4. Then
4
THEN
Age 4
Y ou know that moment—the moment when you meet someone and realize they are the love of your life? It hits you like a ton of bricks, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. They are now a prisoner to your love, and if you're lucky enough, you’re a prisoner to theirs as well.
Cassie and Matthew were far too young to realize when this moment transpired between the pair, but it did. It was an ordinary Tuesday morning and Matthew was sweeping the floor of the old rundown home when the doorbell rang. His latest foster mother, Mrs. Davis, went to answer it, turning back to Matthew and giving him a stern look before putting her fakest smile on as she answered the door.
A middle-aged woman in a pantsuit and a pig-tailed little girl stood outside. The girl had long brown hair and hazel eyes that were doe-eyed and excited. She looked inside the house, spotted Matthew, and took off toward him. She tackled him and wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug.
This had taken Matthew aback, and he looked up at the girl, puzzled, as she scrunched her nose. Being four years old and painfully shy didn't help his current position, in which a girl was pinning him down.
Matthew’s background was a heartbreaking one. He never had much to be happy about, let alone laugh. Matthew had been in Mrs. Davis’s care for three years, never once having a reason to express joy. But Matthew was laughing. Laughing was an understatement—he was hysterical.
Cassie, the little girl who’d tackled Matthew, joined in on his laughing fit and plopped off him, lying next to him on the kitchen floor. The crumbs that Matthew was collecting before his ambush were scattered everywhere, making their way onto the pair's hair and clothing.
The social worker had Mrs. Davis sign some documents before calling Cassie over to explain what was going to happen next. She would leave, and Cassie would stay there with Mrs. Davis and Matthew.
Cassie looked at Mrs. Baker, her caseworker, intently as only a four-year-old could. "I get to stay here? With him?" She pointed to Matthew and screamed, charging after him for another hug.
Knowing what to expect this time, Matthew started running, thinking of a good hiding spot.
Coming from an only-child household made Cassie jovial seeing Matthew, another little person. The excitement of being in a new space was palpable. Cassie didn’t realize she was staying here for the unforeseeable future. She just thought Mrs. Baker was leaving her for a playdate. After she left, Mrs. Davis led her upstairs to a small bedroom.
“Cassie, you must put your items away and out of sight. I don’t like clutter.” Mrs. Davis pointed her finger at Cassie and gave her a sharp look.
Cassie was clueless as to why she was acting so mean to her. Cassie remembered how kind she was when Mrs. Baker was still there. However, Cassie couldn’t come up with a reason for the sudden change.
“Yes, Miss Helen.” She gave her a toothy smile and began unpacking. She pulled her belongings from her knapsack and arranged them on her bed.
The quiet atmosphere of the New Jersey suburb was a change of pace for Cassie, as she was used to loud and noisy New York City.
Maybe I will learn to ride a bike. Daddy always said we needed space to learn , she thought optimistically.
Matthew looked at Cassie as though she was an alien. His foster brothers and sisters were all hardened by the lifestyle that came from being unwanted, so to see someone his age so happy made him curious. He was used to unhappy people, but this brightness in Cassie made him almost feel joy for the first time in his life.
Matthew peered into Cassie’s shared room, not knowing what to do. He just knew he wanted to be near the weird, happy girl.
Helen had decorated the small bedroom as crappily and basically as possible. The walls were bare apart from a black and white generic framed photograph next to the one window in the room. There were bunk beds made of cheap cherry-colored plywood. The comforters on the beds were pale pink.
The only other pop of color came from Cassie’s yellow blanket, embossed with her name in cursive—a present from her Uncle Maverick for her last birthday.
“Matthew. Oh, Matthew.” Cassie had a flare for the dramatics. She pulled his hand, and Matthew jolted backward, never one for being touched. “Look at my favorite book. It’s the Velvetta Rabbit.”
The book The Velveteen Rabbit had become Cassie’s favorite story. It was also one of the few personal items she was allowed to take to her new home.
Matthew took the book when she offered it to him and looked at it front and back. He smiled because she smiled. Neither one could read it, apart from Cassie memorizing a few lines here and there, but it gave her comfort, and she would need all the comfort she could get.
“Nice,” Matthew said while scratching the scars on his arms that were covered by his long sleeves.
Cassie wasn’t accustomed to such a strict and disciplined household. Her parents were free spirits and certainly didn’t have a four-year-old cleaning the bathroom tiles with a toothbrush like she was ordered as soon as she’d unpacked her small bag.
The cleaning was not the only thing Cassie wasn’t used to. It turned out the Davises had several other foster children besides Matthew.
Flynn was the oldest at eight, and Lana and Logan, the fraternal twins, were seven. Flynn had shaggy, long brown hair and was gangly. He was in anger management due to his previous traumas. Lana was a blond-haired, blue-eyed cherub- looking child, except her looks were deceiving. Lana was conniving and cunning. Logan was a heavy-set blond-haired boy with blue eyes. He was also very quiet and very rarely spoke, except to his sister.
