Chapter 4 - Everett
Cooper spins in the desk chair, staring at the ceiling. He only does this when he’s upset about something but doesn’t want to talk about it. I feel so useless when he gets like this.
“What can I do to help, LB? I know you don’t wanna talk about whatever’s goin’ on with you, but surely there’s somethin’ that I can do.”
“I don’t know, Teddy. My thoughts are just movin’ too fast. When I try to get one of them out, another one pops up. I just need them to slow down for a while.”
“Drawing normally helps you calm down, right?” I ask, a silly idea coming to mind.
“Yeah, but all we have is markers. I don’t like using those as much. They always run on the paper.”
“What if you could color on something besides paper?”
“What else is there to color on?”
“Me,” I say as I hold my arms out by my side. LB just looks at me like I’m crazy. Maybe I am.
“You want me to draw…on you?”
“Sure. Why not? You used to love doing those connect-the-dot things. I’m like one giant connect-the-dot with all my freckles. Or you can just call it a tattoo. Either way, I’m here. Color on me.”
Excitement shines in his eyes, telling me he’s interested. “Okay, let’s do this. Take your shirt off and lie face down on the bed. I’ll get the markers,” he says.
I follow his instructions, and the bed dips as he straddles my hips. “You gotta be still. I’m gonna be mad if you make me mess up.”
I smile at his sass, knowing good and well he’s serious. LB doesn’t play when it comes to art. I rest my cheek on my folded arms and take a big breath, allowing my body to relax into the bed. “All yours,” I say as I close my eyes.
He draws for about an hour, and I’m surprised by how relaxing I find it. I actually end up falling asleep before he finishes. His high-pitched “Done!” startles me awake.
“What did ya draw?”
“A dragon. It’s super cool! It’s too bad you can’t see it. Maybe next time, I’ll do your arm so you don’t miss out.”
“Next time? So this helped then? You feel better?”
“I feel loads better. My thoughts aren’t movin’ so fast anymore. Thank you for thinkin’ of this, Teddy! Actually, roll over, and let me see your arm now. I wanna draw some more while I tell you about what my parents did.”
I roll over and hold my arm out to him. He latches on and immediately starts outlining something I can’t make out just yet.
He’s quiet for a little while. Whatever they did must have really hurt him.
He isn’t known for his silence. Some people might start asking questions, but I know better.
LB will talk when he’s ready and not a moment before.
A few more minutes go by before he starts.
“I don’t mean to cause trouble. You know I don’t.
Sometimes I just can’t help it, though.” He takes a shuddering breath before going on with his story.
“I got distracted in Mrs. Bradley’s class on Monday.
We were supposed to be takin’ a test, but all I could think about is how we’re s’posed to be gettin’ snow soon.
I got to thinkin’ about how maybe we’ll get enough this year to have a real proper snowball war and maybe even try sledding down that big hill across the tracks.
“Well, before I knew it, Mrs. Bradley was collecting the tests, and I’d only answered three questions.
I begged her for more time, but she said I’d had enough, and maybe next time I’d pay attention to the real world and keep my head out of the clouds.
I don’t mean to get lost in my head, Teddy.
I wish people wouldn’t think so bad of me when I do.
It’s not on purpose. I just float away sometimes. ”
He’s stopped coloring, so I pull him in for a hug.
I know how much it hurts him when people are mean about how easily distracted he is.
A quiet sniffle has me squeezing him tighter.
The pressure always helps him feel better.
When he starts to pull back, I release him easily and put my arm back into his hand.
“Anyway, the tests went home yesterday. I had to get mine signed. I took it to Mom after bedtime. She’s always the most out of it then, but yesterday was one of Mom and Dad’s bad days.
I guess their supply ran out earlier that day, so they weren’t as spaced out as they’d normally be.
Instead, they were just jittery and mean.
Mom called me a stupid waste of space. I know I should have kept my mouth shut, but we’d had that run-in with Benny earlier.
I was already fired up, and my mouth spoke before my brain could catch up.
It wasn’t even as bad as what normally comes out.
All I said was that I must get it from her.
Of course, for the first time in forever, she was paying attention to me and caught it.
“She started yelling at me, which brought Dad in the room to see what was going on. When she told him what I’d said, he punched me for ‘disrespecting his wife.’ Never mind that his wife had just called his son, his flesh and blood, a ‘stupid waste of space.’”
My skin is on fire. I’m surprised I’m not shaking with how mad I am. Someone upsetting LB is the only thing that’s ever really made me mad. With my free hand, I touch the bruise on his jaw. “Is this from him?” My voice doesn’t even sound like me.
Tears fill his eyes. He gives a barely there nod before shoving all the markers out of the way and gluing himself to my side. In between sobs, I hear the words that shatter my heart. “I just don’t get it, Teddy. Why do they hate me so much?”
“I don’t know, LB,” I rasp out as I run my fingers through his curls. “It doesn’t make any sense to me, but I’ll make you a promise, ok? I promise to spend the rest of our lives loving you enough for the whole world.”
I hold him for the rest of the afternoon until his rumbling stomach pulls us out of our bubble to search for some food.
This became a routine for us. Whenever he got stressed out, he’d use me as a canvas until he was calm enough to talk about whatever had him so worked up. LB got real good at drawing, and I got real good at listening.