Big Brother

The light from behind him lightly caressed her face. Ruffled brown locks fell haphazardly across her puffy cheeks. Her breath was slow, a slight snore occasionally piercing the still air of her bedroom. Her lids, which hid big, innocent brown eyes, were comfortably closed. She looked like an angel, a painting from the 1940s. She looked so peaceful, so relaxed, so calm.

He adjusted the dirty rucksack onto his shoulder, careful not to make too much noise. He didn't want to disturb the kid from what looked like a good sleep. I wonder if she's dreaming, he thought. I hope their good dreams. He looked up to the ceiling, spied the dream catcher dangling, and grinned. Of course, they are, he thought. She hasn't had one since I got her that thing. She's in good hands. A hint of a smile slid across his face. Good kid, good kid. He felt the urge to go over there, give her a kiss on the cheek, one last gift to her before going. 

Suddenly, he felt his face grow cold. He ground his teeth slightly. This is weird, he thought. I mean, isn't it? I'm looking at this kid, alone, in the middle of the night! While she's sleeping, too. This ain't right, he whispered to himself. I gotta go now! He forced his legs to start moving, although they felt rooted to the carpet underneath him. He stomped down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab some last-minute snacks for the trip. A couple of protein bars, a jar of pickles, and half a bag of stale saltine crackers. Not much, but that's okay. He can survive on less. Besides, they won't let him starve once he gets to where he's going. They've always been good to him down there, anyway, in Tennessee. 

He didn't want to be going, but he had to. There was always a time limit everywhere he went. Every house, every family, everywhere he went, he'd always end up leaving. Been that way for the last ten years, nothing he wasn't used to. Once he did get used to it, he'd started to develop a good sense of when his time was up. The last few years, he'd leave before any of the places he stayed could formally take him out. Yeah, he ended up on the streets a lot. He got used to that, too. Usually, they'd find him and take him to another house. Rinse and repeat. He'd gotten good at keeping himself alive while on the streets. He didn't rob or beat up anyone, but he got good at stealing. Good thing since he never got caught. He usually took stuff from all the other houses, too. Mostly food. But hey, they could afford it.

He had it all planned out; this was his last year in the system. He'd be eighteen in only a few more months and have to go somewhere alone. He couldn't rely on the system to take him somewhere safe. That was the one thing he could say the system was good at. No, he can't just take a risk. Besides, he was done doing that. No, no, he had something else. Tennessee. Nashville, Tennessee. A guy he knew who aged out of the system, a big black guy named Trueness. An ironic name since, when he knew him, he was listed as a compulsive liar. He was working with a masonry contractor. Figured he'd go down there, get licensed and take his skills with him on the road. They're hiring everywhere in this goddamn world, he thought. And hell, I like traveling now that I've done it for so long. He called him up a few months ago after finding his name on the Internet. Found out, too he'd stopped lying and was making a good living for himself contracting. After shooting the shit for a while, he asked if he could live with him once he turned eighteen. It took him some convincing, but he got around to the idea. With that in the plan, all he'd have to do is sit tight and wait.

Until he met her, the sweet kid in the room upstairs. Her name was Jennifer, but she preferred Chrissy. She said it was the name of her favorite flower (She explained later what it meant). He didn't like her at first. The kids he knew and saw were just lousy little shitheads. Mommy and Daddy were always there to clean up after them, kiss boo-boos and wipe their noses. They never had to struggle and never will. Plus, whenever they got in trouble, he was the one to get blamed for their crap. So, of course, he didn't like her. She was just too bubbly and always had a reason to smile. Can't trust someone who smiles that much. Immediately, though, she was smitten with him. The first day they met, she jumped on him in a big bear hug.

"No way!" she yelled. "I got a new big brother! This is the best day of my life!"

She squealed so loudly in his ear that he nearly went deaf. She almost crushed his ribs, too, with how tightly she squeezed him with all her appendages. When Chrissy finally let go, she bragged to everyone in the neighborhood about him. 

"See that kid over there?" she'd say. "That's my new big brother! He will be my best friend forever and ever until we die! He's so cool!"

Nobody else was that enthusiastic. Not even her parents. They were friendly, but he could tell they thought he was a charity case. They never said it out loud; he could tell by how they looked at him. But she was so happy. She conducted the whole house tour, showing him her room, the parent's room, and the particular room she wasn't allowed to go in because it was for adults only. It was actually the studio; her father, he found out later, was an architect. After the tour, she made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with sliced apples and chocolate milk. While he ate, she never left his side. 

It was hard to adjust to her. Her natural energy and positive outlook were something he wasn't used to. He was used to the bad kids who stole from their parents and smoked cigarettes before they turned ten. He was used to the future prostitutes and pimps of the world, to the soon-to-be serial killers and sodomizers. Kids who were old, kids who were way past their calendar age in terms of life experience. She was just an eight-year-old; no more, no less. Her parents actually gave a damn about her. She was learning the world slowly in a way an eight-year-old kid should. It got under his skin. So, he shut himself off. Her parents gave him the task of picking her up from school since the high school they enrolled him in was on the same route. He'd take her, but he wouldn't talk to her. She'd talk about her day the whole time, and he'd let her. The minute he set foot in the house, he set off to his room. So was the routine for the first month.

In the second month, things began to change. One Friday after school, he did his usual. On his way up the stairs, he noticed her following behind him. 

