And I knew Nick’s love for Auntie Reba.
He loved her in a way that was indescribable. It wasn’t like she walked on water or was the earth and moon and stars.
It was different.
It was breath.
It was necessity.
She was the last of my blood and she was life to him.
So we hung on to each other. It was the only thing we could do.
Nick put up with me, which was saying a lot. I was a difficult child, an even worse teen, always on a mission to save a broken-winged bird; a shy schoolmate; a forest in Brazil I’d never even see. I didn’t party or get out of control in any normal way, but I was out of control just the same.
I became a social worker which had Nick worried. He didn’t think I needed any more causes.
“Christ, you’ve saved the trees, you’ve made the wilting violet into the prom queen and you’ve marched to take back the night. You can’t save the world, Jules,” Nick said.
“Maybe not, but I can try,” I retorted, full of youthful bravado.
“Then I hope the Lord saves us all from you trying to save us all,” Nick finished.
After graduating from college, I had a few jobs and kept my boundaries. Nick was surprised, he was certain I’d run amok in my quest to save the world.
This unfortunately put Nick at his ease. He’d thought I’d settled down.
Then I got the job at King’s Shelter for runaway kids.
This went well, for awhile. The kids responded to me and I’d found my niche.
That was until about four months ago when I walked into the Shelter and Roam and Sniff were looking funny.
* * * * *
I walked back into the kitchen opened a bottle of red wine and poured myself a glass in one of my big bowled, red wine glasses. I went back through the hall to the living room and threw myself on the chaise lounge.
Boo jumped up and settled in my lap.
“Meow,” he said to me.
“Quiet, Mommy’s thinking,” I told him and then slid my finger under his jaw and rubbed.
He purred.
I looked out the window and, even though I didn’t want to, I remembered.
* * * * *
Roam, Sniff and Park were my boys, we were close. It took months but I worked hard and got them to trust me.
They’d been on the street for years but none of them was over sixteen. I’d rounded them into the Shelter, going day in and day out to 16th Street Mall, where they hung out, and talked to them. I got a lot of kids from the street into the Shelter, then into counseling, then to reunions with their parents (if it worked), then family counseling, then home (if it really worked).
Roam, Sniff and Park were never going to go home. They told me about their homes. Their homes were evil and there was no way I’d finagle that kind of reunion. So, I just worked at keeping them clean, safe, fed and educated.
That day, that, shitty, awful day when I arrived at King’s, I noticed Park wasn’t there and I knew that Roam and Sniff knew something.
I cornered Sniff, the weakest of the pack, and asked where Park was.