The Quiet Game Read online

  The Quiet Game

  A Novel by

  Cassandra Hallman

  To my Husband,

  thank you for always telling me to do

  what I want.

  Chapter One

  Jaxon

  The door of my room swings open and Chelsea, my foster mom for the last 2 years, walks in. In one hand she holds, as always, a lit-up cigarette. With the other hand she is holding something I did not expect in a million years. A little girl with big blue eyes and blond hair pulled into pig tails on both sides of her head. The little girl is dressed in some pink leggings and a yellow washed out shirt that's about three sizes too big on her. Chelsea sits the little girl in front of me. After she straightens up she pats the side of her shirt as if to make sure that the little girl didn’t stain or wrinkle it. Then she takes a drag of her cigarette and puffs out a big cloud of smoke into my room.

  “Jaxon, this is Elisa, you keep her quiet. Come and get me if her diaper smells like shit”, she says before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

  I’m only seven years old but I have been taking care of myself since I can remember, so I guess it is a good a time as any to start my babysitting career. Elisa sits in front of me looking confused and out of place. Her big blue eyes are fixed on me with a questionable expression. I have no clue how old she is but she looks more baby than child. My tiny room, where I spend most of my time doesn’t have much to offer. Not to me, or to her. I have some old toy cars, broken superhero figures, and a stack of library books the school lets me keep because they are too messed up to rent out. I have a bed and a nightstand, this is the extent of my room contents. During the school year there is more.

  My teachers will usually give me extra snacks to take home and I will get at least two books a day from the school library but now that I am on summer break I don’t have anything to eat in my room at all. Most kids look forward to the time off from school but I always dread it. It means I get less of everything. Less to eat, less books to read, less human contact, less things to do in general. I learned quickly after being placed with Chelsea to keep to myself and stay out of her way. As long as I don’t bother her she doesn’t bother me and that is better than my last foster family. That is the reason why I am so surprised to see this little person sitting in front of me. Why would she agree to take in someone so young? She hates kids, especially when she has to deal with them. That's why I am the only one she has kept around for so long. There have been other foster kids but they never got the memo of her not wanting to be bothered.

  It is after dinnertime so I’m hoping the case worker at least fed the girl before dropping her off in this hell hole. Chelsea wouldn’t be happy if I left my room again today. It is Friday and she probably has some guy coming over.

  I grab a book from my nightstand and start reading out loud. I’m a good reader since that is most of my entertainment, but I am used to reading in my head. It is odd to hear my own voice echo in this tiny bare walled room as I read to Elisa. She just sits there stoically and listens. I wonder if anyone has ever read to her. I don’t remember anyone reading to me. The book doesn’t have any pictures so there is nothing to show her. When I get to a funny part I try to make my voice sound silly to make it more interesting to her. As soon as I change my voice Elisa starts giggling, her high wind chime like voice filling my room. I keep reading like this for a while, changing my voice in different ways for different characters. Elisa rubs her eyes and her face scrunches up in a big yawn. Its already dark outside now, so she must be tired I realized.

  There is only one bed in my room but she is small and I highly doubt Chelsea is going to come and get her. I take her hand. “Come on its time to go to sleep.”

  She takes my hand unafraid and pushes herself up to stand with the other. I walk her over to my bed and lay her down. I cover her up with my blanket. The only one I have in my room. She immediately snuggles up in a little ball on the middle of my bed and closes her eyes. It doesn’t take long for her breathing to even out and I know she is sleeping. I watch her for a bit before my eyes get heavy as well and I lay next to her in the bed. I don’t take the blanket from her or try to get under it, its July and we don’t have the best air-conditioning so I’m fine without. I close my eyes and almost drift off when I feel her move closer to me, cuddling up to my arm. It feels weird having someone laying next to me, touching me like this. I am so used to sleeping alone that this is as foreign as an alien nuzzling my side. Soon the weirdness turns into something else. Something I don’t quite know or understand. All I know is that I like this warm fuzzy feeling in my chest.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The next few weeks go by in a flash. Elisa stays with me in my room most of the time. Chelsea changes her diaper 2 times a day and changes her clothes on the one day the case worker comes to check on us. That is the extent of Chelsea's contact with Elisa. I’m the one feeding her, playing with her all day, reading stories and tucking her in at night. Eliza doesn’t talk yet, I’m not sure if she is supposed to at her age but she seems to understand everything I tell her. Listen intently to the same story I’ve read to her 100 times by now. I think she is unusually quiet for a little kid. Maybe she somehow senses that her crying would not be appreciated here. The one time I came to Chelsea crying because I cut my finger while cutting an apple, I got rewarded with a swift kick in the ribs. My finger only hurt for a day but my ribs hurt for a week.

  Usually I look forward to going back to school, but not this time. I nervously count the days until I will be going back to school. If I’m in school that means Elisa is here, alone, with Chelsea. The case worker comes again today and asked me how I was doing. I tell her I was doing fine as I always do. This time I want to say more though, I want to tell her that I am scared. Scared that Chelsea will hurt Elisa like she hurt the last two kids who stayed here and bothered her. I want to tell her that Elisa is too young and that she needs to take her away. I want to tell her a lot of things, but I don’t. I tell myself that she wouldn’t have believed me anyways or that things would just get worst. I try to bury the real reason deep inside my mind because that truth is going to kill me if something happens to Elisa because of me.

