Tears and Dirt #4
Kristen lifted her hand and knocked, skipping the doorbell. At this hour, I guessed she didn’t want to wake everyone inside. I wasn’t sure who would open the door, but I blinked at the man who appeared, looking around the same age my father would have been.
Where my pops wore leather, boots, his cut, and a skully, this man wore khaki pants, dress shoes, a button-down shirt, and a sweater vest. My father had numerous tattoos.
This man had zero. Where my father had grown out his hair, the man before me was going bald with a cut that kept his hair cropped close to his head.
Different eye color. Different features.
They were nothing alike.
Somehow, that made it easier.
“Hello, Johnny. I’m Dale Weathers. Come on in.”
The door swung wide and I stepped inside as I clutched the duffel bag strap tighter, already feeling like the walls and the night were closing in, suffocating me.
Kristen set my suitcase beside me. “Thanks, Dale. I’ll be back tomorrow at three.”
Dale seemed to understand what that meant without asking additional questions. “We’ll be ready.”
We, not me. Weird.
I didn’t dwell on it.
Kristen lifted her hand to touch my shoulder, thought better of it, and dropped it. “I’m so sorry for the circumstances, but glad to have finally met you.” She handed me a card. “As you saw, I’m always on call for my kids.”
My jaw ticked. I was nobody’s kid but Noma’s, yet felt a ping of relief that she was in my corner.
Seemingly not surprised that I didn’t respond, she softly said, “Get some rest.”
Again, I didn’t reply as she left, closing the door behind her and sealing my fate inside my new foster house. It felt like a betrayal, which was ridiculous. I just met her.
Dale cleared his throat. “You’ve got your own room. I had one left. It’s a little different since most everyone else shares, but I think you’ll like it.”
I gave him a nod, snatching my suitcase as he went to grab it, and followed him up a set of stairs. We passed through a long hallway with multiple doors on both sides, all closed except for one. Dale pointed at it. “There’s a bathroom.”
Then we made it to another set of stairs. They were enclosed and led up to a third floor. There, we entered an old attic. Most of the junk was piled off to one side, stacked neatly with boxes on the left side of the stairs.
The half on the right had been turned into a bedroom.
Privacy screens blocked three-quarters of the space until we walked around them.
I found a bed with clean sheets and a thick blanket folded on top, a tall dresser, a desk with a chair, and a nightstand.
There were two bright lamps in the room, which gave plenty of light for studying, and a ceiling fan centered above the bed.
“This is yours for however long you’re here. I’ll let you get settled in. Need any help?”
I looked down at the duffle bag in my hand, then my very first words to this man were, “Do you have a freezer?”
He blinked, probably not expecting the question. Or scared the new kid was into storing bodies… “Uh, actually, we do. A big one in the garage.”
Feeling lost, I gave a slight shrug. My throat threatened to close. “She was a good cook.”
Dale grabbed his chest as if I had just punched him there. “It would be an honor to help you save her food.” Then he offered a hand for my bag.
Feeling like I was handing over all I had left of the woman I adored, I gave him the bag.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Since you like food, you might be happy to know breakfast will be ready at seven. We always cook a hot one for everyone in the house to start their day off right.” Dale shifted from foot to foot and then smiled. “I’m glad you’re here. Welcome, Johnny.”
I opened my mouth to reply, couldn’t find the words, and just nodded.
Dale didn’t seem to mind that I didn’t speak much. He left me alone, descending the stairs where I heard him shut the door at the bottom.
Cut off from the rest of the house, I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or even more lonely. Every single thing around me was foreign. Even the air. It didn’t smell like Noma. It didn’t have the fresh scent of leaves and dirt.
I miss the fucking plants.
My stomach growled, and my dry tongue begged for fluids. I hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink since Noma passed.
I thought of the bathroom I’d been shown, for possibly some water, but feared the water wouldn’t dance for me.
What if she’s gone, too?
My backpack slid off my caving shoulders, so I set it on the desk. Within seconds, my knees caved, also. Sitting on the bed, I stared at my shoes, wondering how they managed to carry me this far.
The suitcase parked beside the dresser told me it needed to be unpacked; however, I couldn’t muster the strength. It made this nightmare all that more real.
Energy suddenly seeped away.
I wanted to fade away.
As if only an observer of my own life, I watched my hand lift and switch off the lamp.
Isolated in the dark, I laid back in the bed and closed my eyes, trying not to focus on the reason I arrived here.
It didn’t work.
The darkness became cold, silent, and heavy as it surrounded me. I think it even whispered, You’re all alone.