I'm FINALLY done writing (and there are indeed 16 total parts, with the final part being an epilogue).
I'll try to post the remaining chapters this week. 🥰 Thank you to everyone who has read this far.
Link to TOCLink to Chapter 1011
Martha looked up from the newspaper she’d been reading as she heard the quiet creak of that loose floorboard in the hallway. Clark poked his head around the corner, as he did every morning now, and gave her a small smile when his eyes landed on hers. Her heart swelled with some quiet joy as that little sparkle she’d quickly come to know and love in the last four days brightened up his dark brown eyes. She smiled back and folded up the newspaper as she stood.
“Good morning, sweetie. How did you sleep last night?”
Clark shuffled over to the table, stopped, and set his hands on the back of the chair where he usually sat.
“Um, good. P-pretty—pretty good, I think,” he answered.
“Wonderful, sweetie! Jonathan’s out doing his morning chores, but I think he’ll be in soon,” she said. “And then, we can eat breakfast together. How does that sound?”
With a small nod, Clark glanced up at her. “Okay. And, um, E-Emma is—is coming by today? To…to, um…”
“Yes,” Martha answered, picking up the pitcher of orange juice she’d set on the table earlier. She started to pour him a glass. “She’s supposed to be by around eleven, so just before lunchtime.”
She set the glass down in front of him, and he slipped into the seat and then eagerly reached out to pick it up. Within seconds, he’d downed half the juice, and when he looked back up at her, his eyes still had that little gleam to them. Her heart felt even fuller, and her smile softened.
“How do you feel about seeing her again and talking to her?”
Clark’s smile faded as he lowered his eyes to his glass. His hesitation was brief but telling, and finally, he answered quietly. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, sweetie, that’s okay,” Martha was quick to assure him. “Remember, I can be there with you the whole time, or Jonathan. So you won’t be alone. And she’s just going to want to hear all about how you’re doing.”
Clark’s little smile slowly returned and then grew, and he eventually looked up at her again, a new question in his eyes.
“Can I show her the song you taught me?” he asked, and as though he wasn’t sure she’d understand, he glanced at the piano and then back at her. “I mean, Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. On the p-piano. And—and then can I—can I—can I—”
He closed his eyes suddenly, his hands tightening around his glass, and Martha immediately recognized his frustration with his stammering. Carefully, she stepped closer to him and then crouched down beside his chair and set her hand on his shoulder, relieved when he didn’t flinch away.
“Breathe, sweetie. In and out,” she murmured. Trembling, he took two deep breaths and then slowly opened his eyes again. Despite his frown, she nodded and gave him and encouraging smile. “There you go. Now, what were you going to ask?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Clark closed his eyes again, but lightly this time, and he spoke slowly and deliberately. “Can I also show her how I can read?”
Martha rubbed his back gently, nodding, and then she stood up again. “Ahh, yes! Of course. She’s going to be just as proud of you as Jonathan and I are!”
That made him smile again, and he pushed his glass back from the edge of the table and then jumped to his feet.
“I can read her
The Lorax! I know all the words now!” he said, and Martha grinned and laughed as he rushed off into the living room to find the book.
It was amazing what only a few days had done—how far he’d come in such a short time. He’d learned to smile and laugh, to feel excitement and enthusiasm, to read and color and play. And he’d learned it was okay to speak up, to say what he was feeling, to ask questions and tell her and Jonathan what he wanted. But it was also exhausting sometimes to watch him ping-pong back and forth between all of his big emotions, especially as he’d still fall back sometimes into that dreadful uncertainty, that deep fear that seemed so ingrained in his personality. Every moment seemed to be something new, every experience he had both exciting and scary.
She started to follow him into the living room, but before she could, Clark sped back into the kitchen, sliding to a stop at the table with the book in his hands. His grin was huge and wide, and she had to blink back another strong rush of her own emotions as she saw him.
“Can I read it to you again to practice? When will she be here? Do we have time?” He tossed all the questions out while pulling his chair away from the table to sit again. When he looked up at her, still grinning, his eyes still bright, she felt more hope and love, and she nodded.
“Of course, sweetie, we have a few hours,” she said, and she took the seat next to his, pulling it close so she could watch him read. “I know she’ll absolutely love to hear you read to her.”
