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prologue
Avery – Four Years Old
I getoff the yellow minibus and I instantly get soaked. It’s raining but Seattle is always a rainy place, and Mommy is usually waiting for me with an umbrella and a mean look on her face. I think she blames me for the rain…but she’s not here today. I frown and look at the aide on the bus, but she’s not paying attention, so I shrug and bow my head to protect my face from the rain, and leave the bus stop.
The rain seeps through my clothes, my too short top and my tights getting tighter, and my messy, black hair sticks to my face. Mommy didn’t help me brush it this morning again, and the other kids were mean to me for it. Maybe Mommy’s asleep again; she did that last week. I came home to her laying on the sofa with purple around her neck. It looked like the one she put on my tummy last month. Daddy wasn’t home, either. I haven’t seen him in a while. He used to come home every weekend to see me, and he’d take me to get new shoes or clothes and ice cream. I miss him. Mommy has a friend come over at night, he’s not very nice. I have to lock myself in my room when he tries to grab me.
I walk up the uneven stone path to the trailer we live in. It’s got green around the windows again, and the grass is very long, though Daddy mowed it last time he was here. I open the screen door quietly; last time I was too loud, and ended up with a mark on my back. I have loads of marks on my back, and it hurts, so I try to be a very good girl for my mommy. I go in and see she’s lying on the sofa, but there’s red coming from her neck. That’s weird. Maybe she had a paint fight? Her eyes are open, so I go to her, and gently shake her arm. She’s cold.
“M-m-mommy, I’m-m h-home,” I whisper, my teeth shattering from the cold rain, but she doesn’t say anything. I try again, but she doesn’t move.
Last time she didn’t wake up I had to see Mr. Martin next door. He wasn’t very happy about it, but he let me stay in his trailer until she did. I turn and go back out into the cold rain, and run over to Mr. Martin’s trailer. His is nicer than ours; he washes the outside once a week, and cuts his grass. And his sofa isn’t torn, and there aren’t stains on the carpet.
I knock on his door, and he opens it after a couple of minutes. He’s in his usual sweatpants and t-shirt, his beard and short hair, graying. When he sees me, he frowns and quickly opens the door.
“Avery, your momma asleep again?” I nod as he ushers me inside, while my teeth start to chatter together again. He wraps me up in a towel, giving me a scowl.
“You can’t keep coming here just because your momma is asleep; I’m not a babysitter.”
I feel bad, I don’t mean to annoy him. “I-I’m s-s-sorry, b-but s-she w-w-wouldn’t wake up. T-there w-was r-red paint on h-her neck, h-her eyes were o-open, b-but she j-just k-kept staring. I-I think s-she was sleeping with h-her eyes o-open.”
His eyes got wider as I spoke, and for the first time ever he spoke gently to me, “Okay, sweetheart, I want you to sit here for me while I go check on your momma. Can you do that for me?”
I frown at how nice he is being but nod; I do not want to go back out in the rain. He gets an umbrella and goes outside, while I sit on his comfortable sofa. It’s not lumpy like ours, it’s nice and warm in here, too. It’s never warm in our trailer. I lay my head down and close my eyes.
I wake up to voices and sit up. Mr. Martin is talking to some lady who’s in some kind of gray suit thing with a skirt. Her mousy brown hair up in a nice bun, and her gray eyes assessing me behind her glasses. Mr. Martin sees me awake and smiles at me.
“Hey sweetheart, did you sleep okay?” He is being nice again. I nod, and he kneels in front of me. “This woman here is Mrs. Reeves, and she’s here to take you to a nice home, okay?”
I frown. “But Mommy….”
He clears his throat, and the woman comes over.
“Your mommy wasn’t feeling very well, darling. She’s gone to heaven.”
I frown again. “But heaven’s far away.”
They both look at me with sad faces, but they change to angry quickly when I ask, “Does that mean the bad man won’t come near me again?”
Mr. Martin swallows hard. “A bad man was trying to hurt you?”
I nod again, and try to say the man’s name, “Mommy’s friend Vasil-il-iki. I had to hide.”
Mrs. Reeves kneels. “Has anyone else tried to hurt you, darling?”
I shrug. “Mommy puts purple marks on my tummy if I’m too loud or puts her glowing sticks on my back if I don’t wash the pots and pans. I have loads of red marks there, they hurt a lot.”Mr. Martin looks really ill. I frown and place my hand on his forehead. “Are you getting sick? I don’t want you to get sick.”
He smiles sweetly at me. “No, sweetheart, I just don’t like you being hurt. Can you show us your back? Is that okay?” I shrug again and get up and turn around before they pull my top up. “She’s covered in burns and bruises! How did I not know this was happening just next door?” I hear Mr. Martin rasp. I turn round and hug him. He can be grumpy but that’s because he’s lonely, that’s what Ms. Patterson one trailer over said once. I don’t want him sad. He holds me tight.
“I’m okay, Mr. Martin. I learn to stay quiet now.”
He places a kiss to my head as he goes really stiff and he rasps, “Go with Mrs. Reeves sweetheart, okay? Your daddy should come and get you tomorrow.”
I smile wide at the thought of seeing my daddy, making them both smile. I missed my daddy. I wave bye to my grumpy neighbor—who turned out to be nice—excited to see my daddy. I go with the nice lady.
Only Daddy didn’t come. Instead I was put through more than anyone should be, moving from home to home.
Sergi – Ten Years Old
