The Silent Sounds of Chaos Page 3

  So? After a hesitation, he continued, Fine, no punching. But you should at least say something to him so he knows he can’t be mean to you.

  Like what?

  She listened carefully, eyes widening at the response she never would have thought to say on her own. The comeback was so mean, sure to hurt anyone’s feelings. It would certainly hurt hers. When he was finished he ordered her to go say it to Davey. It took some goading, but she finally picked herself up off the ground at Finn’s urging and marched back to the playground, spurred on by a sudden burst of courage she guessed came from her friend—though she didn’t take the time to marvel at how she could feel what he felt.

  Back at the playground, Davey and a four others were standing in a crowd, laughing at something. Or someone. Their laughter stopped when she approached. Davey stepped to the front of the group and crossed his arms. “What do you want, pet shop?”

  Look tough.

  Snow squared her shoulders at Finn’s command. Then paused, suddenly unsure of what she was about to do.

  Say it, Snow. Be brave and say it. Don’t be jealous.

  Biting back a sigh, Snow said firmly, “Don’t be jealous.”

  Davey frowned and looked around before asking, “Jealous of what, you freak?”

  Cross your arms and say it.

  She did what she was told. “That my parents picked me because they knew I was the best. Your parents are stuck with you.”

  The frown turned to a sneer as Davey slid a step closer and went nose to nose with Snow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Your parents can’t even give you away. No one—

  “—would even want a loser and a stupid kid like you,” Snow finished, speaking the words at the same time Finn repeated them in her head. “I feel sorry for them. Everyone feels sorry for them. You just don’t know it.”

  For a moment the playground fell silent, everyone watching the two at the center of the commotion, one with his hands curled into fists and the other fighting to keep her knees from shaking. After a tense moment, Davey took a step back and lowered his head, but not before Snow saw the threat of tears in his eyes. The boy stalked away, yelling at his friends to get away from him, and she watched him leave.

  Did it work?

  Snow nodded. Yeah. I think he was crying.

  Good. He deserved it.

  She wasn’t so sure. She didn’t like hurting his feelings, even if he’d done the same to her. That wasn’t what a princess would do.

  Four hours later Snow sat at the kitchen table, both her parents seated across from her. She could tell by the stern looks on their faces that they were angry with her, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. She hadn’t done anything bad lately. All her clothes were folded and put away, her dishes washed after every meal. Certainly she couldn’t have done something wrong already.

  “We got a call from the school,” her mom said, looking at Snow expectantly. Her stomach dropped as she now knew what this was about. “You said something that wasn’t very nice to a little boy, didn’t you?” Snow swallowed hard and nodded. She could have lied, but that would be wrong, and she really wanted her new parents to like her. “What did you say?”

  Meekly, she repeated the words, her eyes on the table. After she was finished she thought about how cruel they were and wondered why she was so easily convinced to say them. She wanted to blame it on Finn, but deep in her heart knew it was her own choice.

  “Why would you say something like that?” her father asked.

  “Because he said I came from the pet store or maybe the dumpster.” The tears came before she could stop them, this time not afraid to let other people see her cry. Through the burry vision she didn’t see the way their faces softened, but she did feel her mom’s arms wrap around her as she was pulled into her lap.

  “Sweetie, you know that’s not true,” her mother soothed, one hand stroking her hair. “You are our daughter and we love you no matter what. Never let anyone tell you differently, okay?” When Snow nodded, her mom wiped the tears from her cheeks. “But in this family we have manners, and we don’t talk meanly to people no matter how mean they are to us first. Now, who told you to say something like that to Davey? I know my sweet little girl wouldn’t do that alone.”

  Snow fell silent, refusing to get her friend into trouble.

  “Did one of your friends at school tell you to say that?” her mom continued, still hugging Snow, who shook her head. “What about Amelia?” Another shake of the little girl’s head.

