Bad for You by Weston Parker
29
TRISTIN
Lou’s house was small and shabby, situated on the outskirts of a rough neighborhood. People loitered on the street corners, staring at my car as we drove by with narrowed eyes and rigid postures. It was the kind of place where the sound of gunshots was common and gangs ruled with an iron fist.
There was no grass left on the front lawn of the house, and the garden around the sides was so overgrown that only the façade from the street was visible at all. Large patches on the walls no longer had any paint on them, and the frame of the house looked so rickety that I wasn’t sure it would be able to withstand a light breeze, never mind a strong wind.
The door hung open, but there didn’t seem to be any movement inside the house. A sense of unease made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Brittany was right. There was something bad going on here, and it wasn’t just because of the state of the house or the neighborhood it was in.
After I parked, we climbed out of the car in complete silence. Somewhere between the school and here, Lou had gone completely pale. His eyes were downcast, his entire body seemingly slumped in on itself.
“I’m going to see if I can have a chat with his mom,” Brittany said quietly but trying to be upbeat for Lou’s sake. “Do you think she’s home?”
“She’ll be here,” he mumbled, his voice tight and tainted by shame. “I don’t know if she’ll be able to talk, though.”
It became clear what he meant the minute a half-dressed figure appeared in the open door. She had the same bright red hair and freckles that Lou did, so I assumed she was his mother, but if she was, I understood why we wouldn’t be able to talk to her.
We weren’t even on their porch yet, but I could already see how glassy and unfocused her eyes were. Her hair was so tangled around her head that it looked like one solid carpet instead of thousands of different strands. She was swaying so badly that she held on to the door in order to stay on her feet, and her clothes were covered in substances that I didn’t even want to begin to identify.
“Lou!” she yelled, squinting her eyes as she yanked at the shiny bathrobe she was wearing over her clothes. “Where have you been? You’re late.”
At least, that was what I thought she said. She was slurring so badly that it was almost impossible to be sure.
When we got close enough, the scent of alcohol hit my nostrils at the same time that I noticed how blown her pupils were. The woman was sixteen sheets to the wind, but I had a suspicion alcohol wasn’t the only substance flowing through her bloodstream.
“You need to clean the bathroom, and don’t tell me you’re hungry. That school feeds you.” Scowling when her hazy gaze shifted and she noticed us for the first time, she made to plant a hand on her hip but ended up stumbling into the door beside her. “Who’re you?”
“I’m Brittany Cleaver, Ms. Thurston,” she said gently. “Lou’s teacher. We’ve met a few times.”
There was absolutely no recognition in the woman’s glazed-over eyes, but that didn’t seem to matter. “Yeah? What’re you doing here? You’re overstepping your bounds.”
“She’s just a teacher who cares about your son, ma’am,” I said, putting myself between the women.
Lou’s mother had turned red and looked like she was about to take a swing at Brittany. I knew my girl could handle herself, but I’d be damned if I didn’t stand up for her when I was right here.
“There’s something going on with your son, and we’re worried,” I said. “Brittany’s just trying to help, ma’am. That’s why she’s here.”
Ms. Thurston started laughing, but the sound was more manic than humorous. The laughter ended when she broke into a coughing fit. Her bony hand disappeared off to the side somewhere, and when it came back, she held a joint between her fingers.
It was still half-lit, a thin plume of smoke rising lazily into the air as she brought it to her mouth and took a deep drag. Her state and the distinctive sweet scent permeating the air made more sense now. She coughed some more, hacking up what sounded like a whole lung before she focused on us again.
“That boy is worthless. He’s always late. He doesn’t do anything around the house, and he’s constantly hungry.” She took another drag of the joint and blew the smoke directly into Brittany’s face when she breathed it out. “If she cares about him so much, she should take him.”
Lou sniffled beside me, and when I glanced down at him, there were tears flowing down his cheeks even as he stomped his foot and glared up at his mother. “I’m leaving. I know I’m not wanted here, and I don’t know why I keep coming back.”
He stormed past his mother into the tiny space. Brittany moved to the window next to the door immediately, speaking to him through the grime-covered panel as she tried to talk him out of it.
