Page 80 of The Story of You
“What did you do?” I said, not believing he’d actually tell me.
Laying his head back on the chair’s high back, he closed his eyes. “A home for boys. They took him without proper pap-paperwork with enough money.”
His body went limp.
No matter what I did, I couldn’t rouse him. I led his body toward the floor and dragged him to the couch. It’s never easy dragging dead weight and with Father, he worked out, so he had heavy muscles. I was a skinny teen. Now that he reeked like vomit and sin, it was easier to leave him. I covered him with a blanket and left him there.
I went to bed happy. I had something. A place. No name but it was something to work with.
* * *
Silas
Father didn’t go in to work the next morning. He was quiet. I made him breakfast and coffee. I set a couple of Advil next to his plate. We’d done this before. I remember that it was a Friday. Oliver wanted to make a mess, so I fed him quickly and made plans in my head to take him out for the day.
The whole time I was on edge.Did he remember what he said last night?Then, I didn’t know how alcohol worked. It was well before I began drinking. Often you forget things and then they seep back to you in flashes.
When Oliver and I returned home, Father was waiting. “Put Oliver in his room.”
“Sir. He’s two and a half. I can’t leave him unsupervised—”
“Now.”
Oliver was going to scream. I’d have to shut him in. I was furious, hating Father for it.
I brought Oli upstairs. “Baba. Baba!”
My heart shattered. “I know. I’ll be back. Okay? Just play with this.” I handed him a toy, but as soon as I shut the door, he screamed.
I pulled a long breath to steel myself. The only way out was to get through whatever Father wanted to talk to me about. The sooner I went down, the sooner I could get back to Oliver.
I wished for Darius.
We could hear Oliver’s muted cries from the living room where Father invited me to sit. “Was that necessary?”
“We’ll see. That depends on you. What did I say to you last night? Lying is ill-advised.”
If only I could lie then as well as I can now. If only I could lie to him at all. “You said you’d put Darius in a boy's home of some kind. You didn’t say where.”
“I hope you’re not getting any stupid ideas about it. You’re seventeen,” he reminded me.
Seventeen. A minor. He still held all the cards. Though I would be eighteen in a few months.
“You told everyone I was crazy—including me.” I don’t know what I hoped to achieve with that statement.
His open palm cracked across my face hard enough to break my lip and draw blood. The sting of it inspired the tears. I wouldn’t cry because of him, but I couldn’t help my body’s reaction.
“I can do anything I want to you, Silas. Remember that.” The violence in that statement permeated my bones.
I read between the lines of his terrorizing promises. “I won’t tell anyone. I won’t do anything about it. What could I do?”
I licked the blood off my lips.
A job. I could get a job. But who would look after Oliver? Could Father prevent me from taking him? Would he call the police? Why did he still care to keep me? He had enough money to hire help.
I knew why he kept Oliver—to control me. He didn’t seem overly worried about me trying to do anything about it. But why keep me?
The reason sat between us. I was afraid to admit it out loud, but I knew.
