Chapter 10 - If you love me and you know it, clap your hands
Van was true to his word. I didn’t see so much as a glimpse of him for the next week. Nor did I hear anything from him although his words played through my mind on endless repeat. What was wrong with me? Here I had a guy who obviously adored me, loved me, even, in a way that most people never find in their whole lifetime and I was throwing that away?

“Who cares if he loves you? You don’t love him,” Katie stated matter-of-factly, completely happy now that our roles had returned to her being the Giver of All Advice and me being the Friend with Sad and Boring Life, a.k.a. Receiver of All Advice. “Here, eat,” she passed me the bag of crunchy m&m’s, formerly my favorite salve for depression. “You’ve gotten too skinny.”

I pushed them away, letting the little colored candies spill all over my bedspread. I hated her bossy tone, her immediate assumption that things would return to exactly the way they were before, even the way she sat at the head of my bed against all the pillows while I got the metal footboard digging in my back. It’s my bed! But most of all I hated the way she said I didn’t love Van. Sure, I hadn’t been able to tell him I loved him but I never said I didn’t love him. Her words threw away every minute of the last six months of my life. They trivialized all the tears, the late nights and even the euphoria. I cared about Van in a way I have never cared about anyone else in my life before. So maybe I don’t know for sure if I love him. I think that I just don’t know what love is. Yet.

Katie narrowly avoided being on the receiving end of my tirade by the intrusion of my cell phone. I picked it up quickly, scanning the caller-ID, my heart in my throat just on the off chance it was him. Private Call.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Halley, darling, I am so glad I got a hold of you finally,” a woman’s reedy voice gushed and I struggled to place it. “I’ve been calling and calling. Well I haven’t because I couldn’t find your number. I mean, I would have been calling since Van wrote it all down for me but I couldn’t find it since it was in my other purse and I left that one at home. I think. I’ve been so worried but now it’s okay since I found you and you can take care of it for me? It’s just a small thing, a tiny thing, I promise-”

“Excuse me,” I broke in before I got committed to anything, “but this isn’t Halley. Are you looking for her?” I was seriously confused as to how someone would get my number looking for Halley. “’Cause as far as I know she’s still staying at Jimmie’s.” Which of course I wouldn’t know for sure since I haven’t been there since Van and I, well, broke up. Sort of.

“Not Halley?” The woman finally stopped talking. I finally identified the voice – it was his mom. “But Van said this was his girlfriend’s number.”

A lump rose into my throat at the word girlfriend and I turned away from Katie who was peering at me a little too intently. “Well, Mrs. Winters, this is Leigh.”

“Oh, right!” I heard the sound of her hand hitting her forehead and I sincerely hoped she wasn’t driving. “I always forget who he is dating these days.” I wondered vaguely if he had ever dated Halley but quickly put the thought out of my mind. What does it matter now? “I just figured he would be with you since he hasn’t been home for three days.”

“He’s probably been at Jimmie’s,” I said curtly. “I haven’t seen him since Saturday.”

“No, no, I’ve tried Jimmie’s,” she mumbled, suddenly sounding worried. “And he wouldn’t be staying there anyhow, he knows I have to be in Portland for job training this whole week. He has to be home to take care of the boys.”

“I’m sure they’re all fine,” I said soothingly.

“I’m not,” she sighed. “Nobody there is answering the phone and Van always, always, calls me every morning to let me know how everyone is doing. I haven’t heard from him for three days,” she repeated.

“I’m sorry,” I said lamely, a little worry starting to niggle in my own chest.

“Could you please just drive over there and make sure everything’s okay? The spare key’s over the door.” How original.

“Um,” I stuttered, the feeling growing stronger in my chest until my heart was pounding. Where was Van? What if something really was wrong? “Okay.” I hung up.

“Where are you going?” Katie gasped as I jumped off my bed and grabbed my keys.

“Out,” I said as I threw Van’s black xRighteousx sweatshirt over my head. I hadn’t given it back yet and his scent overwhelmed me.

“Is something wrong?” Katie asked, watching me carefully.

My heart thudded faster. “I hope not.” Maybe love is worrying about someone, even when you aren’t supposed to anymore?

“What on earth are you doing, Leigh?”

“I’m finding out if I love him.” I ran out the door.

………

No one answered my knock and I was immediately concerned. Looking up at the boys’ shared bedroom, I could see the window was shattered, the curtains billowing out into the frigid night air.

