PROLOGUE:
Heath Delgado sat up straight in bed and wiped the sleep from his eyes with the sleeve of his Spiderman pajamas. He reached over and turned off the blaring alarm. It was seven o’clock in the morning. Time to get up and get ready for school. He stretched before jumping out of bed and padding down the hall to the bathroom. After washing his hands and brushing his teeth, Heath made his way to his mother’s bedroom. He knocked lightly and pressed his ear to the door. It was silent. Heath slowly turned the knob, feeling grateful she hadn’t locked it this time. The last time had been scary. Somehow he had managed to pick the lock and open the door, but it had taken him hours to do it.
The room was totally dark. All the shades were closed. Not even a teeny tiny bit of light was visible. He made his way over to his mother’s bed. All he could see was a bit of her dark hair sticking up. She was completely buried under her comforter. He moved to the side of the bed and gave her a gentle nudge. She didn’t move a muscle!
“Mama. Wake up. It’s time for you to take me to the bus stop,” he said in a loud whisper.
No response. Mama didn’t like him to walk by himself. The neighborhood they lived in wasn’t very good. Bad people sold drugs near his school. He could get snatched by one of them. That’s what Mama always said. He wasn’t a baby. He could walk by himself, but Mama was afraid for him.
“Mama. I have to go! I’m hungry. I need breakfast.” His voice was much louder this time.
When Mama didn’t stir, he began to push at her with his hand. She didn’t budge, although he could hear her lightly snoring.
He hated this! Why couldn’t he just have a mom like everyone else who woke him up and made him pancakes and bacon before school? At this rate he knew she wasn’t getting up. Most of the time now she walked around like a zombie in one of those scary movies he wasn’t supposed to watch. Mama said he had to wait until he was at least ten to watch horror movies. She didn’t know that he’d already watched one on television one night when she was asleep. He’d been so scared afterward he had wet the bed.
Heath trudged into the kitchen and began making himself a bologna and cheese sandwich. He wrinkled his nose as he stared down at the slice of American cheese. It didn’t look so fresh, but he really didn’t have much of a choice. Heath put the sandwich in a brown paper bag. Mama hadn’t gone grocery shopping for weeks. There wasn’t milk or juice or much of anything. There was some stale cereal in the cupboard. He would have to go to the mini market and use all of the coins in his piggy bank to buy some milk and cereal. Sometimes when he went in the store he wanted to steal something because he was so hungry, but he knew it would be a sin. God wouldn’t like it and Heath wanted God to love him.
With a sigh he reached for the cereal box and took out a few handfuls, placing it in a bowl. He hated eating cereal dry but he had no choice. There was nothing else to eat. Mama didn’t cook anymore. Dinner was usually greasy French fries or hotdogs made in the microwave. Before she got sick she used to make arroz con pollo, empanadas and quesadillas. And for his birthday, there had always been churros. She’d always cooked with love. Heath let out a sigh. Tears slid down his face and he wiped them away with the back of his hand.
He wished he had a dad. One who would take him to baseball games and make tacos for him on Tuesday nights like his mom used to do. If he had a dad, then maybe it wouldn’t feel so lonely at home anymore. Heath could watch football with his father and maybe they could get Mama a really good doctor who could help her get out of bed. She called it “the blues” whenever it happened. Heath hated the blues because it changed his mother into a different person. She cried a lot and she couldn’t get out of bed. Sometimes her friend Hector would come over and he would bring her a big brown bag. Heath had peeked through the crack in her bedroom door and he’d seen Mama pulling out a bottle. He knew what it was. Liquor. And he knew Mama shouldn’t be drinking it straight from the bottle in the middle of the day. She would drink so much from the bottle that it made her sleepy.
Heath went back into his room and began getting dressed for school. He rummaged around in his drawers looking for something clean. He was running out of clean clothes to wear. Mama hadn’t gone to the laundry mat for a long time. Weeks and weeks. For the last few days he’d had to wash his underwear in the sink and put it on the radiator to dry. He was so angry at Mama. He hated her. She was lazy and selfish. And she wasn’t a good mother! Hot tears burned his cheeks. Heath didn’t know what to do with all the pain he was feeling. Sometimes it felt so overwhelming he wanted to punch something. Like right now at this moment he wanted to hit the wall in his closet. That’s what he did when things got really bad.
