Guardian of Eden (27 page)

“Just forget it.” Eden crossed her arms and refused to talk to me the rest of the way home. 

 When we got home, I knew we were in for a rough night before I even opened the door. All the lights were off in the house and the song “A Whiter Shade of Pale” blared over the stereo. My mother hated that song. Once when Eden was four or five, Eden turned on the radio and the song happened to be playing. My mother picked up the radio and smashed it against the wall then reached out to smack Eden as if it were her fault the radio decided to play that song at that moment. Luckily, I was there to intercept the blow. My mother then went to her room and cried for hours. I hadn’t heard that song since, but I knew she despised it. I wondered what possessed her to play it now.

 
“ ‘bout
time you two got home,” my mother slurred. She was seated on the floor resting her head on the entertainment center and nursing a bottle of scotch. “Come give your mother a hug. It’s Christmas.” She reached out her arms and lifted her head, but she couldn’t hold it steady. She got off balance and slumped to the side spilling scotch all over the rug.

 Eden shook her head in disgust then ran off to her room.

 “That’s right! You go to your room you little tramp. You whore!” My mother threw the bottle in Eden’s direction, but it didn’t go very far shattering on the coffee table two feet away.

 “I hate you, you drunk bitch!” Eden yelled before slamming her door. 

I went over and tried to help my mother up. “Mother, I won’t stand for this. You can’t talk to her that way.”

 “But it’s true. All little girls are whores, begging men to taste the succulent fruit of their virginity.” She didn’t even sound like herself. My mother would never use the word ‘succulent.’ 

“Mother, don’t say that. You’re not making any sense.”

 “Garrett, baby, do you think I’m a whore?” Her demeanor changed and she suddenly seemed like a little girl in my arms begging for approval.

 “Of course not, mother.” She went limp. She had passed out cold. I carried her to the bedroom and tucked her in. She woke up every few moments thrashing her arms and legs wildly into the darkness then she would fall back down to the bed asleep. I stayed with her until I felt sleep had won the fight for the night.

 I went to check on Eden. I wanted Eden to understand that Holly wasn’t herself when she drank. We needed to come up with a plan to help our mother. By the time I got to her room, though, Eden was already fast asleep.

 I lay in my bed and stared at the ceiling unable to sleep again. I closed my eyes and pictured
Maddie’s
face hoping that the love we shared would be enough to calm my spirit and allow me to drift off. It didn’t work. In fact, I felt worse because of the way things ended with us. I wanted to go for a jog, but I didn’t want to leave Eden alone in the house with our mother.  Her violent attitude toward Eden frightened me. I started to think maybe Eden was right. Maybe she did love me more than Eden. But how could a mother not love her own daughter? I didn’t think it was possible. But, then again, with alcohol involved, anything can be possible.

Four hours later, I snuck into my mother’s room to make sure she was all right. To my surprise, she was gone. I ran to the front door just in time to see her car pulling away. I stood there wondering if I would ever see her again.

One good thing about public school is that it’s easy to blend into the background and not be noticed. At my old school, I was able to hide most of my problems at home. Not the case at Barton Arms. Right before Christmas break, my teachers started noticing changes in me and Eden. I started sleeping in class since I didn’t get much sleep at home and Eden started mouthing off to teachers. When their requests for a parent conference went unanswered, they got our social worker involved.

 “Garrett, open up. It’s me, Bernice,” she called as she banged on the door. It was four days before the end of break and Eden and I were getting used to fending for ourselves again. I cleaned the dishes while Eden took a shower and got ready for the day.

 I don’t know why I didn’t answer after the first knock. I saw her car pull up and even watched as she approached the door. I just hoped she would go away if I pretended we weren’t home. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Bernice Johnson. She had been my social worker since my grandmother died. I’d grown quite attached to her. I can remember several occasions when I begged to live with her instead of going to another foster home.

 When I was five, she was only about 22 and I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life. I wanted her to be my mother instead of Holly. Since Bernice was black, I thought my life would be easier that way. Over the years I even developed a little crush on her. When she came to see me in the hospital after my fight with Jimmy, I remember I proposed to her. She let me down easy saying that she didn’t want to take me away from Eden and Holly. And that one day, when they were all right, she might take me up on that offer.

 Today, she was still just as sweet and beautiful as ever, but I still didn’t want to talk to her. I didn’t want to explain to her that I hadn’t seen my mother in days. And I certainly didn’t want her putting me and Eden into foster care again. So, I continued cleaning the dishes and ignored her calls and knocks.

