Page 18 of Paint the Town, Dove
No.
Did Flack place all the mugs and plates in the kitchen cabinet?
No.
Bailey, a girl from school, says her Mom helps her into jackets while her Dad makes sure the car is warm enough for her to sit in during wintertime.
I wish I had jackets myMomcould help me into.
I wishDadhad a car to warm up for nice drives.
I didn’t even know the meaning of the wordparents. I only knew Sinead and Flack.
My muddy white sneakers padded along the cracked cement, leading me right to lonely boy. “Are you homeless?”
That got his attention.
“Am I homeless?”
“Are you?”
He sighed. “I wish.”
“Why would anyone want to be homeless?” I took a seat next to him, reaching for blades of grass and yanking out the weeds. What a boring hobby. Even for a homeless boy.
“You can’t just drop a bomb on me like that and not tell.” I nagged him, it was fun. I couldn’t nag my family.
You can’t nag people who aren’t around.
“Are you new to the neighbourhood?” He asked me so softly, it reminded me of a teacher or a police officer or… I don’t know, someone adult.
I shook my head. “No.”
I lied. Of course I lied. Sometimes you need to lie to live.
“I’ve never seen you before.”
“Ditto.” Lie number two.
He decided to look at me. Pure green eyes, like the grass he was pulling. I never backed down from a staring competition. Never ever.
He looked away and slumped forward. “Mom says we have a roof over our head so I should be happy. She says that I should ignore the way Corban treats her but I can’t. He’s a bad man. He doesn’t deserve my Mom.”
There it was again.
Mom.
What was a mom?
It wasn’t Sinead. It couldn’t have been.
Mom’s care about their kids.
[What did it feel like to be cared for?]
I couldn’t look away from him, even when the competition was over. Of course I’d won, but his reaction wasn’t satisfying.
“Who’s Corban?” I asked, knocking my sneakers against his. Mud flew onto the laces but he didn’t care. Sinead would have had me on dish duty for the next month.
