The Silent Sounds of Chaos Page 4

  “I’ll never forget,” was his quiet response, but it went unheard. Finn caught the leather jacket when it was tossed his way. He glanced down at it, then up at the man. “I ain’t wearing your clothes.”

  “If you’re gonna be a bad-ass, you better look the part.” With that, the man turned and walked out.

  Silence dominated the trailer after the sound of a revving engine finally faded down the street. Left without the buffer of a heavily muscled dealer, Finn risked a glance at his mom, relieved to see that she was passed out on the couch, drink tipped over on the floor.

  Shaking his head, he tiptoed to his room and shut the door, relieved to at least have one moment of privacy. He dragged a chair over to his makeshift dresser and stood on it, peering down at the jacket and debating with himself. He didn’t want to wear it, didn’t want to acknowledge what doing so would mean for him and his future. The jacket was dirty in more ways than one. And, yet, something called for him to slip it on, so he did, staring at himself in the cracked mirror. It was too big, the sleeves hanging past his hands and the rest of it all but engulfing his skinny frame, but in that moment, something inside Finn changed.

  He wasn’t going to do what his mother said anymore. He wasn’t going to sit outside in the sun while she brought home men. He wasn’t going to let her hit him without hitting her back.

  He was going to be a bad-ass.

  Snow peered through the open doorway of a newly decorated room, both amazed and horrified by what she saw—amazed by how pretty all the pinks and purples were of her bed and curtains and stuffed animals, horrified by what this new room meant for her.

  When her parents sat her down and explained that she and her sister Amelia were going to get their own rooms, that they would be sleeping separately each night but only just down the hall from one another, Snow hadn’t really let herself consider what that meant. She knew her old room had too much stuff in it, of course—her mommy always complained their toy chest was bursting at the seams—but it wasn’t until she was standing in the doorway of her new room that the truth sunk in.

  She would have to sleep alone for the first time ever.

  Years ago, when she was first adopted, the lady at the group home had told her she was getting a new sister, a real sister who would love her and want to be best friends. Snow wouldn’t have to share a big room with lots of other girls who didn’t like one another. No, now she was getting a friend, a whole family. What did it mean, then, that her sister didn’t want to live with her anymore?

  “Honey, what are you doing?”

  Snow jumped and instantly backed away from the door. She felt guilty, but wasn’t sure why, as her father knelt down to her level. “Just looking,” she whispered, pointing one small hand inside the room.

  Her father smiled. “What do you think of your new room? Did you like getting to pick all your new decorations?” When Snow only shrugged, he frowned. “What’s the matter, honey?”

  Taking in a deep breath, Snow looked over at her bed, her pretty white dresser with a music box and mermaid lamp, then back at her dad. “I think it is beautiful. But…”

  “But what?”

  “Do you and Mommy and Amelia still love me and want to live with me?” Her woeful blue eyes looked up at her father’s brown ones, their appearances completely opposite but concerned expressions matching.

  “Oh, honey.” He gathered her in his arms and offered her a tender embrace, one hand patting her back in a comforting way he’d done since the day they brought her home. Once Snow seemed appeased, he pulled back and looked at her, his expression serious. “Of course we love you and want to live with you. We love you and your sister both the same amount. You will always be our little girls and nothing will ever change that. You get your own room because you’re going to be a big girl someday, and you can have all this space just for you and your friends. Okay?”

  Snow sniffled and nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. Indeed, she knew this man was her daddy and that he loved her, but sometimes the words pet store still ran through her mind.

  Are you sad, Snow?

  Her face buried in her father’s arms, Snow smiled. Not anymore, she told Finn, happy to hear his voice, comforted by her father’s embrace. She told him about her new room, about her father’s assurance that she was still loved.

  Good for you.

  She heard the bitterness in his reply, wondered about it. Something had changed in Finn recently. She didn’t know what, but she could feel it, hear it in his words. Sometimes he was nice and funny and happy, other days he was almost mad. Never at her, just … at life, she surmised.