“Darius? Mickey?” I yelled self-consciously, waiting for the neighbors to stick their heads out and tell me to quiet down. Nobody said anything though. The silence made all the hair on my arms prickle and I checked my watch again. They should all definitely be home from school by now and probably even had dinner. But there was no sign of anyone – no TV blaring, no music pounding, nothing. Except a light back in the kitchen. I squinted through the bubble glass by the front door trying to make out a shape, a color, anything. Sliding the cold key off the slippery doorframe, I quickly entered the house.

A blast of cold, foul air hit me in the face. “Oh,” I gagged, covering my mouth and scanning the room for the source. It was immediately apparent. The front room was covered in rotting food, garbage and, I walked over to a pile, animal feces. The urge to throw up was intense and I ran back out the front door, sitting heavily on the cement steps. After several deep breaths, I got up to try again. Holding my coat over my mouth and nose, I pushed through the living room and back to the kitchen where the light from the open fridge gave scant illumination.

I tried not to recoil. Food was everywhere as were more animal droppings and all the cupboards had been emptied onto the floor. Never in my life had I seen such a mess. “Darius? Mickey?” I tried again, unable to keep the panic out of my voice. Obviously something awful had happened here. There was a break-in or a robbery or a kidnapping or…I wouldn’t let my mind finish as I raced up the stairs to the bedrooms. “Darius! Mickey!” I screamed, throwing open the door to their room. The bare mattress was upended against one wall, glass from the broken window studded the stained carpet and a dank odor filled my nose. Kicking a pile of filthy clothes away from the door, the reason for the smell became obvious. Now I could add human feces to the list of horrors.

I tried the next door – Mrs. Winter’s bedroom, apparently. Things were similarly demolished and no signs of the children were apparent. There was only one door left. Holding my breath, I pushed open Van’s room. The first thing I noticed was the cleanliness. Everything was immaculate. Then my eyes were drawn to the walls. Artwork covered every square inch of them and even the ceiling. Sketches, ink drawings, paintings, and cartoons flowed from one scene to the next in a whirl of life, death, joy and sorrow. Upon closer examination, I began to recognize some of the faces in the pictures. Classmates, friends, Jimmie, Halley and many more I didn’t know but suddenly felt as if I did, just from the sheer intimacy of their portraits. I was so engrossed looking at one of a largeish man right over the head of the bed that I almost missed the boys crouching underneath it.

“Mickey?” I gasped as the little redhead crawled out, shaking and pale. Darius was right behind him. I threw my arms around them, trying not to sob with relief. “What on earth happened? Are you guys okay?”

“Ppplease,” Darius, the older one, stuttered, “please don’t be mad at us. We was just hungry.”

Mickey stared at me with large unblinking eyes. “Got food?”

“Um,” I had brought nothing with me but I had my purse. “You guys like McDonald’s?”

“Aieee!” Their scream of joy was answer enough.

“Okay, I’ll take you guys there but you have to tell me what happened. Did somebody break in? Did anyone hurt you?” They shook their heads sadly but didn’t answer. “Where’s Van?” I stared around his room again. My eyes fell on a portrait of a boy sitting on the edge of a cliff, his legs dangling over the precarious edge. His face was a perfect balance of fear and curiosity. I recognized that boy. It was Van. My heart leapt as I saw him like I’d never seen him before – how he saw himself. Suddenly I knew it. In the midst of all that perfect squalor and destruction and chaos, I knew why I had come. I loved him.

“We dunno,” Mickey shrugged.

“He was supposed to come home after my momma left but he didn’t,” Darius said.

“What?” I narrowed my eyes and stood up. “You two have been all alone in this house for three days?”

“All alone,” Mickey repeated and Darius nodded seriously. “We didn’t open the door to nobody but the smell got real bad so we had to open the window.” He pointed down the hall to the window. “I did it. I made Mickey go out so he wouldn’t get hurt. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” I said, hugging him tightly to me. “It’s okay. You did what you had to do. It’s okay, do you understand me?” A million feelings were racing through me, from rage to fear to complete disgust all the way back to wonderment at my new-found feelings. What had gone wrong here? They could have died!

Darius broke for the first time since he saw me come in and fell in my arms weeping. “We didn’t come out when you called ‘cause we didn’t want to get in no trouble.”

Mickey took the cue from his brother and started crying too. “We bad boys.”

