ONE
CARTOONS—COLORFUL FLASHES OF HAPPINESS on the screen in front of me.
I often wondered to myself if the creators of my favorite Saturday morning cartoons knew how therapeutic their work was for a boy like me—a boy with no past and no distinct future.
My life changed constantly.
It was an endless cycle of families and faces I was sure to never see again. Bouncing from one foster home to another, I dipped in and out of people’s real lives, getting only tiny glances of what it meant to belong.
Through it all, though, one thing remained the same—the cartoons.
I could always count on the Smurfs to make me smile or Bugs Bunny to make me laugh. They were the only family I knew—the only constant good in my life. I wrapped myself in their splashes of color, using them to push all the bad things about my life out of my mind.
I laughed as Wile E. Coyote tried repeatedly to catch the Road Runner. He was seconds from being flattened by an anvil when suddenly, a faded, blue T-shirt blocked the TV.
“Move, Ethan,” I said sternly, reaching out and pushing him to the side.
He was small for a sixteen-year-old, and I often found myself playing the protector when the other kids in the group home teased him.
His dark hair was too long since haircuts were few and far between, and it fell over his eyes just enough to hide the fact he’d recently smoked a joint.
Being teased about his size had turned him into a bit of an asshole, which didn’t go over well in most homes. But the fact he constantly stole from the foster parents was the main reason several homes had given him the boot.
“Come on, Sebastian. Let’s go outside, man,” he whined. “You’re too old to be sitting inside all day watching this crap.”
He was right.
I was too damn old to be watching cartoons.
But it was a habit I wasn’t going to be breaking anytime soon.
“What’s your obsession with this stupid shit?” he asked, falling onto the couch next to me.
He kicked his Converse-covered feet onto the couch beside me, and I looked down to see a worn hole in the sole of his right shoe. Turning my attention back to the TV, I shook my head and sighed in aggravation.
“Call it stupid shit one more time, and I’ll punch you in the mouth,” I replied. “Just shut up and watch it.”
I didn’t tell him the reasons behind my obsession with cartoons. I didn’t tell him about my strange connection with the characters who had somehow become my family. He didn’t need to know what made me tick … no one did.
An hour later, just as Porky Pig was saying, “That’s all, folks!” I was called to my counselor’s office.
Going into Mrs. Brown’s room, I moved my eyes over her faded, leather furniture and the chipped table that held a lamp and a few other desk accessories. The room was worn but inviting. It was homely, and in some ways, her office was home. I’d lived inside her office longer than any of the other “homes” I’d stayed in.
“I have great news, Sebastian,” Deloris Brown said.
I hadn’t even had a chance to sit down before she was bombarding me with bullshit.
Mrs. Brown was good people. She always looked out for me, but I knew the world was a cruel place. I knew she couldn’t save me.
No one could.
Excitement was a cruel reflection in her eyes, and seeing that excitement let me know exactly why she’d called me into her office.
A new home.
A different place to get kicked out of.
She was probably excited to be rid of me again, but the joke was on her. It didn’t matter which home I ended up in; I never stayed long, and I’d find myself in her office once again.
The older I got, the harder it was for any permanent placement. More times than not, I’d end up in the group home with all the other unwanted kids. I’d stay there for months before some clueless family picked me, trying to make a difference in someone’s life.
It was a joke.
I felt like an old mutt, watching as all the puppies were snatched up and taken to forever homes.
It was pathetic.
I didn’t respond as I folded myself into the plush leather chair in front of her large desk. The chairs deceived perspective parents into thinking everything was fucking rainbows and ponies.
I knew better.
I also knew Mrs. Brown was waiting for me to wag my tail and jump around excitedly, but I didn’t give her so much as a smile before she sighed and continued.
“You may not be excited now, but you will be when I tell you my good news.”
“I got placed in a home,” I said, ruining what I knew was supposed to be her happy surprise for me.
I shrugged like it was no big deal.
It wasn’t.
Her face fell, draining the excitement from her eyes.
“Well, yes, but it’s not just a placement. This couple is considering adoption. It could be a permanent home, Sebastian. This is a wonderful opportunity.”
When I still refused to show excitement, she frowned.
“Why are you not more excited about this?” she asked.
A sarcastic chuckle bubbled from the back of my throat. “Nothing’s permanent when you’re a system kid, Deloris. You and I both know that. Don’t try to paint this as a pretty fucking picture because we both know it’s not.”
Her frown deepened.
She hated it when I called her by her first name, but she really hated it when I cursed.
Tough shit.
I didn’t like a lot of things. Things like being abandoned and then tossed around like trash.
“You should start watching your mouth, Sebastian. I tolerate it, but your new foster parents aren’t going to like your colorful language.”
I wanted to tell her she didn’t tolerate shit. She had no control over my language. But I was feeling particularly lazy and arguing with her was exhausting.
“Colorful language? That’s a new one, Deloris.” I smirked. “So what’s the catch? What’s wrong with them?” I asked.
“What’s wrong with them?” She repeated my question.
Her forehead creased down the middle in confusion. “Oh! You mean your new parents.”
My jaw tightened. “Don’t call them that,” I snapped. “They’re nothing to me but another bed to sleep in until they either get rid of me or I turn eighteen.”
“Is that your plan, Sebastian?”
I nodded.
“You definitely won’t go anywhere in life with an attitude like that. Listen,” she said, moving around her desk to stand in front of me. “Believe me, I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but you can’t go through life never trusting anyone. There’s still some good in this world, and I know you’ll find love.”
She meant well, but I was jaded and jagged. The world had sharpened my edges. So I laughed in her face, pretending to find her ridiculous when deep down I wanted her to be right.
“You’re a trip, Deloris. Seriously, you should find some other pathetic orphan to projectile vomit all your stupid ideas on. I’m not into that shit.”
Her brown eyes filled with hurt, and I turned away, pretending to be disgusted. I tried to swallow the nagging feeling that clogged my throat, but I ended up choking on it instead.
What was my plan?
My plan was to wait out the next two years of my sentence in the system until I was considered a legal adult. Technically, I could probably walk away tomorrow, and they wouldn’t bother looking for me.
Eighteen.
Only then would I be released onto the wild streets of Brooklyn where I’d live doing whatever the hell I wanted.
My plans were realistic.
I didn’t have time for hopes and dreams. That shit was for family kids. It was for boys who hadn’t grown up in the hellhole I had. I’d never had a family, and at my age, I never would.
“Someday, Sebastian.” Deloris’s soft voice interrupted my inner musings. “Someday it won’t hurt this much. And I pray to God that someday is soon for you.”
I didn’t look her in the eyes.
I knew better.
I was always worried that if I did, the small part of me not broken would do something stupid.
Like cry.
Or believe her.
Which was what I felt like doing.
I closed my eyes and let the pressure build. Only when I knew it was safe and the tears would stay put did I open them again.
“When do I leave?” I asked.