Taken Away Read online

  BROTHERS

  TAKEN AWAY

  THIS PLACE IS NOT MY HOME

  NOT HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS JUST MAYBE

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  Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Bermudez, Cyn.

  Title: Taken away / Cyn Bermudez.

  Description: New York : West 44, 2019. | Series: Brothers Identifiers: ISBN 9781538382295 (pbk.) | ISBN 9781538382301 (library bound) | ISBN 9781538383155 (ebook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Foster home care--Juvenile fiction. | Electronic mail messages--Juvenile fiction. | Siblings--Juvenile fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.B476 Ta 2019 | DDC [E]--dc23

  First Edition

  Published in 2019 by Enslow Publishing LLC

  101 West 23rd Street, Suite #240 New York, NY 10011

  Copyright © 2019 Enslow Publishing LLC

  Editor: Theresa Emminizer Designer: Sam DeMartin

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer.

  Printed in the United States of America

  CPSIA compliance information: Batch #CS18W44: For further information contact Enslow Publishing LLC, New York, New York at 1-800-542-2595.

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  My new foster home!

  My new foster mom made a rice dish.

  Like the one Momma makes. The sweet one. Arroz con leche. Only she called the dish something else. A Filipino word. The rice almost tasted like Momma’s but without the cinnamon. Momma had arroz con leche on the stove that morning. When the police came. I had bugged her for it all week. She was mad because I put too much cinnamon in it. I had only wanted to help. I’m sorry for that. For the way I’m annoying all the time. Maybe if I hadn’t bugged her so much...

  My new foster mom’s name is Susan. John is my new foster dad. Susan always smells like Jergens lotion. John smells like Abuelo’s cologne. Old Spice. I don’t mind it. Their scents cover the cabbage and fish smell from downstairs. There is always cooked rice. The way Momma always made beans.

  I cried when Susan served me her rice dish. I wiped the tears from my cheeks as fast as I could. But she knew. She asked me if I was okay. I didn’t want to tell her anything. Just like we promised. They don’t need to know our business! She told me not to be scared. I wasn’t scared, Victor. I really wasn’t. I just miss Momma so much. And you. And our sisters. Susan told me your foster home is 45 minutes away. Vanessa and Sara are 30 minutes away. I hate being so far from everyone. I might as well be on the other side of the world! Why can’t we be together?

  Seeing that rice dish made me miss Momma an awful lot. But it was more than that too. That day, when the cops came, I had just sat down to eat a hot bowl. I didn’t care that Momma was mad about the cinnamon. That was my favorite part. You opened the door, remember? The officers scared me. The way they stomped into our apartment. Like their shoes were made of metal or something.

  Susan thought maybe I was just sad because of Momma being gone. John told her not to pry. He pulled her into the next room to “discuss her tone.” They were in the living room speaking with hushed words. I was in the kitchen. I could hear them, though. John told her to give me space. Susan thought I should be talking about what happened. She said not to bottle up my emotions. She said that’s what makes people crazy.

  I don’t want to be crazy, Victor. I was tempted. I almost told Susan about the rice. About that morning when Momma was taken away. How the bowl fell to the floor when that officer came into our apartment. I almost told her how the bowl shattered. The rice splattered everywhere, even the ceiling! Momma would be so mad if she saw that mess. You would too. I would’ve cleaned up the mess, but those cops hauled us off. When we get home, I’ll clean the rice good. I’ll fix it. I promise. If we ever go home. Will we?

  I didn’t tell her anything. I was strong even though I was scared about the going crazy thing. I sucked up my tears. Swallowed them right down. I can be strong like you. I ignored her. Susan let it go after a few minutes of silence. She knew I wasn’t going to crack. I was glad that John told her to give me space.

  Everything is different here. Susan and John sound funny when they talk. You know how Momma speaks with an accent? Well, the Benavides are worse! They’re always mixing “B” and “V” and Susan says “SHE” when she means “HE.” John is always singing. There are all kinds of knickknacks around. Susan collects dolls. Even troll dolls. The porcelain dolls are the creepiest.

  In the dark, sometimes I feel porcelain eyes staring at me. One time I heard shuffling feet behind me. When I turned around, no one was there. Susan and John have an old house. Upstairs, it smells like old carpet. The floorboards creak.

  Last night was the worst. I couldn’t sleep. I was anxious because I knew was I starting school today. School was different, too. There were a lot of white kids, some Filipinos like Susan and John, but only two other Mexican kids. I smiled at them, but they didn’t even talk to me. I wanted to fade away. Disappear completely.

  If I tell you something, you promise you won’t get mad? Please don’t be mad. Something happened at school today. Something bad.

  I got into a fight. And not just words. I got into a fistfight. This white kid named Jake knew about Momma. Knew she was arrested and in prison, because of what she did. I don’t know how he knew. He called Momma a name. I won’t repeat it! It was rude and awful. The anger just boiled up to my brain. I couldn’t think about anything. Not right or wrong or how I’d get punished.

