13. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
Morrie
T here was water dripping from the ceiling.
Scott had just dropped me off after the afternoon at the market, giving me another kiss before I left his vehicle, and as I'd stumbled up the stairs I'd been filled with something that felt dangerously close to happiness. I’d come right to my bedroom to get changed into comfy clothes, but instead I found myself stuck in the middle of the room, head tilted upwards as I watched water dropping onto a pile of clothes on the floor from the center of the brown spot on my ceiling. I stared at it for a long while, absolutely dumbstruck, wondering what I was supposed to do about that as panic crept into my body.
“It’s just a little drip,” I murmured, watching the water soak the pile of clothing beneath it. “Just a little one.”
I didn’t know why, but I felt the need to touch it, to be sure that it was just a little drip. Standing on my tippy toes, I reached up and gently poked the ceiling, exhaling a surprised breath when my finger poked right through the soggy, soft roof.
“Oh no,” I whispered, pulling my finger free from the little hole I’d created. It had been snowing all afternoon, but the sun was shining so as the snow had landed, it had also been melting into puddles. I hadn’t anticipated that with that melting, my roof inside my apartment would soak through and leak into my bedroom. “Oh no. Oh no. Please no.”
I ran to the bathroom to wash my hands, uncertain if I’d just touched something I shouldn’t have, before returning to my room to stare at the water again. I knew I needed to call my landlord, but I hesitated. He was an ass who probably wouldn’t come over right away, if he even answered the phone to accept my call, that was. I glanced down at the pile of clothing that was getting soaked by the water and alarm rushed through me.
My fucking work clothes.
Of course it was my work clothes getting wet with gross roof water. I rushed forward and scooped them into my hands, soaking the shirt I was wearing through as I carried them away from the trickle of water. I deposited them onto the floor by my bed, but now the dripping was wetting the dingy carpet and that was probably worse. I pictured whatever was lingering in the carpets mixing with the water, turning my floor into a toxic sludge. I cringed at the thought, but like a bolt out of the blue, what I needed to do hit me. If ever there was a time a boy needed his Daddy, I was pretty sure this was it. Besides, Scott did apartments and buildings for a living. He could probably help somehow. He had a whole group of people working on the apartment a few places away from mine, maybe they could come help if he didn't know what to do. At the very least, it felt like a better option that calling my landlord and waiting for him to decide whether or not it was big enough thing to get his ass off the couch to come deal with.
Pulling out my phone, I dialed Scott’s number and waited, watching the water drop from the hole I’d created with my finger. When he answered, he sounded alarmed and I rushed a greeting before dropping the bombshell on him.
“There’s water dripping into my apartment.”
“There’s what?”
“Water. Dripping into my apartment. From outside. The roof, I think? Maybe the shingles? I made a hole with my finger and it’s soggy.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Thank you.”
As I got off the call, I started bundling up my dirty clothing, knowing that I’d have to do laundry at some point tonight because I worked tomorrow morning. It took a couple of trips, but soon I'd finished hauling the clothes into the kitchenette, dropping them right by the front door. I'd take them down to the wash later on, but for now they could stay right there. A knock came to the door when I was on my way back to the bedroom to stare at the hole some more because I still couldn't believe this was happening. Returning to the front of the apartment, I opened it, stepping over the mound of clothing, to find Scott standing there, His face was full of concern and he stepped into my apartment as I kicked some of the clothes out of the way.
“Thank you,” I said, as he entered. “I didn’t know what to do. My landlord likely won’t come tonight and I don’t think it’s a good thing to have water dripping into my apartment. I figured maybe you could fix it temporarily until he gets his shit together. Keep your shoes on, it’s gross.”
“I’ll take a look, but I can’t guarantee anything,” Scott said, his face sombre. He reached out and gave my shoulder a little squeeze in passing as he made his way to the bedroom. I followed behind, hoping he’d have ideas for what I could do to keep the water out and dry things up in here for a few days. When I came to stand by his side, though, he turned to me with a sad smile on his lips.
“It’s bad, Morrie. I can’t fix this tonight.”
“Could your guy? That friend who does construction?”
He shook his head, sadly. “No, Morrie. It needs a lot of work. How long has that brown stain been there?”
“I don’t know,” I offered, with a shrug. “I saw it a couple of weeks ago. Three weeks maybe? Four?”
“Oh, Morrie. You should have said something then.”
I bristled a bit at the words. “You didn’t say anything when you were over here tucking me into bed that one night and it was there then. You don’t know what it’s like, Scott. Okay? He doesn’t fix anything. Have you seen the building?”