  The night before I go back to school I twist and turn in bed unable to go to sleep. I look at the small body laying next to me breathing evenly. She looks so peaceful, so innocent and precious. I think she has been happy the last few weeks. I know I have been happier than I have ever been. Having someone with me in here made me realize how lonely I was before. When I finally go to sleep I dream about having a family. A real family that loves me and takes care of me. A mom that bakes cookies for me and a dad who plays ball with me in the backyard. Elisa is there too, wearing clean clothes and eating the fresh bakes cookies. In this dream I feel safe, for myself and for Elisa.

  When I wake up in the morning I feel anything but. I feel like I swallowed a brick that is now weighing me down when I walk out the door. I look back one more time where I left Elisa sitting on my bed, alone.

  “Just stay in here and be quiet, OK? I will be back with food and some new books soon,” I tell her and give her a reassuring smile.

  She is holding one of my superhero figures and following me with her big blue eyes as I leave the room. Time goes by at a snail's pace today. Every time I look at the clock on the wall only a few minutes have past even though it feels like hours. I can’t stop thinking about Elisa and how she is by herself in my room, probably hungry, maybe even hurt. Please don’t be hurt. I think to myself over and over again like a silent prayer in my head. When the bell finally rings at the end of the day I’m the first one out the door. I usually take my time going home but today I almost run the entire way, only slowing down when I have to catch my bre
ath.

  I hear it as soon as I walk in the hallway of our apartment complex. A high pitch cry of a small child. Not the cry of a child that is having a tantrum and wants their mommy. No, this is the unmistakable cry of pain. I run to the apartment door and start banging on it furiously. When Chelsea opens I basically push her to the side and storm in.

  “Hey you little shit!” She yells.

  I open the door of my room and see Elisa sitting on the floor, her tiny fingers still wrapped around my superhero figure. Blood is trickling down the side of her face, coming from a big gash on her forehead. Her normally big blue eyes are small and red from crying and tears are still rolling down her cheek. I step closer, carefully I inspect the wound. When I’m a few inches from her face, her crying turns into a quiet sob as if me being close somehow calms her. I take a shirt out of my closet and softy push it on her forehead.

  “I’m sorry, Elisa”, is all I can push past the lump in my throat. What else could I possible say to her. I never ask Chelsea what happened, mostly because I don’t want to know and also because it doesn’t matter. Either way, Elisa is not safe here.

  That night I didn’t sleep at all. I just sat in my bed holding her on my lap, knowing that this was the last time I would ever see her. I wish I was older and stronger so I could always keep her safe. What a cruel world we live in, where this little creature who can’t protect herself has no-one but a seven-year-old boy.

  In the morning I get dressed with a heavy heart. Elisa is sitting on my bed watching me. When I’m done and head for the door I turn one last time to look at her. I can’t bring myself to say anything. Can’t explain what’s going to happen. Can’t tell her goodbye. She looks me straight in the eye when she opens her mouth and said, “Jaxon.”

  She doesn’t say anything else, but she doesn’t have to. The way she says my name is a plea in itself. She doesn’t want me to go, but I have to. It's all I can do to help her now. There is a pain in my chest I have never felt bevor.

  I run to my school, not even stopping to catch my breath. My lungs are burning by the time I get there. I go to the first teacher I see and tell her everything.

  Chapter Two

  Elisa

  The time on my alarm clock reads 11:05. That means I haven’t eaten anything in over 24 hours now. My stomach is cramping from hunger but I know there still won’t be anything in the kitchen. Jackie and Brandon are too drunk to go anywhere and probably spend all their money on booze anyways. I walk to the window because I am too hungry to go to sleep. Its dark outside, the only light coming from the moon since the street lamps are mostly broken on our street. I catch my reflection in the glass, I’m 12 but I look like I’m eight or nine. I have always been small for my age. Malnutrition, a doctor once told me.

  The hinges on my window make a squeaky noise when I move them, I quietly push up my window to get a little fresh air. Instead of the brisk spring air I was expecting a savory meat smell hits me. At first, I thought it must be my imagination playing tricks on me but after another moment I am certain that that's what I’m smelling. I suck in a deep breath and my stomach growled in response. I open my window further and hang my head out to see where it comes from. I don’t see anything but I can hear distant laughter. I’m on the first floor so I could easily jump out of my window and investigate further. Someone is probably grilling at the front of the apartment complex. Maybe they would even let me have something to eat. This is probably a horrible idea. This is not the greatest neighborhood. Some bad people live here. My stomach growls again, louder than I thought was possible. Maybe I could just take a peek from afar. Maybe it's a nice family who is celebrating someone’s birthday and they wouldn’t mind giving me some leftovers.

