Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Dragon
Seventeen years earlier…
New meat.
I think that’s what one of the bigger guys says when I arrive at the new group home.
I can still hear their low voices.
I heard some stories from the boys who had older brothers in the system about the stuff that happens at this particular home.
I didn’t believe any of it. After all, there are counselors, proctors, guards. Every group home has them.
New meat.
The words make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I learned long ago not to fear hardly anything. Not a fist coming at my face, not the loss of a meal, not a dressing down from the counselors… Certainly not being abandoned by my parents.
Been there, done all that.
Right now, though? I could puke. Like really toss some chunks. My flesh is crawling with invisible centipedes.
New meat.
The group home for boys aged thirteen through seventeen is a large, aging building in a densely populated urban area, closer to the school I attend. The paint is faded, and a chain-link fence surrounds the small yard. I follow David up the cracked concrete steps.
“I’ll give you a quick tour,” he says, “and then you’ll meet with your new counselor.”
I simply nod. This place already gives me the creeps.
Most of the main floor is a living room that doubles as a common area. It’s filled with faded furniture, and a single television sits in the corner. Space is limited, David explains, so the boys often have to take turns or share the room for different activities.
The dining area is crowded, with multiple tables squeezed together to fit everyone during mealtimes. The kitchen seems small for the number of residents. Several workers wearing white aprons are preparing dinner. It smells like spaghetti, I think.
The bedrooms are all similar, with bunk beds. Sometimes four beds, and sometimes six. I don’t know which one will be mine. There’s a small locker for each person, and the rooms are cluttered.
“You’ll get a designated time for showering each morning,” David tells me. “Mornings will be hectic, but you’ll get used to it. Older kids have to shower more often than what you’re used to at the old home.”
“Great,” I mumble.
A multipurpose room serves as both a study area and recreation space. Desks with computers line one side, while the other side has a few tables for board games and homework. The small yard has a single basketball hoop and limited additional space for outdoor activities. Inside, a corner of the multipurpose room has a few exercise mats and some basic gym equipment.
Then of course there are the offices and meeting rooms for the counselors and staff. David knocks on one of them.
“Come in,” says a voice.
David opens the door. “Hey, Leon,” he says.
“Good to see you, Dave.”
“This is Dragon Locke.”
Leon comes around from his desk and holds out his hand. “Good to meet you, buddy.”
I reluctantly shake his hand. Leon seems nice enough, but he doesn’t look much older than eighteen himself.
“Leon will take it from here,” David says as he tousles my hair.
I like David well enough, but I won’t miss that hair stuff. One day I’m going to wear my hair long so no one can mess with it.
“You take care of yourself and behave,” David continues. “And remember, my door is always open.”
Right. What a crock. David won’t give me a second thought once he’s out of here. At least not until he brings in the next thirteen-year-old. Then he might remember me. Or he might not.
“All right, Dragon,” Leon says. “Let me show you to your new digs.”
My “new digs” turn out to be a room with eight beds. Funny that David didn’t show me any rooms with eight beds. Only with four and six.
“Most of the boys in here are around your age. One of them is fifteen.”
I simply nod.
“See that bed in the corner?” He points. “Top bunk? That’ll be yours. You can put your things in the small drawers on the nightstand.”
“Great.”
“Go ahead and get settled in. You’ll meet your roommates at dinner tonight.”
“Leon?” I say.
“Yeah?”
I swallow. “I heard what those big boys said.”
He raises an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“They said ‘new meat.’”
“Yeah, that’s what they say when a new kid gets here.” He chuckles lightly. “Don’t pay them any mind. I’ll give them a talking to.”
While I appreciate Leon, the guys who said it are bigger than he is.
“Leon?” I say again.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“How old are you?”
He cocks his head, pressing his lips together. “I don’t know what that has anything to do with anything, but I’m twenty-three.”
“I see.” I look around the room. “Did you grow up in a place like this?”
“No.”
“Figures,” I say under my breath.
He takes a step toward me. “What’s that, my man?”
“Nothing.” I blink. “What’s for supper?”
“Well, it’s Wednesday, Dragon, so that means spaghetti and meatballs.”
Yeah, that’s what I thought I smelled in the kitchen. My memories of home get blurrier and blurrier, but one thing I still recall is that my mother made good spaghetti and meatballs. Her grandmother from Italy taught her how to cook. The spaghetti at the other home was bleh .
