String Boys Page 4

  “He looks like Grandpa,” Seth mumbled.

  “And like you.” Craig’s voice sounded funny, like a violin string pulled too tight. “I think you should go. Mrs. Sheridan thought of everything—even the bus for Joseph Crocker. Don’t worry. I’m not leaving my job at the warehouse. Xavier and Linda aren’t winning the lottery. I think you’re safe if you go to this junior high. It’s a challenge you can meet.”

  Seth swallowed tightly. “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re so good at this. Why’d it get so hard?”

  His father’s arm over his shoulders was one of the best things he’d ever felt. “Because I was weak. And alone. And I failed you. I’m sorry about that, Seth. I’m sorry you’re still paying for it. I… I hurt you in ways that aren’t going to heal soon. I… I don’t know how to fix that.”

  “This is good,” Seth muttered, leaning his head against his dad as they walked. “Let’s just do this now.”

  His father’s arm tightened, and they made plans for the future.

  THE BEST part of junior high was orchestra with Dr. Boyle. Seth practiced during lunch, before school, and after he got home. He played with Matty when he didn’t have soccer, but missed him sometimes and played with Kelly instead.

  Kelly still came downstairs after his family ate to listen to Seth practice.

  “Where’s your brother?” Seth asked in early December.

  “Out hanging with stupid Castor Durant. Stupid asshole. I hate him.”

  “Kelly!” Seth was so surprised he lowered his instrument. The school had given him a better one at the beginning of the year, and he’d been persuaded to return his first instrument to his grade school, where Mrs. Sheridan could find another young man or woman who would be moved by music.

  “He’s mean,” Kelly insisted. “And my stupid brother is mean when he’s done playing—I mean, hanging out—with him. And he smells like cigarettes after school. Mom and Dad got his report card and almost suspended everybody because they were so mad. And Matty said it was all your fault because you left. Who was he supposed to be friends with? And if he did his homework, Castor Durant and his stupid friends would beat him up anyway.”

  Seth stared. “Matty never said….” But Matty had smelled like cigarettes—Seth remembered that. He thought it was just junior high. Seth had avoided the bathrooms that smelled like that, but sometimes you couldn’t. He didn’t realize Matty had started to act like those boys, the ones who went to the school because it was closest and not because it was special, the ones who didn’t care about their grades.

  Kelly looked down. “He slugged me in the face last week. I told Mom I fell down playing.”

  Seth had to put the violin down because he had trouble breathing.

  “Nobody hits you,” he said, remembering those terrible days when his father had hit him. “Nobody.” Kelly frowned, and Seth saw the fading bruise now. He’d assumed a playground accident. Kelly had always been the kid who jumped off the swings when they were at their highest point, or did cherry drops off the bars when he wasn’t supposed to.

  “You can’t say anything,” Kelly whispered. “Seth, he’ll—”

  Seth had put the violin away. “He’ll what? Hit you again?”

  He strode out of his apartment, Kelly dogging his heals. “Seth, no—”

  “Nobody hurts you,” he muttered, pounding up the stairs.

  “Seth, he’ll only make it worse—”

  Seth stopped then, remembering how he hadn’t said a word to anybody either. Matty and Kelly had known about the bruises, but unless someone knocked on the door when the hitting was happening, nobody else had known. “That’s a lie they tell,” he said, hoping his father would forgive him. “That it will only get worse if you tell the world. Your dad told my dad it had to stop. Your dad won’t let him hurt you again.”

  Seth had great faith in Kelly and Matty’s dad.

  “Seth—”

  But Seth was already up the stairs, bursting into the Cruz’s living room like he and Kelly often did, without warning.

  It seemed he was a bit late.

  Matty was standing in the middle of the living room, staring at the carpet while his mother, holding baby Agnes on her hip, and his father, gesturing with his baseball hat like it was a weapon, were telling Matty he had made some bad choices.

  “These grades?” his mother snapped. “These grades are what you bring home to us? Are you high—” She stopped. “Are you high?”

