Leaving: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

Frosted Flakes.
    “Wheeeeeeee. I’m a hornet!” he yelled, trying to kick the books off the cubbies as he went by.
    “One thousand Bonus Points to everyone who’s ignoring,” said the staff holding Love’s legs. The other kids turned back to the table and took slow sips of sugary milk off their spoons.
    An hour later, Love was doing his sit-time against the back wall.
    “Here’s your buddy, Love.” The staff guarding the quiet-room stood up and handed the rope to Tom. “You guys can talk, and then we’ll process.”
    Tom still had a red splotch on his head where Love had hit him earlier that week. He wore beige drawstring pants and an orange and black West African dashiki.
    “Hey there, Love.” Tom took a seat in the plastic chair. “I’m sorry ta see ya havin a hard time.” Love looked away at the ceiling and sucked his bottom teeth. “I wanted ta come say good-bye. I’m still angry about ya hittin me and Rick, but I didn’t want ya ta leave and think that I’d always be angry” Love looked at a scar on his own leg. Tom leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees, and rested his chin in his hands. Right behind Love’s head was the tiny hole in the wall that, four years earlier, Love had dug with a nail he’d managed to sneak in. Tom had held him in his lap and pried the nail from his fingers.
    “I really hope things go well for ya at your grandmother’s. I heard her house is very nice. I think you’re capable of succeeding.” That was the line the therapist had said wouldn’t put too much pressure on him. Love let out a long, aggravated breath; he’d heard the rhetoric so often that he used it at the talent show as his imitation of White people.
    The other children in the house were transitioning for school. They looked into the office one by one on their way to the bathroom to brush their teeth. Tom rubbed his forehead. “Anyway, I didn’t come here ta lecture ya about things you’ve heard a million times.”
    The staff turned off the TV in the den, and the house went silent. The other children were sitting on the couch, and then they were called to line up at the door.
    “Chris, you may line up,” said a staff member. Chris walked to the door in an exaggerated gangsta swagger. “No. Go back to the couch and try it again, without the dramatics. No. Now take a time-out at the blue wall for not following directions.” There was a possibility during a time like this that every kid in the house would go off and have to be restrained, just to let off some steam. They knew from the other kids who had left that it was likely they wouldn’t see Love again, and there was no telling what kind of maniac would move into the house in his place. But Chris went to his time-out corner, hit the wall once, and then remained calm.
    Love could hear every sound in the living room and imagine every move, down to the nervous smiles on the kids’ faces.
    “At least ya don’t have ta put up with this anymore,” Tom said.
    Love didn’t answer.
    “Just try and keep outta trouble.”
    “Whatever.”
    “Listen. Rick could have pressed charges against ya for breaking his nose and ya’d be in juvenile hall again, right now.”
    “So?”
    “Oh yeah, I forgot, ya don’t care about that crybaby shit. Come on, man. I’m not telling ya this as a staff. I can’t tell ya what ta do anymore. I’m tryin ta give ya the best honest advice I can. Ya can’t go around doin that kind of shit if ya want ta have a chance in life. No college is gonna look at ya if ya’ve been in jail. I’d like ta see ya in the newspapers sometime: ‘Dr. Love LeRoy talks ta bugs.’ The Nobel Prize in bug studies, or whatever it is you call it.” Tom waited for Love to respond.
    “E-n-t-o-m-o-l-o-g-y,” Love spelled.
    “Right, entomology.”
    Another staff came in from the den. “Okay, man, the kids are in the van. We’re taking off. Karl’s gonna stay back with you.” Tom nodded his head.
    Love stared at the carpeted floor