Waterways (24 page)

“I’m still bored,” mumbled Ajani. “I wish I had my comic books.”

“Just recite them to yourself, dear.”

“Mom!” Kasim protested.

She smiled, one paw grooming the fur between Mariatu’s ears. “We do need to leave soon, though. Would you tell Sammy when you get down there, Kory?”

Kory nodded. “Sure.” He hurried off down the hallway, hoping that if he moved quickly enough, he could ditch his mother. What if Malaya called Samaki his boyfriend in front of her? The click of her claws on the tile floor followed him. For a moment, he considered giving Nick a look that would enlist his help, but then he drove the worries from his mind. They only had a few minutes, and Malaya was more important than him worrying about what his mother would think. Though it was a good sign that Mrs. Roden was in good spirits.

Though the hallway walls were white, each door was a different color. They passed a bulletin board with a number of crayon drawings tacked up onto it: “A leukemia germ,” “Get well Marky,” and untitled illustrations of home, hospital beds, and children in casts. Kory scanned the numbers and then heard Samaki’s voice, and padded quickly toward it.

“I only had one other person in my room at St. Mike’s,” Nick said behind him as they entered the room. Samaki looked up from the farthest of the three beds on the left as Kory entered. The black fox gave him a wave and a brief smile. Kory padded quickly around to his side, looking down at the bed.

Malaya’s eyes, half-lidded, followed him partway around and then gave up, drifting back to where his mother and Nick were approaching. Her right arm lay across her stomach, encased in plaster, and one of her ears drooped with the weight of taped bandages. The other still bore a silver stud, but that was the only trace of the old rebellious Malaya. In the hospital gown, she looked sick, not goth. “Hey,” Kory whispered, then asked Samaki, “Is she awake?”

“Yeah,” the black fox said, and looked up, acknowledging Kory’s mother and Nick with a short wave.

Malaya stirred, now turning her head toward Kory, blinking slowly. “Kory?”

“Hey.” He smiled.

“Told you,” she said, “didn’t I?”

“Told me what?”

Her eyes had drifted over to the other side of the bed. “Who’s that?”

“Malaya, this is my mom and my brother Nick.”

They both whispered hellos. The bat turned back to Kory and Samaki. “Kory knows,” she said. “He wasn’t trying… to sell me on a rainbow.”

Kory exchanged a bewildered glance with Samaki, and then decided to ignore the comment. “So how are you feeling?”

“Feel…” She raised her arm an inch, let it drop, and winced. “Like shit. How’s it look?”

“How did this happen?” Kory saw his mother flinch at the language. Maybe another swear or two would drive her out.

“
He
did it. Course.”

Samaki whispered, “Margo said the hospital banned her father from seeing her. There’s a social services worker coming to interview her.” Kory felt a knot of anger form in his chest, bright and hot. He clenched a fist at his side.

“Social services,” Malaya shook her head back and forth in a full one-eighty. “Bunch of fucking morons.”

“You really don’t need to use that kind of language,” Kory’s mother said reprovingly.

Malaya looked at her again and said, “Don’t need to. But I like to.”

“It doesn’t serve any purpose.”

The bat turned back to Kory. “I haven’t had a mom in twelve years, don’t need one now.”

“Mom,” Kory said, louder than he’d meant to, but his mother had drawn herself up, whiskers twitching and mouth pursed shut, her ears flat back.

The nurse broke the uncomfortable silence, announcing that there were only five minutes left. Kory’s mother grasped Nick’s paw and turned to head for the door, then turned. “Kory, come on. Time to go.”

Kory didn’t move. His paw hurt from how tightly he was clenching it. “What happened?”

Malaya’s rattling laugh made Kory’s fur prickle. “Teen Vogue. Caught me reading Teen Vogue. Told me I had to cast Satan out. I told him… Satan has pretty dresses.” She indicated the bandage on her ear with her good hand. “Hit me in the head. Knocked me down.” She lifted her cast. “Broke my arm pulling me up.”

Kory looked up at the nurse, an elderly wolf beckoning them with a gloved paw. His mother had listened to Malaya’s speech and now was dragging Nick past the nurse and out. He wanted to tell Malaya that it wasn’t right, that he’d help her and protect her, but she knew it wasn’t right, just as she knew there was nothing he could do. Social services or not, once she was out of the hospital she would go back to her father eventually and this would happen again until maybe it wasn’t a hospital she’d wind up in, but wherever her mom had gone. He wanted to tell her not to go back, but the words got jumbled together in his throat and nothing he could say would be more than a crayon “get well soon” drawing she could tack on the hallway of her mind and look at while her father was hitting her. “We gotta go,” Kory said.