  Matty stared some more holes in the carpet. “No.”

  “Have you been getting high?”

  He bit his lip, and that was enough.

  His father was front and center, dominating his son with his size until Matty backed up against the front room window. “What have you taken,” he growled.

  “Just some weed….”

  The sound that came out of Xavier Cruz’s mouth right then didn’t sound human, but apparently Matty spoke just fine.

  “And some booze,” he muttered.

  “Who?” Xavier grated. “Who are you doing this with? You don’t do this shit alone—not in the seventh grade. Who?”

  Seth looked at Kelly, who had his hand clapped over his mouth, and jumped into the breach.

  “Castor Durant,” he said, glaring at Matty. “He hit his little brother in the face too.”

  For a moment, he was afraid Xavier would hit Matty, but Xavier was a good man, the best. Kelly had told him that he hadn’t been the kind of drunk that hit. Instead, he’d laughed and cried too much.

  It was Linda who stepped in, and even though her son was almost as tall as she was in the seventh grade, he didn’t try to dodge her hand as she reached out and grabbed his ear.

  “Ouch! Mama!”

  “Into your room. Kelly, you can sleep at Seth’s this week. Xavier, you go get him his stuff.”

  “Linda?” Xavier asked, shocked.

  “Oh yes. He’s not going to school. We’ll get his assignments. He’s going to stay home with me for two weeks. He’s going to take care of his sisters and help me with the groceries and go to work with you—”

  “Go to work with me?” Xavier asked, still sounding surprised.

  “Oh yes. You won’t let a woman walk alone in your parking lot, Javi. There are people in that neighborhood who have done all the drugs and all the drinking and Matty is going to see them up close and personal. He’s going to see what his life is going to be like if he has no job skills and no schooling. All he has to do is keep going like he’s going. And then he’s going to dedicate his life to leaving boys like this Castor Durant in his rearview mirror!”

  “Mom! It’s just a little—”

  Linda gave a vicious yank on his ear. “It’s just a little nothing. I am not letting you go down this path, Mateo Cruz. I am not letting you throw your life away because of someone named Castor Durant. What in the hell kind of name is that anyway?”

  “It’s a white boy name,” Kelly whispered, but so loud that Seth saw even Xavier smirk.

  “A mean boy,” Seth corrected, and Kelly nodded.

  “Not all white boys are mean,” Kelly conceded. “But this one is bad.”

  “I’ll go get your clothes,” Xavier said to Kelly. “Seth, do you think this will be okay with your father?”

  Seth swallowed. “Dad… Dad’ll just be proud you trust him,” he said, and Xavier stopped short.

  “Do you trust him?”

  Seth nodded—not automatically, but thinking. “He really wants me not to be afraid,” he said.

  Xavier’s mouth pulled up, like he’d smile if everything else wasn’t in such chaos. “Good. Did you come up here to tell us about Kelly?”

  “Nobody hits Kelly,” Seth said, angry about it all over again.

  “No, son. You’re right there. I’ll be back.”

  When he came back, he had Kelly’s violin, because Kelly was still a string boy, and Seth’s heart squeezed a little in his chest. “You can practice with me,” he said proudly
.

  Kelly shook his head and took the violin from his dad carefully, allowing Seth to grab the suitcase full of clothes his father had brought out to the living room.

  “I’m not good like you,” he said. “I don’t want you to laugh.”

  “I’d never laugh at you, Kelly. I promise.”

  But Kelly just shrugged. Matty was still yelling at his mother, and Xavier was in the girls’ room, calming them down. It was time to go.

  Together they trudged downstairs, but Seth was a little happy.

  Kelly was still one of his favorite people, even if he was younger and hadn’t started growing yet. Still, for a week, he and his dad got to give Kelly’s family back a little of what they’d given him.

  He was still angry at Matty, and worried that his parents wouldn’t fix what had gone wrong once Seth had started going to the other school, but those other things made him happy, and he’d hold them close to his heart.

