The Agency

LIV. bits and pieces

"But I don't want to go, brother," Yves whined in thickly accented English, clutching Marcel's leg. The man who stood in front of them did not look friendly. He was tall and broad-shouldered with completely silver hair even though he didn't have a single line on his face to indicate he was old. His hair was in a comb-over, and he had sharp, icy blue eyes. The way he stared at Yves made him uncomfortable. The man looked at Yves like a child staring at the newest toy in the store. The look wasn't fatherly or familial at all. Yves knew what that looked like. It was how Marcel stared at him every day.

Yves wanted to stay with his brother. Why couldn't they just stay together? Everything had been okay so far. It had been hard when they first ran away from the bad place, but now Marcel had a job. Even though Marcel had to be away for long periods of time, Yves was going to school and finally getting accustomed to America. They stayed in a motel and Marcel made Yves promise to everyone that Marcel was 18 and their parents were dead. But now Marcel said that he had to go away for a long time. And he couldn't take Yves with him.

Marcel looked down at him with a sad smile. "It's for the best, petit frère. This man will be able to take care of you. You will learn so much about the world. You will get even stronger than me!"

"Je veux devenir fort avec vous, je n'ai besoin de personne d'autre," Yves whispered, burying his small face in Marcel's jeans. (I want to grow strong with you, I don't need anyone else.)

The man's smile stretched even further on his face, taking his creepy expression to the next level. "He can speak French as well? How amazing. I can't wait to see what else you can do, little guy." He laughed. "Je vais vous apprendre beaucoup de choses, mon fils." (I will teach you many things, my son.)

Yves blushed. He didn't know that the man would be able to understand him. He did not look like he would be able to speak their language. French sounded so alien coming out of his mouth.

Marcel patted Yves's head and smiled at the man. "I'm sorry about my brother. He's very shy. Ever since we lost our parents, it's just been us, so this is going to be very hard for him." He turned to Yves. "I told you to practice your English."

The man nodded somberly. "It's no problem. I understand the situation perfectly."

Yves felt Marcel stiffen underneath his small hands. "Will you stick to our deal? I must be able to visit him on weekends. You will treat him as if he is your own son. If I see that he is being mistreated in any way, I will report you to the authorities."

The man looked taken aback. "Je suis un homme de ma parole." (I am a man of my word.)

Marcel exhaled a shaky breath and kneeled down to face his little brother. His eyes were tired and littered with bags. His skin sagged with the stress of a man far older than he was. "Yves, you are the most important person in my life, and I'm only doing this because I love you. I cannot take care of you with our current situation, so you're going to stay with this man for a while."

"But we've been doing okay! We get to have pizza every night! All of the kids at school are jealous of us!"

Marcel smiled sadly. "That's the problem. We shouldn't be eating pizza every night. You deserve salmon and mushrooms and risotto."

Yves didn't know what risotto was, but he decided he didn't like it. "Where are you going?"

"Another man has already agreed to take me."

"Can I meet him?"

Marcel shook his head. "No, Yves, you can't. You have to go right now." He wrapped his arms around his shaking little brother, trying to calm him. He put his lips to Yves's ear and whispered. "Je t'aime, petit frère. Nous serons bientôt ensemble." (I love you, little brother. We will be together again soon.)