Chapter 4: Crushed.

Chapter 4

It was that time of day when the sun was low in the sky, the crickets were singing out in the grass and the heat of the day had cooled to a bearable degree. Across the room Timmy sat on the carpet by the couch, a small bowl of strawberries trapped between his tiny legs and his eyes glued to the television on which colorful vegetables danced to a silly tune.

I sat at the dining table doing my taxes with Jason across from me. On the table before him, he had placed his crumbled ten, twenty and one dollar notes and in the book he held, he scribbled numbers and dates. He looked completely focused on his task, never taking his eyes from the page except to count and straighten out his cash. I set down my pencil and sat back in my chair, taking the time to observe him.

His curly black hair floated over the page, the finally clean locks looked like woven threads of silk and I wondered if it would be soft to the touch. He had delicate features, almost like a woman’s. His eyebrows were dark and full and seemed perfectly coiffed, he had lashes that were so long it was a mystery how he could even see past them and his nose was slender and straight, fitting his face like the perfect puzzle piece.

Then there were his lips, looking soft and pink, glistening every time he licked them.  They strangely inviting, especially when he frowned. He didn’t have much stubble but it was there…a soft dusting of dark hair that lay just right against his tanned face.

There was innocence there as well, one that crept up on his features when he was calm and unaware. Innocence that made you want to keep him hidden from the world and all the shit it had to offer. Innocence that scared me.

How did you pass this man on the street and not give a damn and how could you see him with his child and not crave the love and tenderness that existed between them? The longer I waited to do my duty, the harder it was to think about doing it.

Almost Two days and I felt like I’d known them all my life. The sound of Timmy’s laughter, the sight of his tears, the softness of his hands and the way it felt to hold him securely in my arms, to teach him new words and show him how to wipe his hands in a towel…I felt as though I had lived this my entire life, but how could that be?

And his father… Jason, the only rock Timmy had ever leaned against. The man with his stubbornness and his intense dislike of those with authority. The man who would clearly walk a mile for his kid, with so much love in his heart and too much weight on his shoulders.

I felt as though I had known him too…as though I had shared in his worries for a long time. Less than two days and who they were was already carved in my mind. How did I do my duty? How could I do the right thing now?

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

I snapped back to the present at the sound of Jason’s voice. He stared at me with furrowed brows, his pen still trapped and poised between his fingers.

I shook my head. “What’re you doing?”

He glanced down at his work, then back up at me with a small frown. “I’m makin’ this plan. I gotta make sure I use my money right so I got enough for when the week is done.”

I nodded in understanding. “Like a budget.”

He shrugged.

“You mind if I take a look?”

He shrugged again, then slid the book toward me.

He’d laid out everything in columns with the amount of money he had in total at the top, then the days of the week on the side and inside the columns he made detailed notes on how the cash would be spent;

Oatmeal for Timmy. More Band-Aids. Juice for Timmy. One little box of mac and cheese for Timmy. The apples Timmy likes. A new comb because the other one got lost. Maybe some grapes if I can get them cheap like last time.  Money to save. Some peas cause Timmy isn’t going to the toilet regular these days. Bread. A yellow crayon cause Timmy made the other one melt in the sun that one time. A soap. Some more toothpaste cause ants went and ate the last one. Maybe some carrots cause Freddy says it’s supposed to be good for kids...

The list went on and the more I read, the more I felt for them. They were literally living hand to mouth. It wasn’t right.

I shook my head and looked up at him. He was fidgeting with the pen he held in his hands, he didn’t glance my way.

“You write pretty well for someone who dropped out of school.” Was the only thing I could come up with.

He looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Of course I can write, I aint never been stupid.”

“No need to get defensive Jason, I’m just making conversation.” I told him, but his expression didn’t change. I couldn’t blame him, he lived a life where he probably had to constantly defend his choices and maybe even his existence.

“Whose Freddy?” I asked when he said nothing. I watched as his expression became closed off and he shrugged.

“Some guy.”

I decided not to push it, instead handing him back the book and watching as he ripped out the page on which he’d made his budget and stuffed it into his pocket along with the cash he’d spread across the table.

I looked down at my paperwork and picked up my pen, then set it down again and looked at him. He was sitting with his arm folded and his eyes planted somewhere above my head. I assumed he was taking in the night sky through the window and I glanced around too. It was nice out tonight.