  “Did Finn tell you?” her father asked from the other side of the table. Though Snow didn’t respond or move, her parents knew the truth by her refusal to confirm or deny. “Well, if he did, it sounds like Finn isn’t very nice.”

  “He is!” she insisted, spinning around to face her father. Her eyes were wide with the fear of her parents not liking her friend. “I was sad and I wished he was with me so I could have a friend. Finn didn’t want me to be sad and he wanted to stop all the kids from being mean to me. He just wanted me to be brave.”

  “Being brave isn’t the same as being cruel, honey,” her mom put in. “Sometimes being brave means letting go, even when that’s the hardest thing to do. There will always be people who say things that aren’t nice, but you can’t stoop to their level. You have to hold your head high and let things like that go. Otherwise you say bad things back, and then you are just as bad as them. Do you understand?”

  She didn’t, but chose not to say so. It didn’t make sense to let go of people being mean, but, Snow considered, she didn’t like how it made her feel to say those things back anyway. It wasn’t princess-like.

  “Now,” her new mommy repositioned Snow on her lap so they were face to face, “no more unkind things. You can’t talk to Finn if he’s going to tell you to be bad, got it?”

  Snow nodded stoically, then hugged her parents when they finally smiled. She didn’t want to upset them, because, deep down, she really was afraid they’d return her to the pet store everyone thought she came from. All she ever wanted was a family who loved her, and now that she had one, she’d do anything to keep them.

  MOMMY SAYS I can’t talk to you if you make me do mean things.

  Snow curled up in bed that night, arms wrapped around a stuffed dog as she closed her eyes and imagined Finn in her head. She didn’t know what he looked like, so for fun she imagined herself with really short hair and dirty cheeks and boy clothes. The image made her giggle.

  His reply came almost instantly. I don’t want to stop talking to you.

  It made her happy to have a friend who wanted to talk to her even if she was so different from him. Then I can’t be mean. I have to be nice to people, even if they say things that hurt my feelings.

  That’s stupid.

  Snow giggled, but then sobered almost instantly. Even if she agreed she couldn’t say so. It’s not stupid. It’s nice. I want to be a nice person.

  Fine, no more mean things. She could swear she heard him sigh. If someone hurts your feelings, just tell me. You can be nice and I’ll be mean enough for both of us.

  She didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded like a fair enough alternative if it meant she could keep talking to Finn. Deal.

  FINN SAT ON the front step of his trailer, leg bouncing as he stared out at the patch of brown grass that served as a front yard. He wanted to run all over it. He wanted to dig holes. He kind of wanted to throw up in the broken flower pot next to where he sat.

  Sitting on pins and needles, it was all he could do to contain himself to this little stoop beneath the blistering summer sun. He really wanted to go inside and get the basketball he’d left in his room, but knew he had to wait until the noises coming from the living room stopped. To keep himself as busy as possible he’d started carving a piece of bark into the shape of a lady using a rusty pocketknife one of his mom’s “friends” had lost in their couch. He wasn’t a good artist, but after a while his animated fingers carved something that looked vaguely l
ike a person.

  He’d found one of the bottles his mom had hidden in the back shed and downed a good chunk of the clear liquid, curious as to why she was always drinking it. Though he found the taste bitter, he couldn’t deny how awesome he felt in this moment. Full of energy, bursting at the seams to go and do something super fun, and yet, kind of like the whole world was swimming in front of his eyes and only a long nap could make it all go back to normal. Concentrating on the fuzzy air made it easier to block out the sounds he’d long ago learned never led to anything good for him.

  You feel weird.

  Snow’s voice popped into his mind. Finn smiled, his bouncing transforming to a kind of side-to-side action on the step. It didn’t surprise him that Snow would show up. Over the past few years they’d learned to control it, whatever it was, able to call on one another whenever a conversation was desired. They’d even started to feel what the other felt during times of fear, anger, or excitement. The feelings were usually a bit subdued on the other end, but they were strong enough to help them through any situation, knowing their mystery friend was by their side, wherever they were somewhere in the world.