“Okay,” I say.
“Hope you weren’t expecting filet mignon or anything?”
“What’s that?”
Leon laughs. “That’s the right answer, my man.” He points to my bed. “Unpack your things. Then we’ll take a tour.”
“David already showed me around.”
“I know, but it’ll take a while for you to remember where everything is, so we’ll go again.”
Leon watches as I unpack my very few belongings from the duffel bag. Once everything is in the drawers, I shove the duffel bag under the bottom bunk.
“All right, let’s take the tour, then.”
Leon shows me the common area with the TV again. One TV for all these kids. Same as the old home. I’ve learned not to care what’s on TV. I try to spend my time reading or doing my homework. Summers are the worst. You know how most kids look forward to summers?
When you live in a group home, and there’s no school or homework to pass the time, you have to find something else to do. Sometimes that means getting into trouble. Getting into fights. I went through that at the old home, and I’m determined not to go through it again.
The outdoor areas aren’t bad. Basketball court. Asphalt. Benches. A little bit of grass.
Then of course the dining room. Long tables, all set up cafeteria style.
Same as the other home.
Sometimes, I can remember what it felt like to sit at a table at home in the kitchen. Griffin still in her booster seat, and Mom serving spaghetti and meatballs. My favorite.
“All right, man,” Leon says. “I do believe it’s the dinner hour. Let me take you to the dining room, and maybe we’ll see some of your roommates there.”
We enter the cafeteria, and Leon gestures to two kids. They come toward us. “Miguel, Zachary, this is your new roommate. Dragon.”
They both drop their jaws.
“That’s seriously your name?” the one named Zachary says.
“Says so on my birth certificate,” I say.
I’ve been saying that since I got to the other home. Truth of the matter is, I’ve never seen my birth certificate. Once I’m eighteen and get the hell out of here, I’m going to find it and see if Dragon is truly my name. My mother swore it is. Says she had a thing for mythological creatures, so that’s why she named me Dragon and named my sister Griffin.
Zachary sticks out his hand. “I’m Zach.”
“Good to meet you,” I say.
“Miguel,” the other one says. “You can call me Mike.”
“Okay, Zach, Mike.”
“You two show Dragon how things work here,” Leon says. “This is his first meal.”
“Yeah, sure,” Mike says.
“Come on, Dragon.” From Zach.
New meat.
I follow Mike and Zach to the front where a line is already formed.
A couple of older boys shove Mike out of the way. “Go to the back.”
Leon clears his throat.
“Sorry, Leon,” one of the boys says.
“Fuck,” Zach says. “We’ll pay for that later.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Mike says. “Just close your eyes. And remember, one day you will be the big one.”
Present day…
I stand out on the balcony, looking at the dark night. The stars over Taos.
So many secrets I’m still hiding.
As much as I’d like to be with Diana—try to make a life with her—it’s not in the cards for me. I’m broken.
A broken man.
Seeing my mother tonight only confirmed it.
She’s as broken as I am, perhaps more so.
And I hope she is.
She abandoned one child because she didn’t believe in his innocence. I was nine years old. I didn’t even understand what was happening. I picked up the bloody knife because that’s what little boys do. They put their hands on everything. They try to figure things out.
And when their little sister who they adore is screaming, has been cut on her face and on her body with blood soaking through her pink pajamas with little blue hearts, they get angry.
I was angry.
I was scared.
I was just a little boy.
Tim said those things to me so many times during our sessions. Those exact words.
Dragon, you were just a little boy.
I know that.
But my mother and father didn’t.
I always thought my father and I were close. He was the one who saw something in me. The one who said, “Stevie, that boy is going to be a drummer.” The one who bought me my first drum when Griffin was just a baby.
How could he turn on me?
How do you choose one child over another?
How do you believe the worst of your nine-year-old son?
I can never be a parent, that’s for sure.
No way will I risk doing to an innocent child what my parents did to me.
From my balcony, I hear the opening click of the door to Diana’s room, and then a few quick barks from Teddy.
“That’s right, boy, you’re getting a bath.”
Diana’s voice.
Diana’s sweet and angelic voice.
I’m the one who took the dog, but Diana is the one who will take care of him. Nurture him. She’ll make a good mother.
But I would make a terrible father. I don’t know how to nurture. And I know even less about teaching a child how to be a good and moral human being. How can you teach something that you’re not?
I sigh, take one last look at the stars, and then head back into my room.