He reached to grab your little foot. “You hungry, my eaglet?”
You shook your head.
“Pass me that bag, Darius,” Silas said in a tone I remembered. It was like Father’s. I passed him the bag. He pulled out a bottle even though you were clearly past the stage of bottle drinking. “Drink this.”
“Noooo, Baba,” you whined.
“Oliver.” Silas’s tone was deep and commanding, emphasizing the middle of your name. A man’s tone versus the boy I remembered. He was nineteen. Silas pushed the bottle toward you with one hand while the other remained on the steering wheel, his eyes facing front. “Drink your milk. I’ll get you something more filling soon.”
You took the bottle and drank it.
It was an interesting interaction and indicative of the relationship that had been growing between the two of you. You depended on Silas and Silas existed to care for you. What you two have is something akin to co-dependency and yet so far beyond co-dependency, I’m not sure there’s a name for it yet.
When we pulled up to the motel, I was spent even though I’d been sitting in a car all day other than when we’d stopped for gas. I had to help Silas keep you occupied—though he was quiet for the most part—and fed. We always made sure you were fed before we were fed. That day neither Silas nor I ate much.
You were wiped too and eventually passed out. You didn’t stir when Silas pulled you out of the car seat, flopping as dead weight on Silas’s shoulder. I was unaware of the plan as I followed Silas to the registration desk. We got looks. We were all ash-blond. We were all striking with fair skin, resembling porcelain dolls come to life.
We were also young and without a real parent. We had a four-year-old with us who wasn’t wearing shoes. Silas and I were dirty and scraggly. He pushed an ID across the counter—one I would later learn was a fake one Father had made for him that showed he was twenty-five—with a fifty-dollar bill on top. He didn’t say a word. He commanded the confidence of a king and at that moment, I knew we’d be all right no matter what came our way.
That didn’t mean the scary shit wouldn’t be scary, but we would make it through because Silas fucking said so.
The shifty man behind the counter was happy to accept the cash in exchange for not asking questions and gave us a room key. Shady characters have their place.
The motel room was neat and tidy but nothing special. Two double beds, a small kitchenette, and a bathroom. I had nothing so I helped Silas bring in the stuff from the car. He laid you on the bed, and then he and I sat at the small kitchen table. “What the fuck is going on, Sye?”
“It’s good to see you too, Darius.”
It had been three years, but the car ride seemed to sew the distance time ripped apart. I’d missed more than I could have imagined. “I take it Father hasn’t missed me?”
He shook his head.
“You going to tell me what happened?”
“It took a while to find out where he dropped you. I’m sorry it took so long,” he said instead of answering my question.
I always told Simon that Silas would come for me. I knew he would. Silas is a fucking domineering prick sometimes, but he’s never let me down. Not ever. “Is that all I’m fucking getting?”
“Keep your voice down.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ll tell you what happened but then I never want to speak of it again. It stays here in this room forever.”
I nodded, thinking that maybe I shouldn’t know whatever he was about to tell me, but I was compelled even though I knew every word cost him. He laid it on me. It twisted my stomach. My skin itched. I ran to the bathroom to puke and then ran outside to punch something.
He couldn’t look me in the eyes, and I hated that. He shouldn’t have to feel ashamed of what he did to survive. He tapped his pointer finger on the table. To this day that’s the only tell you’ll get out of Silas that he’s fucking uneasy.
The first few months on the road were hell. None of us slept much and that made things worse. We had Dad’s credit card. Of course, he hadn’t canceled it. He knew we’d eventually get desperate enough to try using it and that would make us easier to find. We had to get by on the only shitty job Silas was able to get. I was your new caretaker, and I was nowhere near what Silas was. After an incident, I convinced Silas to collect Simon and Shane. We collected Asher too. With more of us, we stood a fucking chance. Silas didn’t like it at first but unless he wanted to relent and reach out to Uncle Pax for help, he had to swallow his pride.
“I just, I can’t look at his face,” Silas said.
“How do you stand me?” I asked. Of the three of us, I look most like Aleksander Randall.
“You have her eyes. It’s all in the eyes.”
My eyes are green like Father’s, but Silas thought my eyes shined like Mama’s.
The five of us lived in the small, shitty apartment until we could afford a larger, shitty house. It worked until Silas made enough to afford a much better place. Silas didn’t trust anyone else with you and Simon wouldn’t let it be anyone other than him.
I thought I’d seen my brother do some pretty amazing things by that point, but he was only getting started. He went to business school at warp speed, and he managed to be your father at the same time. He took the family money and grew it to ten times what it had been.
It cost him. Boy did it cost him, but because of Silas, we went from having nothing to everything.
