Authors: Brenda Kearns
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Brenda Kearns
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Kearns, Brenda, 1963-, author
Home / Brenda Kearns.
Electronic monograph in PDF format.
ISBN 978-1-927711-02-6 (pdf)
I. Title.
PS8571.E355H66 2014 jC813'.54 C2014-902673-0
Copyright © Brenda Kearns, 2014.
A sunbeam poked at Allie’s eyes, making her wince. She lifted her head and looked around the room. Flowery wallpaper, a sloped attic ceiling, white dressers, puffy, old-fashioned beds. It wasn’t bad. A bit “Anne of Green Gables,” but not bad.
It was her 14th birthday, and she was in her 17th foster home. But who was counting?
Allie slowly crawled out of the bed, trying to not wake the twins who’d been cuddled up against her. She stretched, scratched her head, then headed toward the stairs she vaguely remembered trudging up the night before.
She sat on the top step and listened to the chatter below while she took slow, deep breaths, trying to loosen the achy knot in her chest. The knot that was always—always—there.
A couple more deep breaths, and Allie was ready. She stood up and tiptoed down the stairs—stairs that led straight into the kitchen. It took a minute to sort out what she was seeing. Strangers, of course. But that’s the way it always was.
There was a woman flipping pancakes—short and dumpy, with frizzy brown hair and one of those stupid Kiss The Cook aprons. A tall, skinny teenager—wearing the same dumb apron—was washing dishes at the sink. And there was a flabby boy, with what looked like a million freckles, cutting up grapefruit at the table. He was doing a cruddy job of it, too. Seeds were scattered all over the place, and juice was dripping onto the floor.
“Hello, Allianna,” the woman said, as she picked a pancake off the floor and tossed it back in the pan. “How’d you sleep?”
“We’re not staying here,” Allie said. “We’re going home by the end of the summer and you can’t stop us. I’m going back to my real mom.”
Freckle boy snorted. “Well, you’re quite the witch,” he said. “Where’s your broom?”
“Jonathan, cut it out,” the pancake lady said, as she pried the lid off a bottle of syrup.
“I’m not eating those,” Allie said. “You can’t make me eat, you know.”
“We’re aware of that,” said the tall guy washing dishes. “But I think your shadows are hungry.”
Allie looked behind her. Madeleine and Luke were sitting on the stairs. They were squished together, holding onto each other the way they always did when they were confused. Which, of course, they were. The last thing they probably remembered was the social workers and police barging into the apartment. And Mom screaming. Screaming at everyone and grabbing at Luke and Madeleine as the policemen took them away.
“Would you like some breakfast?” the pancake lady asked, as she set two plates on the table. She was trying to make them feel comfortable by feeding them. All the foster parents did that. Bribed them with food like they were dogs.
Luke and Madeleine scuttled to the table, silent. They never talked when they got to a new home. Not for days, sometimes weeks.
They climbed up onto a chair—one chair—pushed their plates together and started eating their sweet, sticky pancakes. Madeleine ate daintily, using her knife and fork. Luke shoved whole pancakes into his mouth with his fingers.
“Use your fork,” Allie whispered. “Remember your manners.” Foster parents were always looking for weird things like that—things they loved to call “signs of regression.” And every time they found something, it took longer to get back home. Because they had to fix every stupid thing before they’d let Allie’s mom have them back.
Allie’s stomach grumbled.
“Would you like some pancakes?” the lady asked, smiling. They always smiled. Like it was okay to have strangers sleeping in your house. Strangers who didn’t want to be there.
“No.” Allie watched the twins eat like they hadn’t seen real food in days. Which, of course, they hadn’t. Their mom wasn’t big on grocery shopping. Booze was expensive.
“Don’t be stupid,” freckle boy said. “You know they won’t let you go home ‘till you put on some weight. You look like crap.”
“Jonathan, lay off,” said the tall guy at the sink.
Allie ignored them. She sat on the bottom step and waited as the twins finished eating. She had to figure out how to get back to their mom. Every foster home was different. You had to play the game right to convince them you weren’t totally messed up.
But she wasn’t going to eat. She wouldn’t give them the pleasure of thinking it would be
that
easy to make her happy.
When Luke and Madeleine had finished stuffing their faces, she took them upstairs to brush their teeth.
“Where’s the bathroom?” Luke asked. True, they wouldn’t talk when new foster parents were around. But when Allie and the twins were alone, they’d start yakking again.
Allie looked around, confused. She’d expected to find a bathroom door somewhere, but there was nothing. She felt the knot tighten in her chest. She was going to have to ask for help.
Madeleine opened one of the dresser drawers. “They forgot our clothes again,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.
It was true. Their clothes, toothbrushes, shoes...everything was back in the city. All they had were the dirty old pajamas they were wearing.
“Doesn’t matter,” Allie said, as she swallowed hard. “Foster parents get money for clothes when they take us in—they’ll buy us stuff.”
But that didn’t fix the toothbrush problem. Allie had to get the twins’ teeth cleaned and get the knots out of their hair to make them look good when the foster worker showed up. She had to make the worker start wondering if dragging them out of their home last night had been a mistake.
Allie headed downstairs, followed closely by Luke and Madeleine. She stood in the kitchen, hesitant. It made her sick to ask for help.
“We don’t have toothbrushes.”
“Oh, good grief! Of course!” The pancake lady put down her spatula. “Come with me.”
