the room more flow, but he thought the new configuration worked just fine.
Back downstairs, he told his mom, “The room is okay.”
She paused over the skillet holding the fried chicken they’d be having for dinner. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Ellis and I will have plenty of room.”
The doorbell rang. His dad went to answer it. A moment later, he returned with a tall woman with thinning red hair who was wearing a really wrinkled light-blue suit. Beside her stood Ellis holding a black trash bag that Devon guessed held his belongings.
“Hi, Ellis,” Devon said happily.
Ellis gave him a smile in reply. “Hi, Devon.”
The woman introduced herself as Lois Pruitt. She was a social worker. She asked to see the room where Ellis would be sleeping, so his parents took her upstairs. While they were gone, Devon said, “I hope you like staying with us.”
“Me too. It’ll only be for a little while, though. My mom said this is all a big misunderstanding and as soon as everything’s cleared up, she’ll be coming to get me.”
Warning bells went off inside Devon, but he kept the smile pasted on his face. “That’s good to know.”
The adults returned, and Ms. Pruitt told Ellis, “I hope you’ll enjoy being with the Julys. If you need to get in touch with me, here’s my card. Just give me a call.”
He took the card. “Thank you.”
She turned to Devon’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs. July, thanks so much for opening your home to Ellis. I wish we had more families like yours. Have a good rest of your evening.”
Devon’s dad escorted her back to the door before returning.
His mom said, “Ellis, we’re glad you’re here. Dev, how about you take him up to the room you two will be sharing.”
Still troubled by Ellis’s words about this being a misunderstanding, he said, “Come on, Ellis, let me show you our room.”
“I LIKE YOUR room, Devon,” Ellis said, looking around.
“This is your room too. That bed over there is yours.”
Ellis went to it and sat down. “Is that bed your brother’s?”
“No. It’s mine. He has his own bed in his room.”
“You had this room all to yourself before I came here?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” He looked around again. “Does that TV work?”
“Yes.”
“Do your parents let you watch it?”
“Yes.”
“My mom said TV is the devil. I’ve only watched one a few times.”
“As long as it isn’t adult stuff, we can usually watch what we want, especially on the weekends.” He found the questions surprising and a bit troubling too.
“Where can I put my clothes and stuff?”
Devon pointed out the new dresser by his bed. “That one’s yours.”
He opened the top drawer. “Is this new?”
“I think so.”
“Your family must be really rich.”
Devon had no idea how to respond to that. “If you need to wash any of your clothes let me know, and we can put them in the washer after dinner.”
“I should probably wash everything. It’s been a while since my mom and I went to the laundromat.”
“Then we’ll do it after we eat. Come and let me show you our bathroom.”
Once there, Devon said, “Amari and I share this one, so now you will too.”
“There’s more than one in this house?”
He nodded. “My parents have their own. There’s also a little one downstairs and one in the basement.”
“Wow. Okay.”
As they left the bathroom, they ran into Amari in the hallway. He’d just gotten home from working at Clark’s Grocery. “Hey, you two. Welcome to House July, Ellis. Glad you’re here.”
“Thanks, Amari. Good to see you.”
“Same here. Devon giving you the tour?”
He nodded.
“Mom said to tell you it’s time to eat.”
“Thanks,” Devon replied. “We’ll be right down.”
At the dinner table, Ellis’s hunger was made obvious by how much he ate and how fast.
Devon’s dad had to say, “Slow down, son.”
Ellis looked embarrassed. “Sorry, sir. I’m really hungry.”
“That’s okay. Eat as much as you want—there’s plenty. I just don’t want you to make yourself sick from eating so fast.”
He nodded and helped himself to another piece of fried chicken.
Amari told him, “I ate that way coming out of foster care too. You never get enough to eat, ever.”
Ellis paused. “You were in foster care?”
“Every day of my life until I moved here at age eleven.”
“Really?”
Amari nodded.
“So was I,” Devon told him. “Only I was eight when I moved here.”
“Dev and I and a few of the other kids here were all in foster care before we were adopted.”
“These are your adoptive parents?” he asked, indicating the two adults seated at the table.
“Yes, and they saved our lives,” Amari said solemnly. “Right, Dev?”
“Right.”
It was difficult to determine what Ellis thought of this revelation, but Devon assumed it gave him something to think about, because he returned to the food on his plate and had no further questions.
Later, after Devon put Ellis’s threadbare clothing into the washer and then the dryer, it was time for bed.
Ellis took a shower and put on the new pajamas he was presented with, then crawled into bed.
Devon was ready for bed, too, but told Ellis, “I need to go say goodnight to my parents. Do you want to come?”
“Is it okay if I don’t?”
“Sure. Be right back.” He was glad Ellis declined, because what Devon had to tell them he didn’t want Ellis to hear.
They were watching TV.
“What’s up?” his dad asked.
Devon shared what Ellis said about his mom and the misunderstanding.
His dad said, “That’s not something I wanted to hear.”
“Me either,” his mom replied. “I get the feeling this is going to be a lot more difficult than we imagined. Thanks for letting us know.”
“You’re welcome. Good night.”
After the lights were off, Devon lay in bed thinking about Ellis and his many questions.
Like his mom, Devon also thought this might be more than they imagined it would be.
He made himself comfortable beneath the bedding, then went still upon hearing Ellis crying softly.
He wanted to ask him if he was okay, but the obvious answer was no.
Not wanting to intrude or embarrass him, he tried to ignore it, but the sounds continued to the point that Devon felt so sorry for him hot tears stung his own eyes in sympathetic response.
TEN DAYS LATER, Sandra Cunningham, aka Barbara Greene aka Myra Keene aka Patrice Wade, was sentenced to five years in prison for theft and embezzlement.
Because she was also tried and convicted in the states of Georgia and Illinois, she was deemed a habitual criminal and stripped of her custody rights to her son Ellis Cunningham.