The afternoon drew long and warm, and I kept my eyes glued to the book while my six-year-old sister, Nancy, pestered me. I tried not to move a muscle though she pushed and pulled my sleeve, not wanting to show the slightest hint that I acknowledged her existence.
Mom walked in and said, “Nathan, could you please draw just one picture for her?”
I looked up and saw the drawn tired face gazing down at me with pleading eyes. You shouldn’t have left dad, I wanted to say, but didn’t have the heart to because mom and Nancy, not me, were the ones who bore the brunt of dad’s temper. I put down the book reluctantly and drew a fat pony with a horn and wings. Nancy fell on it immediately with a box of crayons.
Mom pulled out some food stamps from an envelope and said, “I am going to get us some milk. Watch your sister, okay.”
“Yeh,” I said reluctantly. I knew that my mom would be away for a while because she would be dropping into a few employment agencies and reading each and every single notice they put up on their board. I really couldn’t be bothered to take care of my sister. So, a few minutes after she left the flat, I knocked on a door across from ours, and when our neighbor Daniel opened it, I had a big smile on my face.
“Hi, Daniel.”
“Yo, what-up, kid?”
“Nancy asked if she could come over and play with you.”
“Of course, anytime,” he said and grinned.
I went back and told Nancy that Daniel wanted to play with her. She jumped to her feet, picked up their favorite teddy and walked over. Peace finally I sighed, and returned to my book.
As the day began to dim, I heard a knock on the door. I opened it to Daniel and a cranky Nancy. Darn, I thought but Daniel’s words soothed me when he said, “Don’t worry. Your mom will be up in a few minutes. I saw her standing in front of the traffic light, waiting to cross.” He knelt on one knee and kissed Nancy. “Be good, baby, and I will buy something special for teddy, okay?”
“Okay,” she said and wiped her face on the teddy bear. I pulled her into the flat. Not long after the door opened and Mom walked in. “Hi, kids. Anyone hungry?”
“I am,” I said with gusto but Nancy only shook her head. Mom fished out two burgers from a grocery bag and passed them to us. While she showered, I ate both mine and Nancy’s dinner. Mom eventually came out to join us in front of the TV. She put her hand on Nancy’s forehead and asked, “What’s wrong, baby?”
“I’m tired.”
“Would you like some milk?”
“I want to sleep.”
Mom frowned as she picked her up and carried her to bed. Now I had the TV all to myself. When mom came back, she sat next to me, wrapped an arm over my shoulders and asked, “Did you two quarrel today?”
“No, I was reading the whole time.”
“What was Nancy doing?” I shrugged. She persisted. “Was she with you the whole time?”
I hesitated. I didn’t like lying to my mom. “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Did she eat anything she shouldn’t?”
I puffed my cheeks then said, “Don’t be silly, mom. There’s nothing to eat until you came back.”
Mom turned her face away and stood up. I sensed that I had hurt her feelings. Not knowing what else to do or say to mend the situation, I said good night and went to bed.
When I was up the next morning, I found a note next to a platter of sandwiches on the table and learned that Mom had gone out early for a cleaning job in the suburbs. Another day of reading, I smiled to myself. Yet the memory of the conversation with my mom stood out like a sore thumb in my conscience, so that when my sister took a seat at the table I asked, “So, what did you and Daniel do yesterday?”
“We play games.”
“Are the games fun?”
“Yeah. They are nice.” She bit into a sandwich and wrinkled her nose. “He makes better sandwiches.”
“What kind?”
“Cheese and peanut butter and jelly.”
“Why were you so tired yesterday?”
“We played bed, and it made me sleepy.”
“So you sleep at his place?”
She wrinkled her brow. “No, I play,” she giggled. “Daniel likes to tickle me. Sometimes he is nice, sometimes he is funny.”
“I guess he wants to wake you up.”
She smiled. “Can I go see him again?”
“I guess. Mom isn’t home today.”
She quickly got off the table and dashed to our single bedroom to change out of her pajamas. It was then that I heard a crash from outside in the corridor. I went to open the door a crack and peeked.
A policeman was standing outside Daniel’s door, looking in. I could hear a commotion coming from inside and soon I saw a protesting Daniel emerge with two officers grabbing either side of his arm. The officer standing outside turned and saw me watching.
“Go back inside, kid, and lock the door.”
“Is he a murderer?” I asked wide-eyed.
He looked at me quizzically. “He is a child molester." A pause. "You know him?”
“He is my neighbor, sir.”
A little more sternly he asked, “Have you ever been alone with him?”
I gulped, suddenly feeling terrified for my sister. What had I done? Would she go to jail too for playing with him? I lied, “No, sir. Mom won’t let us play with strangers.”
His face softened and he nodded. “Good. You’re a smart kid. Now lock the door and stay inside.”
I quickly obeyed. When I turned, I saw my sister watching me, half her face hidden behind the head of the teddy bear she was clutching. The fright on my face must be plain even for a six-year-old, for she did not pester me the rest of the day.
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