They followed her down the hall to a bathroom.
“Enjoy!” the lady said, as she pointed to a huge straw basket on the counter. “And by the way, my name’s JoJo.”
The lady headed back to the kitchen, leaving Allie and the twins staring at the basket.
“What
is
all this stuff?” Luke whispered, as he ran his fingers over the basket’s rim.
“It’s...it’s...I’m not sure.” Allie picked up the basket and tipped it, dumping its contents onto the counter. Toothbrushes, toothpaste, hairbrushes, shampoo, bubble bath, pretty soaps, sparkly hair bands, nail clippers, lip gloss, tub toys...more bathroom stuff than she’d ever
seen
scattered across the counter.
“Is this all for us?” Madeleine whispered.
“Yeah,” Allie said. “But don’t get excited—they’re just trying to soften us up so we’ll cooperate.”
“I want a bath.” Madeleine grabbed a bar of soap shaped like a flower. “Please, Allie.”
Luke shuffled frantically through the pile of treasures, collecting all the bathtub toys he could find. “I’m going in,” he said, as he hurried over to the big, old-fashioned tub.
“Wait.” Madeleine grabbed her brother’s arm. “We don’t know if they have hot water.” Their apartment usually didn’t—their mom couldn’t pay the bills often enough to get the hot water turned on.
“Hang on.” Allie held her arm under the nozzle and closed her eyes as the steamy water ran off her fingertips. Her shoulders started to relax. They weren’t staying here long—she’d see to that—but at least she could keep the twins clean until it was time to go home.
Allie heard a splash. “Luke!” She grabbed her brother and dragged him out of the tub. “Take your jammies off!” It had been a long time since the twins had had a real bath.
Soon, the tub was full, and heaps of sparkling bubbles overflowed onto the floor.
“Madeleine, next time let
me
put the bubble bath in,” Allie muttered, as she scooped up handfuls of bubbles and shook them back into the tub.
“I only put in half the bottle.” Madeleine squished shampoo into Luke’s straight brown hair, mushing it into silly spikes. Luke didn’t even notice—he was too busy playing with the tub toys.
“Look, we have
got
to do this right,” Allie said, as she gently shampooed Madeleine’s long, matted hair. “A social worker will be here today asking questions. We’ve got to make it sound like everything’s okay at home.”
Allie slowly moved her arms back and forth under the water, searching for the washcloth. “Where is that stupid thing?” she muttered, as she leaned over the tub. “Luke, are you sitting on it? Luke?”
Allie looked up. The twins were wedged shoulder to shoulder at the end of the tub, staring wide-eyed over Allie’s head.
Allie felt that knot—the one that never completely disappeared—tighten just a little more.
“NOOOOO.....” Madeleine shot up and scrambled out of the tub, splashing water everywhere.
“Allie!” Luke screamed, as he leapt out, sliding through the puddles left by his sister.
Allie swung around just as a dog—the biggest dog she’d ever seen—smashed into her shoulder and knocked her to the ground. A giant weight settled on her chest as something sticky and wet slapped across her face.
“Allie, do something!” Luke screamed, as he and Madeleine cowered in the corner. Allie flailed wildly, trying to knock off the attacking animal.
Suddenly, a Kiss The Cook apron raced through the door. “Thor, that’s no way to greet our guests,” JoJo said, as she pulled the enormous dog off Allie. “I’m sorry, Allie, he’s just excited to meet you.”
Allie scrambled backward until she was wedged in the corner. She’d lived with a lot of foster parents, but this was the first time she’d actually been glad to see one.
“This is Thor,” JoJo said, as she held onto the enormous dog’s collar. “He’s an Old English Mastiff—the biggest breed in the world.”
No one spoke.
JoJo turned to Luke and Madeleine. “He weighs about 220 pounds, but Mastiffs are the gentlest dogs you’ll ever find.”
Luke and Madeleine stared silently at the massive dog.
JoJo raised her eyebrows. “I know you two can talk,” she said. “I heard you chatting when you were in the tub.” The twins just stared at her, but Allie could see that Madeleine was hiding a smile.
“I’ve put clean clothes in your room,” JoJo said. “And Allie, you’re absolutely beautiful, but the social worker said you might be interested in braces. We can get that started this summer, if you wish.”
Allie frowned. She
wasn’t
beautiful. Like the twins, she was too skinny and too pale, her brown hair was too dull and too thin, and her teeth...
“We’re going home by September,” she snapped. “There’s no time for braces.” Allie wanted braces to close the gap between her front teeth. She wanted them badly. But getting home was more important.
JoJo smiled kind of sadly as she headed out of the bathroom and shut the door.
It took some coaxing, but Allie got the twins back in the tub. “That spiky hair looks ridiculous,” she told Luke. “And
you
, silly girl, have shampoo running down your back.”
When they were squeaky clean, she let them play with the bathtub toys on the floor so she could have a quick scrub, herself, then the three of them got wrapped in JoJo’s big, fluffy towels and tiptoed out of the bathroom. As they headed up the stairs to their temporary room, Allie could see JoJo and the two boys through the kitchen window. They were standing near one of the barns, surrounded by chickens and staring down at something hairy. Probably another one of those monster dogs, but Allie couldn’t tell.
She didn’t care, either. She missed their mom. Their apartment. The noise of the city. She wasn’t going to live on a stupid farm in the middle of stupid nowhere. She’d make sure of that.