Page 28 of Further To Fall

She blushed even redder. “I should get back to my class. Thanks again for everything.” Carter hesitated for a moment, and I hated that I had caused this awkwardness between us. When she reached her arms around my waist, I inhaled her faint flowery scent and breathed out a sigh of relief. “You’re the best,” she whispered into my chest.

“Anything for you, Firecracker.”

14

Carter

The sky was still just a little bit pink, the hue a leftover from a gorgeous sunrise, as I headed up the walkway towards the school’s main doors. My steps faltered for a second when I noticed a small figure sitting on the front steps, baseball cap pulled low. My heart sped up as I realized it was Michael. “Hey, Miss McCarthy. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course.” I turned and sat on the step next to him.

As I sat, he looked up, and I saw that his cheek was puffy and turning a dark blue. “I need your help.” His lower lip began to tremble.

I bit the side of my cheek until I tasted blood to keep myself from crying. Reaching out, I grabbed Michael’s hand. “I will do absolutely everything I can to help you, but you have to tell me what’s really going on.” He nodded. “Come on, let’s go inside and find a quiet place to talk. And I’ll get you some ice for your cheek.”

He nodded again, and on a faint whisper said, “Okay.”

I stood and helped Michael to his feet. As we walked through the silent hallways, our footsteps echoed off the walls, and my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I took a deep breath, trying to steel my nerves. Michael was trusting me with his secrets, and I needed to stay strong for him.

I motioned Michael to the main office and pushed open the door. Joanne was already behind the reception desk, getting things organized for the day. “Good morning, Joanne, do you have the keys to Cindy’s office?” Cindy was our guidance counselor, but our budget only allowed her to be here twice a week, and today was not one of those days.

Joanne’s brows furrowed as she eyed Michael at my side. “Sure thing, honey, got them right here.” She slipped the keys into my hand, and I headed towards the counselor’s office.

I unlocked the door and flicked on the lights. “Why don’t you grab a seat, Michael? I’m going to ask Mrs. Woodward to get me some ice.” Michael nodded woodenly and sat down on the couch in the office as I headed back to Joanne. In hushed tones, I said, “Joanne, I need you to do a couple of things for me.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I don’t think so. I need you to call in a sub for me today, I’ll need one at least for the morning. I also have a feeling I’ll be needing you to call the police but wait until I give you the go-ahead on that. I’ll open the door and nod if that’s the case. Also, can you go to the teacher’s lounge and fill a bag with ice for me?”

Joanne’s eyes filled with tears as she patted my hand. “Of course, dear. You just go take care of that boy.”

“Thank you, I’ll do my best.” I turned and headed back to Michael. When I opened the door, I found him wringing his hands. “I’m really glad that you wanted to talk to me. I want you to know that we can go as fast or as slow as you want. And if you need a break, all you have to do is ask, okay?”

“Okay, Miss McCarthy,” he mumbled.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and asked, “Who gave you the black eye?”

Michael stayed silent for a moment and then said, “My dad.”

Over the next two hours, Michael slowly told me how his dad, Joe, had begun pushing him around over the past few months, berating him for being “lazy” and “no good to anyone,” and finally hitting him. It turned out that Joe had recently lost his job. This meant that he was home all the time and drinking more heavily. It also meant that Michael’s mother, Sofia, often had to pull double shifts at her job and was home a lot less. Michael said that his mom had no idea his father was hitting him. Joe had threatened Michael that if he told anyone, he could get Michael’s mother sent back to Mexico, so Michael had stayed silent.

I had never experienced such a vicious warring of emotions before. I felt torn in two between my grief for all that Michael had endured, and my complete and total rage at his father. When Joanne knocked on the door to hand me the ice pack, I nodded at her as a go-ahead to call the police. Now, I needed to prepare Michael to face them. “Michael, I had Joanne call the police so that we can make a report.” His tiny body stiffened next to mine. “I know it’s scary, but this is the right thing to do, and I will be with you every step of the way.”

“They’re going to take me away, aren’t they?”

I rubbed a hand up and down his back. “I’m not sure what will happen, but I’m going to write down my cell phone number for you. You can call me at any time if you get scared, no matter where you are, okay?” I knew that Michael would most likely be placed in emergency foster care until his mother was cleared of any wrongdoing, but I didn’t want to scare him before he talked to the police.

“Thanks, Miss McCarthy.” His words were betrayed by the trembling of his lower lip.

My heart clenched. “Of course. I’m going to go out to the lobby and bring them back here, okay?”

“Okay.” He looked so lost, but I knew the only way that would change was to keep moving forward.

The rest of the day was spent walking through Michael’s story with the police and a social worker. I was grateful that they were all kind, gentle, and seemed to have no doubts about what Michael said. The female police officer had to take photos of Michael’s face, and the faint remnants of bruising on his wrist.

I tried to get Michael to eat some lunch in the middle of all the chaos, but he just picked at his food and sipped his soda. As the police wrapped things up, the social worker confirmed my suspicions, telling Michael that she would be taking him to a temporary foster home tonight. He started to cry, and I almost lost it as I wrapped my arms around his shaking body.

The social worker assured him that he could keep his cell phone with him and that he could call her or me anytime he wanted to. This seemed to ease his mind a little, but he was clearly overwhelmed. I would have given anything to take him home with me, but I knew that wasn’t allowed. I gave Michael one more squeeze as the social worker picked up his backpack, ready to be on their way.

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