Dreaming the Storm

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Evan squeezed his hands hard against his ears. He didn’t want to hear any more today, not of anything. His clothes crowded close around him, scratchy and soft and smooth, making an even smaller room inside his closet. A room he finally felt safe in.

The black behind his closed eyes turned to shifting red. Someone had opened his closet door.

He pushed against the cold wall, shoes he’d tossed back here and forgotten digging into his backside. Rich scents of grass, dirt, and his own stale feet rose up at the movement. Maybe whoever it was wouldn’t see him huddled behind the row of pants and jackets. Evan was afraid his legs showed, though. He should have put the rolled up sleeping bag and heavy winter blankets in front.

The light moved again, and Evan only squeezed his eyes shut until his eyeballs ached. He heard rising and falling sounds through his hands, closer and slower than the shouting. Someone was trying to talk to him. He should be polite and see who it was, but he just didn’t want to.

A cold, damp hand closed over one of his and he flinched away. That hand was too small to be one of his parents. The voice was too soft to be either of them.

He risked barely opening one eye.

Gwen, that was his big sister Gwen. Still wearing her school clothes. Stripy pants so wide at the bottom that Evan didn’t know how she could walk, and a shirt with ruffles all over. She leaned in close, her long pigtail braids swinging forward. He shifted his right hand the tiniest bit off of his ear. He could still hear the shouting, but not too bad.

“Come on, Evvie. It’s time to go.”

Evan shook his head and hid his face against his knees. He was almost four years old now. Too big to be a scaredy-cat anymore. But he was scared to death of walking through the house right now.

Gwen leaned so close he felt her warm breath on his cheek, so Evan lifted his hand away from his ear again. A ringing pop brought all the noise back into his head.

“It’s okay. Mom will know where we are,” Gwen whispered. “She told me to take you with me when this happens.” He squeezed his eyes closed again and started to cover his ear. Gwen grabbed his hand. “I’m supposed to take you with me, so come on.”

Evan opened both eyes then, wanting to tell her to go away and leave him here in his closet. He felt safe here. If he ran to his bed and got enough pillows to go with his clothes, he could bury his head enough to drown out the whole wide world.

Gwen’s brown eyes were right in front of his, and she was crying. He’d hardly ever seen her cry. She was nine, and so much bigger than him that he thought she never cried anymore. She held out her hand.

“We’re just going down the street to Mr. and Mrs. Fincastle’s house. They’ll know what to do. It’s okay.”

He lowered his hands so he could get up, but a loud shout from his Daddy made him jump and cover up his ears again. Gwen squinted up her face, then put both hands under Evan’s arms and lifted him up. She grabbed his fuzzy tan coat with big wooden buttons he could fasten by himself off the floor and wrapped it around his shoulders.

He could tell by her mouth that she was asking if he was ready, but he didn’t dare uncover his ears again. Evan nodded, trying his best to be brave and strong. He followed his big sister.

Gwen had on her own coat with long brown fringe hanging from the sleeves and her big denim bag full of school books slung over one shoulder. That bag scared Evan and made him wonder just how long they were going to have to stay at the Fincastle’s house.

He stayed as close behind her as he could on the shaggy blue carpet in the hall and on the stairs, so close that he bumped into her when she stopped to open the front door. He thought he heard a crash coming from the kitchen, and Gwen whirled around and looked that way.

Evan was too afraid to look. Now that he was out of his safe closet and almost through the house, he just wanted to get away. Gwen was crying harder now, but she managed to get the door open and pushed Evan through in front of her.

“I’m sorry, Evan,” she said, putting her arm around him when the door was closed. He finally lowered his hands all the way, curling his fingers against the freezing cold. But he could still hear his parents shouting inside.

That awful sound was the end of the world to him.

“We’ll just go over there for a little while, and Mom will come and get us when things calm down.”

“What if they hurt each other?”

This time Gwen didn’t look sad or cry at all. She looked really, really angry. Her mouth turned down and her eyebrows made sharp lines pointing toward her nose.

“They never have before.” Her mouth was a tiny, thin line now, like his Daddy’s was sometimes. When she was mad, Gwen looked so much like his Daddy that it made Evan a little scared. “What Mom told me is to get away and take you with me, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

They walked just down the block and across the street, Evan holding tight to Gwen’s hand. He stopped every few feet to look back over his shoulder. He couldn’t hear his parents anymore, but he kept imagining he could.

“What are you looking for?” Gwen said.

Evan stared at Gwen, not wanting to upset her more than she already was. Mist puffed out of her nose and mouth and her cheeks were bright red from the icy wind.

“What if they do hurt each other, Gwennie?” He didn’t say what he was really thinking, what his belly was feeling.

What if daddy hurts mommy?

“There’s nothing you can do about that, Ev. They’re both grownups. Mom told me once that all I can do is stay out of the way. Now I’m big enough to get you out of the way, too.”

Evan closed his eyes, trying to squeeze the tears back inside. Some part of him, a part too old for his mind and body, was crying out that he could do something. Not only that he could, but he had to.