  Like Seth thought, his dad was so excited about giving back to the Cruz family a little that he went out of his way to be nice. He gave Kelly a key to the apartment so he could go there after school while he was waiting for Seth’s bus to drop him off, and made sure to stock the kitchen with lots of snacks—potato chips and soda—so it was almost like a birthday.

  Kelly had never turned down potato chips or pizza bites. So Seth would get home and Kelly would be on the couch, doing his homework in front of the television, a plate of pizza bites on the coffee table next to him. Sometimes he wasn’t even doing his homework—he was just sketching what was on TV, and Seth had taken to pinning his drawings to his bedroom wall, because Kelly was just so good at drawing little cartoons that were as happy and as bouncy as he was.

  Seth really liked having someone there when he got home from school.

  For the next two weeks, unless Kelly’s dad was taking him to soccer, Seth got to pretend that’s the way it always was.

  If Matty hadn’t been having such a hard time, Seth would have been truly happy.

  One night, he was taking the garbage out before his father got home and he met Matty as he was coming back from the dumpster.

  “Hi,” he said, hoping Matty wouldn’t yell. For a moment, it looked like he was going to, but then his lower lip started to wobble.

  “Castor Durant’s an asshole,” he blurted, as if he’d been dying to say it this whole time. “He told me he’d beat my brother up if I didn’t make him go away.”

  “What’s going to happen when you go back?” Seth asked. Matty’s parents were trying, but… but the bad kid never just went away.

  Matty shook his head. “My folks called the school, the school called Castor’s parents, and they called some social workers. His dad is big in the church, so he’s just going somewhere else for the rest of junior high. We won’t have to see him again until high school.”

  Seth frowned. “He could be an even bigger asshole then,” he said, and Matty nodded with feeling.

  “I don’t even want to know how bad it’s going to be,” he confided unhappily.

  “Maybe you could come to my school,” Seth offered shyly. “At least in high school.”

  “With what?” Matty demanded. “Kelly has art, and you have music. I don’t got nothing! I don’t got grades because I’m not smart, and I don’t got—”

  “You don’t work,” Seth said brutally. “You’re plenty smart. You copied off me when your mom was pregnant because your family was busy. Only you got used to it. You’ve got a year to pull your grades up, Matty. I’ll help you study. Your folks will help you study, but you’re right. Castor Durant is going to be gunning for you, and you have got to get out of that school!”

  They both shivered. Seth had forgotten to put a coat on when he went outside. Matty just didn’t wear one that often.

  “Missed you,” he mumbled, his face crumpling. From Matty, it was a huge admission. “Everybody else wants to be all grown-up and shit.” He looked both ways, like this was a terrible thing. “You still like to play with action figures. I miss that.”

  Seth looked down, embarrassed. “I thought you thought I was a baby.”

  Matty shook his head. “No. I don’t know how to be when you’re not at school with me. I… I hit my little brother. I can’t ever do that again.”

  “Be smart,” Seth said soberly. “Just… be smart.”

  Matty nodded. “Throw your trash away.” The bag handle was starting to leave a mark on Seth’s hand. “I’ll ask my mom if you and Kelly can come eat dinner.” He looked away unhappily. “I miss my brother too. He… he talks to you, right?”

  Seth shoved the bag in the dumpster, and together they turned back to the fourplex, taking baby steps through the graveled parking lot. “When we’re going to sleep.” Every night, Kelly would just talk and talk until he drifted off. Seth had learned to cling to every word. “He misses your sisters.” Lily and Lulu and Agnes—every night he remembered one funny thing about each kid.

  “They miss him too.” Matty shook his head. “The people where Dad works scare me. And not just the homeless guys. Dad works with guys who smoke, and they’re rough, and they get in fights, and… and every day Dad drives me home and says, ‘Jesus, Mateo, I want so much better for you.’ But I don’t know how!”

  “School,” Seth said. “Bring a notebook. Write down what the teacher says at the beginning of every class. That’s the key. They have everything on the board.”

  Matty laughed a little. “Everybody knows that,” he said gruffly.

