But his dad only said, “He bought Andrew his first car.Did you know that?And it wasn’t a piece of junk, either.It was a Firebird.For a sixteen-year-old.I bet you didn’t know that.”
“No, Dad, I didn’t know that.Where is Uncle Andrew—”
“He can’t come.He can’t leave Susan.But he’ll be here for the funeral, you can bet that.And instead of actually coming and helping, do you know what he’s doing?He’s calling me every hour, asking me what we’ve gotten done, telling me what we should do next.He’s my brother, not my boss.If he wants it done a certain way, he can come down here and do it himself.”
Tean forced himself to take a deep breath.As gently as he could, he took the box from his dad’s lap.When he held out a hand, his dad stared at him as though confused, and then he passed the car over.
As Tean taped up the box, his dad got to his feet and began to pace.He stopped at the wall of boxes and flipped a flap open.Then he shut it again.“It’s not enough he came along and took my place.”The words were joking, and the aggrieved tone was joking.But, at the same time, not.“When he was born, I bet you don’t know where they made me sleep.”
But this bet, he finally lost, because Tean had heard this particular tale of family treachery more than once.“In the basement.”
“And it’s not like it was a room, either.They just put a bed down there and hung some curtains.I was six years old.I was scared to death.”He wiped his hands down the front of his shirt, over the swell of his belly.“That’s why it was so important to me that you kids always felt safe at home.”
For a moment, Tean was eleven years old again, in the bedroom he shared with Amos, listening to the voices carrying through the door as his dad talked about how strange Tean was.He hadn’t meant to be heard; he must have assumed that Tean and the other children were asleep.But whether he’d intended it or not, Teanhadheard, and the fear had opened like a night flower in his chest.He didn’t even have words for it yet, how he was different, all the ways he knew he wasn’t like other boys.But it didn’t matter; he was eleven years old when he had his first panic attack alone, in the dark, while Amos breathed softly on the other side of the room.
Slapping the last strip of tape in place, Tean got to his feet.As he stepped out into the hall, he said, “I need to make a call.”
The facility had a handful of patios that were accessible during the day.Tean emerged into sunlight as thin as water and air that smelled like frozen earth and, from farther off, the kitchen’s industrial fryers.He was still wearing his coat.He was sweating, and the sweat flashed to cold on the back of his neck.He pushed his hands through his hair.He caught himself trying to fix his glasses, but they didn’t need fixing anymore.
Fuck himwas his first thought.And his second thought wasn’t clear enough to be put into a sentence—a jumble of words and emotions that made it hard to breathe.He opened and closed his hands, focusing on the movement.Drew breath into his lungs.The air was cold, and the ache in his chest made him think of a dull wedge of metal.The hog-splitter.And for a moment, he was on the brink of crying.
Then the moment passed.He took out his phone.
I’m going to go crazy, he texted Jem.
And then,I’m going to kill him.
Is it legal to murder him if it’s totally justified?
But Jem didn’t text back, which meant he was probably in the backyard again, letting Scipio run off some energy.Or he’d gone out for another of the strange jobs he managed to find—recovering feet pics, Tean’s brain supplied.Or he and Scipio were sleeping off a binge of Quarter Pounders and fries.
And he still hadn’t finished his vows.
Tean snipped off the thought.
Let it go.
Be kind.
You’re stuck here at least until Amos gets back, so you might as well do something productive.
He placed a call to Uintah High School and was transferred to Ms.Winfield’s classroom.
She answered on the second ring.
“This is Tean Leon,” he said.“We talked the other day.”
“I remember.What happened?Is everything okay?”
“Yes, everything’s fine.I mean, well, you know what I mean.”In the background, kids were talking over each other.“Am I interrupting your class?”
“They’re fine,” she said.“They’re making dioramas of a doll’s house.”
It took a moment for Tean to hear the words as the title of the play and not, as he’d first taken them, as a random dollhouse.He said, “Oh, if you have a moment, I was wondering if you might help me identify someone.”
“I suppose,” she said.“If I can.What do you mean, identify them?”
“We found a personal message to Kai from someone who identified themselves only as S.I believe this was something given to Kai during high school.I was wondering if that rang a bell.”
