The Light Through the Leaves(15)

“What cool things?”

“We can live in the Sahara Desert in a tent. We can go on a safari riding a zebra. We can sail a ship on the stormy Atlantic . . .”

“Okay,” Ellis said.

“Which one?”

“All of them.”

And so they did. The Sahara was a tent they made with sheets in the backyard. Safari by zebra was her riding on his shoulders as they walked the neighborhood looking for birds and squirrels. And sailing the stormy Atlantic was little boats they made and pushed around in rainwater that collected in the big ditch out front.

Her mother was angry when she came home and saw how muddy Ellis was. “What the hell, Zane? I’m dead tired and those were her last clean clothes. Now I have to go to the Laundromat.”

Ellis didn’t understand why she said that. Usually she let Ellis wear dirty clothes for weeks.

“I’ll take the laundry over,” Zane said.

Her mother lit a cigarette, inhaled the smoke deep. “I’m sure you have better things to do on your day off after you watched my kid all day.”

He got very close to her. He did that a lot. “I don’t,” he said. “And when I come back, I’ll bring a pizza for all of us. Go put your feet up.”

Her mother put her feet up and drank whiskey. Ellis sat on the steps, waiting for Zane to come back. She was afraid to go near her mother when she was in a bad mood. But when Zane returned, he’d make her happier. He’d say, “Come here, gorgeous,” and massage her sore feet while they watched TV. Sometimes she took off her shirt and he rubbed her back.

Zane first stayed overnight when Ellis was in kindergarten. That was when he started saying, “I love you, baby,” to her mother. Nothing made Ellis happier, because when he said that, he stuck around. He took Ellis and her mother for ice cream and to go swimming at the big lake. Sometimes he brought Ellis fun places when her mother was working, like the night they went to the county fair and rode the Ferris wheel.

He started doing things her mother used to do. When he took Ellis grocery shopping, he let her put things in the cart her mother would never have allowed.

“Oh, we’re having Bugles and Cap’n Crunch for dinner?” he’d ask.

“Can we?”

“Why not? That’s all the important food groups covered.”

He drove her to school all through kindergarten because he said she was too little to ride the bus. One morning, Ellis overheard a teacher ask her kindergarten teacher, “Who is that?” when Zane dropped her off. Her teacher replied, “He’s sort of her father.”

That had been one of the best moments of her life. To know someone else saw funny, sweet Zane as her sort-of father. From that day on, that was what he was. Almost her father. And that was more than enough for her.

But everything started to change after the accident. When Ellis was six and a half, her mother fell down a stairway while waitressing, breaking her ankle and hurting her back. The restaurant manager fired her and wouldn’t let her claim workers’ compensation because he said she’d fallen because she was stoned. Ellis’s mother hired a lawyer, who said she fell because she worked in hazardous conditions. She carried big trays, and the stairs to the upper dining room were narrow and steep.

The lawyer won, and her mother got money. She could stay home all the time if she wanted. At first, that had seemed good to Ellis. But within a few months, it was bad. Her mother drank more and did more drugs when she didn’t have to stay sober for work. She and Zane fought more than usual.

“What did you do all day yesterday?” he asked, sorting through laundry, trying to find clean pants for Ellis.

“You know my back hurts too bad to carry laundry baskets.”

“But it didn’t hurt too much to drive to the liquor store?”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“She has no clean clothes, goddamn it! You’re home all day. I’ve worked five double shifts straight.”

“I never asked for your help.”

“I know. You just dump this dad shit on me every day!”

Ellis wanted to cry. But if she did, he would get more upset when he saw he’d made her sad. He might leave forever. She clenched every muscle in her body to stop the tears.

“Just get out if you don’t like being here!” her mother shouted. “Get out and don’t come back!”

“Maybe I will!” he yelled. “I’m tired of this bullshit!”

Those threats always made Ellis feel like her heart was falling out of her chest. She found dirty leggings under her bed and held them up. “I found clean ones, Zane! Will you drive me to the bus stop?”

“Your mother just told me to leave.”

“Don’t go!” Ellis said, tugging the dirty leggings up her legs. “I’m ready. We can go.”

He shot a questioning look at her mother.

“Just take her,” her mother grumbled. She wanted to get high rather than do it herself.

In the beginning, her mother could control Zane with the threat of making him leave. He would apologize, nuzzling her, and he would stay. But after the accident, the more her mother got stoned and yelled, the more Zane walked out the door. Once he was away for nine days. But he came back, saying, “I love you, baby,” in her mother’s ear as he always did, and they went in the bedroom. Ellis heard them laugh and make those other sounds that were a relief, because that meant Zane would stay.