chapter nineteen:
When Peter returned with two coffees and a hot tea, Mr. Goldson had been pleased. When Peter revealed that he knew more engineering and fixing cars, Mr. Goldson pleasantly approved. He clapped Caelum on the back as he lifted a few boxes to the work station.
“You bring in more boys who like to work for free,” He said heartily before escaping into the office.
While Peter was sliding into good graces with everyone, Caelum was far from amused. He asked Austin or Caelum what needed to be done. At first, Austin would give him a job ― spot Caelum as he tightened the valves, run the engine as Caelum fixed the motor ― but when he realized that Peter’s knowledge of cars was on par with Caelum’s he gave him more complex tasks. It wasn’t dangerous, but nothing a beginner would be comfortable with doing.
Peter, however, was more than in his element, and he made it known to Caelum too. He laughed, told jokes, spoke at rapid-fire speeds. Caelum tried not to look amused ― he had a job that needed to get done ― but he couldn’t help smiling to himself or shaking his head. He would catch glances at the boy when his back was turned, easily averting his gaze before Peter caught on.
This was an issue ― Peter was distracting him. He needed to stop ― he needed to go. But, to voice his complaints in the earshot of Austin or Mr. Goldman was dangerous. Mr. Goldman liked Peter and Austin would annoy him until he brought the boy back.
So, much like decathlon, Caelum simply ignored him. He did his work quietly and efficiently, blocking out all of the noise, the laughter, the distraction that Peter brought with him. If he simply kept to himself, he could get over this. Peter had to go to school tomorrow and everything would be back to normal.
Caelum seemed to forget how tired he had been that morning and that he was running on twenty minutes of sleep. He was exhausted, and his body wasn’t all that quiet about it. His head was pounding and his eyes kept zoning in and out.
His hand loosened on the wrench, his body falling forward as he leaned inside the car. “Cael?” Peter was inside the car, hanging outside the door to see him. Caelum shot back up, stumbling back. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, stifling a yawn. Peter didn’t seem to buy it, though.
He looked across the room to Austin, who was wiping his hand on an already dirty towel. “Hey, Austin, can Cael take a break?”
Austin nodded, “Thirty minutes.” Peter grinned, and stood straight, going to Caelum’s side.
“I can’t take a break,” Caelum frowned. He couldn’t afford a ‘break’. Peter pouted and tugged on his arm, his twinkling eyes going round again. His lips turned up in an adorable pout and his eyebrows scrunching up. Caelum looked away, pressing his lips tight stubbornly.
“Take a break, Caelum,” Austin ordered, and Caelum looked at him, annoyed.
“Austin―”
“You work hard enough. Go.” His tone left no room for argument. Caelum let out a half-sigh, half-groan.
Peter interpreted this noise as a yes and proceeded to drag him out of the shop. Caelum barely had time to put back on his coat and take his toolbelt off. “We can’t be out forever,” Caelum warned, but Peter didn’t seem to worry.
Caelum followed him down the street as Peter walked eagerly. Unlike the people walking around them, Peter was ecstatic. He walked happily, grinning that sunny smile to the people who passed them. If Peter wanted to, he could smile the snow away.
Caelum followed him like a darker shadow, his arms folded tight to his chest, pushing away the freezing cold. “Where are we going?” Caelum asked the sunny boy.
“We’re almost there,” Peter said, and soon enough, they had arrived. Peter pushed through the doors at a small cafe. It was homely and smelt like vanilla beans. The woman was leaning over a register, counting a few bills out for a customer. She looked up at Peter and smiled.
“Petey!” She exclaimed. She was a fiery redhead with bronzened freckles across her features. She had striking green eyes. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, a few strands dangling traitorously in front of her face. The woman wore a green shirt and black pants with a small logo that looked like a half-circle with waves coming off the top. She grinned at them. “Who’s your friend?” She had a small accent on her voice, but Caelum couldn’t place it. It was almost southern, but not all the way.
“This is Caelum ― Caelum, this is Sarah.” Caelum gave a firm nod, as the woman handed her change to the man. He nodded gruffly, raising his muffler and turning away.
A woman came out from a back room, “Petey’s here?” She called.
A large black woman stepped out. She wore the same uniform as Sarah, and smiled wide at them. She reminded Caelum of his Aunt Geneieve on his mother’s side. “Haven’t seen you in ages!” She said, squeezing out from behind the counter and giving Peter a big hug. “Where’ve you been hidin’? How’s May?”
Peter laughed, “School, and May’s good. I’ll tell her you said hey.”