  They still didn’t know each other’s real names, where the other person lived—it was exciting, in a way, kind of like they were superheroes waiting for their chance to save the person who had become their best, mystery friend. Sometimes they ignored the feelings swarming throughout them, other times their thoughts still crept in during times of need, and the pair had come to accept casual comments whispered in their minds here and there.

  Finn liked that she was always there. A constant friend, someone who kept him feeling light and happy and never alone.

  Can’t sit still, he answered, wondering if his voice sounded as jittery as his heart felt. Got to move. Got to play.

  She was quiet before asking, Are you full of … finnergy?

  Finn paused, his bones nearly quaking in the stillness as he thought over her question. Then he burst into giggles, hearing her laughter echoing his own. Finnergy! He repeated the word over and over in his mind until they both were gasping for air, Finn nearly falling off the step as he clutched at his sides.

  It had been a long, long time since he laughed. He’d almost forgotten how amazing it felt to be so happy and carefree.

  The moment was interrupted by a sharp shout. Finn jumped when a voice called to him from the street. He’d been so caught up in the laughter over a silly word that he hadn’t noticed the sleek black car coming to a stop in front of his home. He peered across the yard at the car, one he’d heard described before as a “rich bitch” car by his mom.

  “Hi there, son,” the passenger called again. She was an older lady with gray-blonde hair and big sunglasses covering most of her face.

  Some weird lady is here and wants to talk to me. Finn quickly composed himself, telling Snow to wait while he assessed the situation. He knew what strangers in the neighborhood meant. Strangers weren’t welcome, and this particular stranger angered Finn for ruining his happy moment with Snow.

  Her hand lifted, gesturing for him to approach the car. Unsure, Finn glanced back at the door then over to the car, figuring his mother wouldn’t appreciate him barging in just yet, so he had a few more minutes to spare. He sauntered over until he was mere inches away, hands in his pockets gripping his carving and knife. “Sup?”

  The lady removed her sunglasses. Her eyes were a bright green, friendly and searching his face for something he couldn’t identify. Finn saw the lines around them when she smiled. Next to her was a man probably just as old as she was, with all-gray hair and wearing a nice suit. The man didn’t look quiet as friendly, even though he tried, but there was a sternness to him Finn didn’t like.

  “We were hoping to track down our daughter and grandson. Where can we find Annette?” the older woman asked.

  Finn nodded, suddenly tired as the effects of his mystery drink began to wear off. “Yeah. I know the lady. Got a green trailer with a flag on it.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes as a thought occurred to him. “She’s got a lot of problems. She ain’t a nice lady, but ain’t her fault people keep giving her all those things to smoke. You got a nice car. How come you got all this money and don’t help out a lady that’s your daughter?”

  If his question offended the pair, they didn’t show it. Instead, the woman merely smiled sadly and placed a hand on the open windowsill. The gesture made the boy take a step back. “Well, young man, sometimes people don’t want help, or are too proud to accept it when it’s offered. And some people don’t realize when help is right in front of them.” At his frown, she reached out and bopped him on the nose. “You’ll understand one day.”

  Finn shrugged, then glanced over his shoulder when a scream pierced the air. He sighed, embarrassed by what he knew was happening inside his home. The whole neighborhood knew, as he was so often reminded. Just thinking about the shame she’d caused him over the years exhausted him.

  “Are you okay here, son?” the man finally spoke, looking over his wife at the boy standing forlornly on the dead grass.

  His back straightened at that even as he fought a yawn. “I’m fine,” Finn replied tersely.

  “You’d tell us if you needed help, right?”

  Finn clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes. “Why would I tell you people? I take care of myself.”

  The older lady only smiled a sad smile and handed him something. Hoping it was money, Finn snatched it from her hand, a little annoyed it was just a business card. “What do I need this for?”

  “Whenever you need us, you call us, okay?”