 She was just about to leave when Eden came out of the bathroom in her robe and noticed Bernice's car.

 “Bernice!” she exclaimed as she ran to the door and flung it
open
. She jumped into Bernice’s arms and nearly knocked her over. 

“Hi, sweetie,” she said as she returned the hug then entered the house. “It’s so good to see you.”

 “Here sit down,” Eden said showing her to the couch. “Do you want some pancakes? Garrett showed me how to make some this morning.”

 “No, sweetie, I already ate, but thank you,” Bernice said as she took off her coat and took a seat on the couch. “Eden, why don’t you go finished getting dressed and let me talk to your brother for a while?”

 Eden nodded, kissed Bernice on the cheek then bounced off to her bedroom. I dried my hands on a dish towel then went to join Bernice in the living room.

 “How are you, Garrett?” she asked. She patted the seat next to her indicating that I should sit down, but I continued standing at the end of the couch.

 “I’m fine. We’re fine,” I said crossing my arms.

Bernice nodded then pressed her lips together. After twelve years, she knew how to handle me. She knew she had to try a different approach. “You’re school called me a few weeks ago. They’re concerned about you and Eden.” She waited for me to provide an explanation. When I didn’t, she continued. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to get out here. I have about a million cases and
it’s
Christmas time. I’m just completely swamped.” 

I still didn’t respond.

 “You’re just as stubborn as ever. Richard says he hasn’t been able to break through your obstinate exterior.”

 “I don’t want to talk about Richard,” I said flopping down into the recliner next to the couch.

 
“Why not?
What did he do to you?” 

“He talks to Eden about sex.” 

Bernice paused and pursed her lips. “Is that why you won’t talk to him? Is that why you skipped your last appointment?” I didn’t respond. “Look, why shouldn’t he talk to Eden about sex? He’s a doctor.
A  licensed
professional. I’d rather her learn about sex from him than from her bonehead classmates.”

 When she put it that way, it didn’t seem so bad. It kind of made sense, but I was in no mood to admit that I might possibly be wrong, so I just sat there and stared at the wall.

 We sat in silence for a while as Bernice looked around the living room. I don’t know whether it was the lack of a Christmas tree, the lack of cars in the driveway, or my lack of warmth towards her, but she knew something was wrong.

 
“How long has she been gone, Garrett?”

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I hopped out of the recliner and went back to the kitchen.

She followed and said, “I’m talking about your mother Holly. When did she leave?”

“She’s not gone. She just went to the store to get some milk. She’ll be back any minute,” I said leaning over the sink hiding my face from Bernice.

“Fine.”
Bernice took a seat at the table. “Then you won’t mind if I just wait for her. Maybe I’ll have some of those pancakes, Eden was talking about.”

I sighed. I knew she would stick around until the truth came out. There was no use hiding it from her. “She left Christmas morning.”

“And you haven’t seen or heard from her in almost two weeks?” I shook my head.
“Oh Garrett, why didn’t you tell someone?”
Bernice stood up and embraced me.

“I don’t want to end up in foster care,” I said as I hugged her back and fought the urge to cry.

“Garrett, this is serious. Holly could be hurt. We need to file a missing person’s report. We have to get the police involved.”

“No, Bernice, please. She’ll come back. She always does.”

 “I can’t leave you two here alone. Where’s your stepfather?”

I shrugged. “We don’t need him. I’m 17. I can take care of Eden. Just let me handle things. I can do it. I always have.”

“Garrett, I can’t in good conscience-”

“Just three more days.
Eden’s birthday is in three days and I don’t want her to spend it in foster care.”

Bernice pursed her lips and drummed her fingers on the counter. She stared at me for a long time then finally said, “Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll go talk to your stepfather and see if he’ll move back in. Then I’ll talk to my friend at the police station and see if there have been any signs of Holly. If that fails, I’ll see if I can get you emancipated and get you permanent guardianship of Eden.”

“Thank you, Bernice.” I hugged her again.

“Don’t thank me yet. I make no guarantees. Even if the emancipation thing works it won’t be easy. You may have to drop out of school and get a job so you can support Eden.”

 “Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.”

The next Sunday was Eden’s birthday. This time it was my turn to coax her out of bed. Usually, she enjoys her birthday more than Christmas which is why I didn’t mind the dreadful Christmas day we’d endured. I told myself I would make it up to her on her birthday.

 “I don’t
wanna
go. I don’t feel good,” she said, as she curled into a ball on her bed.