I couldn't change schools now.
Finally my dad slept, snoring every few moments. I checked on the staff behind the counter. They were too busy gabbing with each other to notice us. I figured it would be safe to go wash. I wanted to get cleaned up before it got busy in the coffee shop. Besides, I was tired of counting how many times the younger staff said, “
Like
.”
I always have supplies in my backpack. I usually showered and shampooed at school on pe days. When I didn't have gym, I used this washroom or the one at McDonald's. Both had a handicapped space that was private. I could sponge-bathe and wash my hair in the sink. I barely needed to shave, so I didn't have to worry about that every day. I usually brushed my teeth at our site, but today I did everything here.
Just as I was finishing up, the door handle turned.
“It's busy,” I said. I always stressed when someone needed to use the washroom, like I'd be found out. I finished cleaning up, put on fresh underwear and a clean shirt, then stuffed everything back into my backpack.
When I returned to the table, my dad was awake and looking out the window.
“Hey, Dad. How does your arm feel this morning?”
“Not bad at all,” he lied.
He looked like he was in a ton of pain. Even Tylenol would help. I'd have to scrounge for bottles to buy a painkiller. Then I had a brainwave.
“Dad, I have to go to school soon. Do you think you'll be okay here?”
“Oh, sure. I may even head back to the campsite to check out the damage. Hopefully, we didn't lose too much.”
“Yeah,” I said, “I think we did a good job of tying things down. I'm sure it will be fine. I can walk with you to our site.”
“No. It's easier to go straight to school from here. Why don't you head off? We'll meet this afternoon and then figure out a plan.”
We parted at the door, and, after making sure my dad was steady on his feet, I ran up the hill to school. I probably beat my old recordâthe caffeine made me hyper. I actually had a bit of a headache when I got to school. I figured that would make what I was about to do easier.
I headed straight for the office. Mr. Brock was at the photocopy machine when I opened the office door.
“Hi, Mr. Brock,” I said, trying to squint so it looked like my head was really hurting.
“How are you today, Edgar? I was concerned when you left class yesterday. You seemed frustrated.”
“Oh, yeahâI was ticked with Paul. It's all cool now. But,” I said, rubbing my temples for effect, “I do have a migraine. I get them around exams when I'm up late reading. Any chance the medical room has some Tylenol?”
“Oh, I'm sure they do. But I'm not allowed to dispense it to students. Let me see if Mr. Johnson is around. Just hang on, okay?”
“Sure. Thanks.” I watched him head toward the library and spotted Ben coming in the front doors. He was early today too.
“Poeâ¦dude. I'm glad you're here. You won't believe what I heard on the news.” He jerked his head sideways, like he wanted me to come into the hall.
“Just a sec. I'm waiting for Mr. Brock.” Ben approached the counter and leaned against it. He looked agitated. I was starting to wonder what had him so riled up when Mr. Brock returned.
“Here, hopefully these will help. Maybe you should get your eyes tested.” He discreetly placed the two pills in my hand and then patted my shoulder.
“Thanks. I'm sure these will do the trick. I just have to get some water.” I moved out to the hall, where there was a drinking fountain. Ben followed, and Mr. Brock returned to his photocopying. I pretended to swallow the Tylenol in case any adults were watching. Then I placed them in my pants pocket. I would have to skip classes to get them to my dad. The way he looked when we left the coffee shop, I didn't think he'd last until 3:00 pm. Besides, all I could think about was our site and the damage the storm might have done.
“So, what were you going to tell me?” I asked Ben as we moved toward our lockers.
“Dude, it was all over the news today.”
“Hang on,” I said. “Why are you here so early?”
“I thought if I got here early, you could help me with math.”
“I guess,” I said. “But I don't plan on staying long.” I didn't have the head-space for this right now, but Ben seemed to really need my help. I pulled my texts from my locker.
“Forget the math,” Ben said. “It doesn't matter anymore. This is big. I mean, really big.” His voice had tensed, and his eyes were wild-looking.