“No you’re not. You are wonderful, good little boys and I am so glad you are safe.” But now what? They obviously couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t take them home either – they weren’t stray puppies. Something had to be done. Did I call Child Protective Services? The police? My mother?

“We jus’ hungry!” Mickey sobbed, reminding me of the first thing to be done.

“Okay, okay,” I carried them down the stairs.

“Don’t forget BoBo!” Darius cried, suddenly throwing himself out of my arms.

“Who?”

He rescued an old black dog from under the couch. “He’s not suppose to come in but we had to ‘cause it was so cold outside!”

“Come on, BoBo,” I said resignedly and headed for the front door. I paused – written on the wall in permanent marker right next to the door was a list of phone numbers. One of them was local - Nana. Grabbing my pen from my purse, I quickly scrawled it on my hand.

Once at McDonald’s with two Happy Meals for each boy and an entire playland at their disposal, I returned to the problem at hand. At last I called up the number on my cell phone that Van’s mom had called from. It rang and rang until I got the manager of a motel. Obviously she wasn’t in. Next I tried “Nana.” She answered on the first ring. After explaining who I was, she immediately agreed to meet me at the house although it would take her at least an hour to get there.

After forty-five minutes of joy, I had to tell the boys it was time to go back. They looked less than thrilled. “It’s okay,” I tried to reassure them, “your Nana is coming to get you. You can stay with her until your momma comes home.” I’d have to figure out where Van was later…

It was much later, after I’d made the hand-off to Nana (without so much as an overnight bag for the boys as every single thing in the house was trashed), and was trying to pick up the house, that the phone rang. I wasn’t going to answer it but then I thought it might be Van’s mom checking in. I recognized the voice on the other end as soon as he said, “Mom?”

“Van!” I said, more harshly than I had intended. “Where are you?”

“Leigh?” he asked timidly. “Where are my brothers? Are they okay?”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “They’re with your Nana, they’re fine. No thanks to you, though.”

“Oh, I am so glad!” He sounded as if he might cry. “Thank you so much Leigh, thank you. I’ve been so worried about them and…”

“Why did you leave them here alone?” I yelled, feeling like I might cry myself. “What’s wrong with you? You should see what they’ve done to this place! You’ll be lucky if you don’t get evicted. Where are you?”

“I’m in jail.”

“Wha…?” I covered my eyes. “Truancy?” Really, I had been expecting this call for a while now.

“No. Assault.”

“What?” I sat down on the couch, remembered what I had just cleaned off of it and jumped up again.

“Remember that frat party?” I didn’t say anything. “Well, yeah. I guess one of the brothers got knocked out with a chair at the house. He’s still in a coma but his family is pressing charges.”

“A coma? That’s horrible! No wonder they were so mad that night. But,” I spluttered, trying to wrap my mind around this dreadful news, “you didn’t even go in the house – the fight had moved to Val’s long before we got there.”

“I know,” he said grimly, “but the guy at the front door placed me there and the other guy, well, he’s in a coma.” I rubbed my eyes again and tried to think. “Frat boy in a coma, I know, I know, it’s serious…” Van sang softly, twisting the classic Smith’s lyrics.

“This isn’t funny!” I snapped, annoyed that he could be in jail and still be cracking jokes.

“It’s called deathbed humor, sweetheart.”

“You know, the chair actually sounds like Jimmie’s handiwork.”

“I know, he’s definitely a prop man, but I’m not going to tell them that.”

“What?” I said, trying to infuse my voice with cold fury but only working up to dread.

“I’m not going to rat him out. Not ever and certainly not for this.”

“Why not? He did it!” His silence was maddening. “Well, probably.”

“Probably.”

“Is this some kind of weird street code? sXe honor? I don’t get it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“So you’re just going to take his rap for him?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I don’t have one,” he sighed, “yet. My first concern was just to make sure my brothers were okay. This is the first time I’ve been able to contact anyone.”

“You should have told the police.”

“And have my brothers sent to foster care and my mom jailed for neglect?” He snorted loudly. “No thanks, I’ve been there and I’ll die before I let those two little guys go into that hell.”

“You should have called me then.”

“I was keeping my word.”

I tried not to scream into the phone. “Next time, when it’s a matter of life and death, just call me!”

There was a long pause and then, “What if it’s just a matter of life?” For a second I thought he was talking about us again – our life together – but then he clarified. “Because that’s how long I could go to prison if the prosecutor gets his way.”