  Why are you moving rooms?

  So me and my sister will have lots of space for us and our friends.

  You have a sister?

  Snow frowned, sure she’d told Finn all about Amelia. Going over their conversations, she wondered how she could have forgotten to talk about her sister all these years, though deep down she guessed it was because she wanted her friend all for herself. If Finn knew about Amelia, he might want to talk to her too. Everyone loved talking to Amelia and being friends with her.

  Yeah … her name’s Amelia. She’s one year older. It dawned on her only after the admission that she’d just revealed her sister’s name, when she’d been so careful to avoid giving her own. But lots of people were named Amelia, and surely Finn wouldn’t be able to use one name to find out her real name.

  Not commenting on the little piece of truth, Finn asked, What’s she look like?

  With an internal shrug, Snow pictured her sister in her mind. I don’t know. Pretty. Her hair is pretty and dark and long and looks like Daddy’s. She’s really skinny ‘cause she is in dance class.

  Is she a good big sister?

  Yes. Snow loved her sister, as different as they were. She’s awesome. She doesn’t like to play dolls or dress-up or watch cartoons with me, but she’s still really fun.

  I bet you’re a good little sister.

  Snow smiled at Finn’s proclamation, no doubt made to make up for his earlier snap. I bet if your mom has more kids you’ll be a good big brother.

  Finn hesitated at the admission, then replied, Nope. I like to get into trouble.

  You have to stay away from trouble, Finn. You have to be good, so we can be friends.

  We’ll always be friends, he insisted, and Snow could almost feel the smile he wore. I get into trouble so you don’t have to, remember?

  She did remember. Finn had told her all kinds of stories about all kinds of trouble, fights he’d gotten into and arguments with grownups. While she’d laughed with him at the time, now the stories worried her, because she didn’t want to give Finn up if it meant being a good person.

  Snow? he asked after a few minutes had passed. You ever gonna tell me your real name?

  She thought about it before answering. Her parents had warned her about strangers and how important it was to never tell anyone she’d never met before her name or where she lived. The policemen could be trusted, and her teachers at school, and the people she knew were family members.

  But Finn was none of those things. He was a friend, her very best friend, but he was not on the list of people her parents approved of as “not strangers.” And, even though she desperately wanted to reveal herself to Finn, something held her back—a conversation she’d heard as a little girl that was never meant for her ears.

  She’d been playing in her room just after she was adopted, enjoying her new dolls and spending hours making them look beautiful in their fancy dresses and shoes. When she was finally sleepy and ready for bed, she’d crept to her new parents’ bedroom, about to knock, but the words escaping the cracked door made her pause.

  “This is dangerous,” her mother was saying. “These people are mad at you. They aren’t good people.”

  “I know,” her father had agreed. “But this is my job, honey. It’s my job to put these bad people away so they can’t hurt anyone else.”

  “But you are trusting t
he wrong people to give you information. What if they turn on you? You never know if it’s a trap.” A long moment of whispered words before her voice raised again. “We have children now. It’s not like when we were in our early twenties and the whole idea of justice and beating the bad guys was this grand dream. What if they try to retaliate? Come after us? They have threatened you before, and—”

  “We can’t let them win,” her daddy had cut in, softly but sternly. “They will always threaten us, because that’s what they do. They’re criminals. But I can’t stop doing what I do out of fear, and I have to get information where I can if it means putting other bad guys away for good. We can, and will, protect our children. They are smart. They know not to talk to strangers. We’ll do what we can to make sure they always know strangers can be dangerous.”

  At the time, and even now, Snow didn’t fully understand the entire conversation. But what she did understand was that someone, some stranger who was not a good person, might one day try to do something bad. She loved her parents and her house and her family, and didn’t want to go away with someone who wasn’t a good person. That fear stayed with her each and every day, wondering what would happen if she chose the wrong person to trust. No one could know her name unless her parents said it was okay.