Martha sat quietly next to him, her heart soaring, as Clark smiled again and then opened up the book and began reading. He paused only once when Jonathan came in from the barn to join them, taking his seat on the other side of Clark.
And he read the whole book. All by himself.
It was yet another thing about him that was just incredible. She admittedly hadn’t spent a huge amount of time around other kids his age or those just learning to read, but she did volunteer quite often at the library and with some of the lower-grade classes at the elementary school. So she knew he was learning exceptionally fast. He was still well behind his peers and would definitely struggle if he was placed right now in a fifth-grade classroom, where he should be. However, given how quickly he was learning and how much joy he seemed to find in everything he learned, she just knew it wouldn’t be too much longer until he was ready. Maybe in another couple of months, after the new year.
When he finished, he closed the book and grinned up at Jonathan and then at her.
“I did it!” he said. Then he turned to Jonathan. “Can we get new books today? I-I mean…”
He trailed off and looked down to the book in his hands as his smile faded. He seemed about to apologize or something, his eyes scrunching together and his fingers tightening around the edges of the book. But Jonathan quickly jumped in.
“Absolutely, we can,” Jonathan said. “Today is Wednesday, so the library is open all day. We can even get you a library card so you can check out as many books as you like. How does that sound, buddy?”
Clark lifted his chin to look up at Jonathan again. “The library?”
Jonathan nodded. “Have you ever been to a library? It’s the best place, isn’t it, Martha?”
Clark’s little head swung around in her direction, his expression hopeful and curious, and Martha smiled and settled her hand on his back.
“Definitely one of my favorite places. They have so many books—books about everything you can imagine!”
His eyes lit up again, and he nearly bounced out of his chair. “Can we go now? Can we, can we?” Then he sort of froze, and he closed his eyes. “I-I mean… I don’t know…”
“What is it, sweetie?”
“Do—do I g-get to—to—to—” He shook his head and tried again, his voice quiet. “Do I get to…go too? I-I don’t… Ma and Pa didn’t let me…go places with them.”
“Of course you do, buddy,” Jonathan said, jumping in immediately to answer. His voice stayed calm and relaxed, which was much more than Martha knew she’d be capable of in that moment. Jonathan glanced at her briefly, and she saw the knowing expression in his eyes. With a gentle smile, he focused on Clark again. “I think you’d love it. You can even pick out your own books and meet Ms. Sue. She’s the librarian, and she’s super nice.”
Martha wished she could add something to reassure Clark even more, but she just sat there, trying not to let her expression show what she was actually feeling—sadness and anger and so many other things. Every time he said something like this—innocently giving them some sort of clue, some little tidbit about his life with the Petersons—the picture of how he’d lived became…darker. They’d steered away from asking him to elaborate—something she and Jonathan had talked about early that week. They didn’t want him to feel any sort of shame or guilt
or to have to relive anything that he’d been through. And so for now, they just let him say what came to mind.
Even with this passive approach, they’d learned a lot. And none of it had been good.
“I would like that,” Clark said, and he looked from Jonathan to Martha, his grin maybe just a little subdued now. “I’ve never seen a library before. Is it big? Are you sure they’ll have books for me? Will they—” He stopped and swallowed hard, then looked down again.
She could almost feel the moment he shut down, and her heart clenched. This happened too sometimes; it was part of that ping-ponging. Happy to sad. Excited to…closed up.
She rubbed his back gently. “The library is huge!” she told him, trying to inject as much of her own excitement into her words as possible. “And they will definitely have books for you. They have all kinds of books. They have books for kids who are just learning to read, like you, and they have books for bigger kids who have been reading for a while. They have books that tell stories, like
The Lorax and
Clifford, and they also have books on all sorts of topics, like dinosaurs.”
Jonathan nodded. “All sorts of books. It’s really amazing, buddy. Do you know what kind of book you might want?”
It was impossible to tell what was going through Clark’s head then, and she watched silently, her heart aching for him, as he sat there and stared at the book in his hands. After a moment, he screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. “N-no, I…I don’t know,” Clark answered quietly. “I-I’m sorry. I…”
“Oh, buddy, there’s nothin’ to apologize for,” Jonathan said. “And I just can’t wait to take you. I think we do probably need to wait until after we’ve had breakfast and after we’ve met with Emma. What do you think, Martha?”