“You do that,” She grinned, and turned to Caelum. He straightened and gave the woman a polite smile, “Who’s this?”
“Caelum Forest,” He replied smoothly, “Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand for the woman to shake. She surprised him by pulling his hand and bringing him into a hug. Caelum held in a gasp ― she was just like his Aunt. She smelt distinctly of peaches, Caelum realized. Like, when they are still fresh and grown off of trees in Georgia, not the canned versions after the scent had been artificially altered.
“You a friend of Peter’s?” She asked when she pulled away, and Caelum frowned.
“We went to the same school together,” he replied, and Peter rolled his eyes, thinking this was an understatement.
“I'm Dorri,” the woman smiled. “You gon’ get anything, hun?” It took Caelum a minute to realize she was talking to him ― and had referred to him as 'hun’.
“No,” Caelum said just as Peter said, “Yes!”
“A salad. And I'll get my usual,” Peter said and Caelum frowned. He glanced at the chalkboard menu behind Sarah.
CAESAR SALAD - $7.99
“No, I won't,” he said.
“Yeah, you will,” Peter replied stubbornly.
“No, I―” It was too late. Sarah rang it up. “Wait―!” He could feel the money leaving his pockets, thinking about having to pay for it. He usually sufficed with an apple whenever he had time, but an eight dollar meal would completely offset his budget.
Peter stepped up and pulled out his wallet, taking a twenty dollar bill out and handing it to the woman. “Is that all?” Sarah asked as Dorri moved back behind the counter to prepare their meals.
“Can I get a hot tea?”
“Sure,” she smiled. “We have green tea, peppermint, pomegranate, and earl grey.”
“Green is fine,” he said and she tapped something else.
“Alrightie! I'll have it out in a minute!” Peter grinned and waved Caelum along. He was hesitant, he didn’t like Peter buying him things, but he didn’t have the money for it, and he hadn’t had a full meal in weeks.
He followed, sliding into a bench seat as they waited. Caelum rested his head on the palm of his hand, “Do you come here often?” He spoke in lieu of the awkward silence that had threatened to befall them.
“My parents were friends with Sarah and Dorri,” Peter said, looking around, a nostalgic smile on his face. “I come whenever I can, but with decath and school. . .” He trailed off, looking a bit awkward at the mention of school.
Sarah came by and set his tea down in front of Caelum. He thanked her, grabbing two packets of sugar and tipping them in his drink. “So. . . why did you leave your parent’s apartment?” Peter finally asked, as if he had been brooding over it all morning.
Caelum took a sip of his tea, stalling for time to think. He decided to tell the truth, after a bit of deliberation. “Principal Davis came to my house,” he finally said, cupping his hands around the ceramic rim of mug. “He. . . knows where I lived. I thought that if I dropped out of school. . . and he knew my address. . . he’d put two and two together, I guess.” It felt weird to voice his fears aloud, and even worse to Peter, but this had been building up in him for weeks. Caelum had sacrificed being with his family in order to keep the predatory man from them.
Peter gave an understanding nod, picking at his cuticles. “What did he do to you, Cael?” He asked hesitantly. “I mean. . . you’re so afraid of him. I. . . I could hear you begging him outside of his office, and then you came out with cuts and bruises. . .”
Caelum shook his head, swallowing. He didn’t want to talk about it ― the man already infected his dreams enough, pushing his head far, far down as the sound of his belt buckle hitting the wooden floors rang in his ears. “Not today,” he said softly. That was a story for another time, later, farther in the future ― if he made it that far.
Sarah came to their table, dropping a steaming sandwich in front of Peter, and a Caesar salad in front of Caelum. “You boys enjoy, alright?” She said with her not-so-southern accent and Peter thanked her, grinning.
Caelum took the plastic fork off of the side of the paper bowl, pouring the dressing in and beginning to eat. His stomach was growling as he took the first bite, and he sighed gratefully as he chewed. The salad was great, and he hadn’t had a meal like this in weeks.
Peter rose an eyebrow at him as he continued, finishing his bowl in minutes. His stomach was unsatisfied, but Caelum didn’t mind. It would do for now. “When was the last time you ate, Cael?” Peter asked suddenly, and Caelum frowned. It took him a few minutes, and by the time he may have been half-way close, he gave up.
“That’s not important,” he said, taking another sip of the steaming tea. Peter frowned suspiciously, but left it alone.
Caelum looked out the windows of the cafe. It was warm inside, with all the cooking, and not many people were coming in and out. This caused the windows to fog up, slightly obscuring the view of the travellers on the street. Caelum leaned on his hand, catching glimpses of people on their ways home or to work. He wondered what their lives were like ― if they got to finish school and have friends and eat salads whenever they wanted.