“We’ll come back and visit when we can.” Samaki leaned over and squeezed her hand.

Malaya nodded. Her eyes closed slowly as they followed Kory’s mother out.

“Well, if anyone needs help, she does,” Kory’s mother said softly as they walked down the hall. “You’re to be commended for your charity, Kory.”

Samaki’s tail brushed against his, safely out of sight. Kory worked to unclench his paw and relax. “I wish I could do more.”

“Her father sounds like one of those Baptists.”

“I don’t know, exactly.”

“He must be, to think Vogue is sinful. Talking about casting out Satan.” She made a ‘tch’ sound with her tongue.

Kory had been wondering that himself, but the brush of Samaki’s tail against his, reminding him of their shared secret, gave him the answer. “He thought she was looking at the women.” He only realized after he said it that he’d said it loudly enough for everyone to hear.

They had just arrived in the gaily colored lobby. With one final tail-tag, Samaki left Kory and padded over to his family. Ajani said, “Can we
go
now?”

Kory’s mother had half-turned to look at him, her brow creased. “The women?”

Mrs. Roden, holding Mariatu in one arm, distracted her before Kory could respond. “Are you all leaving now, too?”

“We have to,” Kory said. “Visiting hours are over.”

The elevator dinged. Doors creaked open. “Come on,” Mrs. Roden said. “We’ll all ride down together.”

The two moms talked about recipes and pointedly skirted the subject of Malaya, while Ajani and Kasim both tried to talk to Kory at the same time, Ajani telling him about the latest comic book and Kasim trying to talk about one of his cartoon shows. He listened to their chatter with one ear, catching Samaki’s eye and noticing that the black fox wasn’t smiling, either. The violet eyes reflected Kory’s pain, if not so much the anger. Kory tried to suppress his own, knowing it wasn’t Samaki’s way, knowing it wouldn’t help, that what was needed was for him to be Malaya’s friend and support her. It was hard to let go, and it was compounded by the black fox’s presence three feet away, because all Kory wanted right now was to hug him and tell him how unfair it was for a bright, funny girl to be lying dazed and broken in a hospital bed, but with his mother in the elevator, he didn’t dare. They shared the thought with their eyes, but eyes couldn’t encircle him warmly, wrap a tail around him and squeeze him, rub a muzzle against his and kiss his cheek softly. His fur and skin ached for that touch, and to see Samaki so close just fed the small, hot anger he felt at Malaya’s father.

It all came from the same thing, didn’t it? His mother wouldn’t knock him down and break his arm—probably couldn’t—but she wasn’t so different from Malaya’s father. Not in spirit. He disliked her intensely for a moment, a spike of rage that simmered down as Kasim pulled on his shirt, distracting him. Perversely, his annoyance spread, encompassing his whole situation. Why did he have to be trapped in this life where he couldn’t be honest with his family and friends about the people he loved? Why did Samaki have to come along and drag him into this? If he’d never met the fox, he’d never have met Malaya, and he wouldn’t be here in the hospital in an elevator that felt more and more claustrophobic by the minute.

He met Samaki’s eyes again, and instantly felt bad. If he hadn’t met Samaki, then he wouldn’t know Samaki. He wouldn’t want that. It was everyone else causing the problems. Guilt flushed his ears, still warm as the elevator doors opened.

As they left the elevator, the Rodens all milled around one end of the lobby, away from where Kory’s mom had parked. They said good-byes, Mrs. Roden promising to call, Kory’s mother saying she hoped to see Samaki again soon. Kory and Samaki squeezed paws in a firmer-than-usual grip and said goodbye with their eyes. “Call ya tomorrow,” Kory said, and Samaki nodded.

“What did you mean, she was looking at women?” his mother asked as they left. Kory groaned inwardly. Of all the things for her to latch on to.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, feeling his paws tighten into fists again.
Relax,
he willed them.

“Is she homosexual?”

The carefully controlled distaste with which his mother said that word sent a jolt through Kory’s chest. He snapped his head up and opened his mouth to say something noncommittal like “I don’t know,” but different words boiled out. “What does it matter?”

His mother blinked. “Of course, at that age she’s still vulnerable to urges. If she was being approached by homosexuals, she could be confused.”

