Little Bird

Chapter Six

I wake up with a hand pressed to my cheek. I realize that I’m lying on the couch, Mom’s grey blanket tangled around my legs. Mave strokes my cheek with her thumb, and I look up at her.

 “Hey, Hon. A boy called, said a tow is bringing the truck.”

 I level my gaze again, the strain of looking up at her making my head hurt. I stare at the stained wallpaper on the wall across from me. I close my eyes.

 “He walked you home?” she continues. “From Feather Moss?”

 I moan.

 “Did you thank him, at least?”

 I don’t respond, and the pressure of her hand against my temple communicates her disappointment. I feel like a child, and I brush her hand away.

 “Hey” she says, reassuringly. “Have something to drink.”

 I sit up slowly and she passes me a warm mug of tea. I blow into it, watching my breath ripple the surface. I look up and Penny is standing in front of me, hugging a stuffed platypus to her chest.

 “I’m okay,” I tell her, my voice hoarse.

 She nods and sits beside me. “Is Rosie going to get home soon?”

 I sigh. “I’m doing the best I can." She cuddles up to my side, leaning her head on my shoulder.

 “It’s been a while, Hon,” says Mave, sitting down heavily in the arm chair, and closing her eyes.

 “Sorry,” I say, and she gives me a sharp look.

 “Don’t ever apologize for it- it’s not your fault,” she snaps.

 I look down at my tea, my cheeks burning. I thought the anxiety attacks were gone. I thought I’d abandoned them after my Father left for the last time, along with any hope of his return. I used to see it as the only thing that kept me dependant- just one more obstacle to overcome until I could manage myself and everything else. One more step before I gave up being weak for good.

 It’s been over a year since I’ve collapsed in a fit of fear. But it was so easy just to slip back into the grip of memories- to let the things that terrify me take control. I can only hope it was a fluke.

 Mave gets up from the chair. “I’d better go,” she says. “Your Mom is taking a nap, and Gabe hasn’t come out of his room all day.”

 She walks over to the door and grabs her coat off the hanger. She wraps her scarf around her neck, and does up the zipper on her jacket.

 “Thank you,” I say.

 She looks up at me, her green eyes vibrant and mischievous. “Where would you be without me?” She throws her hair over her shoulder, flashes me a crocked smile, then turns and leaves.

 I get up from the couch, rinse out my mug, leaving it in the sink, and make my way to Gabe’s bedroom. I knock on the door and call his name. No response. I knock again and call louder, and when there’s still no response, I open the door.

 He’s not there. I check under the bed, in the closet, anywhere else a twelve-year-old boy could hide, but he’s not there. Penny, who is standing in the doorframe, says shakily, “Jackie?”

 “Don’t worry,” I say weakly, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “I’ll find him. He’ll come out. Gabe! Gabe, get out here right now!” I wander past Penny into the hallway and shout, “Gabe, I’m sorry! Just please come out! This isn’t funny!”

 Penny collapses against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest, the platypus doll squashed in between. She has her face buried in her arms.

 “It’s okay, sweet pea, he’s not lost.”

 “What if he is!” she gasps, and I realize she’s crying. Then she says, quieter, “What if they’re coming for me next…”

 “Hey!” I snap. “You look at me.” I kneel down next to her. She looks up at me, her eyes red. “No one’s coming for anyone, okay? Do you understand me? No one’s taking you anywhere.”

 “How do you know that?” she shouts, her voice desperate. “You don’t know!”

 “Yes, I know!” I tell her. “You’re safe. You’re safe, I promise you’re safe.”

 Then she lets the tears consume her and collapses on my shoulder, trembling and crying. I rub her back, hating whoever took Rosie, hating my Father, hating Gabe for running off, even hating Mom, who just sits there, incapable of helping me.

 I sit back, my shoulders against the wall, and Penny curls up in my arms and rests her head on my chest.

 “Your shoulder was boney, but now you’re soft, she says,” hugging me tighter.

 “Someday you’ll be soft, too,” I tell her, half-heartedly, closing my eyes and leaning my head against the wall. My mind wanders and I remember being Penny’s age- whenever I cried, I never let myself be held. I would climb through my window and onto the roof where no one could see me. Then I would lay there staring at the clouds until someone called my name. It was the safest place I knew- the roof!- and the only person I ever took with me, once, was Gabe when he- And then it hits me. I sit up quickly, Penny falling backwards a bit, and say, “I know where he is.”

 She climbs off of me and I hop up, jogging down the hallway and into my room. Sure enough my window is open, cold air wafting in and every surface cold to the touch. I climb through the window and grab a hold of the eaves trough above me, pulling myself up. I peer over the edge of the roof and the patterned bottoms of two black boots assault my field of vision.

 “Gabe,” I say, and he looks over at me holding myself up, half dangling off the roof, half in the house through the window. “Get your sorry butt down here.”