  I pull on some shorts and a long sleeve shirt. I don’t have shoes in my room but I don’t mind walking in the grass. I go out the window feet first and lower myself down. I start heading in the direction the voices are coming from. I have to turn twice and weave around the buildings until I finally see them. I walk close to the wall now, staying in the shadows so I can’t be seen. When I’m close enough to get a good look. I stop and listen. There are three teenage boys sitting around a little makeshift campfire. They are holding sticks with hot dogs speared over the fire. My mouth is watering, but now that I see they are boys and not a family I’m more than sure that this is a bad idea. I can only see two of the three guys faces. The other one has his back turned to me, but I can tell by the way they sit and talk what kind of teenagers they are. Troublemakers. Just then I decided to go back when one of the boys looked in my direction, he squints his eyes and holds up a flashlight. The light hits and blinds me instantaneously. I hold up my hand to cover my eyes.

  “Who the hell are you?” One of the boy's yells.

  I don’t know what to say or do so I just stand there like a deer in headlights for something that feels like an eternity.

  “Well at least come over here and talk to us little girl.” The boy who had his back turned to me a minute ago says. He is wearing a baseball cap so I still can’t see his face covered by the shade. Not sure what his facial expression gives away, but I think about turning around and running away for a second. I realized that if they would decide to chase me I wouldn’t make it far anyway so instead I slowly walk over to them. I sit between two of the boys. I chose the spot with the most room in between on purpose. Now I can see all three boys and all of them looking at me. They are maybe 16 or 17 years old. The one with the flashlight looks amused. The one who told me to come over looks excited, like he is about to open a present. The third one just looks bored.

  “What are you doing out so late, all by yourself?” Flashlight boy ask.

  I just shrug instead of answering. I don’t want to waste my words. I want to look at him, read him, but I can’t help but look at the hot dog he is holding.

  “You want this? Are you hungry?” He asks, holding up his stick.

  All I can do is nod.

  A wicked smile spread over his face. “What are you willing to do for this?”

  Baseball cap guy lets out an agreeable, “yeah, what do we get in return?”

  Of course, I have nothing to offer them so I shrug apologetical.

  “I know something you could do for me,” he says with a taunting smile. “Come here and hold my beer.” They are both laughing while the third boy still looks bored. He doesn’t even look at me anymore. Instead he is watching his hot dog roast in the fire.

  I get up and walk over to the boy who holds out his beer to me. I take it and stand next to him unsure what to do. I don’t have a good feeling about any of this. The way the two boys are looking at me right now gives me the creeps.

  “You know what, actually I’m done with that beer, so why don’t you go ahead and finish it for me. We shouldn’t waste it, don’t you agree?”

  “We don’t like wasting things.” The other boy agreed.

  I look at the beer can in my hand. It’s less than half full but I am not sure if it would get me drunk or not. I definitely don’t want to be drunk. Baseball cap boy grabs my hand that holds the can and guides it to my mouth.

  “Come on, don’t be shy,” he snickers.

  I take a deep breath and a small sip of the beer. I want to stop drinking as soon as the fuzzy, bitter liquid hits my tongue but the boy holds the can, tipping it so I would not have a choice but to drink it all. I finish what's left in the can. The two boys that made me drink alcohol are full on laughing now while I stand there wishing I would have never left my room. My head starts spinning and my stomach feels funny and warm when one of them asks,

  “What’s your name little girl?”

  “Elisa” One, I count in my head. My name comes out so quietly I can barely hear it myself.

  “Speak up”, he said and it almost sounds like there is a threat behind it.

  “Elisa” Two, this time I manage to speak loud enough for them to hear.

  “Come here”, one of the other boys demands from the side with an unusu
al urgency. I look up to see it's the boy who looked bored just minute ago. Now he is looking at me in anticipation. My legs move before I decided to go to him. Maybe I just want to get away from the creep who just mad me drink my first beer or maybe it's something else that draws me to him but before I can think about it too much I’m standing in front of him. I am small and he is tall so even though he is sitting and I am standing our faces are not that far apart.

  “Here, eat,” he says and hands me his hot dog.

  I grab it and take a greedy bite before he can change his mind. He looks at me with his dark blue eyes with an expression I am unable to read. I close my eyes when the flavor explosion hits my taste buds. I don’t know when I am going to get something to eat next so I slow down my chewing to savor this. Suddenly I feel something touching my forehead. My eyes fly open and I realize that it is the boy's fingers that are brushing a strand of hair away from my face. He is so gentle it almost tickles. His dark blue eyes looking into mine. It is not until his hand falls away and I suck in an audible breath that I notice I had stopped breathing for a few seconds. His expression softens and changes into something that almost looks like relief.

  “You shouldn’t be out here so late. Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

  With that he gets up and starts walking in the direction I came from.

  “Come on dude, she was our entertainment,” one of the guys complained.

  “Party-Pooper”, added another.

  I start to follow the boy with the dark blue eye, because there is no way I’m staying with the two guys left here, who are still looking at me like I am some kind of toy they are about to take apart for fun. He walks much faster than me so I have to almost run to keep up.

  “What building is your apartment?”