“Her father beat her up and broke her arm.”

“Lower your voice,” his mother snapped. “You’re too young to know what you’re talking about. You have to protect children from those people while they’re at an impressionable age.”

“Mom, that’s so lame.” Kory had almost forgotten Nick was with them. His younger brother looked at Kory around his mother’s dress, his eyes wide in warning.

“Quiet, Nick.”

“He’s right,” Kory said. “It is lame. You think you can protect us?”

They had left the hospital and now walked along the sidewalk back towards the car. “The Lord knows I’m doing the best I can.” When Kory snorted, not trusting himself to speak, his mother turned around, paws on her hips. “What is so amusing, young man?”

“Nothing,” he said, glaring at her.

“Come on, let’s get home.” Nick tugged hard on his mother’s arm, his eyes pleading with Kory:
Don’t!

She ignored Nick, staring back at Kory. “Have you been approached by homosexuals, Kory?”

“Oh, I sure have, Mom,” he said, the words spilling out. He wanted to hurt her. His heart was pounding. “They got me. There wasn’t anything you could do.”

As soon as he said it, Nick groaned, and Kory wished he could take the words back. His mother didn’t scream, or strike him, or gape in disbelief. She stared at him for a moment, then turned around and walked for the car again, Nick firmly in tow.

Kory stood, bewilderment overcoming anger for the moment, and hurried after them. His mother’s ears swiveled back, hearing his footsteps, and she shook her head. “Father Joe said you’d go through this stage.”

Now Kory’s fur prickled and he felt a chill that had nothing to do with the crisp evening wind. “What?” Father Joe had told him their talks would be confidential.

“He said all teenagers go through a rebellious stage. You obviously feel sorry for that poor girl and… you’re lashing out at me. That’s okay. God gives me the strength to handle it. If you really are confused about homosexuals, you can talk to Father Joe about it.”

“I already have,” Kory said.

“Oh.” This stopped her only for a moment. “I don’t mind that you went to him first. It’s natural for you to hesitate to talk to me. It’s part of that stage you’re in. Well, if he can’t help, there’s a camp you can go to that will clear it all up.”

“I’m not going to be brainwashed,” Kory said. He wondered how much Father Joe had told her. Not what he’d initially feared, it seemed. “And stop calling it a ‘stage’.”

“Oh, Kory,” his mother sighed. “The Lord works in mysterious ways. The camp may be just what you need anyway.”

“Just what I need? For what?”

They all climbed into the car. His mother didn’t say anything until they were on the street. “A little discipline, a father figure. I know… I read about cases like this. You’re missing a strong male authority figure. I tried to compensate with sports and that church retreat.”

“That’s what that was about?” Nick said from the back seat.

His mother continued as though he hadn’t said anything. “But you never took to sports. I should have known you’d need more. I’ll go find the information on those camps, and if you’re still persisting in this fantasy, we can sign you up for the summer before you go to college. See? It’s an easy problem to solve.”

Looking across the seat, Kory fumed at her placid expression. “It’s not a problem, and it doesn’t need to be solved,” he said.

“This girl in my class kissed another girl right in front of—”

“Nicholas!” His mother acknowledged Nick now, sharply.

“Seriously,” Kory said, “I’ve read about those camps, you know. Have you?

“I don’t want to discuss that right now. I just want you to know that I’m willing to help you with this problem, Kory. I love you.”

The words sounded forced out. Kory stared at her. “Yeah, Mom. You and God. Right?”

“I know it might be hard for you to believe.”

“When you talk about sending me away to camp to fix me, it is.”

She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “If you broke your leg, I’d send you to the hospital. Would you not want that, either?”

“Nothings broken!” Kory yelled.

She stopped at a red light, slamming the brake hard. “Lower. Your. Voice,” she snarled back. The light turned green. She rolled through in silence to the freeway on-ramp. “I don’t know whether you’re really feeling these things or if you’re just acting out some kind of rebellious impulse because you know it will upset me, but either way you need to learn how to behave normally.”

“Rebellious impulse?” he gaped at her. “You think this is about you?”

“Of course not,” she said with false sincerity. “It’s about your need to have your own space, to define your identity independent of me. I know I haven’t given you everything you need, Kory, and I’m sorry about that. But it’s important that whatever you think you’re feeling, you talk about it and make sure we can head it off before it becomes any more of a problem. Nicholas, that goes for you too.”