She smiled, trying to push away all her tangled up emotions so she could be what Clark needed right now. But her heart still stuttered a bit when Clark looked up at her, his big brown eyes full of uncertainty now…that little gleam gone.
“I think that’s wise,” she agreed, nodding gently. She glanced at the clock. “Goodness, it’s already nine! I still need to make breakfast. You two must be hungry!”
Clark’s eyes darted to the counter, and he bit his lip. Then, his brilliant smile returned as he giggled. “We can just have cookies! Then you don’t have to cook!”
And again, her heart just nearly burst. Oh, how incredible it was to see his smile. She almost wanted to give in and just let him eat
all the cookies. Especially when his eyes met hers and they were just filled with a sort of silly, happy laughter.
“I think I have a better idea,” she said, and she stood up and pushed her chair in. “How about each of you can have
one cookie while I make breakfast and then you can have
one more cookie after you eat?”
“That sounds pretty darn fair to me. Clark, what do you think?” Jonathan shot her a grin, and she smiled back as they both refocused on the small boy, who now nodded vigorously.
“
Two cookies? Okay!”
Delighted. And excited. And eager.
God, it was such a huge thing. She wanted to hug him and tell him just how much she loved him and just how happy she was that he was here with them. But she just steadied herself with a deep breath as she quickly retrieved two cookies—one for Clark and one for Jonathan—from the plate on the counter. Clark immediately took a huge bite, still grinning.
“So, I was thinking of making omelets. Clark, sweetie, do you know what an omelet is?”
He looked up at her, his eyebrows scrunched together in an expression that clearly showed his confusion, and he shook his head. “N-no, I’ve never had that before.”
“Ahh, you’re in for another treat, buddy,” Jonathan said, and he took a small bite of his cookie and then began to explain to Clark what an omelet was as Martha moved around the kitchen, gathering all the ingredients she needed. By the time Jonathan was finished with his explanation, she had the pan heating on the stove and was mixing the eggs and milk together.
She continued cooking—melting butter in the pan and then pouring a small portion of the egg mixture in. And as she did, she heard Clark jump up from the table again and then run out into the living room. He returned a moment later with one of the other books Jonathan had gotten him from the library on Sunday.
“I can read this one now too!” he announced as he sat at the table again. “I-I mean…”
Martha glanced sideways at him as she stirred the mixture a bit. He was staring down at the book, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. Then, with a small nod and a look of determination, he opened it up.
“I can read almost all of it,” he corrected. “I think…there are a few words m-maybe that I-I still don’t know. W-will you help me, Jonathan?”
“Absolutely, buddy,” Jonathan said, without hesitation.
This time, a tear escaped, and she couldn’t do a darn thing to stop it. She quickly wiped it away and turned back to the stove as Clark began reading, his quiet little voice becoming more and more confident with each word.
***
“Hi, Martha, Jonathan. And Clark, wow, good to see you again! Have you grown? Already? In just a few days?” Ms. Jones took off her coat at the front door, hung it up, and then knelt down to be at eye level with Clark, smiling warmly.
Clark clung to Martha’s side, partially hiding behind her, and she could feel his little body trembling just a bit. He glanced up at her, uncertainty in his eyes, and then looked back at Ms. Jones.
“I-I don’t know,” he said, his voice quiet and a little shaky, like the rest of him. Martha rubbed his back gently, and he rested his head against her side as he continued to cling to her.
“Oh, that’s okay, kiddo,” Ms. Jones said, her smile not faltering. She straightened up slowly. “It is really great to see you again, and I’d love to have a little chat with you today, if you’re up to it.”
There was another pause, but then Clark nodded and stepped out from behind Martha.
“Martha and Jonathan s-said… Well, I-I mean, I…”
Martha squeezed his shoulder lightly, and Clark looked up at her again, biting his lower lip. He motioned to her to come closer, and so she bent down a bit. He stretched up and whispered in her ear, “Can you tell her I can read?”