“What? How do you know?”

The strength in his voice finally broke and he whispered into the phone, “I don’t. I mean, all I hear is them talking and they keep trying to get me to sign this paper – this plea bargain – but I can’t understand it and I think if I do then it means I’m guilty but they keep saying if I don’t sign it and it goes to trial, I could get life!”

I dropped the phone on the counter top and laid my head on my arms. This day. “Leigh?” I heard the phone squeak. “Leigh??”

Finally I picked it up, “I’ll take care of it.”

“What?”

I sighed, more tired than I have ever been, “I said I’ll take care of it.”

“How? You suddenly have mob ties or something?”

“Don’t sign anything.” I hung up the phone.

………

“Leigh-A, honey, what’s wrong?” my dad asked the second he saw my face. I wasn’t prepared for that. I was hoping to prep my speech and catch him on my own terms, after I’d gone through it in my mind enough times. But here he was, sitting at the kitchen table and looking at me as if I were the best thing that had happened to him all day.

My capable façade crumbled and I fell sobbing on the table. “Dad,” I choked out at last, “it’s all so awful. I don’t know what to do anymore. I want to help him. I said I’d help him but I’m so confused!”

“Van?” My dad didn’t even seem surprised. I spilled my guts. Told him everything. Down to the last detail. By the time I finished, I’d depleted two boxes of tissues and my dad had a new worry line. I waited, expecting him to forbid me from ever seeing Van again or to at least tell me how stupid I was to try and take on this whole thing myself. Instead, he stood up slowly, as if he were feeling very old, and reached for the phone. “I’ll call grandpa.”

“Really?” I sighed with relief. My grandpa had been a trial lawyer for twenty years before becoming a circuit court judge. Now he was retired but he still had a lot of influence in the community.

He dialed the numbers. “Who better to trust when you’re in trouble than your dad?” he said softly, putting his arm around me.

After several hours of phone calls and discussions, wherein I attested to the police that I could witness that Van was not ever in the frat house and that he was with me at the time of the assault, my grandpa worked his magic and Van was set free without a mark on his record. It was almost two in the morning by the time I got the happy news. My dad sat heavily in the chair next to me. “Leigh,” he started.

“Thank you, daddy,” I smiled gratefully and hugged him. “Thank you so much.”

He shook his head and ruffled my hair. “Thank your grandpa. He really went out on a limb for you – everything hinged on how trustworthy you are, you understand that?”

“Oh, absolutely,” I nodded. “I didn’t lie, I promise.”

“I believe you,” he said slowly, “but I’m not sure I believe Van.”

“Oh, daddy,” I started.

“I know that you think you love him,” his brow furrowed and then relaxed as if he were consciously trying to unknot it, “but I have to say that I don’t think he is good for you.”

“I know he gets in a lot of trouble but believe me, his heart is good and-”

“I’m sure it is but honey, the truth is, this kid is a mess and it was his bad choices put him in this situation. Besides, both grandpa and I got the distinct feeling that there was something he wasn’t telling us and probably not you either.”

I flushed, remembering our conversation about Jimmie. “I’m sure if he was hiding anything, he was just trying to protect somebody.”

“A criminal?” he said sternly. I sighed. My dad had a point. And one I agreed with. “You are sixteen. You are a beautiful young lady now.” I blushed and looked down. “I can’t tell you who to love or what to do with your life but as your father, I can do everything in my power to help you see a heartbreak when it’s coming right at you.”

That wasn’t what I had expected. It almost would have been easier if he had banned me outright from ever seeing Van again – at least then I would have had something to fight against. Besides my own heart. “I’m trying my best,” I whispered.

“I know you are,” he patted my hand, “but you can’t see everything right now. Just think about what I said. Give it a break. If it really is love, it’ll still be there.”

“Really? Does love keep?” That certainly wasn’t the impression I’d gotten.

“Maybe not in the form it’s in now but if it’s real love, it’ll always be there in your heart. Perhaps you’ll discover that you love him, not romantically but just for the beautiful human being that he is.” You are a child of God. So’s Halley. So’s Van. Cole’s voice echoed in my mind and I wondered if that was what my father was talking about. Maybe he wouldn’t have laughed at me on that street corner after all. Reaching out and patting my hand, my dad finished, “And sometimes, that kind of love is the best kind.”
- posted by Charlotte @ 8:15 AM