I smile at his sass, knowing good and well he’s serious. LB doesn’t play when it comes to art. I rest my cheek on my folded arms and take a big breath, allowing my body to relax into the bed. “All yours,” I say as I close my eyes.
He draws for about an hour, and I’m surprised by how relaxing I find it. I actually end up falling asleep before he finishes. His high-pitched “Done!” startles me awake.
“What did ya draw?”
“A dragon. It’s super cool! It’s too bad you can’t see it. Maybe next time, I’ll do your arm so you don’t miss out.”
“Next time? So this helped then? You feel better?”
“I feel loads better. My thoughts aren’t movin’ so fast anymore. Thank you for thinkin’ of this, Teddy! Actually, roll over, and let me see your arm now. I wanna draw some more while I tell you about what my parents did.”
I roll over and hold my arm out to him. He latches on and immediately starts outlining something I can’t make out just yet. He’s quiet for a little while. Whatever they did must have really hurt him. He isn’t known for his silence. Some people might start asking questions, but I know better. LB will talk when he’s ready and not a moment before. A few more minutes go by before he starts.
“I don’t mean to cause trouble. You know I don’t. Sometimes I just can’t help it, though.” He takes a shuddering breath before going on with his story. “I got distracted in Mrs. Bradley’s class on Monday. We were supposed to be takin’ a test, but all I could think about is how we’re s’posed to be gettin’ snow soon. I got to thinkin’ about how maybe we’ll get enough this year to have a real proper snowball war and maybe even try sledding down that big hill across the tracks.
“Well, before I knew it, Mrs. Bradley was collecting the tests, and I’d only answered three questions. I begged her for more time, but she said I’d had enough, and maybe next time I’d pay attention to the real world and keep my head out of the clouds. I don’t mean to get lost in my head, Teddy. I wish people wouldn’t think so bad of me when I do. It’s not on purpose. I just float away sometimes.”
He’s stopped coloring, so I pull him in for a hug. I know how much it hurts him when people are mean about how easily distracted he is. A quiet sniffle has me squeezing him tighter. The pressure always helps him feel better. When he starts to pull back, I release him easily and put my arm back into his hand.
“Anyway, the tests went home yesterday. I had to get mine signed. I took it to Mom after bedtime. She’s always the most out of it then, but yesterday was one of Mom and Dad’s bad days. I guess their supply ran out earlier that day, so they weren’t as spaced out as they’d normally be. Instead, they were just jittery and mean. Mom called me a stupid waste of space. I know I should have kept my mouth shut, but we’d had that run-in with Benny earlier. I was already fired up, and my mouth spoke before my brain could catch up. It wasn’t even as bad as what normally comes out. All I said was that I must get it from her. Of course, for the first time in forever, she was paying attention to me and caught it.
“She started yelling at me, which brought Dad in the room to see what was going on. When she told him what I’d said, he punched me for ‘disrespecting his wife.’ Never mind that his wife had just called his son, his flesh and blood, a ‘stupid waste of space.’”
My skin is on fire. I’m surprised I’m not shaking with how mad I am. Someone upsetting LB is the only thing that’s ever really made me mad. With my free hand, I touch the bruise on his jaw. “Is this from him?” My voice doesn’t even sound like me.
Tears fill his eyes. He gives a barely there nod before shoving all the markers out of the way and gluing himself to my side. In between sobs, I hear the words that shatter my heart. “I just don’t get it, Teddy. Why do they hate me so much?”
“I don’t know, LB,” I rasp out as I run my fingers through his curls. “It doesn’t make any sense to me, but I’ll make you a promise, ok? I promise to spend the rest of our lives loving you enough for the whole world.”
I hold him for the rest of the afternoon until his rumbling stomach pulls us out of our bubble to search for some food.
This became a routine for us. Whenever he got stressed out, he’d use me as a canvas until he was calm enough to talk about whatever had him so worked up. LB got real good at drawing, and I got real good at listening.
Everett - Age 11
Ma sighs as LB and I blow through the kitchen on our way to my room. “No running in the house, boys!” she shouts at our backs. “Honestly, Nikki, you’d think they were raised by wolves,” I hear her say into the phone as she returns to her conversation with my aunt. We slow to a brisk walk, but a bet is a bet, and neither of us want to lose. I hear a wounded noise come from behind me. Instantly, I stop and turn to check on LB, but I end up shoved into the wall as he runs past, making it to my room first.
“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” he shouts, doing a god-awful victory dance that involves a lot of arm and leg movement while the rest of him stays stock-still.
“It’s not winning if you cheat, LB,” I say while laughing at his antics.
After hopping up on my bed so he can look down at me, he glares and pokes me in the chest. “You take that back right this instant, Everett Marie Davenport. I ain’t no cheater!”
Grabbing his finger, I heave a long-suffering sigh. “You know good and well that ain’t my name, and what else would you call fakin’ an injury and shoving me into a wall?”
“It’s called levelin’ the playin’ field,” he sniffs.
“Oh, now this I gotta hear. Please…explain,” I say
With his arms crossed and his nose in the air, LB says, “Well, your legs are twice as long as mine, but my brain is twice as big as yours. If I can’t beat you physically, then I gotta use my smarts.”
“Oh, you’ve definitely got a big head,” I tease as I grab him in a headlock and ruffle his curls. When I let him go, he flops back on my bed and gives me that smile that never fails to send my stomach into free fall. A lot of the guys at school have started talking about girls, but I don’t get it. I mean, sure, some of them smell nice, like cookies, but the only person I really get excited to see is Cooper
“You got a stomachache or something?” LB asks, suddenly looking concerned.
“Huh? What are you talkin’ about?” I ask. His question came out of nowhere.
“Your face looked funny for a second there, but you look fine now. Must’ve just been gas,” he replies, giggling when I lunge forward and start to tickle him. “Ok! Ok! Uncle!” he shouts through his laughter.