When he pulled away, shifting back enough to meet her eyes, she grinned at him and then gently brushed the hair off his forehead as she nodded. She straightened back up.
“Clark wants to show you something really, really special, Emma,” she said.
“Oh, I’d love to see,” Ms. Jones said.
Next to her, Clark seemed to become a little taller, as though he was really proud of himself. “’Kay. Um, I’ll—I’ll just g-go and g-get it and…”
The four of them spent the next thirty minutes in the living room, with Clark sitting on Martha’s lap while reading
The Lorax out loud. Ms. Jones sat in one of the arm chairs, listening intently, the warm smile never leaving her face.
“The end!” Clark declared as he finished the last page. He held up the book, his eyes lit up. “See, look! The little boy has the seed that the Once-ler gave him, and he’s going to go grow his own Truffula tree and make everything better. And I just really, really like this story. Martha and Jonathan taught me to read b-because…” There was another sudden shift as Clark trailed off, his smile tightening. He closed the book.
“Because what, sweetie?” Martha prompted. To her relief, Clark didn’t seem to retreat right away. Instead, he looked thoughtful, and he leaned back against her, then lifted his chin just a bit and looked directly at Ms. Jones.
“Because they’re the nicest people I’ve ever met,” he said quietly.
Martha closed her eyes to hold back the tears, but as the conversation continued around her, the tears slipped out anyway…again.
“They are very nice, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” Clark said, this time with a little more confidence. And then he continued, speaking quickly as though maybe he’d been rehearsing what to say and he didn’t want to forget any of it. “They’re so nice to me, and they’ve given me so many things. Cookies and orange juice and strawberries and pancakes. And a pillow and blanket. And the softest bed ever. And all the new clothes and books and Legos. And Martha taught me to read and color, and I’m almost—I can almost write my name now. Jonathan is showing me about numbers, and there’s so much to learn. And I-I know…” He slowed down, and his tone got very serious. “I know I don’t deserve any of it, especially…especially since—since—since—”
Her heart lurched as he curled up in her arms more, and he took a deep breath and started again, still slower, his voice now shaky. “M-Ma and Pa had a lot of r-rules, and I t-tried really hard—I did, I tried really hard. But even though I tried, s-sometimes I couldn’t… And—and—and then…”
“What kind of rules, Clark?” Ms. Jones asked softly, and when Martha finally opened her eyes again, she saw the woman’s carefully controlled expression, her eyes studying Clark but still staying warm and gentle.
Martha knew she couldn’t keep her composure in that way, but she was glad Ms. Jones seemed capable. She felt Clark shudder, and the book fell out of his hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
“All—all kinds of—of rules,” Clark stammered, his voice muffled against her.
“Like…that you had to help clean up and do chores?”
Clark nodded into Martha, and she wrapped her arms around him protectively. His behavior easily showed that there was much, much more to it than simply rules about him having to help clean up and do chores. And she had her own suspicions based on many of his little mannerisms and the bits of things he’d said or done the last four days. But now wasn’t the time to say anything about that. She closed her eyes again and held him tighter.
“What else, kiddo?” Ms. Jones prompted. “Did they have rules about other things?”
But he didn’t answer this time; he just whimpered slightly as he buried his head up against her.
“It’s okay, kiddo. We don’t need to talk about that. I am very, very happy to hear you like being here with Martha and Jonathan. Is that right?”
“Yes,” he said right away, without any hesitation at all. Yet he still clung to her, curled up in her arms as though her embrace could chase away everything bad—all the hurt.
She hoped with all her might that it could.
“That’s really wonderful, Clark, because you know what?”
He lifted his head from Martha’s chest and looked over across the room at Ms. Jones, tears in his eyes.
“Wh-what?”
“I think Martha and Jonathan really like having you here too, and if everything keeps going this well, I bet you can stay here with them.”
“For-forever?” he whispered. And there was so much hope in his one word that Martha had to close her eyes against the flood of emotion. She hugged him just a little more, just a little stronger, and she gently kissed the top of his head.
A quiet laugh came from the other side of the room. “I think that’s the plan, kiddo. What do you think about that?”
“I’d like that a whole lot,” Clark said, and he settled back against Martha’s chest and closed his eyes.
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