  “Please?” Seth begged, his stomach suddenly cramping. He realized he could have lived without Matty in his life, but he needed Kelly.

  And Kelly needed Matty.

  “For your little brother? For your sisters? Don’t be like Cormorant Dural—”

  Matty cackled. “Castor Durant! Oh my God! Seth, are other people real to you?”

  “I’ve never met him!” Seth defended, feeling stupid.

  “Well, I hope you never do,” Matty said with feeling. “Guy’s a psycho!”

  They had reached the landing now, and Seth looked at Matty unhappily. “You know, your suspension ends at Christmas vacation,” he said, and Matty looked surprised.

  “It’s like they did that on purpose.”

  “We can play a lot then,” Seth said.

  “When you’re not practicing.” Matty’s expression got suddenly adult. “You… I got sort of mad at you when you went to that other school, but, Seth, you gotta stay there. That place’ll get you out. You and Kelly can get through school and never deal with guys like Castor Durant—I’d kill for that, you know?”

  Seth nodded. “There’s bullies everywhere,” he said, thinking of Joey Jefferson, who said mean things about Seth’s pants, which were too small, and his shirts, which were getting too tight. “But sometimes they’re meaner than others.”

  “Yeah. Well, I don’t wish my bullies on you or Kelly for anything. I’m off suspension Friday night. Maybe… maybe you and Kelly can come over for dinner. Maybe we can have ice cream.” Matty’s smile was hesitant. Hopeful.

  “Yeah,” Seth said. Then, because his father had been so happy to have Kelly over these last two weeks, he added, “Maybe my dad can come for ice cream.”

  “Mateo!” Linda called, coming out on the landing at the top of the stairs. “Oh! There you are.”

  “Sorry, Mom,” Matty said humbly. “Talking to Seth.”

  Linda nodded. “Well, you can talk to him more Friday night. How’s that?”

  Matty gave a quick smile, all eye sparkles and dimples like his brother. “I’d really like that,” he said and then winked. Seth grinned as Matty’s footfalls resounded on the metal-and-concrete staircase, and he went into his own apartment with a smile on his face.

  “What?” Kelly asked. “Why was Mom yelling?”

  Seth shook his head. “Matty and I were talking outside. I don’t think he’ll go on suspension again.”

  Kelly’s habitual smile disappeared, and he looked so nakedly hop
eful, Seth’s chest hurt. “Really? Like… I’ll have my brother back?”

  “Yeah,” Seth said. He’d do anything for Kelly.

  Kelly’s grin game back, blinding. “Yay! I’m starting to miss my sisters, you know?”

  “Me too,” Seth said, meaning it.

  He wanted nothing more than for things to go back to the way they were before, when the three of them were string boys and his dad had just quit drinking and it was all going to be okay.

  Only time never marched backward like that. It always pushed forward, inexorably, a glacier feeding ice into a vast and treacherous sea.

  Even if you were on the glacier, and it felt like you were still, things were still changing. Trees were splintering; rocks were getting ground to powder.

  Time was sanding your hopes and dreams smooth so they’d fit into the shape of the world, even as you saw them, beautiful, with bright and shiny edges, still in your mind.

  MATTY FINISHED his suspension and pulled his grades up. Way up. Up enough to transfer to Seth’s high school. Seth was taking orchestra and music classes—even extra ones, after school—and they both caught the city bus so their parents didn’t have to worry about them. When Kelly graduated from eighth grade, he made it too, through his art, which had graduated from big line drawings, like cartoons, to more delicate, dancing drawings that looked like real life through a beautiful lens. He never stopped the habit of coming to Seth’s house after school when he didn’t have soccer or chores, and he would sit on the battered denim couch and draw, pages and pages of anything that caught his fancy, while Seth would practice, the two of them lost in their dreams of the things they could do with the raw talent given to them.

  After Kelly transferred to the school where Seth and Matty went, they got to ride the bus together, eat lunch together, and usually Kelly would stay after school with Seth—even on the days Matty went home for soccer—to listen to him practice, or just to finish his homework.