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"Nathaniel, you're a wonderful young man. If somebody is hurting you, tell Nana right away. I can't help you if you don't talk to me," she encourages, a little more forcefully this time.
"No, honestly, um, I've got to go anyway," I say, taking a step backwards, ready to leave. As I do, she reaches out and puts her hand on my arm, encouraging me to sit down again.Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Gabe's gonna kill me if he finds out that someone may know what's going on. I need to convince her I'm okay, and it isn't what she's thinking. I try to steady my leg that is jumping so she doesn't catch on to me.
"Nathaniel, Izzy told me a little bit about how angry your dad was when she came to surprise you that day, and she came back very upset and worried. If that monster hurts you and I don't help, I'll never be able to live with myself knowing that I could have done something and didn't. I don't want that on my conscience, and neither do you," she says, stroking my hand and looking at me with big, sad eyes that almost break me.
I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out. I feel tears start to flow as I get up and sprint home as fast as I can. I'm in such a hurry that I don't even think about picking up Bella's letter.Hopefully, her grandmother will see it and leave it outside for me to pick up tomorrow.
I've only been home for a few hours when I hear a loud knock at the door. Walking over to open the door, I pray it's not Bella's grandma again. When I open the door, I'm shocked to see two large police officers and the sheriff standing at the door. There is also a short but serious woman with them as well. She tells Gabe and me to pack a bag with our things and clothes. Meanwhile, the two policemen are in the other room talking to Dad.Shit, it doesn’t sound good.
Gabe and I quickly packed up all of our belongings into a trash bag, since it's the only thing we could find. We are then taken to the strange woman's car and told to get in.The car drives off while I look back with a mixture of sadness, confusion, and relief as my childhood home gets smaller and smaller in the rear window.
***
I'm awakened by the feeling of somebody shaking my shoulders. I groggily grunt in response and shake them off as I fall back to sleep.
"Nate, wake up," my brother whispers, and like a jolt of electricity, my body stiffens and my eyes fly open. The last thing I remember is my eyes getting heavy. I must have fallen asleep; for how long, though, I have no idea.
It's already dark outside. Not just the standard nighttime darkness, but pitch-black darkness.
"Gabe, where are we?" I ask, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I can’t remember the last time I slept so peacefully, which is strange given the circumstances.
"I don't know, but we've been driving for hours, and no one is telling me anything!" Gabe snaps. He reaches for the handle and tries to open the car door, but to our horror, it's locked. I can tell by the tone of his voice and the way he’s anxiously looking all around us that he’s gone into full onprotector mode.He’s looking around, searching for a way to escape. His fists are clenched, letting me know that he’s ready and willing to fight anyone to keep us safe.
Finally, someone opens the car door, and Gabe jumps out. "Where the fuck are we?" he demands. I follow behind quickly, fearing they’ll separate us if I wait. "Welcome boys. Sorry for the secrecy, but under these circumstances, everything must be kept confidential for your own safety," says the serious woman.
"So, my name is Miss Davis, and I'll be your social worker. This is Mr. and Mrs. Jackson; they'll be your foster parents for now until a permanent solution is found," she says matter-of-factly.
"What do you mean, our foster parents? When are we going home?" Gabe demands, but no one responds to his questions.
"Come along, boys," Miss Davis says sternly.Man, I hate her already. Her and her stupid gray suit.
While showing us around their house, the Jacksons kindly informed us we are free to get food and drinks from the kitchen. And explained what they call the house rules, which, to be honest, don't seem very rule-like to me. It's nothing compared to what me and Gabriel are used to. They want us to behave, not hurt anyone, and listen to the adults.
"So, this will be your room, Nathaniel," Mrs. Jackson says, opening a door and letting me step inside. "And yours is down the hall, Gabe," Mr. Jackson says behind me. Panic gripped me, causing an instinctive stiffening of my body in response. Gabe must be just as uncomfortable with us being separated because he spins around and faces the two of them, his fists clenched tightly.
"No way! Nate and I share a room. We've always shared a room. I protect him and he protects me. That's how it works," Gabriel says, visibly agitated and upset.
"Okay, okay," Mrs. Jackson replies. "We assumed you both wanted your own rooms, but if it makes you feel better, we'll put the two beds in your room, Gabe, since it's a little bigger. Satisfied with the new sleeping arrangement, Gabe throws his arm around my shoulders and allows Mrs. Jackson to lead the way to our new room. "Head inside then, boys," she says with a smile when we reach the door. "We’ll give you some time to get settled," Mrs. Jackson says as she reaches for her husband's arm and closes the door behind them both.
I look around, and I'm amazed at how clean and tidy it is. The walls are mold-free, unlike our room back home. The walls are this light yellow color, and there's a giant window with gray curtains. Right in the middle of the room, there's a super cozy double bed with gray bedding that matches. There's a little wooden table next to the bed with a lamp and a clock on it. My eyes wander around the room, and I quickly notice a closet on one side and a dresser with a TV on the other side. I looked around in wonder.This entire room can't be just for us, can it?
A loud cough echoes from behind me, and I grab Gabe's arms instinctively. "Sorry boys, it's just me." Mr. Jackson apologizes, "I've brought your bags up for you. Should I place them on the bed?"
"I guess," Gabe replies with a shrug.
Mr. Jackson makes his way towards the bed, carrying our pathetic looking big garbage bags full of everything we own.
He puts the bags down, then reaches out his hand, like for a handshake or a high five, maybe? As he steps closer, Gabe positions himself in front of me, shielding me from any potential danger.
A strange look appears on Mr. Jackson's face, then disappears almost instantly. "Well, I'll leave you both to settle in then," he says, stepping away before stopping at the doorway. "I'll get Mrs. Jackson to bring milk and cookies up soon," he adds, closing the door behind himself.
***
The following months are very tense at the Jacksons’. I get a warm bed, a roof over my head, a full belly, and lots of attention and affection. I love my new life and have settled in well. Gabe, on the other hand, has a hard time settling in. He often clashes with Mr. Jackson because they both think they should be themaster of the house.
The back door slams and I know this is about to lead to another argument. "Gabe, is that you?" Mrs. Jackson says before the sound of Gabe running up the stairs and slamming our bedroom door fills the air. This is the third time this week that Gabe’s come home late.
"Gabe…Gabe." He ignores me, too busy trying to pry the window open.