When he finished getting dressed, Heath grabbed his backpack and stuffed his lunch inside. He rooted around in the drawer until he found a key attached to a string. Heath took the key necklace and put it around his neck, stuffing it down his shirt so no one could see it. When he left the apartment, Heath pulled out the key and locked the door behind him. There were bad people who hung around and broke into apartments in the middle of the day. Mama used to be so careful about locking up, but now she didn’t seem to care about anything. Or anyone.
Sometimes he wondered if she still cared about him. Did she still love him?
When he turned the corner on to Washington Street, Heath saw that the bus had stopped and kids were already boarding. He ran as fast as he could, barely making it in time. Gus, the driver, shook his head when he let him on. “Good thing those little legs of yours can run real fast. We were about to leave.”
Heath nodded. He was so out of breath from running down the block he didn’t think he could utter a single word. He felt like he was carrying this huge weight on his shoulders. It wasn’t fair. He was only eight-years-old. Why was all of this happening to him?
For most of the school day Heath felt out of it. He felt sad. Miss Marshall, his homeroom teacher, pulled him aside before recess to talk to him. With her warm brown eyes and dark hair, Miss Marshall was the prettiest teacher in the whole school. Heath felt a tugging sensation in his chest every time he saw her. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he might love her. If he were older he would marry Miss Marshall. Then he’d get to see her every single day. Even on the weekends.
“Heath. Is something wrong? You don’t seem like yourself today.” Miss Marshall was looking down at him with her big brown eyes. Heath felt a huge lump in his throat.
He shook his head. “No. I’m fine. I just don’t like Mondays very much,” he mumbled.
Miss Marshall giggled. “Don’t tell a soul, but I don’t either.” She frowned at him. “Are you sure everything is okay at home? Your mother missed parents’ night and she hasn’t been sending in your permission slips on time.”
Tears pricked Heath’s eyes. It was so hard to hide what was going on at home with Mama. Miss Marshall cared about him. She always made a point to ask about how things were at home. But what would happen if he told her? He knew kids on his block who had been taken from their homes after teachers called the police. No matter how bad things had been lately, Heath didn’t want that to happen.
He didn’t hate Mama. Heath loved her with all his heart and soul. She was his whole life. But he was angry at her for not being the Mama he wanted her to be. The one she used to be. But he could never hate her. If he could, he would protect her. But he was just a little kid. He couldn’t even protect himself.
“Mama hasn’t felt well lately. But she’s better now,” he fibbed.
“You sure?” she asked, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Nothing else is going on?”
He nodded. “Yep. I’m sure. Can I go to recess now? I want to play kick ball.”
Miss Marshall smiled. Her teeth were white and perfect, just like her.
“Go on,” she said, nudging him toward the door.
Heath headed down the hall toward the exit. When he reached the door he turned back toward the classroom. Miss Marshall was standing there with her arms folded across her chest. She was staring at him with a strange look on her face. He pushed his way outside into the sunshine. Heath closed his eyes and let the sun wash over him. For the first time in a long time he felt warmth flowing through him. He hadn’t been to church in a long time, but it felt like God was shining down on him. This feeling wasn’t something he could share with the other kids. They would laugh him out of the playground. It didn’t matter what they thought. He still felt it. God was here. And maybe things were going to be all right after all.
Tomorrow he could pull aside Miss Marshall and tell her about all the things that were going wrong at home. He would make her promise to help Mama and not call the police. That way she wouldn’t get in trouble. He’d figured out a plan. Mama always said how smart he was. By the end of recess, Heath felt a lot better about everything.
At three o’clock when the bell rang, Heath raced outside to catch the bus. If he missed it, he’d have to walk all the way home by himself. Mama wouldn’t like that. Once the bus came to a stop, Gus stopped him before he got off the bus.
Gus frowned at him. “Hey. Doesn’t your Mama usually pick you up? I haven’t seen her in a while.”
Heath shrugged. “She’s sick.”
Gus gave him a funny look. “Make sure you go straight home, little man. Okay? These streets aren’t safe.”
