“Look who’s here,” Lonny greeted his younger cousin with a shove. “Mom, Dad, the pathetic little loser is back, and he brought us a bunch of presents,” the teenager greedily eyed the pile of suitcases and bags. “Too bad you’re just a bag of bones and your clothes don’t fit me, but Mom will sell them and buy new ones for me.”
“Welcome back,” Jenna said, coming from the kitchen and wiping her hands on a paper towel, giving her nephew a hostile look. “What’s in here?” she asked, pointing to the baggage with her lips pressed into a thin line. “You don’t need any of these things.”
“Oh, you came,” Bob said as he appeared from outside. He looked the boy over with his beady, mean eyes. “You look like a dandy, dressed like that, and I see you've put some meat on those bones. You can go to your room now.”
“Hello, Uncle.” Galen looked into the man’s eyes without blinking. “Yes, I’m back at my mom’s house, and I’ll go to my room as soon as Leonard moves his stuff into the attic. He can start right now.”
“Watch your tongue, boy,” Bob warned. "Don’t forget who you’re talking to. Better do as told and get out of my sight before…”
“Before what, Uncle? Are you threatening me in my mom’s house, which, according to this, belongs to me?” Galen pulled his phone from the pocket of his trunks, turned it on, and started to read. “In the absence of a will that expressly stipulates otherwise, the deceased’s assets pass to their descendants or next of kin.”
“Son of a…” Bob exclaimed, his eyes bulging and his face beet-red with anger. “Give me that, you disrespectful brat!” The man tried to pry the phone from the kid’s hand, but he stepped back and shoved the device into his pocket. “For the last time, boy, give me the damn thing, or else…”
“Or else, what, Uncle?” Galen stood upright, head high, arms at his sides, fists clenched. “Kick me? Hit me with your belt or fists? Lock me in the basement without food or water? That’s child abuse, punishable by a long prison sentence.” The teen pulled a business card from the same pocket. “This is the number for Paul Rivers, one of the best family law attorneys in New York. He’s representing me in this case.”
“These are the teachings you received in that house of sin?” Jenna, having heard her husband’s angry voice from the kitchen, came to see what was happening and exclaimed in indignation. “Bob, this child definitely needs Jesus in his life. We’ll take him to church on Sunday, and once the sermon is over, we’ll talk to Pastor McCann about..."
“No, aunt,” Galen interrupted the woman softly but with determination. “Yes, I really do need Jesus and God in my life, but I prefer to discover them by studying the Bible at home, by myself.” He looked between the man and the woman, who were staring at him, confused.
“Ungrateful child,” Jenna snapped. “How can you be so disrespectful to us, who took you into our family and raised you with love and care? You poisonous snake!”
“Before calling me names again, you’d better reread that court decision to see what rights I have and what your duties are.” Galen spoke in a calm, even voice. “Please, I want Leonard’s things out of my room.”
CHAPTER 12
Galen smiled at the memory of that day as he returned to his childhood home. His father and the mysterious Baldassare, who messaged him often, warned the kid it would take several weeks before they could be reunited, but so far, thanks to the advice he had received, the teen was doing pretty well.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and Galen, who had already finished his part of the group project at school and completed the essay for Monday, didn’t have anything to do. He scrolled through his phone for a while, reacting to pictures and social media posts from his few friends, but then he grew bored, turned off his phone, rolled onto his stomach, and reflected on how his life had changed since he had been taken from the loving home where he had thrived.
By the end of that first day, any trace of Lonny’s presence in his room had disappeared, and Galen spent the evening arranging the books and the few decorative objects he had brought with him on the shelves. Then he unpacked the bags and hung the shirts and pants in the dresser, with the socks and underwear going into the drawers.
To Galen’s surprise, his aunt and uncle had his room repainted a few days later, replacing the dull brown walls with two layers of warm, bright yellow, his mother’s favorite shade. The curtains were also replaced with new ones featuring a vibrant spiral pattern.
Lonny wasn’t too happy about being exiled to the attic and once tried to invade Galen’s room, shoving him out of the doorway. That was the first and last time the fourteen-year-old did that; he learned the hard way that being built like a brick didn’t always guarantee victory in a fight, and that muscles were useless without sharp reflexes.
Galen spoke even less with his aunt and uncle than he had during his first time living with them, mainly to let them know whether he would be participating in a group project or any other activity that required extra time at school. The boy wasn’t interested in what his relatives discussed among themselves, but sometimes he wished he could be a fly on the wall.
For instance, Galen was eager to learn how Lonny described the black eye he had gotten after their brief fight. He was certain his sturdy cousin wouldn’t admit that the bag of bones had not only caused it but also knocked him to the ground, face down. Not even under torture or to himself.
Uncle Bob is up to no good, Galen frowned, the thought pulling him back from his brief walk down memory lane. For example, those phone calls he gets every day; he always speaks in a meek voice, very different from the arrogant tone he uses when talking to his employees and business associates.
Galen couldn’t explain how he reached that conclusion, but he believed the mysterious phone calls were tied to his return to those people who hated him and whom he felt the same way about. Somehow, the caller was orchestrating the entire situation, instructing his uncle on what to do and how to behave around him.
Sure, the sudden change in the man’s attitude could have been caused by the long conversation he had with Paul Rivers, the family law attorney, and by the fact that Galen was now aware of his rights, but the kid doubted it was only that. Not only Bob’s voice, but also his body posture changed during those phone calls, as if the person on the other end of the line were his boss.
You’re imagining things. Galen shook his head at the thoughts running through his mind; you’re reading way too many murder mystery books. However, the boy made a mentalnote to tell Baldassare about it the next time he messaged. That would be in a few hours, and he let out a long, heavy sigh.
Galen wondered what Papa, his siblings, Basile, and the fantastic three were doing. He smiled, grabbed his phone from the nightstand, and started typing. After a moment, he paused, reread the message twice, then frowned in concentration. Who should I send this to? How about all of them, so they won’t get sad thinking I forgot about them?
After selecting the addresses and hitting the SEND button, Galen rolled onto his back and let out a long, heavy sigh. Back when he was only tolerated by his relatives, the life he was living now seemed like an impossible dream. Having a phone, wearing anything other than the oversized clothes his aunt handed down from Lonny, and reading whatever books he wanted without hiding were privileges the teen didn’t even dare to imagine.
Now, Galen had all those things and more, but he missed being with his father, his siblings, the man’s three cool friends, and Basile, who kept everything running smoothly in that big house. The boy also missed the cats’ soft meows and loud purrs, the delicious smell and taste of home-cooked food, and the laughter and joy when they all gathered around the table, their nostrils flaring in delight.
Papa… The word whispered by Galen’s lips echoed through his heart and soul; every time he thought about Ottavio or anything even remotely related to him, it came to mind. The transition from the liar who didn’t want Mom and me in his life to Ottavio to Papa was smooth and natural.
No one commented at all on how he spoke to Ottavio as he got closer to him, but Galen could see the happiness in their eyes. Even Poisoned Ivy, who didn’t show his emotions openly, wore a soft smile every time he heard the kid call his special friend papa.
Closing his eyes, Galen let out another long sigh, wishing the custody situation were already resolved so he could return to the people who cared about him and whom he cared about—in that house that wasn’t robbed of warmth, unlike the one he was living in now. There, he had a full, happy life, and he wanted it back.