He sleepily thought about if they had kids, if they beat on them like his father. Maybe, they tucked them in at night and kissed their foreheads, like his sister did when he was young and when she was innocent.
He vaguely wondered, if their sisters were like ghosts in their families, as his eyes closed shut.
° · ° · ° · °
When Caelum’s eyes opened again, he was in a completely different place. He was. . . on a couch, for sure. Someone was on the floor, leaning their head against the side of his leg. He gave a small yawn, twisting under a thick woolly blanket. It prickled his skin, but it was warm ― so warm.
He mumbled, snuggling into it. His radiator was broken and his bed smells like piss and sex, but this smelt like. . . peaches and vanilla beans.
“You awake?” The voice was familiar.
Caelum mumbled again, “No Petra. . . don’t want to go yet. . .” He said sleepily, turning away.
Someone chuckled. “We don’t have to ― I’ll call Delmar and Austin. You need a day off.” He felt something pat his knee, and he gave a small nod, going back to sleep.
° · ° · ° · °
When Caelum woke back up, he could hear the distinct sound of afternoon traffic. The cars were loud and drivers irritated. He sighed, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He looked around, everything was warm, he hadn’t felt warmth like this since he was in his parent’s apartment.
Was he? He wondered, if Principal Davis knew he was there. . .
Caelum sat up, rubbing at his face, yawning. He saw Peter on the other side of the couch, the cushions moved so he could fit between the groove and the armrest. His feet were beside Caelum’s arm and he could feel the warmth of his body under the blanket they shared.
“You’re awake,” Peter grinned, looking as if he had just taken a nap.
“Awake?” He frowned, looking at his worn, leather watch. Did he doze off ― his break wasn’t this long.
He gaped at the time, nearly jumping off the sofa. 8:30 PM!? “Ei–Eight-Thirty!?” He practically screamed. God, oh god, he missed. . . he missed everything. “I’ve been asleep for. . . nearly twelve hours!?” His hands were shaking, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. How was he going to explain this to anyone ― to everyone? He’d be fired immediately, Mr. Goldman would be pissed as hell! And, Delmar?! He just got that job, and it paid great.
Caelum ran his hands through his hair, trying to get off the couch, trying to get out. He had to explain ― he had to get back. All the hours he missed, oh god his budget!
“Whoa, Cael!” Peter scrambled to get up too. Caelum wasn’t wearing shoes, where were his shoes? “Where are you going?”
“I–I missed―” he was panicking, he couldn’t calm down. He’d have to go without shoes, he could run ― it’d be icy. It didn’t matter, he needed to get out of here.
“You didn’t miss anything,” Peter assured, coming to his side. He held onto his shoulders, grounding him. “Breathe ― you didn’t miss anything. I called Delmar and I spoke to Austin and Mr. Goldman. You didn’t miss anything.”
Caelum stared at him, his eyes wide in shock and slight horror. “You. . . you arranged this?” He felt like the boy had just spoken French.
Peter rubbed his neck, “You looked like you hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep lately. I mean, you practically fell into that car earlier. I didn’t think you’d fall out on the table during lunch, but you definitely had some ‘zzz’s to catch up on. I mean, you said it yourself, you were out for nearly twelve hours.”
“Peter,” Caelum was still shaken. All the money he would’ve made today ― lost, just like that. “Peter,” he breathed again.
“I can’t say I’m sorry for not waking you in time, Cael,” Peter admitted. “You look like a mess. If you spend all day working like this, you’re going to work yourself into a grave. You deserve a break.”
“I can’t afford a break!” Caelum snapped, finally able to break free of the shock that gripped him. “Don’t you understand that? I can’t afford to–to sleep all day! My dad is in jail, my mom can’t support us all by herself! I. . .” He ran a hand over his shaved head. “I lost so many hours today. . .” he murmured, rubbing his face. The room was beginning to get dizzy ― he needed to sit down.
He moved back to the peaches and vanilla bean couch, rubbing his face. Geez. . . this was just. . . god. . .
He could still make it to the bar, he decided. He would be a little late probably, but he could still work tonight, and get the $25. As for the rest that he should have made. . . he’d figure it out. His mother could foot that part, he thought, but frowned immediately. She was paying the boy’s expenses, food and school, along with a part of the bills for the apartment. It wasn’t fair that she had to do a part of the rent that was his domain.
“I know you’re stressed out,” Peter said, moving beside him. “But you need to start taking care of yourself, Cael.”