Heath nodded and trotted down the steps. He passed by the bodega on the corner and wished he had some money to buy a candy bar or a bag of chips. Or a soda. He would give anything right now to have something cold to drink. Maybe he could go next door and visit Mrs. Rivera. She always had lots to eat and drink. She was super old, but also nice and generous.
When he reached his building, he walked upstairs to the second floor and took his key necklace from inside his shirt and unlocked the door. Everything was still inside. He let out a sigh. He had been hoping Mama would be waiting for him at the bus stop. But now, it seemed as if she wasn’t even up yet. Heath balled his fists at his side. He needed his mother to know what she was doing to them. He didn’t feel like he had much of a life anymore. Everything was twisted around now and upside down.
Heath walked toward his mother’s door and knocked gently. No answer. He twisted open the door and walked inside. The strong smell of alcohol reached his nostrils. How he hated the smell of it. Mama was on top of the sheets with her arms stretched on either side of her. When Heath reached out to shake her arm, his first thought was how cold she felt. She wasn’t warm like usual. Her skin felt like ice. Immediately he began to shake her harder than usual and calling out to her. “Mama. Mama. You’ve got to get up. Now! You’re scaring me, Mama. Please.” He turned toward her bedside table. There was an empty bottle of liquor and pills scattered nearby. Had they made her sick? He didn’t know what to do. If he called someone, maybe Mama would get in trouble. He might get taken away. But if he didn’t she could be really sick. Heath ran out of the room and out of the apartment. He went next door and began banging on the door. “Mrs. Rivera! I need your help!”
Within seconds the door was flung open. Mrs. Rivera stood there with her cane. “What’s wrong, Heath? You’re making quite a commotion.”
“It’s Mama,” he said, with trembling lips. “You need to call 911. She’s not breathing. And her body is ice cold.”
Mrs. Rivera’s eyes widened. “Let me grab my cell phone. You stay right here with me.”
“No,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t leave Mama alone. I need to get back to her.”
Heath sprinted back to the apartment. He went into his mother’s bedroom and reached for her hand, holding onto it tightly. “Please, God,” he prayed. “Don’t let Mama die. I love her so much. Please make her get better.”
A few minutes later Mrs. Rivera came into the bedroom, slowly making her way toward the bed with the use of her cane. “The ambulance should be coming soon,” she said in a soothing voice as she patted his back. She reached out and pressed her fingers against his mother’s neck. Mrs. Rivera let out a gasp. “Oh, Camila. Dios Mio.”
“What is it?” Heath asked, fear reaching out and placing a chokehold on his neck. For a moment he couldn’t breathe normally.
“It’s nothing.” She bit her lip. “Heath, your mother is very sick. I don’t know if—”
Heath placed his hands over his ears. He didn’t want to hear what he knew Mrs. Rivera was going to say to him. He glared at her. “She’s going to make it. She’s not going to die.”
All of a sudden there were people rushing into the room and pushing him aside so they could look at his mother. Heath struggled against one of the men dressed in uniform, but he was too little to get his way. He felt Mrs. Rivera’s loving arms embracing him.
“She’s gone, Heath. Your mother is in heaven now.”
Heath shook his head fiercely. “No!” he screamed. “It’s not true. She’s just sleeping. She’s been really tired lately. That’s all it is.” He tried to break away from her, but she held on to him with a firm grip. “Let me go!” he shouted. He was thrashing his arms about wildly.
“Shh, baby. Shh. I know how hard this is,” she crooned.
“Mama! Mama!” he cried out, watching as a sheet was placed over her body on the stretcher. He let out a wail full of pain and hurt and shock. Mama was gone. He didn’t understand it. This morning she’d been alive. He had heard her snoring. What had happened to her? Why had God taken her away from him?
He was all alone.
The next few days passed in a blur. He was able to spend the night with Mrs. Rivera, who cradled him until he fell asleep. When he woke up the next morning he wondered at first if it had all been a bad dream until he’d looked around him and realized he wasn’t at home. The smell of pancakes and bacon wafted in the air. Heath would give anything right now to be eating stale cereal in his own apartment with Mama standing nearby.
He let out a sob. He wasn’t going to see her again. At least not in this world. She would never again tell him how much she loved him. Or sing Spanish lullabies to him as he drifted off to sleep. She would never again help him with his homework or show him how to play the guitar.