  I punched him. Right in the stomach, Victor. I gave him a good one, too. I heard the air push out of his mouth. I felt it push out of his stomach. He nearly dropped to the ground. He hunched over and cried. He cried a lot. My teacher was very angry. She kept shaking her head. She stared at me like I was some stray dog begging for scraps. I wanted to punch her, too. The anger left me. I sort of feel bad for that kid. All those tears he cried. But I also didn’t care. He shouldn’t have said what he did about Momma.

  What’s it like where you’re at? I gotta go. I hear Susan calling me down to dinner.

  TTYS

  ~ Isaac

  P.S. John let me use an old Polaroid camera. The kind that spits instant pictures. It’s so cool!

  John has a laptop and a scanner. So I can scan the Polaroid pictures. Check it out.

  PPS. I wish we had cell phones. Email is for old people. And it’s not enough.

  1 Attachment

  Filipino_Rice.jpg

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Re: My new foster home!

  A fight? I told you to stay out of trouble. Momma wouldn’t like you fighting. She won’t care about the rice. Not after everything that’s happened.

  But Momma will be okay. You’ll see. They’ll let her go. Then we will get to go home. All of us. Vanessa and Sara, too. You did good, Isaac. By not saying anything to your foster keepers.

  They’re your keepers! Not your parents. Not a mom or a dad. They’re there to “keep” you in one piece until you’re old enough to boot.

  I have just one foster keeper. Her name is Cookie. But she wants me to call her Ms. Cutter. That’s her name—COOKIE CUTTER. She said her momma named her that. Weird, huh? I wanted to say, and... ? But didn’t want to get mouthy. Momma always hated when I said that to her. Momma would tell me not to get mouthy. And I don’t want any trouble. So I shut my mouth.

  I waited for her to tell me more. Like her momma named her that because she was born in a donut store. Or while her mom was eating cookies. Or because
.. .I don’t know. I figured something weird like that. But she didn’t. She just said, “My mother, God bless her soul, named me that.”

  And then she went on about Jax (that’s her dog). Ms. Cutter is super old and her hair is gray. She stinks like an ashtray and sounds like Fat Carl. Remember him? He used to fix cars with Dad before Dad died. Her voice is rough like his. Like sandpaper. Dad said it was because he smoked like a chimney.

  Ms. Cutter talks a lot. Just not to me. Except to give me more chores. More and more, all the time. Do the dishes, sweep the floor, vacuum, dust. D oes she do anything?

  I guess I’m luckier than you, though. At least she doesn’t try and get me to talk about Momma. If she did, I’d tell her to back off.

  I’m sorry you got into a fight. I’m sorry that kid was mean to you about Momma. Are you scared? Maybe they’ll finally place us together. That’s what you say to your worker. That’s the lady who took us from Momma. Maybe she’ll finally see that we need to be together. I hope.

  I like my new school. No one knows about Momma there. I’m glad for it. I made a few friends. We sit together far away from everyone, under an old tree. We call it “the field” because it’s near the track field. You should see the tree we sit under. It’s huge. The tree is really old. The bark on the trunk looks like an old witch’s face.

  Remember that story Momma told us? The one about an old witch who tried to eat a couple of kids in the forest? That’s what I think of, anyway. I try not to look at the tree, but I can’t help it.

  I have Dad’s old camera. So I took a picture of it. Crazy, huh?

  Anyway, I’m glad your keepers have a laptop you can use. Back home, we all had to share Momma’s old phone to go online, remember?

  Ms. Cutter has a computer too. One of those desktop ones, like in old movies. It looks like a robot head.

  I have to clean the living room if I want to eat dinner. There ain’t ever enough around here. Vacuuming takes forever. Her vacuum doesn’t work good.

  TTYS

  Victor

  1 Attachment

  Old_Witch_Tree.jpg

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Subject: I ate squid

  Yikes! That tree is scary! The witch face looks really mean. I wouldn’t want to sit near that tree. Maybe I would if I had friends. I don’t have any friends at my new school.

  I remember the story Momma read. “Hansel and Gretel.” The story was about a brother and sister getting lost in the woods. That’s when the witch finds them. Momma would act out the story. When she read the part of the witch, she’d make her voice sound old. Then she’d laugh like a witch. She always had the best stories.

  I don’t have a lot of chores. Just keep my room clean. I help John with the yard sometimes. Sometimes I offer to help clean other rooms. Susan always says it’s okay. There’s a lot of food here. I wish I could give you some.

  Most of the food is good. Susan cooks all the time. She’s always cooking fish or seafood. Like shrimp. One time she made little octopuses! John said they were squids, not octopuses. The squids had a lot of legs. The legs looked weired

  Tentacles—that’s what John called the legs. The tentacles had a bunch of tiny suction cups on them. Susan told me to try it. I didn’t want to. She said, “How do you know you don’t like it, if you don’t try it?” Made sense. I tasted the squid. It was chewy. I gagged a little bit. She didn’t make me eat any more of it. She made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich instead.

  I spoke with the worker. She said they’d move me to a different place if I kept having trouble. She said I won’t be with you, though. I don’t wanna move. I like it here. I mean, I’d rather be with Momma and you and Vanessa and Sara. Or even with just you, if they’d let me. But if I’m

  going to be away from you all, I’d rather be here. Susan and John sound funny and smell funny. But they’re nice to me. I don’t mind the weird food.