“I do take care of myself,” He lied.
“You couldn’t even tell me the last time you ate, earlier.”
“I was tired,” he lied again.
Peter frowned, “When was the last time you ate?” He opened his mouth, “Excluding earlier, and the tea this morning doesn’t count.” Caelum closed his mouth. “Exactly.”
“Parker,” he sighed, “I understand your concern, but I can’t―I can’t waste money like this. My family―”
“Your mom has a job.”
“And I have three.”
“And you barely get any sleep because of it,” Peter frowned and poked his side. “Not to mention, you hardly eat too.”
Caelum shook his head, standing back up. “I can’t argue this with you right now. I have to get to the bar.” He went to the door, but Dorri was blocking his way, hands on her hips and her mouth in a disapproving frown.
“I won’t allow it,” she announced. “It’s late, and ya still have barely eaten!”
Caelum smiled politely, trying to move past the larger woman, but she was like a brick wall. “With all due respect, ma’am, I have a job to go to.”
“Where do ya live?”
Caelum frowned, “Above my job, down on 18th.”
“18th?” She frowned, thinking for a minute. “Who’s your employer?”
“You probably don’t know him, Frank Hills―”
“Frankie? I grew up with him! I'll call him and tell him that you are quittin'.”
“What?” He blanched.
“Yes,” She nodded. “He runs the bar, right? Those bedrooms are disgustin'! He has ya sleepin' there?” Caelum didn’t get to answer. “No, ya stay here. I won’t allow it.”
“Ma’am, I couldn’t―”
“That’s not a suggestion. I can’t believe he had you in those filthy rooms! I’ll call him right now ― ya got anythin' ya need tonight that’s over there, hun?” It took him a second to realize that she was asking him a question.
“Oh, I just. . . my suitcase―”
“Good,” she gave a firm nod. “I’ll call him then. You'll get it in the morning. Young boys like ya shouldn’t be workin' bars ― what time does he got ya finishin' up? 2 AM? 3?”
“Usually, but I don’t mind, ma’am, I―”
“Save it!” She snapped, as if he were Mr. Hills. “Ya go lay back down with Peter, I’m gonna call this man.”
“Ma’am, please,” Caelum felt like his life was sand slipping through his fingers ― he couldn’t lose that job! “I need that job, I can’t just–just quit, I―”
“Ya can work here,” She said. “Sarah and I don’t mind. You’re a respectful kid, and if Peter tolerates ya, then you’re not trouble, are ya?” Caelum shook his head. “Good. Ya can’t be falling dead asleep like that ― nearly gave Sarah a heart attack when ya did it! She thought she poisoned ya.”
Caelum couldn’t help the nervous laugh, and Dorri smiled warmly at him. “Don’t worry, hun. We’ll pay ya for your work and ya can get to sleep on time.” She shook her head again, annoyed, and reached into her apron pocket, pulling out a phone. “Can’t believe that man ― I might cuss him out!”
“Wait, what about rent?” Caelum asked, Mr. Hills’ rent was cheap and generous. He didn’t know if he could afford a higher one than his.
“Rent!?” Dorri swung around as if she had been hit. “Ya ain’t payin’ no damn rent! Did he have you payin' rent!?” Caelum couldn’t speak, but his silence was an answer enough. “Oh, I’m gonna kill this man! Sarah!” She turned, leaving the room, calling down the hall for the woman. “This bastard had him payin’ rent!”
Caelum stared at the door, shocked. He. . . he didn’t have to go back to the bar. He didn’t have to pay rent, and he would get a job here?
“Cael?” Peter was suddenly beside him. Caelum felt faint with relief. “Are you alright?” He couldn’t speak. He sniffed, rubbing at his face and letting out a long, deep sigh. Peter nudged his arm, “Does this mean we can do midnight talks again? Because I don’t think Sarah and Dorri are letting you go back to the bar?”
Caelum couldn’t help it. He burst into laughter. He laughed until his sides ached and tears ran down his face. He laughed as Peter smiled, and soon joined him. He fell to his knees, holding his face as hysterical, disbelieving laughter slipped past his lips.
Caelum felt like he could have laughed for hours after that ― he didn’t know the last time he remembered laughing, not like this. A month ago? Three? Definitely no time soon.
He laughed until they turned into sobs, great joyous sobs of laughter. Peter hugged his shoulders as he held his face, his body shaking. He held him tight, still smelling like shea butter. If Caelum had been in any kind of stable mental state, he would have been embarrassed. He would have pulled away.
But tonight. . . tonight he stopped fighting. Tonight, he let go.