Salem's Civil War (Book Five of The Silver Society)

Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Mrs. Foster came into Arnie's room to wake him up. "You've got to head to school," she told him.

"No," he replied. The last thing he wanted was to go to class. He especially didn't want to see Miss Keller. He couldn't handle facing her. That would make everything real.

"It isn't optional, Arnie. Your behavior may have been acceptable in other foster homes, but it won't be allowed here. Go to school."

"Fine, whatever," he mumbled. When she walked away, Arnie pulled on clothes he'd retrieved from Alex's house. He desperately needed to go shopping for anything but what the Fosters had filled his closet with.

When Arnie arrived downstairs, Mr. and Mrs. Foster were sitting at the kitchen table with Eliza. Edward had, presumably, already left for class. Eliza looked at Arnie briefly before putting a few strands of hair into her mouth and chewing on them absentmindedly.

Mr. Foster packed his briefcase and headed out of the house with a brief, "Bye, kids."

Mrs. Foster smiled at Eliza and said, "Eat your breakfast, Eliza darling, not your hair please." She pushed the pancakes closer to Eliza, who obediently ate them before going back to chewing on her hair while Arnie finished his own plate of food.

When Mrs. Foster left the kitchen briefly, Arnie moved his chair closer to Eliza. "Are you okay?" He asked her softly.

Eliza ignored him. He tried again. "Listen, Eliza, if something's wrong, you can tell me. Maybe I can help you," he continued.

Eliza shook her head. "You told me you can speak," Arnie said. "Why don't you?"

Eliza stared at him before beginning to rock back and forth. Arnie stood up and found Mrs. Foster. "Hey," he said. "Please don't be offended, but is something wrong with Eliza?"

"Why do you ask?" Mrs. Foster asked.

"She's just... I don't know how to say this without you getting mad at me, but she seems kind of different."

"Eliza's very bright," Mrs. Foster replied.

"I don't doubt that, but she doesn't speak, and she rocks back and forth like she's self-soothing... I mean, is she autistic?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that. She's just very shy, and she hasn't been feeling well lately. Give her time and she'll open up to you. Now, hurry up. I'll give you a ride to school."

Great, just what I wanted, Arnie thought bitterly.

"You need an attitude adjustment," Mrs. Foster said suddenly.

"What?" He asked in confusion.

"Your sarcasm is unacceptable. I don't know why the others put up with it, but we will not."

"I didn't say anything," he replied. Is she a telepath? He wondered in a panic. How did she know what I was thinking?

"You've been sarcastic since we brought you home, Arnie. It's time you learned your place," she said harshly.

He had expected this, to an extent, but not so suddenly. Would she try to beat him up, or would she have her husband do it? Or would she simply go with psychological abuse? He didn't think the Fosters were the sexually abusive sort, but he couldn't be sure. Eliza certainly acted like she was being abused, and that kind of abuse tended to have the most obvious effects on kids.

"And what is my place, Mrs. Foster?" He asked, ready to run if she tried to hit him. He didn't believe in hitting women, but that didn't mean that he was still a little kid who would let a woman hurt him. He was a slayer. He had reflexes.