Saving Hope

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Hope

It is past 11:30pm when the bus drops me off in my neighborhood. I thank the driver and make my way down the steps and out into the dark night. This neighborhood is never asleep. People are still standing around on the street, and I can hear kids crying as I pass by some of the broken down houses. I check my pocket one more time to make sure that my mace is in there, just in case, and strengthen my grip on the large pocket knife I have in my other hand.

I am not afraid to walk these streets during the day, but nighttime adds an element of unpredictability that I just can't seem to stomach. When the people standing around have drunk too much, or have been using drugs all day, I know that even the best of them can make a stupid choice out of desperation. I know, because my mother is one of them.

My mom has not been home in months, and I'm so grateful. I'm saving up enough money to get Nathan and I our own place. Something small but safe. Right now I can't leave this little neighborhood because I have grown to depend on too many people here to watch Nathan. Letty walks Nathan home from school since her school, the high school, gets out about twenty minutes before the elementary school. Her mother, Mary, watches him most nights of the week and I pay her as much as I can.

When Mary is not available, the neighbor across the hall, Mrs. Sawyer, watches him. She is in her seventies, and I am so afraid she won't be here one day when I really need her. Nathan loves her like a grandmother, but if I am honest, she doesn't have enough energy for him. She is my last resort, but I love her. All of them know to be on the look out for our mother. It has gotten easier on me the older that I get. With age and experience, as well as a mature body, it is easier to pass as Nathan's mother instead of his sister. I enrolled him in school, go to the parent-teacher conferences, and when money isn't so tight, I can take him to ball games or we can ride the bus down to the beach. When I was younger I would have to try to clean my mom up for certain things--that is, if she was around.

I know that I was not a planned pregnancy and neither was Nathan. We don't even know who our fathers are. It doesn't matter, really, we have enough love between the two of us for a lifetime, but sometimes I think it is harder on Nathan than me. He's a boy and he has to watch the fathers of his friends pick them up from school or take them to games. His father's absence is probably a lot heavier for him.

I make my way through the courtyard of our building and up to Mrs. Sawyer's apartment. She's been a widow for many years now, and I often wonder about her safety, but she's too stubborn to move out of the neighborhood where she raised her children. She depends on me for the Sunday grocery runs I make for the elderly families in the building. It is the only payment she will take from me in trade for watching Nathan.

"Hopey!" I hear Nathan scream as the door opens. He has called me that since he was just learning to talk. I tried so hard to get him to drop the "y" but he never would. I thought it was the trouble he was having with speech, but his speech therapist at school has said he knows what he is doing when it comes to my name and he is doing it on purpose. Knowing that warms my heart.

"Nathan!" I yell back, scooping him up into my arms and spinning him around. "Why aren't you sleeping, booger? It's so late. I will never be able to wake you tomorrow for school." I kiss his head and he takes off inside the apartment in search of his backpack. Slinging the SpongeBob bag onto his back, he gives Mrs. Sawyer a big hug goodbye and jets across the hall to our place.

"Thanks again, Mrs. Sawyer. I hope he wasn't any trouble." I know my brother is a great kid, but he is still a kid. Last week, he chopped down the neighbor's plant pretending to be an explorer from Man vs. Wild. I had to make sure he didn't watch that show anymore. I am just grateful he didn't try to eat it or relieve himself somewhere to keep with the theme.

"He is never any trouble, dear. I have a question to ask you. You know my granddaughter, Eve? Well, she is coming over this Saturday with her sons. They are going to go to a movie and spend the night here. She was wondering if Nathan would want to join them. Maybe have a little popcorn, tear the place up a bit." We chuckle together.

Eve is a great mom. She is a few years older than I am and is a nurse at the local hospital. Her boys are about the same age as Nathan, one is 7 and the other is 5. "Of course, he would love that! I have to work, so I will just drop him off on my way in if that is OK with you?"

"Absolutely. He won't be coming back over to your place at all until after church on Sunday around noon since we will be staying for the picnic after. We won't even know if you come home at all." She says that with a wink, and I laugh and flush a little at the suggestion.

"I might just stay out then. Party it up, take a walk on the wild side." All of it is said sarcastically, but Mrs. Sawyer smiles and nods her head.

"You do that, dear. I'm gonna hold you to it." I can see that it is getting hard for her to stand so long, so I back away from the door to head to my place.

"Oh, Mrs. Sawyer, one last thing...if my mom comes home..." she's already shaking her head and pinching her lips.

"I haven't seen Nathan in months." She nods to me and I nod back.

"Thank you." I turn and walk to my apartment, opening the door for a now sleepy Nathan. My mother was so high when social services brought Nathan back the last time that she didn't even remember him coming home. She has no idea we have him back, and I want it to stay that way. She will fight me for him, but she won't take on the state. If she can just stay away long enough for me to save up enough money, we will disappear, and she won't come looking for him because she won't know that she can. Until then, I need to keep him at this address for when Social Services comes and checks in with us—although I am not sure how much longer they will buy the story of my mom being out of town.

"Go get in the bath," I say, and he whines, but does as he is told. I kick my shoes off and lock the door behind us. Making my way into the bathroom, I kneel on the floor besides the bath and help him wash his hair. We talk about his day at school and what he learned and he asks me to tell him another story about the Prince of Pies. I tell him stories every night—big fairytales with happy endings. Lately, they have all been about the Prince of Pies.

When we are both in our jammies and snuggled in bed, we say our prayers. I pray silently that my mother never comes back, and he prays out loud that we get to go on vacation. It is amazing what a few years can do to our dreams. I have been in one foster home too many and still can't decide if they were worse than being home with my mother and the doped-up, wasted losers she brought home. My greatest fear is that she will bring home a criminal, and I won't be here to protect Nathan.

Right before he drifts off to sleep, I rub his head and ask him again what the plan is if he sees our mother. In a sleepy voice he recites to me the words we have been practicing every night for years. "I will climb out my window and run to the park. I will hide in our spot until you come get me," he pauses for a minute to yawn and then takes a big sleepy breath before finishing, "It may take a long time, but you will come find me. You promise." I hug his back to my chest and swallow down the pain and fear that have caused a lump in my throat.

"That's right, Nathan. I promise and I never break my promises."

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