My Name Is Venus Black(26)

Then she remembers the gift she has for Leo. It’s a toy fire engine with big wheels. At first he acts afraid of it, which is weird. He won’t touch it, and Tessa can tell he’s getting upset. Quickly, Tessa turns it over and sets the big wheels spinning, because she knows Leo likes that. Finally, Leo takes it and starts spinning the wheels himself.

Tessa chats with Maureen and watches Leo until Marco announces it’s time for everyone to come to the table.

“It’s time for dinner, Leo,” she tells him. When he doesn’t respond, she reaches down and gently tugs on the fire engine. “Come here, Leo,” she says firmly. “It’s time to eat.”

To her great relief, he lets the truck go and stands to follow her. She leads him over to the dining table and pulls out a chair. “Sit, Leo,” she says. It feels like she is ordering him around like a dog, but she knows it’s the only way to get him to do what you want.

Tessa sits down next to Leo, nervous about how this will go. She hopes he’ll eat something and not make weird sounds.

Then Marco, who’s more religious than her dad, says grace. Instead of closing her eyes all the way, Tessa watches Leo, who is staring at the bowl of peas in a way she knows.

As soon as Marco says “Amen,” Tessa asks her dad to pass the peas.

“The peas? You hate peas,” her father says.

“I know, but I have a feeling that Leo likes them.” She’s about to add that he might count them but catches herself. She dishes a good-sized mound onto Leo’s plate. He begins to touch them, gently spreading them out. Everyone is watching. “I think it’s okay if he uses his fingers,” she says.

Marco starts asking for people to pass the food, and it’s a relief. She always liked Uncle Marco. Not just because he looks so much like her father, except with short hair, but because he is always joking. Compared to him, her dad seems sad.



Tessa glances at Leo’s plate. He’s working on putting the peas in a swirl pattern that starts with one pea in the center and goes around in circles outward. “Look at what Leo is making,” she says proudly.

“Why, he’s a regular Einstein,” says Marco, laughing.

“Not so sure I’d put it that way,” her father counters.

They all watch to see what will happen when the design is finished, the last pea placed. Leo picks up the pea in the center and pops it in his mouth, quickly following it with the next in line. He doesn’t count them. Tessa isn’t sure if she’s disappointed or glad.

The rest of the meal proceeds pretty normally. The only other thing Leo eats is the ham—three slices, in fact, which is way more than Tessa expected. Of course, he wouldn’t eat it until after she had cut it into small pieces.

But now Tessa feels warm and happy. Marco tells jokes. Maureen talks a lot about movies. She goes on and on about Coal Miner’s Daughter. Her father keeps the food moving, and now and then Tessa sees him quietly watching Leo.

Tessa can’t wait for dinner to be over so she can get Leo alone and ask him about Venus.



* * *



—

TINKER DECIDED TO let the boy go for Easter in the hopes he might look like a regular dad. But that doesn’t keep him from worrying during his entire shift at the Burger Bar.

He feels like he’s taking unnecessary chances. But it also seems like the smart thing to do. Act regular. Let Leo have a friend. When he thinks about what could go wrong, he’s grateful in some ways that he kidnapped such a weirdo. A normal kid might still be asking for his mom.

It’s not Leo who worries him. It’s that girl. She’s a smart one, you can tell. She has that same look Venus used to get whenever he went round there, like she knows what you’re thinking and she’s sure it’s bad.

He arrives home at a little after eleven. The apartment looks the same, all tidy like he left it. The girl or her father had promised to bring Leo home by 8:00 P.M. He wishes he’d had a hidden camera hooked up to make sure that no snooping went on. Not that there’d be much to find.



He checks on the boy. Sees the familiar lump and is relieved. He lingers for a moment and then approaches the bed. Leo’s holding something in his hand. A red fire truck. The Herreras must have given it to him. He feels a pang of jealousy. There’s nothing wrong with the blue car Leo already has.

He watches the boy breathing evenly. He looks different when he’s sleeping, more like a normal kid. Tinker wonders if his brother kissed his boy good night. He bets he did, because that’s the only time you can ever touch the kid without him acting like you’re hurting him. Tinker never thought about stuff like that before. Like what Leo might be missing from not being at home.

Maybe he should kiss the boy good night for his poor dead brother. For a second, he feels embarrassed at the idea. But finally he leans over to Leo’s head and his lips quickly brush the blond hair. He smells like Johnson’s Baby Shampoo, the only kind Tinker buys, ever since Kimberly told him it might help him not lose more hair.

Then it’s over. The boy has no idea. Tinker gently pulls the blankets up a little higher over his bony shoulders. He shuts the door behind him. He knows that in the morning, at around eight, the boy will emerge looking soft and sweet. If Tinker is up early, he’ll say “Morning, Leo.” And Leo will ignore him.

More likely, though, the boy will get up first. And since the pullout is right next to the card table, Tinker will wake to the sound of a spoon scraping in a bowl. It’s something he’s come to count on. Snap! Crackle! Pop!