If he let his parents fight and never did anything about it, whatever happened would be his fault. Evan’s fault. He wanted to run away and never look back, and he knew in his bones that leaving them alone screaming like that could only make things worse.

Gwen started up the steps to the Fincastle’s house, but Evan hung back again.

“What’s wrong?” Gwen said. “We should go inside. It’s not good to just hang around out here.”

“Will Mr. and Mrs. Fincastle be mad at us too? For wanting to stay here?”

Gwen shook her head and pulled on Evan’s hand.

“They never have been before. They’re really nice. Don’t worry. They know what to do.”

Gwen reached up to ring the doorbell, and Evan kept himself from pulling her away. He didn’t want to bother anyone. He’d be perfectly fine sitting here on the porch, hidden where no one could see him.

Not being seen made a lot of sense to Evan.

Before he could say a word, Mr. Fincastle opened the door. His big, warm smile went away when he got a good look at the two of them. Evan stared down at his bare, grownup feet poking out of faded jeans that were all strings at the bottom.

“Are you two okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Gwen said. “We just need to… Can we stay here for a little while?”

Evan glanced up at the shaky sound of his big sister’s voice. She hardly ever sounded scared, even less often than she cried. Mr. Fincastle opened the door wide and stepped back.

“Of course you can. Anne just went down for a nap, so walk quiet as a mouse.”

Evan was confused for a few seconds, worried about just how quiet a mouse walked. He remembered a birthday party at Mr. and Mrs. Fincastle’s house back during the summer. Anne turned one that day, but she hadn’t walked very well at all. What Evan remembered best was how she’d laughed when she dug her small fists into the pink icing on her cake.

He did his best to tiptoe as he and Gwen followed Mr. Fincastle inside.

“Come on back to the kitchen, and I’ll get you something to drink. Mom, we have company.”

A television with wood all around was on in the living room, but no one was in there watching. Evan saw a man with a big nose and a blue suit talking, a man he’d seen a lot lately. The man waved his arms and said “Well, I am not a crook…” as Evan walked by.

Evan expected to see Mrs. Fincastle when he walked around the corner into the bright gold kitchen. The refrigerator and oven were the same pretty gold as the ones in his house, and the shiny floor under his feet was covered with stripes of brown, blue, and that same gold.

Instead of someone his mother’s age, Evan saw an old, old woman sitting at the kitchen table. He blinked and nearly tripped over his own feet.

“Well hello there!” The woman was beaming, her whole face lighting up in a smile Evan couldn’t help returning. Now that he could get a closer look, he saw she had gray hair like his own grandmother did, but her face looked smooth and young. Her eyes were bright, and as green and pretty as Mr. Fincastle's. “And who are these beautiful children?”

Mr. Fincastle turned away from the refrigerator with a bottle of what looked like orange juice. Evan hoped it was the same thing the astronauts drank instead. Mr. Fincastle was smiling, but he still looked sad.

“These are our neighbors, Gwen and Evan Griffith. They live just down the street. They’re going to visit with us for a little while.”

“Oh, I remember Evan now!” The woman held out her hands, and Gwen and Evan each took one. Her fingers were warm and smooth. “And it’s lovely to meet you, Gwen. I’m Mary Fincastle, and this is my son, Mike.”

Mr. Fincastle sat down with four glasses.

“I don’t think you’ve met Evan, Mom. Dad was still alive the last time… Anyway, I’m sure you remember Gwen. She’s been here before.”

Mary Fincastle tilted her head, looking so much like a curious dog that Evan had to fight back a giggle. No matter how he felt, he didn’t think laughing while his parents were yelling at each could possibly be a good thing.

“You do look familiar, Gwen,” she said, smiling again. “But Evan is here a lot. He’s just like part of the family.”

“He sure is,” Mr. Fincastle said. “They both are. Are you two hungry? I can make you a sandwich or something.”

“No, sir, not right now,” Gwen said, and Evan shook his head. “We just… Our Mom said we should come here.”

Her voice had that trembly sound, and Mr. Fincastle seemed as upset by it as Evan was.

“Don’t you worry, Gwen, not about one single thing. Want to come into the living room and watch television for a while? Time to change the channel anyway. I think we’ve all had about enough of Mr. Nixon lately. There has to be something better on.”

The shows were very good, and before long Evan’s eyes were trying to close all by themselves. He didn’t want to act like a big baby in front of grownups, but he was really sleepy. He was still young enough to need a nap, no matter what else was going on.

The next thing he knew, Mr. Fincastle was picking him up.

“I’m sorry…”

“Shhh, don’t be sorry for needing a nap. I could use one myself most days.”

Evan put his arms around Mr. Fincastle’s neck and laid his head against his shoulder. A nap really did sound good. He heard a woman’s voice, a younger woman than Mary Fincastle, but he couldn’t quite manage to open his eyes.

Mr. Fincastle put him down, and Evan felt something warm beside him. He turned toward that warmth and snuggled up close. The last thing he heard before he fell into real sleep was two adults laughing softly, and one baby girl breathing.

Her breath against Evan’s cheek smelled as sweet as flowers after the rain.