Finding Jaime

Chapter 4

I could hear voices as the other kids came home from school. I stayed in the room, lying on the bed, my back to the door. I heard Mrs. Kingston shushing the boys as they came in the house and heard Charlie tell them there's a new boy in the house.

"And he's mean," I heard Charlie say.

There was a knock on the door and the door opened.

"Hey, I'm Tristan. You okay, man?"

"Fuck off," I said.

"You fuck off," he said, and closed my door.

Some time later there was a knocking on the door.

"Jaime?" It was Mrs. Kingston. "It's dinner time. Come downstairs."

"I'm not hungry," I said.

She came in and sat on the bed.

"I'm sure you are. You haven't eaten all day, from what I understand," she said, putting her hand on my back. "I can't imagine how you're feeling, I know you're upset. But come have some dinner. Mr. Kingston is home, and we're all sitting down now."

"I don't want any dinner," I grumbled.

"Jaime, I don't like the idea of kids going hungry. Even if it's their choice. Come downstairs, and have a bite. You can come straight back up afterwards."

It was clear that I wasn't going to be left alone, so I got up and followed Mrs. Kingston downstairs. In the dining room I saw a full table with five kids, two girls, two boys, Charlie and an older man. Mr. Kingston, I presumed. Mrs. Kingston led me into the dining room and indicated the empty chair beside Charlie and Mr. Kingston.

"Jaime," Mr. Kingston said, warmly. "Welcome to our home."

I didn't respond.

Food was passed around. Chicken, mashed potatoes, vegetables and rolls. Mrs. Kingston offered milk or water to drink. I took some chicken and potatoes and a glass of milk.

"You have to take vegetables," Charlie said, looking up at me.

"I don't want any vegetables," I spat at him.

"Young man," Mr. Kingston said, a warning tone to his voice. "In this house, everyone is spoken to with respect. And Charlie is right. Everyone takes vegetables."

He held the bowl of steamed broccoli for me.

I looked around the table. The rest of the kids were staring at me.

"This is bullshit," I said and stood up and went back upstairs to my room for the night. I slammed the door and lay back down on the bed.

"Mom," I said, quietly. "Why did you have to die?"

I let hot tears fall from my eyes.

I must have fallen asleep, because at some point, I heard a noise in the room. I turned around and saw Mrs. Kingston in the doorway.

"Oh, I'm sorry if I woke you up," she said. "I brought you a sandwich and a glass of milk, in case you were hungry. Normally we don't reward behaviour like yours at dinner, but since you're only here overnight, and you've suffered a sudden loss, we'll be more lenient."

She sat on the bed again beside me.

"Jaime, your life is going to be very different now. You're going to have to navigate a new world without your mom to guide you. Give your dad a chance though, huh?"

"Why should I? He was gone before I was born. He didn't give a shit about me before. Why suddenly would he now?"

She frowned at my language. I didn't care.

"It's possible your mom never told him about you. Until she had no choice. He may be just as scared as you are right now."

"I'm not scared," I scoffed.

"Forgive me for not believing you," she said, rubbing my back. "Jaime, you're hurting. I know. It's okay to be upset. It's okay to cry. It's okay to be scared.  Your world is changing in a way you never expected and never wanted."

I wasn't going to cry. Not in front of this woman.

She sighed and stood up.

"Eat the sandwich. It's peanut butter and jam. Please bring the plate and glass down when you're done. Or in the morning.  If you need anything Mr Kingston and I are right across the hall."

She got up and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. I let myself cry again once she'd left the room.  I wasn't going to let anyone see me cry, but alone? Alone I could allow myself time to grieve.

I heard the sounds of the household settling down for the night.  I heard kids saying goodnight and doors opening and closing. Bathroom taps turning on and off, and so on. As the household settled for the night I got up and looked at the sandwich on the desk.

Mrs Kingston was right. I was famished. I devoured the sandwich and the glass of milk and lay back down on the bed.

I fell into a fitful sleep punctuated by dreams of a shadowy figure in front of me. Features I couldn't quite make out. And my mom. Walking away. No matter how fast I ran, I could never catch up to her. I kept calling for her to stop and wait for me. But she always kept walking away.

I was woken up by a hand on my shoulder.

"Shh, shhh," it was Mrs Kingston. "It was just a dream.  It's okay."

I wiped my face and turned away from her. I felt her get up off the bed and heard her leave the room. 

I stayed awake a while longer, but pure exhaustion from everything that had happened lulled me back to sleep.