1 #3
“Call your dad,” Tean said to Daniel. The words were thin because he was breathing hard himself, even though he hadn’t done anything—hadn’t done anything, just stood there and watched. “Daniel, did you hear me?”
Daniel started, and his eyes came to Tean. They were wet, and he was blinking.
“It’s okay,” Tean said, keeping his voice as soft as he could. “Call your dad.”
With a nod, Daniel pulled out his phone. But his hands were shaking, and as he tried to place the call, he started to cry.
Tean knelt next to Wendell, but the man twisted away from him.
“Don’t touch me!” His nose was bleeding, and the rug of gray hair had pulled away from his scalp in back, exposing the adhesive strips that were supposed to be holding it in place.
He touched his face and stared at the blood on his hands, and then he got to his feet, dragging himself up with one hand on the wall.
When Tean reached out to steady him, he snapped, “Get the fuck off me!” Wendell cast a wild glance around the room, at all the faces staring back at him, and broke into a shuffling run toward the front of the house.
Daniel was talking into his phone. Sobbing into it.
“Keep an eye on him,” Tean told the doe-eyed boy. Justin, Tean reminded himself. His name was Justin. “I’ll be right back.”
Outside, the cold came at Tean from every direction, the breeze shifting and then shifting and then shifting again.
The sounds of traffic floated in from the street, and beneath them, barely audible, Jem’s labored breathing.
Tean’s soles scuffed the steps as he went down.
An old tread creaked. And then frozen grass crunched as he started across the lawn.
There weren’t any lights back here, and what reached them from the street was barely enough to suggest outlines: the bulk of Rainbow House, and the pickets of the sagging fence, the shed where they stored all the equipment for summer games.
And Jem, a silhouette pacing back and forth.
When Tean got closer, he could see Jem’s fists were still clenched, his shoulders tight. He took a moment, trying to think of what to say. And then he asked, “Are you okay?”
Jem spun toward him, and the movement was so fast and so unexpected that Tean had to fight the urge to step back. But all Jem did was point a finger back at Rainbow House, and the light and warmth spilling out of the back door. “Did you see that?”
Yes, Tean thought. Yes, I saw it. But he said, “See what?”
“Did you see him with Daniel? Jesus Christ, Tean, did you see?”
“Yes. Jem, what—”
“He was about five seconds from putting his hand down his pants. Did you see that?”
This time, Tean didn’t say anything.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jem’s laugh was short and ugly, and he wheeled away again, taking those fast, furious strides before he turned back toward Tean.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. There’s no way this is real.
” He stopped. He put his hands to his head.
In the darkness, it was difficult to tell, but Tean thought maybe Jem was pressing hard, like he was trying to hold himself together.
His voice was different—the anger still there, but now under an incredible strain, like it was about to break. “Oh my God, this cannot be real.”
“Jem,” Tean said quietly, “take a breath. I don’t know what’s going on, but everything’s going to be okay. Can you take a breath with me?”
From inside Rainbow House came raised voices.
When Jem spoke again, the forced calm was even worse, somehow, than the strain.
He was still barely more than a shadow, and somehow that made him seem much, much younger as he wiped his eyes.
“I’m good. I’m okay. Sorry about that.” Another laugh, this one disbelieving rather than angry. “I promise I’m not crazy.”
Tean’s phone started to buzz.
“I know him,” Jem said. He laughed again, and now it was angry. And the edge in his voice was too sharp for humor when he continued, “He was my foster dad. One of them.”
The phone was still buzzing.
On the other side of what felt like thick fog, something in Tean’s brain recognized that it was probably Ammon calling. That Daniel had called him, sobbing and incoherent, and Ammon was undoubtedly panicking.
Tean didn’t let himself think about it too much. He answered the phone with “Hey, everything’s okay, but I think you should come down here.”
The silence lasted a beat too long. And then Tean’s dad said, “What?”
“Dad?”
“What’s going on?” His father’s voice was stiff. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Everything’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m in the middle of something. Can I call you later?”
“Your grandfather passed away tonight.”
Tean wasn’t sure how long it took before he said, “What?”
“Your grandfather is dead,” he said. “We’re all getting together at my place.”
“Oh. Dad, I’m sorry. How are you doing?”
“I’m all right.”
Jem was still standing there. Still a shadow.
“Dad, I’m really sorry. I’m handling something right now, and it’s kind of an emergency. Can I call you in a bit—”
“You’re always busy. You don’t need to call back.”