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" she asked.

He grumbled. 

"What?"

She put her hands behind herself and twisted back and forth.

"Can you be my class presentation Monday?"

He looked at her, his eyes widening in confusion.

"What?"

She put her hands in front of her like she was begging. Her big, brown eyes looked up into his like a sad cartoon character.

"The teacher said to bring the coolest thing in your house, and you were the only one I could think of that was cool! Please, please, pleeease?!"

He stepped back. Is this was she thinks of him? As a thing? Looking back on it, she only tried to say that she liked him over all the material toys in her house. At this moment, he was anything but complimented. Scrunching his eyebrows, he turned around and shut the door, slamming it as hard as possible. Stupid kid, he thought. I'm no damn exhibit she can show around. Fuck you! Stupid little brat. He laid himself down on his bed and rolled over onto his side. Maybe he'll take a nap, tomorrow's Saturday, and he had nothing better to do. A loud thud rang behind him as he shut his eyes and prepared himself to sleep. Then another, and then another! His eyes darted open. What the hell was that, he thought. He got his answer as the third thud sounded off.

"Well, fuck you, too!" 

He caught his breath, and his heartbeat stifled a bit. That was Chrissy. He heard her stomp away up the stairs to her room. His eyebrows raised. The kid has balls, he thought, even for a girl. He scrunched his face up, embarrassed at the last few minutes. Maybe I was too hard on her, he thought. She's been putting up with me over the previous two months, telling everyone how cool I was. All I've been doing is keeping away from her. He felt a tightness in his chest, and he massaged the muscle over his sternum. Nope, didn't work. He took in his breath again and stumbled to the door. He trudged up the stairs to her room. When he came to the door, he knocked twice. But she didn't come. He shakily put his hand on the doorknob and twisted it slowly.

"Hey, kid?" he said sheepishly.

He looked around the room. It took him a second to actually locate her. She had hidden underneath her soft bed covers and stuffed animals all over her bed. He couldn't see her, but he could hear her muffled sniffles. Damn it, he thought. Here we go. He shuffled to her bed and sat down. She didn't acknowledge him, but she did stop crying.

"Look," he said. "Maybe I was a bit too harsh back there."

She said nothing.

"Yeah, you've been bragging about me. I appreciate that. I'm not used to it.

Still nothing. He knew what was coming.

"Fine," he said. "I'll be your presentation on Monday."

In a burst of excitement, she leaped from the bedroom and hugged him tightly, squealing louder and higher than ever. Her strength took the air out of his lungs, and he gasped for air. In his left ear, he heard a slight ringing. In another surprise, she gave him a sloppy, tear-addled kiss on the cheek. 

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she screamed. "This is going to be so much fun!"

And it was; she laid out the carpet for him like he was royalty, introducing him like he was some VIP. He told his story to the kids and watched as she did some pantomiming for extra effect. If one of the kids snickered at something, she was on him before they could do anything else. When they finished, all the kids' jaws dropped. All except the teacher's, whose was clenched, trying to stifle a laugh. As a reward, Chrissy made him dinner, another peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

The next six months flew by with the same afternoon routine; he'd wait for her after school, and they'd walk home together. He took to helping her with homework as best as he could, and she, in turn, would let him play with her. Of course, that's how she put it. On weekends, they'd go fishing in a creek down by the house when he wasn't doing house chores with her dad. On Christmas, they exchanged gifts; they had way too much soda on New Year's. On her birthday, they went to Disneyland. All was good. 

But it dawned on him one day; his eighteenth birthday was coming soon. He'd be phased out, and he'd end up out on the street again. Her parents had no plans to adopt him, again something he knew from the get-go. He was curious if he even wanted to go to Tennessee. But it was the only viable option at this point. As his birthday came closer and closer, he knew he had to go. He didn't let on to anyone about his plan for weeks. He never told anyone, not even Chrissy, what would happen. But slowly, he packed his things into his bag. Clothes, supplies, and everything for the trip. He might have to steal a few bucks from somewhere, but he'll get himself there. He called up Trueness and told him to meet him in a week. He'll take the Amtrak, which should only take a few days. But he'll be there. Come hell or high water.

The night finally came for him to go. He went through the motions, still careful not to let anyone know what was happening. Dinner happened, and bedtime came around, but he stayed up. When he was sure everyone was asleep, he grabbed his bag and made out. But he couldn't leave without saying goodbye. He went upstairs to look at her one last time before he left. Chrissy was his sister, now and forever will be. He might never see her again, and she might forget who he was. Her parents will foster another kid one day, and she'll have another big brother or sister. As much as it pained him, it was the best.

He made his way downstairs, forcing himself to keep moving. He went to the fridge, grabbed what he could, and inched his way to the front door. Slowly he opened and shut it behind him, careful not to trigger the alarm. The cool early autumn air his exposed neck and forearms, forcing the hairs on them to stand up. He took a cold breath and stifled the tears in his eyes. Quickly he about-faced and took in a near run. One more second there, and he'll go back. And he can't do that. Not now! Not ever!

Making his way across the lawn, suddenly, he felt something staring at him. Something familiar. Turning around to face it, he saw them. Big brown, saucer-shaped eyes that were brimmed with tears, brown hair ruffled around, and pink cartoon pajamas.

"Where are you going?" Chrissy murmured.