At some point during the night, I woke up, dazed, and was confused. Loud voices echoed from the living room, cutting through the silence. I noticed my bedroom curtains were wide open, and the window slid ajar with the moon shining like a spotlight on the empty space where Kenny had fallen asleep on the floor beside me. I felt a surge of fear rush over me. I got up and walked down the hall, following the noise as my heart pounded in my chest. I saw my mom standing by the front door, her hands flailing as she told Officer Dennis a frantic, high-pitched story about Kenny getting kidnapped.
Officer Dennis, Bucoda's police officer, was the one who always showed up to deal with Mom's frequent breakdowns and delusional stories. His relationship with her went back to the years she was still married to my dad when the domestic disputes and her unraveling mental health first began to spill into public view. He had been called out to the house again and again, trying to sort through the chaos of shouting matches, paranoia, and long nights of confusion. After countless calls, his tolerance had worn thin. By the time we were living with Mom again, his visits carried less of a sense of help and more of weary obligation, as though he had already spent years wading through waters that never calmed. "Sit down and shut up!" He yelled. His voice was harsh and unforgiving. Neither of them noticed me. I glanced over at Kenny, who was sitting on the couch, watching them intently and wide-eyed. I went and stood by him, trying to piece together what was happening. "He came through the window!" Mom screamed, describing how she then went outside and circled the house to find Kenny with a Black man who was holding a knife. The story was terrifying, but I had heard enough of my mom's paranoid tales to know they didn't always reflect reality. Still, the fear in Kenny's eyes made it clear that something had happened.
I climbed onto the couch with Kenny, sitting as close as I could. "Did that really happen?" I whispered. Kenny nodded slowly; his body sunken into the couch, half-frozen with fear. I tried to get him to explain, but he couldn't focus long enough. I didn't know how long he had been awake or what he had endured before this point. Kenny just sat and stared wide-eyed at Mom and Officer Dennis as they yelled, Mom's arms waving frantically, while Dennis constantly interrupted, telling her to shut up and calm down. It was clear he wasn't even trying to hear her out.
Then he called Kenny and I to come with him. I felt the urge to grab some of my toys and a blanket but didn't say anything. Officer Dennis reached down and took both of our hands, leading us out into the pitch-black night. My mom was frantic and sobbing. We didn't know where we were going or what would happen. I felt overwhelmed with uncertainty as Kenny and I climbed into the passenger seat of the police car, sharing the space without seat belts. Through the window, I watched my mom as we pulled away, standing in the doorway, swallowed by the porch light, her face streaked with tears, unraveling in the silence we left behind. We sat quietly, staring out into the night, never saying a word. Dennis made a call over the police radio, and I could only understand that we had a destination. We pulled off onto a long dirt road, the headlights illuminating a single brown mobile home with a small wooden porch. No other houses were in sight. The yard was littered with old cars, motorcycles, and odds and ends.
"Here, you can have some of this," Officer Dennis said, setting a half-drunken can of root beer onto the dashboard in front of us. He opened the door, and I panicked. I didn't want him to leave us alone in the car, but I just said, "Okay." I was afraid of the dark and of what might be lurking in the dense surrounding forest. I watched him closely as he made his way to the front door and disappeared inside, the door closing behind him with a final thud.
The mobile home windows glowed with an amber hue, casting eerie shadows that danced on the curtains. I squinted, trying to make out the pictures covering the paneled walls inside. The anticipation of when Dennis would return seemed to be worse than any emotion, I had felt that night, and the pressure of panic slowly rose inside me. The air in the car was stale and growing cooler, adding to my discomfort.
Out of curiosity I lifted the can of root beer and peered inside into the black hole. Disgust and my mom's paranoid warnings of germs ran through my head, and I quickly set it back on the dashboard, feeling like I had already been contaminated. The thirst and hunger began gnawing at me, making the wait feel even more unbearable.
Outside, the distant sounds of night creatures and the rustling of leaves filled the silence. I followed every sound as though locating and identifying it could minimize any lurking threat. The minutes dragged on, each one stretching into what felt like an eternity. My heart pounded in my chest, and my hands felt clammy against the cool vinyl of the seat.
Finally, the door creaked open, and Dennis reappeared. Relief washed over me, and the exhaustion that had been held at bay began to take over. I studied his face as he walked towards the car, noticing a hint of a smile and his body movements less tense. The tension in my own body began to ebb away.
Dennis opened the patrol car door and greeted us warmly as he got in. "Sorry about that, kids. You guys doing, okay?" He asked. His voice was gentle and reassuring. Kenny and I nodded and smiled back somberly. Our earlier fear is still lingering but starting to fade now.
As we drove, the car got warmer, enveloping me in a cocoon of comfort. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the gentle sway of the car lulled me into a state of drowsiness. My eyelids grew heavy, and I fell asleep, Kenny already asleep against my shoulder, the earlier panic slowly dissolving into the warmth and safety of the night.
With only the clothes on our backs, Kenny and I were dropped off at a foster home.