“She didn’t mean it, Lou. Of course you’re wanted. You’re her baby boy, and she loves you very much.”
The woman snorted, not even trying to keep her voice down. “I’ve never loved him. I didn’t want him then, and I don’t want him now. His father made me have him, and then he fuckin’ left me with the little monster. Can you believe it?”
Trusting Brittany to keep talking to Lou, I focused on the mother instead. “If it’s a matter of money, I can help get you treatment, ma’am. We can get you cleaned up, and then I’ll help you find a stable job. Don’t keep hurting him, okay? You don’t need to say these things you don’t mean just to drive him or us away. We can help. I’ll give you whatever you want—”
“Whatever I want?” Her expression changed, turning lascivious as she draped her half-dressed body all over me. “If you can come on to me, I can come on to you right back. Let me tell me you what, pretty boy. You want to be my baby’s new daddy, you’re going to have to give his mommy some love.”
Lou came crashing past us, tearing out of the house and running down the street with a small duffel bag and his backpack from school still on his back. Brittany yelled in panic and alarm when a car came screeching around the corner.
I detangled myself from his mother and ran out with Brittany hot on my heels. When I caught up to him, he tried shaking me off, but I held him close, rubbing his back and speaking to him softly. He stopped fighting me, breaking into sobs that racked his little body as he clung to me as if for dear life.
“Maybe you should stay with Brittany for a while,” I said after an age when his tears finally started subsiding. “Just until we figure out your next move.”
“Can I do that?” he asked, his voice shaking almost as much as his body. “Can you take me with you? Won’t you get in trouble?”
“I can do anything I want, but we could get in trouble if we don’t do it the right way.” I glanced at Brittany, who gave me a small nod. Good, so she was on board with this new plan. Now I just had to figure out a way of making it work. “Give me a minute, Lou. I’ll be back.”
“I’ve got him,” Brittany said, walking him back to my car.
Ms. Thurston was still swaying in her doorway, watching the scene play out with complete disinterest and maybe even boredom on her face. “I told you he was worthless. If you want the brat, take him. I sure as fuck don’t want him.”
I searched her eyes for any sign that she was lying or putting on a show, but I didn’t find anything. Mind racing, I pulled my phone out and switched it to video.
“I’m going to record this conversation,” I said as I held the camera out to the side with one hand. Not even that seemed to snap her out of her stupor. “You’ve just said more than once that you don’t want Lou, am I right?”
She flipped the camera off and then nodded. “He’s a piece of shit that I never should’ve brought into this world. I’m glad he’s finally packed his crap. I need that space he’s been camping out in.”
“Do Brittany Cleaver and I have your permission to take him with us this afternoon?” I asked, knowing that she was so drunk that nothing she said would be taken seriously later, but I wanted to cover our asses in the event that she tried to claim we’d stolen the boy or something.
“Take him,” she spat, rolling her eyes. “I couldn’t care less. If you give me a thousand bucks, you can keep him forever. I’ll even throw in his bicycle.”
“You’re offering me your child for one thousand dollars?” I couldn’t fucking believe this was happening. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” She crossed her arms, then almost fell over again because she wasn’t holding on to something any longer. “You know what? Just take him. Forget about the money. I know you won’t want to keep him forever anyway. You’ll only want me to give your cash back to you later.”
With that, she took a step back and slammed the door in my face. It bounced right back, knocking her down on her ass on the armchair beside her, and I heard her cackling with laughter as she fell down on it.
I had some issues with my own mother, I couldn’t deny that, but this was fucking insane. Insane, disgusting, and despicable. Becoming the legal guardian of an eight-year-old hadn’t been on my agenda for today, but plans changed, and witnessing what I just had had changed mine.
While I had no idea what it would take or if it would even be in Lou’s best interests to remove him legally from his mother’s care, I was going to bat for this boy. Work to find out what would be best for him and act accordingly. No child deserved to hear their mother say shit like that, and if no one else would fight for him, I would. Brittany would too.
We would figure this out. Keep him safe until we did. There was no other choice. But I needed to make a couple of calls, and I needed privacy to do it.
