Freedom Mountain Church—December 25, 1999
“Torin, no!” Miss Belinda cries out, her voice harsh.
I look up from my Gameboy and frown. “What did he do?”
Instead of answering me, she swats at his hand. The ornament he’d pulled from the tree hits the nursery floor and shatters. Miss Linda’s toddler Judith starts screaming from the crib.
“Miss Belinda,” I mutter in shock. “Why did you hit him?” I may only be twelve, but I know when something isn’t right. Her hitting him isn’t right.
Torin starts rocking and mumbling. I’m angry that she’d hit my brother. He’s only five. It’s not like he realized he shouldn’t touch the tree. She’s the one who made him break it.
“I will not answer to a little boy. Respect your elders,” she huffs. “I’m going to tell your father. He’ll punish you both accordingly.”
I shove my Gameboy in my pocket and rush over to my brother. Kneeling beside him, I quickly brush away the broken shards of the ornament so he won’t accidentally get cut. My skin gets pierced by one of the shards, but I’m tough. It doesn’t hurt. Ignoring the bite of pain, I try to make eye contact with my brother. My mom used to be able to do it before she died, but Dad and I aren’t as lucky.
“Hey, buddy,” I say softly, in a tone I also learned from Mom. “Are you okay?”
“NONONONONONONONONONONO!”
“Don’t worry about her,” I tell him.
Judith screams and Miss Belinda gripes about how she’s never working the nursery by herself again.
I lean in and whisper, “She’s a big dumb idiot.”
Torin stops rocking. He doesn’t laugh. He never laughs. But he does calm considerably.
“I bet she eats toads for supper,” I tease. “Probably eats worms for dessert. Santa probably never came to see her. I bet her house is made from coal.”
Torin yells, “COAL!”
“Oh, dear Lord,” Miss Belinda groans.
I grin at my brother before yelling with him. “Coal!”
“Not you too—”
The door bursts open and Dad charges in. His wild eyes land on mine first and then he flits them to Torin. My dad is amazing. I’m pretty sure he’s an undercover superhero. How else would he have heard the mean things Miss Belinda was saying?
“It’s a mad house out there,” Dad says, his voice hoarse. He looks down at what he’s holding. Heartbreak flashes in his eyes. I’ve seen him look at Torin that way. Whatever’s in his arms is special.
“Whaaaaaa!”
Torin’s head snaps in our father’s direction and I stare up at him in surprise. A baby? Dad got us a baby?
Miss Belinda is frantically rushing around the nursery as she and Dad exchange words. I’m too focused on our baby. I rush over to it and to my surprise, so does Torin. He stares at it but doesn’t touch it.
Me?
I need to touch the baby.
Reaching out, I stroke its soft hair. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
“Girl,” Dad grunts.
“You got us a baby?” I grin at Dad. He really is a superhero.
His jaw clenches and he tears his gaze from mine. The baby girl wails. I want to hold her.
Protect her. Protect her. You must protect her.
“She’s so pretty,” I say, my mouth hurting from smiling so big. “You hear that?” I coo to her. “You’re pretty, sweetheart.”
Torin barks out a sound, but I know that sound. It’s his happy sound. He wants the baby too.
“She can stay in my room. I’ll take care of her, Dad. I’ve fed Judith her bottles and Miss Belinda lets me change all the diapers.” I beam at my dad.
His brows crash together and his bottom lip wobbles. He cries so much now that Mom is gone. “I’m afraid not, bud.”
Torin tugs at her blanket. “MINE!”
“The police are here,” someone hollers into the nursery.
The police?
“MINE!” Torin yells when Dad stands with the baby.
“I’m sorry, boys. She’ll go to a good home.”
I scramble to my feet. “What? A good home? Our home is a great home! Dad, we want her!” Everyone says I’m brave, but I feel like crying.
“She’s not a puppy,” Dad says harshly. “She’s a commitment. I can’t give her what she needs.”
“I’ll feed her,” I plead, my voice cracking. “I’ll take care of her. Please, Daddy!”
Dad shakes his head and stalks away with her in his arms.
Torin screams after him. “MIIIIIINNNNNNNEEE!!!!”
Hot tears leak down my cheeks. I never ask for anything. I’m a good boy. I want the baby.
“Daddy,” I sob after him. “Daddy!”
The door shuts behind him and Miss Belinda stands in front of it with her arms crossed over her chest.
With tears streaming down my cheeks, I grab hold of my little brother and protect him from her. She has the mean look in her eyes and I won’t let her hit him again. I’ll hit her big ugly stomach if she even thinks about touching him again.
Protect him. Protect him. You must protect him.
“Mine.” Torin’s voice is a whisper.
“I’m sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry.”