Page 1 of Jace's Secret
1
Eight years ago
Jace Matthews is fourteen, hiding in a boys’ bathroom stall, and praying no one comes in as he unwraps his Christmas present. He’s an orphan, surrounded by other orphans, and nothing makes life worse for an orphan than being singled out by the other kids as “special.”
A Christmas present, not donated by a random church group, is special. It’s noteworthy and, now that everyone is hitting puberty, a sure way to get the shit kicked out of him after lights out. His heart is pounding in his chest, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he unwraps the present. Each crinkle of the paper is loud and echoes in the tiled room.
A stuffed dinosaur. Great. The animal is green, has spikes on his back and a pitiable expression. Well, crap. Jace holds the soft dinosaur in his hands as if it’s fragile.
Or toxic.
How will he get rid of it?
The bathroom door opens, and he holds his breath, stands still, and hopes whoever it is will just think he’s taking a shit and leave him alone.
“Jace?” Mr. Jacosta asks.
“Yeah?” he responds because the man is nice enough.
“Did you open your present?”
“Why?” He knows why.
“We need to inspect and catalog it before you can take it out of the common room.”
Jace opens the door of the stall and steps out. The stuffed animal is wide and plump. Jace wants to pet his fuzzy neon-green hair, but he doesn’t. He takes one last look at the thing. It has a smile on its face that reminds Jace of the pictures fromWhere the Wild Things Are.
Mr. Jacosta takes a step closer. “That’s a pretty nice dinosaur. Looks soft,” he says, reaching out a hand to touch.
Jace turns away, instinctively protecting his present. He doesn’t want to share.
“Sorry,” Mr. Jacosta says, and frowns. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, it’s fine. You should just take him. I’m too old for it, anyway,” Jace murmurs. He turns back around, forcing his arms straight out, offering the gift.
Mr. Jacosta doesn’t argue with him, probably because he knows Jace can’t afford the social repercussions of keeping a stuffed animal.
“Do you have kids?” Jace asks.
“No.”
Jace chews on his bottom lip as he thinks. “Can you find someone to give it to so it gets a good home?”
“Yeah, I can do that,” he says kindly. “It’s the thought that counts.”
Jace nods. “It’s from the man who saved me. I was eight. My family didn’t make it but I did, and he… he came to see me once, right after, when it was clear I didn’t have any other family to take me in. He brought me a stuffed pig. He said he’d come back, but he didn’t.”
“But he still sends you stuffed animals? That’s thoughtful.”
“He felt bad about not saving my family.”
Mr. Jacosta has nothing to say. What the hellcouldhe say?
Jace walks out of the bathroom but has to take one last lingering look back at the stuffed dinosaur. Someday, he’s going to have his own place with his own things. Then he’s going to go on eBay and find every single stuffed animal he’s had to give up or had destroyed by some asshole, and they’re going to sit on his bed and be his.
Forever.
“Jace, I’ll make sure it finds a good home.”