He was all alone now.
That morning two ladies from CPS came to take him away. Although he was scared, Heath didn’t cry. He wasn’t sure he would ever cry again. All he felt was a deep sadness. It felt as if he was at the bottom of a big, dark hole with no way of climbing out.
Overdose. Depression. He didn’t know what those words meant, but it had to do with Mama. He’d heard the ladies from CPS talking about it. It had to do with how she had died. Heath folded his arms across his stomach and let out a sob. The tears kept coming and coming. They didn’t want to dry up. His belly hurt from crying. He missed his mother. He loved her so much. And now he was all alone. He didn’t have anybody to love him or take care of him.
Foster care. It sounded bad. He didn’t want to go live with the elderly couple he’d been introduced to by the case worker. Henrietta and George Smith. He had to sit with them for two hours and answer their stupid questions. She had squinty, mean eyes and a harsh voice. And George kept asking how much they would be paid. Heath knew they didn’t really want him. Not for real. They wanted the check.
Dear God. Please don’t let me have to live with them. I know I might never have a family again, but please let me be with people who want to love me. I know no one will ever love me like Mama, but even if they could love me a little bit it would be all right.
When Heath woke up the next morning, he was told that there was a family interested in adopting him. He was going to meet them as soon as he’d finished his breakfast. Heath cringed. He didn’t want to be adopted by the Smiths. He knew they didn’t like him. They’d only pretended to. When Heath was led into the visiting room, he looked around at the people sitting at tables. He didn’t see the Smiths. Perhaps they’d changed their minds. His case worker, Miss Jemison, led him over to a table by a window. As the sun shone through the window, it shimmered and glistened. A strange feeling came over Heath. The couple sitting at the table weren’t the Smiths and they didn’t look anything like them. They were smiling at him. Really, truly smiling. The woman was beautiful. Maybe the most beautiful woman Heath had ever seen in his life, except for Mama. And the man looked relaxed and his skin was tan as if he enjoyed the Florida sunshine.
“Heath. I’d like you to meet Jude and Penelope Donahue. Your new parents,” Miss Jamison said, waving her hand in the direction of the good looking couple.
Heath’s jaw dropped. This was the couple who was adopting him? No way! They were sort of young. And really nice looking. His mother had always told him not to judge a book by its cover, but in this case it was kind of hard not to. The lady looked like a movie star.
“Hello, Heath. I’m Jude,” the man said, standing up and sticking out his hand for Heath to shake. Jude had a firm grip. He smiled at Heath, then turned toward the woman. “This is my wife, Penelope. I know it may take some time, but we hope you’ll call us Mom and Dad.”
Mom and Dad? He shook his head. It was too weird. He didn’t even know these people.
The woman named Penelope stood up and bent down so their eyes were level with one another. Her blue eyes were the coolest bluest he’d ever seen in his life. They were almost purple. They were kind eyes, he thought. She reached out and clasped his hand. “Heath. We know this is all new and strange to you. You’re still heartsick over losing your mother. We just want to let you know that we’ll never try to take her place. That would be impossible, wouldn’t it?”
Heath nodded. He still ached for Mama. He wasn’t sure he had any more love in his heart to give.
“We want to give you a home and loads of brothers and a little sister to play with and lots of love. Our home is in a town called Pelican Bay. It’s right by the beach. We think you might learn to love it,” Penelope said, darting a glance at her husband. “What do you say? Will you give us a chance?”
Heath had been disappointed so many times in his life. It was hard to believe in people who were strangers. But what choice did he have? He’d learned in Bible class that God wanted everyone to love and be loved. Maybe if he tried really hard he could love these people and they could love him back.
He nodded his head at Penelope. “Yes, ma’am. I’m going to give it a shot.”
Penelope and Jude grinned at him. They were perhaps the biggest smiles he’d ever seen in his life. These people looked so happy. And he had the feeling they were grinning because he was going to be living with them. He was going to be a part of a family. Heath couldn’t deny that it felt good to know he was wanted. Although his heart still felt broken into a million little pieces, he felt a glimmer of hope. His life wasn’t over. Maybe it was just beginning.