Page 39 - WTP VOl.XII #2

times, she was scary,” she whispers, so faintly that I can barely make it out.
“Yes.” I make the pitch of my voice go low with certain- ty, and I hug my sister tight.
out to be the biggest lie I ever tell my sister. ~
The social worker has a messy desk. She’s rifling through papers and talking about placement.
“We currently have two foster families with room,” she tells us, “but neither one can take both of you.”
I try to object, asking for a temporary placement in a group home, just until a foster family with two open- ings can be found, but the social worker won’t budge.
“This is the only option,” she says, looking at her watch. “I’m sorry.” She doesn’t seem sorry.
She’s all set to send me to a religious couple in San Fran- cisco and Carol to a family in Oakland with two other fos- ter kids and a dog. It sounds OK until my hand brushes the forms and I get a vision that makes me shudder.
“Not this one,” I say, holding up the Oakland form.
The social worker avoids eye contact with me, and it’s then that I realize she has her own concerns about the Oakland placement.
“Somebody is going to Oakland,” she sighs.
“Then send me,” I tell her. A quick decision, over in an instant. John appears. Wait, he seems to be saying, but it’s too late. What’s done is done.
It’s strange how the smallest of actions can have the power to change everything—like a wayward step into the mud, or the release of a bullet from the barrel of a gun.
It’s a watershed moment. Carol and I become two divergent rivers tumbling farther and farther away from each other. Carol will go to a loving family where she’ll learn to ride horses and tap dance, while I’ll go to a different sort of place, where I’ll hone my survival skills even more. David will write asking what’s new, but I’ll struggle to find anything to tell him that’s fit
to print. During my hardest hours, when I’ll feel most alone and as though I might not be able to go on, John Lennon will appear out of nowhere to lend emotional support. His reassurances will usually be limited to lines from lesser known songs. “Ah! böwakawa pous- sé, poussé,” he’ll tell me. Neither of us will know what to make of it, but still, I’ll find comfort in the words.
Bullock’s short fiction has appeared in Peatsmoke, The Coachella Re- view, The Writing Disorder, Halfway Down the Stairs, The Metaworker, Bright Flash Literary Review, Idle Ink, and elsewhere. Her work has been nominated for The Pushcart Prize. She lives in Massachusetts.
“It’s a watershed moment. Carol and
I become two divergent rivers tumbling farther and farther away from each other. Carol will go to a loving family where she’ll learn to ride horses and tap dance, while I’ll go to a different sort of place, where I’ll hone my survival skills even more.”
We have what we call a Salvation Army Christmas, with one new outfit for each of us and a My Little Pony for Carol. At the 50th St. church supper there’s rolls with butter, turkey with mashed potatoes and gravy, and apple pie for dessert. They even let us take extra dinner rolls home with us.
It’s a small miracle that we go a full month, with no neighbors complaining, and with Carol and I making it to school every day. Then in January, the rent and utilities come due. I’m showing David the bills, insist- ing that there is still a way to pay for it all. David just stares at me. “Charlene,” he says gently. Then he wraps his arms around me and for once I don’t pull away, even though my own arms are two sticks by my side.
I cry until I don’t have any more breath left and the front of his shirt is smeared with my snot.
The next day I take Carol to Friendly’s where I buy Jim Dandy’s for the both of us and pay for the entire bill
in quarters. When we get home, we take showers and are in our pajamas and tucked into our mother’s bed, when I break the news to my little sister that I’ll need to call Family Services in the morning. No, I tell her, Mrs. Santos can’t take us. She’ll be in the hospital for a good long while, and she’s too old anyway. I reassure her that there is a wonderful foster family out there desperate to take in two girls exactly like us. This turns
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