Second Hand

It all started in July 1998 in a quiet neighborhood of San Bernardino California where I, Jim Brown lived with my parents Judy and Timothy Brown. Most of the neighbors were out for a vacation to Europe, India, China, and one of those exotic places. My dad was a lawyer, and mom worked in a hospital as a nurse. They both were very busy and never had time for me. I had no friends either. I was a lanky and pale thin guy with glasses at the age of 9. It's my luck I don't have an allergy of old dusty books. My only friends were Roald Dahl, Enid Blyton, Mark Twain, and my new friend J.K Rowling. I tossed and turned in my bed in his two-story modest home. My bladder signaled me I needed to go to the bathroom.

I held my G.I Joe doll tight and rushed to the bathroom. While doing my business I saw Mrs. Jones's living room light was on. Mrs. Jones, a seventy old widower lived with her cat who she lost two yrs. ago but still has no idea. She has Alzheimer's. Her daughter lived in the next town and filled her grocery and cleaned her house once in two weeks. I saw the time. It was 1am in the night.Why will Mrs. jones be awake at this time?I mumbled. I saw two shadowed figures move. My heart started beating fast. Is there a robbery in her house? I questioned myself and rushed to my parent's room and tried to call them. I made such a ruckus that dad and mom woke up with a startle. They saw the flashlight in Mrs. Jones's bedroom. Mom called the police. I ran downstairs to have a better look from our kitchen the house is pretty close to each other from the kitchen. The police came tearing through the silence of the night and the flashlights stopped dancing. I heard a commotion in Mrs. jones house and the kitchen glass broke and two dark figures come out of the house but the police nabbed them before they can run. It was an exciting night! All this happened while Mrs. Jones slept like a log. Mom said she takes sleeping medication so she didn’t understand a thing.

The morning came bearing a lot of accolades and gifts for me. I became a neighborhood hero. My parents were happy and proud. Mrs. Jones called us for afternoon tea. The house was in a mess but Mrs. Jones was assured by the police that nothing was taken only the kitchen window glass was broken and maybe they entered from there. Mysterious, I thought. I saw that the window glass was broken to go out and not in then how did the thieves get in?

The tea was undrinkable but the cookies were good. I excused myself and went in search of the bathroom. On my way, I crossed the basement door and thought I heard someone crying inside. My heart beat faster. I looked in the direction of the sitting room from where came muffled voices of my parents and Mrs. Jones. Should I tell them or see inside myself? What if there is a pixie or a fairy inside? What else can come inside the house without breaking the window? 

Grown-ups don't believe in fairies or magic. I felt like Roald Dahl is reciting the lines from his book Billy and the min pins to me in a hushed voice-

"And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it." He recited

I said "yes sir" to Roald Dahl and slowly crept down to the basement.

I tried to be as quiet as a snake and slithered my way down but the old house did make a creaking noise just as I reached the basement causing a small shadow figure to hide behind an old washer. I was afraid. It's ok Jim I said to myself, you caught the thieves. You are a hero.

I took my steps carefully and saw a small boy around the age of five with a mane of grizzled hair, blue eyes, and a round face. He stood there with teary eyes, running nose, and ragged clothes. He looked like he didn't eat or took a bath for days. I broke the silence and whispered, " who are you, little boy? What are you doing in Mrs. Jones's basement.?”

“I... I am Matthew Roberts sir. I came with big Mike and A J. The thieves”. He stammered wiping his tears.

I gasped and put my hand on my mouth. “You are a thief too. “I asked astonished.

“They made me run from foster care with them sir and made me steal. I got inside this home from the pet door and opened the door for them. The police came suddenly and I got afraid so I hid here. I don't want to steal. My father before dying told me stealing is not a good thing.” He sputtered the words between his sobs.

My heart was pained. Such a small boy. He must have had a house and parents and lifelike mine but all have vanished. “What will you do now? I asked foolishly

“I don't know, sir. I don't want to steal again, I don't want to go to foster care. Maybe this lady will keep me I can work for her” he asked me with expectant eyes.

My Father's voice called for me I panicked. Mrs. Jones can't take care of a cat. How will she look after a kid? They will send him back to foster care. I think that is a bad idea. I said firmly. I have to go now. Don't move from the basement stay here. I will think someway and come to get you tonight

“I have not eaten from yesterday,” he said softly.

My father called my name again. I quickly scooped out a chocolate bar from my pocket that Mrs. Jones gave me. Eat this for now. Don't steal food from Mrs. Jones's kitchen, she keeps expired stuff. You will have food poisoning. I ran upstairs.

The boy called. “Sir will you come to get me,” I whispered yes and ran upstairs. I met my father in the hallway he was marching towards the bathroom to get me. “Oh, there you are young fella. Where have you been? We were about to send a search party” he said jokingly.

“I just got lost in my way back, “I said. He looked confused but didn't say anything we said our goodbyes to Mrs. Jones and went back to my house.

I felt restless. I have to come up with a plan and quickly but what? My eight yrs. old brain can't think anymore. I so wished I had a bunch of siblings like Joe and Bessy from ‘The Enchanted Wood ‘Novel by Enid Blyton. Whatever it takes, I have to rescue him from that rat-infested basement and the forgetful old lady Mrs. Jones. Maybe that boy will be my brother and mom and dad will never know. We will grow up and go to college together. It will be a wonderful life.

After dinner, I went to my room. I had managed to take the house keys. Night came and I sneaked from my own house with a flashlight to Mrs. Jones's house from the pet door and tiptoed my way to the basement. I quickly came in the basement and slowly whispered “Matthew, Mathew” there was no response. I called again, there was no response. Did he run away? I thought. Disappointed I turned to leave but then just absent-mindedly I lifted the ragged blanket from the table and oh, there he was! Little boys can't be awake for so late in the night. I thought He went to sleep. I touched his chest that was rising up and down and tried to wake him up slowly. He opened his sleepy eyes gave the biggest and friendliest smile I ever saw in my life and said hugging me tight “you came back, you came back!”. I was delighted by this affection. We sneaked in my house and tiptoed upstairs to my room. And that is how I met my best friend and brother Matthew.

After that day I spent three yrs with brotherly love and fun. Mathew said that a car crash killed his parents and brother while he was at a birthday party. I hid him in my closet whenever my parents came into my room and enrolled him for homeschooling giving Mrs. Jones’s address. Mrs. Jones’s letterbox was near ours. Once I took her keys from her bag and made a spare key, so we got all the letters sent from the school and our life was spectacular. Matthew got my books and clothes. One day I collapsed in my room and that is when he came out of the room for help.

In my half conscious state I saw the horror in my parents face when Matthew explained that he is living with me for three years. He held my hand when they escorted me to the hospital. He held my hand day and night when I was in coma. He never left my side but it was time for me I have to leave his side now.

Today when I breathe my last in a hospital room as cancer has captured my body completely. I looked at my brother; he has grown up a lot from the day I first saw him. We have spent three golden years in my room for three years until my mother discovered him. I pursuaded them everyday from my hospital bed and they adopted him. Yesterday the social worker came and told me that it is not far from the day that Mathew will be my official brother and my parents legal son. I am relieved. I am not sad anymore. I can die in peace.Mathew had always used all my things his whole life he spent with us I don’t know if he was happy with the second-hand things. Today as I leave my parents, I give them a son and a second-hand life to Mathew. I take my last breath and question God, did he send Matthew to me so that he can be a second hand son to my parents? Did he come to us to get a second hand life?