  He eyed the card, confused. “Why would you help me? I ain’t your son, lady.”

  “You don’t have to be blood to show someone kindness, young man.”

  For a reason, the response unnerved him. He didn’t like people acting like he couldn’t take care of himself, like he was just some dumb kid with a mom who made those screaming sounds all times of the day and night. “I don’t need no help,” Finn spat out, then turned on his heel and stomped back to the front step, watching out of the corner of his eye as the car slowly pulled away, all merriment from his conversation with Snow having faded away.

  Three hours later, sweat soaked from the heat and crashing from his bout of finnergy, Finn quietly crept inside the trailer. He was hoping to sneak into his room and get his ball, maybe even stay for a nap while he was there, and get out without having to suffer through any conversation.

  Those hopes were dashed when he saw his mother and a strange man draped on the couch. A blanket covered the man’s lower half, while his mom wore only a bra and underwear. Both held a drink in one hand and cigarette in the other.

  It took only a second for Finn to identify the man. He’d seen him several times over the years, been pushed around by him more than once in the past as he’d stalked out of his mother’s room and to the front door. Just another dealer looking for payment, one way or another.

  Rolling his eyes, Finn made to move past the couch, inwardly sighing when both stirred at his presence.

  “The hell you want, boy?” his mom rasped out, eyes glassy, hair a mess in a bun on the top of her head.

  “My ball. I was waiting outside ‘til you were done.” The disgust was clear in his tone.

  “Then what the hell you doing in here?” Biting back a sigh, Finn merely continued toward his room, stumbling over tears in the carpet. He stopped when he felt a hand on his arm. “I tell you you could leave? You been in my drinks?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you lie to me!”

  Finn grit his teeth together when a hand slapped across his cheek, but held his ground. This wasn’t the first time she’d hit him and he knew it wouldn’t be the last, but he wasn’t going to run away. Instead he stared her straight in the eye, a silent challenge to do it again. In fact, he even took a step closer, just to see what she would do. He didn’t used to be so brave, but he had more strength in him now. Snow’s presence gave him that s
trength, that courage, a constant reminder that he was never alone. Besides, he always told Snow she had to be brave, even if she couldn’t be mean.

  Who was he to tell her to be brave, if he wasn’t always brave himself?

  Their glare was broken by the man’s abrupt laughter. “I like this kid,” he said with a gesture at Finn. “Kid’s got balls. Give ‘em a few years to really toughen up and he’ll have himself the run of town. Assuming he don’t grow up to be a punk.”

  “Shut up.” The words escaped Finn’s mouth before he realized what he was saying. Fear crept in at his mother’s gasp, the way the man’s lips pressed into a thin line and a muscle worked along his jaw as he sat up and leaned closer. His hulking shoulders and wide arms looked even more menacing when paired with the glower etched across his chiseled face.

  “The fuck did you just say to me?”

  His heart thudded against his chest worse than the feel of those clear-liquid drinks, but still he held his ground. “I said shut up. You’re just another loser she brought home.” His head cocked in his mother’s direction, though his eyes remained on the man. “She don’t care about you and you don’t care about her. So you don’t get to talk to me.”

  The man eyed the boy carefully before his scowl broke into a grin. But it wasn’t a proud or happy grin. This one was calculating, sneaky. He rose slowly, noting the way Finn averted his eyes when the blanket fell.

  “What’s the matter, punk? Jealous?”

  “No,” the boy sneered back. It wasn’t the first time he saw one of his mom’s men fully naked. It wasn’t even the first time he’d seen this particular man without pants. Such was the way of life in his mother’s smoke-stained trailer. “No reason to be jealous.”

  Barking out a chuckle, the man dressed in a pair of faded jeans with a wide leather belt and a blue button-down shirt that, surprisingly, was in decent condition. He picked up a leather jacket. “You got balls, kid,” he said to Finn. “I like that. Keep it up, and come see me at the club in a few years. We could use a kid like you. Joe, remember the name.”