  I don’t mind that Susan tries to talk to me about Momma. Maybe I can talk to her about some things. Like how much I miss Momma. I do miss Momma an awful lot. Susan hugs me when I cry. I know I’m too old for that. I know 11-year-olds shouldn’t cry like babies. But still, Susan’s hug makes me feel better.

  I hate my new school. The kids there are mean. They’re jerks. More kids are saying mean things about Momma. They say mean things about me, too. They say I’ll end up in jail! I don’t want to go to jail.

  I eat my lunch in the bathroom. I hide in a stall. I pick my legs up and breathe real quiet. I’m afraid I’ll get angry again and punch someone. If I do that, they’ll send me away.

  Will they send me to jail? Same one as Momma?

  I miss my friends at my old school. I miss my teacher. I miss our room and our video games. I miss you. I even miss Vanessa and Sara, even though I used to think our little sisters were annoying. I miss Momma most of all.

  1 better go to bed now.

  TTYS

  ~ Isaac

  P.S. I’m going to have a foster brother. Wish it could be you.

  2 Attachments

  Little_Squid.jpg

  PB&J.jpg

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Subject: I’m hunting a werewolf!!!!

  You’re not going to jail, dummy. You have to do something really bad. Like a crime. Fighting is not good. But not a crime.

  And what do you mean, foster “brother”? They are NOT your family. I worry about you. You’re getting too comfortable with Susan and John. Your keepers are getting a new paycheck.

  That’s it. Ms. Cutter calls me her paycheck. That’s what we are to them. They keep us. Make sure we are safe and alive until we’re old enough. Then the State don’t have to worry about us. I don’t wanna be mean. I want you to keep to yourself. Don’t tell Susan anything about how you feel. Because if you do, you’ll get sadder. Momma needs us to be brave.

  Ms. Cutter’s got three of us. Me, a black kid named George, and a white girl named Michelle. Michelle is the oldest. She’s almost 18. She doesn’t talk to me except to call me a worm. Sometimes she yells at me to get out of her way. She says, “Move, worm.” She’s alway on the phone. It doesn’t matter what she’s doing. Chores, eating, watching TV I think she even showers with the phone.

  She talks on her cell phone even more than Ms. Cutter talks. Except when Ms. Cutter is talking about the neighbor down the street. Ms. Cutter will talk to anyone who’ll listen about old Mr. Burns. Momma would call her a gossip.

  Mr. Burns is creepy, though. He’s got a bunch of dried trees in front of his place. The paint on his house is peeling. Looks like he never waters the yard. He only comes out to get his mail. Walks real slow, too. Ms. Cutter thinks he’s some kind of zombie. Like I said, creepy. I pass his house on the way to school. I make sure to run fast!

  George is 16. George told me if I don’t fuss, Ms. Cutter won’t pay any attention to me. He said that was a good thing. Then I could do whatever I want. He said just don’t get caught and do my chores. He told me the same thing you did. The worker will move you if you get in trouble a lot. George said it happened to him three times! Twice for getting in trouble. Another time they moved him when he hadn’t done anything wrong.

  Anyway, that’s squid, huh? That thing looks really weird. Squid might be better than what I eat here. Ms. Cutter makes the same old food. We get cereal for breakfast—the generic O’s with no sugar. A bologna sandwich for lunch. Dinner is some kind of meat with instant mashed potatoes. It’s usually meatloaf or hot dogs. Have you ever heard of dried milk? She serves me watery milk made from a powder! Now that’s gross. Yuck!

  I do what George told me. I stay out of trouble and do my chores. Ms. Cutter pays no attention to me, mostly. I might as well be invisible. I spend my spare time with one of my new friends. His name is Lucky. You’d like Lucky. His real name is Lucas. But everyone calls him Lucky. He’s funny, and has a really loud laugh. He lives down the street. Lucky th
inks Mr. Burns is “supernatural.” I asked him, “Like a zombie?” Because Ms. Cutter said he was dead. Lucky said no. According to this blog he read, Mr. Burns might be a shape-shifter.

  Like a werewolf. There are a lot of rabbits in this area. That would be plenty of food for Mr. Burns.

  Here, check it out:

  http://www.compendium-of-the-undead.com/how-to-tell-if-your-neighbor-is-a-werewolf.html

  Lucky thinks we should go exploring. See if we can find evidence. That way we can help the neighborhood and the rabbits! He wants to investigate tomorrow morning. We’ll probably take Jax with us.

  Jax is a nice-looking dog, huh? He loves jumping and playing. He follows me around everywhere. Lucky thinks Jax will be a big help. He said all the best detectives have s. Jax’ll help us find rabbit bones.

  There should be a lot of ‘em if that’s what Mr. Burns eats.

  All this talk of eating has made me hungry. I wish I could eat that peanut butter and jelly! Lots of peanut butter, just how I like it. My stomach will have to settle for a bologna sandwich. You know what sounds good? Momma’s rice and pork. Meatball soup and homemade tortillas. Fried chicken and real mashed potatoes. Fried beans, bacon, eggs, cereal with sugar, real milk!