  She finally answered Finn on a sigh, Maybe someday.

  But I want to know now. Maybe I’ll just tell you my real name and then you’ll have to tell me yours.

  Don’t. The single word was filled with urgency because she knew she’d have to do just that.

  Maybe I want to. Maybe I should just say it. My name is—

  STOP! So urgent and forceful was her reply that Snow jumped, causing her father to pull back with a concerned frown. Finn, if you tell me then I’m not talking to you anymore.

  “Is something wrong?” her father asked, at the same time Finn said sulkily, Fine. I’ll just be Finn then.

  Thank you. Satisfied, Snow looked up at her dad. “I’m okay. I … thought a bug was on me.”

  “Goofball.” Her father straightened and held out a hand. “Come on, princess, let’s go get some dinner!”

  Together they ran down the hall, Snow giggling when her father pretended to trip, letting her win the race to the kitchen table. Her giggles matched her sister’s as they both wrestled with their daddy and argued over who got the most chocolate milk, their mother glancing over her shoulder every so often with a smile on her face.

  “Dinnertime!” her mother said, picking up a casserole dish and placing it in the center of the table. At the same time, her father set down plates and piled them high with lasagna. Snow wasted no time digging in to her favorite meal, doing her best not to get sauce all over herself and the tablecloth.

  “So,” her dad said after a few minutes of eating. “Rumor has it someone at this table has a birthday coming up.” Snow’s ears perked up at that. “It wouldn’t be a certain little girl turning eleven years old, would it?”

  “Yes!” she cried with a grin. “I will be!”

  Her mom laughed. “What would you like to do for your birthday? We can go to your favorite restaurant and a movie, or maybe have a party and invite all of your friends.”

  “Princess party!” Snow cried again, sending a wide grin over to Amelia when she made a gagging sound. Her sister didn’t like girly stuff, preferring sports over dolls and blues over pinks, but a princess party sounded thrilling to Snow, especially since she finally had friends at school who didn’t make fun of her for being adopted.

  “A princess party sounds just perfect,” her father agreed. “Balloons, maybe a piñata, a big cake, and oh the presents! We can’t forget those!”

  “Presents!” Snow echoed, stabbing a bite of lasagna. “Can I invite Finn?” she asked before shoving the pasta in her mouth. So consumed in the food, she didn’t notice the quick look of concern her mother shot her dad.

  “Finn?” her mom repeated after a pause. “You still talk to Finn?”

  Feeling as though she’d done something wrong, Snow dropped her hands to her lap and looked down. The weight of her parents’ stares bore down on her, flooding her with worry. “I’m sorry,” she said, not sure why, but feeling that was the right thing to say. “Am I not supposed to be friends with him?”

  “It’s just fine that you are friends,” her dad said before her mom could reply. His eyes held a message Snow couldn’t read, but wasn’t meant for her anyway. “But Finn hasn’t told you any more mean things to say, right?”

  “No,” Snow promised. “We just talk about regular stuff. I told him about my new room. He told me about his mom and how she’s not very nice to him.”

  Her mom shifted in her seat, catching her husband’s quick head shake across the table. “And where do you talk to Finn, sweetie?”

  Snow pointed to her forehead. “In my mind.”

  “Do you … do you ever see him?”

  “Like in person?” Snow’s face scrunched up as she thought. “Nope, only in my head. I don’t know what he looks like or what his real name is.”

  When her parents didn’t answer, instead simply smiling over at her, Snow went back to her lasagna, but couldn’t stop feeling like she’d done something wrong.

  THE NEXT MORNING, Snow made her way downstairs to the living room, eager to watch her favorite Saturday movie before her parents made her go grocery shopping with them, and other weekend chores she found boring. After finding the DVD she wanted and putting it in the player like her daddy showed her to, she snuggled up on the couch with a soft pillow and even softer blanket.