Not only was the house suddenly crowded and noisy, but Mrs. Davis liked to yell at more than just the children. At dinner, she and her husband, a portly man with greasy blond hair, bickered nonstop. She called him foul names and glared at him. He seemed unfazed but met her venom with some of his own.
The volume of their arguing grew louder, and Matthew covered his green eyes with one hand and pulled at his already untamable hair. Cassie watched the scene, wide-eyed and baffled. She had never heard those words before.
The Davises left the dinner table and holed up inside their bedroom where they went back and forth screaming at one another. The children had scrambled up the stairs right after them and lined up outside the door, eavesdropping. Cassie was horrified; she had never heard people screaming with such force before. While her father had been stern with Cassie throughout the years, saying not to shove peas in her nose or climb the kitchen cabinets, this type of behavior was foreign to her. Cassie was terrified and looking at Matthew made her feel uneasy. He had his hands over his ears at this point. Cassie mimicked his action, figuring it was safe if he was doing it.
Eventually, Helen came out of the bedroom, and everyone hurried away from the door. Unfortunately, Cassie was unaware of the protocol and got stuck outside the bedroom, despite Matthew’s failed attempt at pulling her away. Cassie gasped at Helen’s change in appearance; her face had marks and her arm was bleeding from scratches up and down. Helen didn’t pause to comfort Cassie, obviously shocked at seeing and hearing this type of display for the first time in her life. Cassie cried, feeling sad and lonely. She eventually was summoned to eat dinner.
While Cassie wiped her eyes, attempting to stop the tears, Helen and the other children ate their spaghetti and meatballs. Thankfully a chair was open next to Matthew’s so Cassie slid in beside him.
“Let’s go around the table and talk about our days. Lana, why don’t you start?” Mrs. Davis attempted to keep her voice even.
The girl’s eyes narrowed. “It was fine.”
“Just fine, Lana? Anything interesting happen in school today?” Helen got up from her chair and made her way over to the bar cart, pouring herself a glass of vodka. “Go on,” she urged as Lana pursed her lips.
Helen skipped over Lana. “Logan?” Helen pleaded with the soft-spoken boy.
“Good day.” He passed her a piece of paper that he was hiding in his hoodie.
“101 on a science quiz. Super!”
Flynn didn’t even wait for Helen to call on him. “My day was great. First, Alexander Fulton taught the boy’s locker room what going to third base was?—”
A cracking sound rang out in the room as Helen slapped Flynn on the head and muttered, “Knock it off.”
It was Matthew’s turn next. He played with his hands and looked down. “I cleaned everything you asked.” He gave a small smile and peered over at Cassie who was still teary-eyed. The more she looked at Helen’s bruised face, the more unsettled she became.
Helen turned to Cassie, but Cassie didn’t understand what she was supposed to say. Nobody addressed her specifically, and she was too distracted by the craziness.
Helen’s expectant stare made her uncomfortable, so she moved as close as possible to the wild-haired little boy.
The chair screeched and it jolted back in the direction Cassie had moved it from as Cassie got dragged away from Matthew.
“Don’t move the chair, you little brat! Eat your food. This entire mess is all your fault anyway.”
Cassie looked at Helen, puzzled. Then she crossed her arms defiantly and blew a raspberry. “I don’t want p’sghatti. I want to go home! I want my mommy. And my dad and Uncle Maverick!” Cassie was now sobbing uncontrollably.
“Eat, you little …!” Helen screamed before continuing, moving her head to look the terrified little girl in the eye.
Spaghetti landed in Helen’s hair with a splat, sliding down onto the floor, along the front of Matthew’s shirt, and even a little got stuck on the ceiling.
The other children looked on in horror. Matthew cringed and put his head down on the table. Cassie kept throwing spaghetti until Helen grabbed her wrist and hauled her to her new room. She locked the door and walked away, ignoring Cassie’s pleas for the light to be turned on or to be let out.
A little while later, Lana entered the room, taking inventory of Cassie’s appearance. But instead of providing sympathy, she scoffed and climbed up to the top bunk. Cassie hated the dark and had never been without a nightlight, so she was becoming paralyzed with fear of getting out of bed in the darkness.
The door peeled open with a creak, revealing a flashlight and a figure walking toward her bunk. She hid under her blankie as her breathing became irregular, and she shook like a leaf.
Once the lighted figure came closer, she peeked one eye out from the blanket, discovering it was no monster but a pajama-clad Matthew, tiny flashlight in hand.
He sat next to Cassie on the bed and held her hand. Matthew didn't know what he was doing but he knew he didn't want to be apart from this strange, brave little girl. A brave little girl who could be a friend; he never had one of those before.
Cassie showed him her Velveteen Rabbit book, which had become somewhat of a security blanket for her on top of her actual security blanket. The unlikely pair snuggled on the bed, flipping through the pages. Cassie fell asleep quickly, whereas Matthew was always a night owl. Cassie’s blanket fell to the floor as she rolled into a comfortable position.
Matthew tugged it gently back on the bed and pulled it over Cassie’s small frame. He smiled—he knew this was the start of something beautiful and real.
The page that lay open on the bed read:
“You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”