He nodded. “A lot.”
“What else do you like? I know you like reading. It sounds like you enjoy math. And I know people confuse you. What makes you happy?”
So many of her questions left him feeling confused and unsettled. Even so, he was able to say, “I’m happy now.”
She glanced over, then back to the road, then looked at him again. But she remained silent until she halted at a stop sign and could give him her full attention. “Why do you think that is? That you’re happy.”
“Because you see me.”
The muscles of her jaw and neck bunched tight. A horn honked behind them. She returned her attention to the road and did not speak again until they pulled up in front of his home.
Adsila and two other people stood by cars parked on the street’s opposite side. Celeste rose from her Buick and walked around to Colin’s door, as if she intended to shield him. She asked her sister-in-law, “You’re certain about what we’ll find?”
“It’s Friday,” Adsila replied. She pointed to Roger Eames’s car. “You take a good look there, you know what’s going on inside that house.”
It was the first time Colin realized Adsila knew why he waited by the front window. His father’s car was parked with two wheels in the grass, like he had taken aim at the garage’s open door but could not quite bring the vehicle intoalignment. So he left it where it was, partly blocking the curved walk leading to their front door. On days when Roger Eames could not enter his own garage, Colin knew he would be missing another meal.
Celeste turned and waved to the people waiting across the street. “Let’s get this over with.”
Adsila locked her arms across her middle. “Who’s that woman there?”
“She’s from Child Services. I need a formal witness, in case there’s trouble.” She waved to the other person, a tall man in a police uniform. “Thanks so much, Jerry. I owe you one.”
“No problem.” He smirked at the car, asked, “How do you want to play this?”
“I’m hoping we won’t need you. But if you could stay out here, you know.”
“Got it.”
Celeste turned to Adsila. “You should go.”
“What for? The man is going to know I had a hand in this.”
“Just the same.” She hugged the larger woman. “You did the right thing, bringing me in.”
Adsila remained as she was, her arms held tight to her ribs. “Sheriff Eames took care of my boy when he got in all that trouble. I owe him.” She cast a single glance at Colin. “But his son is special. This boy deserves better than he’s getting.”
“It’s why I’m here.” Celeste stood by the curb and waited until Adsila drove away. She told the others, “Let’s get this over with.”
Colin used the key hanging from the strap he always carried around his neck, along with a tiny ID inside its plastic cover. His father had told him time and again never to lose it, never take it off outside the house. He never did.
Then he opened the door, and the smell hit him.
The odor was strong as a punch to his gut. The pungent stench formed part of his nighttime terrors.
“Stay right here, Colin. Angie, you best record this.” She started inside the house, then turned back and waved to the police officer. “Jerry, donotlet this child inside.”
Even when she was so severe she sounded angry, Colin was not afraid of her. The heat was a harsh element, strong as the odor drifting through the front door. He heard Celeste call out, asking if anyone was home. He could see her move swiftly from room to room, followed by the nervous young woman who held her phone up like a shield. Colin felt the sweat begin to gather and bead on his face and back. The heat and pungent odor pressed on him, pushing him away from where he stood. His feet remained planted on the front step, but inside he shifted back. Farther and farther away.
He watched from a far distance as Celeste came rushing back outside, drawing the younger woman by a hand on her shoulder. The social services officer walked at an angle so as to keep her phone aimed behind them as …
Roger Eames stumbled into view. The beast from Colin’s nightmares was revealed now, the sickly stain down the front of his disheveled uniform, the massive hands that grasped at nothing, the rage, the roar.
Celeste yelled, “Jerry!”
The police officer rushed forward and took an iron grip on Roger Eames, halting his forward momentum, shouting at the man to back up, take it easy, hold where he was or be cuffed and stuffed inside the police car. Colin doubted his father heard anything at all. Colin felt Celeste place a hand on his shoulder and guide him around. But all he could see was how his father raged. The beast. At him.
Celeste led him back to her Buick and restarted the engine. When the cool air struck his face, he began to tremble. But Celeste had already turned away, talking on her phonenow. By the time a second police car arrived and they subdued his father, Colin was shivering from head to toe. The sight of three officers forcefully stopping his father from reaching Celeste’s car only made his tremors worse. Almost like he was freezing. Even though he kept sweating the whole time.
