Just Paul

Left. Right. Up the stairs. Right. Paul sometimes could not remember the direction to the main gate of the apartment complex. He had only been there for three months but tonight his feet guided him. He walked so he could get away. He wanted to get away from the apartment he had to stay in. He wanted to get away from the new school he had to go to. He wanted to get away from his life and for this moment he wanted to get away from the two adults who were keeping up with him and calling his name.

David’s deeper voice rang out, “Paul, where are you going?” The higher voice of Melody called out: “Whatever you want to do we still have to be safe and an apartment parking lot at night is not safe. You could get hit by a car!”

“Paul. Listen.” David’s voice called out again. “Running off like this will lead to you getting hurt or picked up by the police. If those things happen that will only mean moving to a different placement. You will have to get used to another new place which I know you hate. And we would miss you.”

Paul had slowed down enough for his two foster parents to catch up to him. Melody reached out to grab his hand but pulled back, hovering within arm’s reach of him. David was behind him. Paul saw the gate that would lead into the unknown, away from the pain. But David was usually right. Paul believed him when he said that out that gate would just be a new placement and more waiting. He looked up at the bright LED streetlights. Autosomal-dominant Compelling Helio-Ophthalmic Outburst (intentionally named for the acronym “ACHOO”) affected around thirty-five percent of the world’s population and caused them to sneeze after staring at a bright light such as the sun or a LED streetlight.

The gate opened and an SUV drove through. The bright headlights shone brightly into his eyes. Paul sneezed, bending forward as he did so. Melody shouted “Paul! STOP!” David’s arms came around his chest. They thought he was making a break for it. The arms snaked up his body in a full nelson. Paul could feel David’s muscles seem to tense up for more action, then the arms withdrew. Paul was free to cry. David and Melody let him cry for about a minute, out there slumped down in a parking space at 9:47 at night. They gently helped him walk back to the apartment.

Left. Down the stairs. Left. Rights. Inside. Paul remembered being handed a glass of water and drinking it. Melody was right: a nice glass of water was very soothing. In his room he sat sipping his water, eating a bag of Doritos, and catching snatches of what David and Melody were saying. He had heard David start to dial a number on his phone, most likely Paul’s case worker Amanda. They had told him before that running incidents would require them to call.

“…went too far, which I immediately regretted…”

They were telling Amanda how he had gone too far. But he had not. He had moved forward as he sneezed. They thought he was going through the gate and ‘going too far.’

“…just makes me scared that we won’t be able to keep him. We do love him and…”

He did not want to be considered too much for Paul and Melody. He did like it here even if he couldn’t always do what he wanted.

Today he had been upset about getting used to a new school. When he acted up, they had changed their plans. He had started walking to the car to get them to start driving but his feet had automatically carried him left, right, up the stairs, right. He had been really looking forward to going to…to the… Paul couldn’t remember where he had been so excited to go. So excited that he had escalated into conflict. What was it? It was Friday night and he was so excited to go to… … Blankity. Blankity. Blank. Nothing would come to him. He finished his Doritos and wiped his hands on his black pants leaving orange streaks. He started sketching a comic, hoping that the character Paul could help the real Paul remember. It was important to remember.

Paul drew a comic about himself and a big black dog. The more Paul tried to play with the dog, the meaner it got. There was nothing else to the comic and he liked it that way. He titled it “Me and…” He ended it in ellipses because that was how he visualized his thoughts not telling him where he had wanted to go. Paul liked to contrast things he made, and he was still thinking about the ellipses, which in his head he sometimes thought out as the words ‘dot dot dot.’ He sketched a comic of him babysitting three little girls all named Dot so he could title his comic ‘Me and Dot, Dot, Dot.’

Paul did not like getting used to new schools, and new places to live, or new foster parents. He had frequent nightmares about being lost in new places. The new places in the nightmares usually turned into places from his childhood, many times with an unsettling context. Common places were the backstage at his elementary school auditorium where he had been yelled at by a mean teacher and home in his bedroom where the door creaked in a peculiar way.

A shadow loomed over Paul’s memories. Mom had a boyfriend. A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. David was checking in on him that his teeth were brushed, and he was going to bed. “Big, scary things can happen, but we still have to stick to our bedtime champ.”

Paul could feel that he had bad dreams but as he chased the memories they evaporated. Melody provided him with a good breakfast and a long list of chores for the weekend as part of his punishment. He started on the dirtiest chores to get them out of the way. As he scrubbed stains out of toilets and scum out of sinks and scooped poop from the cat’s litter box he returned to last night’s comics. ‘Me and…’ returned with the big, black dog saying he was mean once and felt he could never be nice again.

David gathered a lot of trash for Paul to take out. Straight, left, right to the dumpster and then back to the apartment. He went straight, left, right, and back again two more times with big bags of garbage. He felt he must be the smelliest boy in the world.

As he returned from the final trip David was near the front door and started to speak. Paul could feel his eyes rolling, almost involuntarily. What now, as soon as he got back? “I knew you’d make it back, champ. How about you take a shower?” Paul almost said something to argue but remembered that he was the smelliest boy, so he took a shower.

He had a literal shower thought: David had said, “I knew you’d make it back.” And he asked Paul to leave the apartment several times after thinking Paul tried to run away last night. Paul did not know what to think.

Paul finished his shower still thinking. He ate lunch, still thinking. He did more chores, still thinking. David made some cookies and Paul washed those dishes too. Paul watched as David conducted his afternoon coffee ritual.

“Paul, sit down and rest a bit. You have been working hard. Have a cookie.”

Paul kept working on his chores. “These cookies are really good, and I think you should try one or two.” Paul worked on trusting what David had to say he so he sat down at the table and grabbed a cookie but did not eat. There was a struggle going on in his mind.

“David, I thought I was still in trouble.”

“That is correct,” came the reply. “And you will be for a few weeks. You did scare us last night with how you were acting.”

“So why can I have a cookie?” The words forced themselves out as Paul sought to understand the two people who were taking care of him. “If I am in trouble, why do I deserve cookies?”

David was silent for a moment. “We give you punishments to help grow that great boy that we know you are because we love you, Paul. We give you cookies because we love you and we know that kids like cookies. Well, most everyone likes cookies. Real young kids need to understand the world in terms of black and white. You are getting old enough to start seeing the world differently and that’s not a bad thing. Please don’t fall into the trap of thinking you will be all bad or all good.” Paul had a lot to think about.

Paul drew a black dog and a white dog trying to be friends. The black dog howled “I can’t be much of a dog, I’m too mean!”

Paul drew a Dalmatian. He drew the dog crying but then thinking the words “If I didn’t have black spots, I would not be a Dalmatian.”

Paul drew one last comic: one Paul was crying and had a thundercloud over his head. Another Paul was just Paul, but he held a book with the title ‘David’s Advice.’ The sad Paul said, “Bad things happened to me and I am afraid that makes me not human.” Paul-Just-Paul didn’t say anything, he set his book down and hugged sad Paul. The last panel was just Paul holding the book. He had a tear running down his face and a small black spot on his chest, but he was smiling.