“Okay, what's wrong?” I asked, feeling my nerves heat up.
“Mom had the radio on when she drove me to school. They were saying the storm knocked out power last night and took down trees.”
“So, tell me something I don't know,” I said. I closed my locker and began to walk down the hall.
“A bunch of trees in that forested area at the bottom of the hill came down. They found a campsite, and they think some homeless guy was living there. They figure he had a kid too, from the clothes they found. The police are there now. ”
Everything went fuzzy.
My dad and I had been discovered.
My head was really pounding now. I looked around, but no one was watching us. What did it matter, anyway? My secret was out. If the police were at our site, they probably had my dad in custody.
“You knew I was living in a tent?” I asked Ben.
“It
was
you!” he replied.
“What! You mean you didn't know?” I felt a burn behind my eyes and blinked hard. “Why'd you trick me like that? I thought we were friends.” I turned to leave, but he pulled on my shirt, so I sat down.
“Relax. I suspected it was you as soon as I heard the news. You've never had me to your place, and you're always hard up for food. I figured you and your dad were just tight for cash. I didn't know until today that things were
that
bad for you.”
My breathing was shallow, and every breath made my head hurt more.
“Listen, Poe. I really didn't know. I would have helped,” he said, sitting down beside me. “You
could
stay with me. My folks won't mind.”
“Yeah. Well, thanks for the offer, but that doesn't really help my dad, does it?” I don't know why I was giving Ben attitude. He was the only friend I had, and right now I needed support. “Sorry,” I said, then put my head between my knees.
Suddenly the lack of sleep hit me and I felt exhausted. “Right now there's only one thing on my mind. I have to find my dad.” I stood up to leave. “I think he broke his arm yesterday, and I don't know if he got hauled in by the cops or what.”
Ben stood up too. “I'm coming with you.”
I had no energy to argue, and frankly, I think I needed Ben. I wasn't steady on my feet. “I'm really sorry I snapped.”
“Hey, no worries, dude. I can't imagine how you've been living in a tent all this timeâ¦and through the winter? Man, you and your dad must be strong. I couldn't do that.”
As we walked out the doors, I saw Inna leaving her parents' car. She bent in to kiss her mom goodbye, then waved at Ben and me.
What would I tell her?
Inna's parents were eyeing us from their car. I waved, hoping they'd be satisfied and drive off. But they continued staring. As she reached us, Inna grabbed my arm and practically pulled it out of the socket, dragging me into the school foyer.
“Noâ¦hiâ¦I mean. Let
go
,” I said, trying to pry her hand loose. She looked hurt. “I'm sorry, Inna. But Ben and I have to go. Leaveâ¦goodbye.”
I guess tact goes out the window when you haven't slept all night.
She shook her head and put her arms up to signify she didn't know what I was talking about. I didn't know what to do. But I couldn't be in the building another minute.
“Goodbye,” she finally stated, when I didn't say anything. Then she stomped down the hall.
“Well, that went well,” said Ben.
“Shut it,” I said back.
“Hey, I'm on your side, remember?”
“Now I've screwed up with Inna too. She's the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Dude, she'll come around. The timing was bad, that's all. But we better get going before the bell rings and a teacher nabs us.”
“How are we going to find my dad?” I asked as we stepped into the crisp air again.
“Let's find a coffee shop with a tv and check the news. Maybe they'll say if your dad is in custody.”
Custody
. There was that word again. It sounded scary. Dangerous.
Could they put my dad in jail? Could they lock him up for living with his kid this way? I wished I'd never left him alone this morning. I felt the two painkillers in my pocket. A lot of good they'd do him now. I took a deep breath and felt my temples burn. “Good idea,” I replied to Ben's suggestion. Then I downed the two pills, dry.
As we walked, Ben filled the silence. “You know,” he said, “you've got to look at this like one of those Greek tragedies. The kind where the hero undergoes a bunch of trials. Fights off three-headed dogs and comes out triumphant.”
“Right,” I smirked. “It's called a
tragedy
for a reason.”
