"Come on, Alec and Holly and Tom--can I call you Tom instead of Tommy? We'll sit over here."
I lifted Alec onto a chair. Too short. I looked around quickly, grabbed a cushion and slid it under him. He was holding onto his bear with both hands. "Hey," I said seriously. "It's going to be hard for you to eat unless you put Bear down. Nobody's going to take him." Something told me not to try taking the bear away from him myself. He had to surrender it on his own. In fact, I wouldn't even touch that bear without his permission. That possessiveness was a signal.
I got up and went over to the steam table, snagged a tray, put some soup and crackers on it, some bread and butter, some celery, uarrots, what else would be attractive to a hungry, dirty child? Sandwiches? Definitely-and apples too. I went back to the table and started distributing the goodies.
Holly had already made up her mind that I could be trusted. She started eating immediately. Tommy checked me out first, sniffed his soup, then began eating slowly, with manners even. Alec just stared.
I looked around the room. The other kids were gobbling up the food as fast as it was being dealt out to them by Daddy Potts and his helpers and B-Jay and just about every other available man, woman, and teenager in the area. Just about every kid had someone fussing over him, it seemed, but it was really just an illusion of motion, there weren't that many adults available. These three apparently were mine for the moment. I sighed. Okay. Turned back to Alec.
"You're going to have to put Bear down." He shook his head.
I considered the situation. He trusted me. A little bit anyway. But he was shy and he was scared and he was in a terrifying new situation. I reached over and stroked his hair. It was very fine and soft, even though it was matted with dirt. There is something about stroking a young child's head that is intensely sensitive. Not just the trust it requires, but the actual sensation itself-something, I think, that harkens back to animal roots and instincts.
Then I had an idea, something from my own childhood. I leaned over and kissed him gently on the forehead. And then I leaned down and kissed Bear too.
His eyes went as wide as they could with surprise.
I ignored the look, shifted the bowl of soup directly in front of him, picked up a spoon and offered it to him.
He eyed the soup. And me. And the spoon. And Bear. Shapeless old Bear. And then he did it all again.
"Well, if you don't want any, let's see if Bear does." I offered Bear the spoon. "Mmmm, there, you see-Bear likes it. Isn't that good? What's that, Bear? More? Well, wait a minute, let's see if Alec wants some. We have to take turns here." I dipped the spoon in the bowl and held it out to Alec. "Your turn."
Alec's mouth opened almost before he could think about it. I popped the spoon in quickly. "That's the way." His eyes widened slightly in surprise. The soup was good. I gave him a second spoonful, then a third, before he realized he'd been had. He almost started to pout, but there was a fourth spoonful of soup staring back at him. With a piece of meat in it.
He made up his mind. He very carefully kissed Bear and held him out to me. "Will you hold him?"
I started to reach, then stopped just short of touching. "You're sure now? You're sure he'll be okay?"
He bit his lip. Maybe I shouldn't have asked that question. "He's very scared," said Alec. "You'll have to hold him and tell him he's a good bear."
"Okay. " I took Bear carefully into my lap. A torso and one arm. No head. But there was still enough to love. How much of a bear did you have to lose anyway before you lost the soul? Probably a lot more than a head and three limbs.
Alec took the spoon from me and insisted on feeding himself. He pulled the bowl as close to his face as he could and hunkered down over it and spooned the hot vegetable soup into his mouth quickly, looking around all the while as if afraid someone were going to take it away from him. He kept looking over at me and Bear. Bear especially. I made a big show out of stroking Bear and feeding him crackers-to his neck hole. That seemed the most appropriate aperture. Alec was working on his second bowl of soup before he remembered that it was Bear's turn again, but Bear wasn't hungry any more, he'd been filled up on crackers, so Alec had to finish the soup himself.
"Good, huh?" I asked.
Alec was too busy eating and Bear had his neck full of cracker. I took that as answer enough.
Half a table away, someone spilled a glass of milk and started crying
"Oohhhh, we had an accident!" That was B-Jay, already rushing up with a towel. Daddy Potts was right behind her with a fresh glass of milk. "It's all right, honey, don't cry. There's lots more milk where that came from. Jim?" She looked over at me. "We'll need a mop."
I started to get up, but Alec's sudden start stopped me. "Uh I can't. "
"Huh?"
I held up Bear. "I'm Bear-sitting."
She looked puzzled, almost ready to get mad; then she saw Alec and caught it. "Oh, okay."
I was beginning to catch on. The kids were all-important. Whatever else, save the kids. We didn't know what they'd been through, and we didn't have the time to dig into their personal histories. We had to feed them, bathe them, play with them, hold them, kiss their hurts, physical and psychological, and do whatever else they needed right away-because these kids needed one thing more than anything else: assurance that they were safe. Their every need had to be met now, not next week, or an hour from now, or some indefinite later. These kids didn't know later, they only knew now. And these kids were scared. Whatever they'd been through, they were all of them terrified that it wasn't over, not yet; that this . . . this illusion we called Family was only a temporary and unreal Oz and that they would be sent back to Kansas and the desperate hunger of reality all too soon. They were
248DAVID GERROLD
grabbing hungrily for whatever we could give them because they were too damned scared that it wouldn't last and they would have to go hungry again for days at a time, or that they might get beaten, or might have no warm place to sleep or even to hide. Most of all, they were scared that there would be no one to hug them and tell them that they were good and that everything would be all right, even when they knew it really wouldn't. These kids were smart, all kids are. They knew when things weren't all right, but they still needed a parent to tell them that things werebecause it's the existence of that parent that makes everything all right, someone strong they can depend on. What they needed most was someone else who cared and would be responsible for them. For a little while, anyway. A kid isn't ready to be responsible for himself; it makes him old before his time, makes him forget what laughing is for-so if that meant sitting and holding a stuffed piece of bear that was falling apart even as I held it while milk, which was selling at KC 3.23 a gallon, dripped onto the floor, well, that's what it meant. Milk could be wiped up any time. But Alec insisted that Bear had to be held. And that meant now. And I had a hunch about that, too--he wasn't talking about Bear. He was talking about Alee.
What was the word? Projection? Never mind. That was textbook, this was people. Alec couldn't allow himself to show weakness. Not ever. So it was Bear who needed the hug. I sat there and hugged Bear.
Holly and Tommy were working on sandwiches. Alec was having trouble with his, but he refused Holly's help. I put it back together for him-he was willing to accept my help-and placed it firmly in both hands. Tuna salad. Very messy. But good. I licked off my fingers. It was only recently that tuna had come back from being a delicacy to a staple. I'd missed it. Some of the side effects of the Recede weren't all bad. Alec was staring at me. "You weren't supposed to eat it, only fix it."