I could see the stars dotting the sky and the silhouette of the trees set against a picturesque backdrop of nature. It wasn’t often that I took the time out to appreciate the life in my own backyard, and like the presence of my two guests, it made me feel calm…happy even.

“I was thinking maybe we could leave in the morning?” Jason asked, breaking the silence with words I didn’t want to hear.

“You know what my answer is gonna be Jason.”

He frowned. “Then when do we get to leave?”

“Timmy can’t go back on the streets and to be honest…it’s best you don’t either.”

“Well tough… that’s how it’s gotta be ’till I find someplace better.”

I took a breath, “You’ve heard of Child Protective Services right?”

I watched as the blood quite literally drained from his face and he became still. “You said you wouldn’t, you said we could leave after we went to the doctor.” He said, voice trembling, breathing harsh and all I could do was sit and watch him fall apart.

“I never said that Jason.”

“I told you I’m done picking pockets Michael, I swear this time… I’m working on Monday and that whole week and I’ll get paid, and in no time I’m gonna have money for this place I saw and it’s not dangerous there at all—”

It was the first time he’d used my name and the way he’d dropped it in there with his plea made me feel like a dick for even bringing any of this up.

“It’s against the law to have a child living in those conditions. I’m a servant of the law Jason, what do you want me to do?”

“It’s against the law to take kids from their family too...so…so you can’t do this.”

I shook my head.

“They’ll find a temporary home for him until you can get your life together, then he’s all yours. I’ll even arrange for you to visit him and—”

“Timmy, come on we’re leaving!” he shouted, pushing up from his chair so quickly that it fell over. I stood, moving around the table on quick feet to catch up with him before he got to the child.

“Hey, you’re gonna scare him, stop it.” I hissed when I grabbed his arm, glancing at little Timmy who sat watching us with wide eyes.

When he shoved me, my grip tightened. “Hey, relax…I’m only giving you options here…I’m not saying for sure that I’m calling CPS, relax!”

“Then what then?” He panted, still shoving at my chest.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“No...tell me straight up, I’m sick of your games!”

I gritted my teeth, my arms still tight around his as I watched the expressions play across his face, fear being the dominant one and I was the one who put it there.

“Either CPS or… or there are other options out there, if you’d just stop and listen for a minute!”

“What options?” he hissed.

Nothing came to mind as he struggled and from the corner of my eye, I saw little Timmy push up from the carpet, his bowl of strawberries in hand and I said the only thing that came to my lips.

“You can stay with me.”

That gave him a pause. Then he pushed against my hold. “Bull.”

“Hey, stop it, I’m serious…I have more than enough room…you can stay until you sort yourself out and you’ll be together.”

“You really think I’m that stupid? You don’t want us here, why would you? You don’t even know who we are.”

“Well it’s either that or CPS so you decide, but I promise you, you’re not taking Timmy back to the streets.” I said firmly and I don’t know what it was that he saw in my eyes or heard in my tone, but he stopped fighting me at once, going limp in my arms and  I watched in horror as the tears filled his eyes.

I let him go instantly and he spun away from me and picked up his baby boy. The strawberries went flying to the ground—bowl and all, and I watched as he crushed a few of them underfoot as he exited the room. I followed only to prevent him from taking any exits and watched with a heavy heart as, with nowhere else to go, he headed upstairs with Timmy in his arms.

I stood at the foot of the stairs and watched until they were out of sight, then flinched when I heard a door slam. For a while I stood there, watching the empty staircase and feeling sick to my stomach. Then with a sigh, I ran a hand over my face before reentering the family room where the crushed strawberries stained the cream carpet.

With a sigh I bent to pick them up, one by one until I filled the bowl and set it on the dining table. I glanced around the room silently. On the television, colorful vegetables continued to dance to their silly tune, upstairs a father and son were locked away and down here , in the room where it had all gone to hell, I stood alone with a bowl of crushed fruit, feeling every bit a like the bad guy.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

IT'S BEEN A WHILE I KNOW..BUT THANKS FOR STICKING WITH ME AND THIS STORY. YOU GUYS MEAN THE WORLD TO ME. THE NEXT CHAPTERS WILL BE LONG I PROMISE!

THANK YOU.

-DoUbLe.A

-unedited.