“Okay. But at least he gets the girl in the end.” Ben didn't sound convinced.
It was over nine hundred steps to the coffee shop. I lost track on account of the pain in my head.
“
In local news
,” a woman on tv said, “
a homeless man was discovered near the remnants of his tent after last night's storm ripped through his home. It appears the man's son was living with him. Authorities found clothing and schoolbooks at the site. The man has been taken to the Peace Arch Hospital for medical attentionâ¦
”
Without waiting to hear the rest of the story, I turned to Ben and said, “Let's go!” It would take a good twenty minutes to get to the hospital, even if we hustled.
Now I knew that my dad's arm was being taken care of. That was good. Our secret was out, so I didn't have to lie anymore. That was good. But what would happen to us?
That's what scared me now.
The Tylenol was kicking in as we arrived at the hospital, so my head felt better. But my stomach was churning. Ben got us a chocolate bar from a vending machine, and then we followed the signs to the emergency room.
A crew of reporters was in the waiting area as we came around the corner. Ben eyed them suspiciously while I went to the counter to ask about my dad. Even though I used a really low voice, the cameraman beside me yelled, “This must be the kid!”
I turned to run. Ben put himself between the news people and me. In an instant, I realized that if I ran, I'd have to stay on the run. They knew my dad had a kid. It would only be a matter of time before they tracked me down. I didn't want that. All I wanted was for my dad to be okay.
“Are you Mr. Reed's son?” a woman asked as she shoved a microphone into my face.
Maybe it was the lack of food. Maybe it was the knowledge that we'd just lost everything. Or maybe it was because the worst had already happened. Whatever it was, I decided to be honest.
“Yeah. I'm his son,” I answered.
“So you were living in a
tent
with your dad? How long has this been going on?” she asked in an accusatory tone.
“You don't want to hear about last night? How my dad broke his arm? How we lost everything we own? Does it matter where we were sleeping? Shouldn't the real question be, where are we going to sleep tonight?”
“Yes, but you didn't answer me,” she replied, looking into the camera. “
Why
were you living in a tent and how long were the two of you in the woods?”
“My dad didn't plan this, you know. It's not like he wanted to live in a tent. He had a good job when we lived in Merritt, and we had a home. Bad stuff happens. Maybe if someone had hired my dad after my mom died, we would have been okay.” I saw Ben nod and smile, encouraging me to go on.
“But why didn't you stay in a shelter?” asked the reporter.
I was on a roll now. “In Surrey and White Rock, there aren't any shelters that take men
and
their kids. There are shelters for women and kids. There are shelters for men by themselves. And for teenagers, you can maybe find shelter in Vancouver. If you're lucky,” I said. “But my dad and I don't want to be separated. He wants to help me with my homework. He wants to be there for me.” I could feel a lump forming in my throat. “This wasn't supposed to happen.”
“So you're saying there's a gap in the services?” she asked.
“You bet there is,” I replied.
“Even so, you could have reached out to social services,” she added.
“So I could go into foster care? No way! My dad and I want to stay together. And we were doing all right. That is, until the city started clear-cutting and the storm destroyed our site.”
My shoulders relaxed a little. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ben clapping. I managed a smile.
“Can I just see my dad? I want to make sure he's okay.” Tears threatened to well up into my eyes.
“I'm Sandra Kelley, reporting live from White Rock,” she said. Then she gave the cameraman a signal to stop filming. “Hey, kid, you did a good thing. The camera loves your face, and a lot of people are going to be touched by your story. Sorry I pushed.”
I returned to the emergency desk. Making Ms. Kelley feel better wasn't high on my list of priorities. The nurse had my dad's information ready. “He's been moved to a room upstairs for the day,” she said.
“He's okay, isn't he?” I asked.
“I'm sure he is. Room four-twenty-two.” She pointed to the elevator.
“Thanks,” I said, then turned to Ben. “Let's go.”
My stomach jumped as the elevator landed on my dad's floor. I needed something more in my belly. The chocolate bar wasn't cutting it.