  Halfway into the movie, the doorbell rang. Snow ignored it, as well as her mother greeting their company, attention entirely transfixed on the princess dancing with animals on the screen. She stirred only when footsteps sounded next to the couch. Glancing behind her, Snow saw her mom with a lady who looked a lot younger. Both were smiling.

  “Honey, this is Miss Jenn. Come say hi?”

  Barely turning her eyes away from the TV, Snow offered a quick greeting over her shoulder. “Hi.”

  “I’m going to get us something to drink,” her mom said, seemingly irritated by her daughter’s flippant response. “Have a seat, Miss Jenn.”

  Miss Jenn entered the room, taking a seat on the couch, next to where Snow rested. A bit curious now, Snow glanced over, interested to see that the other lady was not only younger than her mom, but also wore a lot more makeup and dressed much differently. Her mom was gentle and soft and wore colors like the earth. This new lady had bright-red hair cut short around her face and dark-brown eyes surrounded by thin lines of black and smudges of blue that made her look a little sparkly. Her face was lightly freckled and friendly, as cheerful as the light-blue dress she wore that floated around her knees like a cloud.

  Snow liked her instantly.

  “What are you watching?” Miss Jenn asked with a smile.

  “Snow White,” Snow replied absently, looking back at the TV. “Mommy and Daddy bought me the movie when I came to live with them ‘cause it’s my favorite.”

  “That was nice of them. I used to watch Snow White all the time when I was your age,” Miss Jess replied, shifting so she was half facing Snow. “Do you mind if I watch with you?”

  “Kay.” Snow offered her a blanket, which Miss Jenn accepted, laying it across her lap. They both turned back to the movie, watching in silence together.

  Snow had almost forgotten the lady was there when she asked, “Doesn’t Amelia want to watch the movie?”

  “She doesn’t like cartoon movies. She watches boy shows and doesn’t like the same things I do.”

  “That’s too bad,” Miss Jenn mused. “Do you ever get to watch Snow White with your friends?”

  “I watch and tell Finn about it sometimes.” The answer escaped before she realized she might have said something wrong. But Miss Jenn only smiled again.

  “That’s nice. Everyone should have friends to watch movies with, right?” When Snow nodded, the older woman continued, “Does F
inn go to your school?”

  Snow hesitated, worry creeping into her mind ‒‒ and that hesitation was all the boy on the other end of her thoughts needed.

  What’s wrong?

  Snow felt herself retreat into her mind, soothed by Finn’s question, by the fact that he could sense her discomfort. Though they hadn’t learned to recognize the good feelings and times of happiness, it was enough that they could find one another when a friend was truly needed.

  There’s a lady here who asked me about you, she answered Finn.

  Who is she?

  I don’t know. Mommy’s friend. Snow chewed on her bottom lip as Miss Jenn looked down at her with a soft expression, saying her name twice before the child finally glanced up.

  “Is Finn a boy from your school, maybe in your class?” she repeated. “Has he ever come over to your house to play or watch movies?”

  She wants to know if you’re from my school and if you ever come over, she told Finn.

  The words Don’t tell her nothing! rang through her head just as Miss Jenn asked, “Are you okay, sweetie?” Finn said something else, but his protests were drowned out by Miss Jenn. “Are you talking to him right now?”

  She asked if I’m talking to you right now.

  Tell her no.

  But that’s a lie. She heard Finn sigh in her head, but he didn’t say anything else. Finn? Finn?

  “Sweetie, are you talking to him right now?”

  Snow frowned and shook her head. “No,” she answered honestly, wondering if he’d left so she wouldn’t have to lie. She really wasn’t talking to him, but she could feel him inside her mind, her heart, waiting until he could come back out and talk.

  “Who is Finn?”

  “Just … a boy in a movie I saw.” That much was true.

  “Do you like pretending Finn is your friend?”

  She wasn’t pretending, but didn’t want this new person to know that. So instead Snow replied, “I guess.”

  “Why do you like to pretend talk to Finn?”