Scott nodded then sighed. “I didn’t see it that night, I’m sorry. I would have said something about it then. You can’t stay here Morrie, not with water dripping in from outside. It’s not safe. We need to call your landlord right away, but you can’t stay here tonight. Maybe not for a while.”
“This is my home,” I protested, feeling panic grip my heart inside. “I have nowhere to go. I can’t afford a hotel. I don’t have enough money and I work tomorrow. I work tomorrow, Scott. This is my home. I live here. All my stuff is here. Where am I supposed to go?”
Scott moved until he was right in front of me so all I could see with my wide eyes were his own. “Breathe, brave boy. Just breathe.”
“It’s my home,” I squeaked out, through the tightness in my throat. “I don’t have anything else. Please don’t make me leave. Please. I can’t lose another home, Daddy. I can’t.”
Scott made a noise of surprise and before I knew it, he was wrapping me up in his arms as I resisted the urge to shove him away. His hand stroked the back of my head and he held me there, in my shitty apartment full of dripping water and dirty clothing, cooing soft noises into my ears. I hated it. I loved it. My body was a wreck of sensation and prickles, but the longer he held me, pressed against me chest to chest, the more I settled down.
“I can’t lose another home,” I whispered into the fabric of his jacket. “Please, Daddy. Don’t make me lose another home.”
“I’m so sorry. It’s not safe at all. Maybe your landlord will have better options, but right now, I need you to be warm and safe. Do you understand that? I need my boy to be warm and safe tonight.”
I understood, but all I could feel was sadness rolling through me like a tidal wave at the thought that I was being removed from another place I’d tried to call home through no fault of my own. Scott gently let me go, but held onto my shoulders, looking into my eyes.
“Pack whatever you need for the next week, okay? I’ll go call your landlord and let him know what's going on.”
“I have laundry to do,” I said, remembering the pile of clothing on the kitchen floor.
“We can do laundry at my house, okay?” Scott said, giving my shoulders a tiny squeeze.
“I can come back, right?” I asked, reminding myself that this was a tiny hole in a ceiling and it could be fixed.
Scott nodded slowly, though he looked uncertain. “When the ceiling is fixed, you can come back. In the meantime, there is one very adorable reindeer waiting for snuggles at my house and a new blanket that needs a boy wrapped in it.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, feeling a bit lighter. “Blitzen. I could do blitzen. Can I have blitzen?”
“The reindeer or the little time? This could be very confusing. Maybe we need a new word.”
“Both.”
Scott laughed softly. “Okay. You go pack your things and I’ll make my phone calls. When we get to my house, we’ll get you into a nice warm bath, I’ll make you a good dinner and then I’ll tuck you into bed with Blitzen and Mr. Starkey.”
“I don’t like bath time,” I responded, frowning a little bit.
“Humor me?” Scott asked. “It’s cold in here and I don’t like the thought of my boy being cold.”
Slowly, I nodded. He was right, it was chilly in the apartment as it always was and I was sure the hole in the ceiling wasn’t helping matters. He leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on my cheek that surprised me, before leaving me behind to pack up my things.
As I gathered clothing from the floor, I could hear Scott murmuring in the kitchen on his phone. While I knew I should have called my landlord myself, the thought of doing it had made my stomach churn and I was okay with him taking control of the situation. I was sure that if I hadn't thought to call him, I'd still be standing in my bedroom, staring at the roof as it dripped water on my floor. When I had all the clothes I wanted to take with me in a pile, I stood up and looked around the room for my backpack, heart thunking a bit harder in my chest as I couldn't find it. With a sudden realization, my heart sank.
My backpack was in the pile with my work clothes. I usually kept it with them so that I could take a change of clothes if I got too soaked doing the dishes and it was the only bag I had. No, that wasn't right. There was another option and the mere thought of it brought tears to my eyes.
“Garbage bags,” I whispered, the words catching in my throat as I said them out loud to myself.
It wouldn’t be the first time in my life things I owned and loved were placed into garbage bags though I had hoped the last time would truly be the last. I inhaled a few deep breaths, staving off the sorrow that was creeping up inside me as I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingers to try and keep the tears from running down my face. When I had settled a little bit, I took another long, deep breath feeling the air sink into my lungs as my heart slowed down in my chest again. Maybe if I didn’t think about what I was doing too much, it wouldn’t hurt as bad as it could. Leaving my room behind, I put on the bravest face I could muster and headed for the kitchen to grab a box of black garbage bags to pack my stuff in, as I’d done time and time again when I'd been a little boy that nobody wanted.