Chapter Text
I was six-years-old when Mama packed our bags and left.
“What about Rusty?” I asked, but I think I knew the answer even back then. Mama wanted to get away from Daddy, and Rusty reminded her of him.
“Daddy’ll take care of him,” she assured me. “Come on, baby, we’re going on an adventure.”
Some adventure.
She had a new man by then, some big shot executive from California. He’d get real close to her neck and she’d giggle and I’d stare at the wall and think about home. I didn't like guys who weren't Daddy touching her like that, but no one was asking me. She took me to every party she went to, except there were no other kids at these parties, so I always ended up shoved into a bedroom or an office or some place. I stole a couple books from those parties. I figured they probably wouldn’t notice.
I knew Daddy would be worried about me. He and Mama fought a lot, but he still loved me. I know because he still came into my bedroom every night to read me a story. Daddy was real smart.
We were sitting in a McDonald’s parking lot when Mama’s boyfriend blew up. I guess I was humming a song, or something, I don’t know, but the next thing I knew he was dragging me out of the car by my arm, hollering all the while.
Mama followed after us, but I couldn’t hear none of it. That’s when I started going deaf, I guess. She was begging, I knew that much. Her boyfriend shoved me and I fell and skinned my knee, but I couldn’t feel it.
“Okay!” Mama cried. “Okay. I’ll take him back.”
I looked up at her and she smiled at me, even though she was crying.
“Come on, baby,” she said. “I’m taking you home.”
I thought she meant that we were going home. She’d talk to Daddy and they’d make up and we’d live together again, but that wasn’t it. We pulled up in front of our big old house and she gave me a little push. And then her boyfriend drove off, with her still in the passenger seat.
I think that’s when I stopped seeing colour.
I thought about chasing the car, but even back then I knew I’d never catch it. So I sat on the sidewalk for a few minutes, just to make sure she really wasn’t coming back, before I turned and walked inside.
Me and Mama were gone for about a week, I reckon, and the house was an awful wreck. Rusty’s toys were scattered around and the air smelled sour and musty.
“Daddy?” I called. “Rusty?”
Now, one thing I know about my little brother is that he don't really cry. He'd whine when I didn't let him play with me and the big kids, and he'd holler loud when he hurt himself, but he hadn't cried much since he learned to talk. So when the broken wails rang out through the house, my blood felt cold and I started to run.
Every room was covered in dust and looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since we left. My bedroom was exactly as I’d left it, but Rusty’s was a mess, and Daddy’s office looked like a tornado hit it.
“Rusty?”
The kitchen was a mess too, with empty boxes of crackers on the ground and a couple of unopened soup cans rolling around. I found Rusty under the table, skinnier than I’d ever seen a kid, and filthy.
“Rusty?” I asked. “Where’s Daddy?”
Tears weren’t coming out of his eyes, but his face was all scrunched up and he was gasping. Something heavy hit my stomach as I scooped him into my arms.
“Were you alone the whole time?” I asked.
Rusty couldn’t answer me. He was only two.
I wasn’t that much bigger than him, but I got him into the bathtub easily enough, washing him until his skin was pink and his hair soft. He’d stopped crying by then, but any time I tried to leave the room, he’d start up again, screaming like he’d been struck.
“Don' leave!” he begged, tiny fingers clinging to my shirt as I helped him get dressed.
“I ain’t leaving,” I promised, setting him in his high chair as I filled his cup with water. “I’m here now, Rusty, I ain’t leaving.”
I knew I should go next door and get Ms. Jenny, who taught me piano. She could help us find Daddy. But Rusty was hungry and scared, and I was too.
I heated us up a can of soup and made sure Rusty ate as much as he wanted before I finished the pot.
“Where’d you go?” Rusty asked, once we were done eating.
“I dunno,” I said, picking him back up. Usually it bothered me when he wanted to follow me around, but I think I’d be alright if we were connected at the hip now. “A few parties. They weren’t very fun. Too many people.”
Rusty went silent. Then he yawned. “I’m tired.”
I was exhausted. We could go find Daddy in the morning.
“Come on,” I said. “You can sleep with me.”
I wrapped my little brother in blankets and put an arms around him as we lay on my bed.
“No leaving,” he mumbled.
“No leaving,” I agreed. “I ain’t never gonna leave you again.”