Page 80 of Only the Small Bones
“Yeah, and she’ll love you and worry about you just as much as she loves and worries about me. Sheloveskids.”
Asher smiled at that. “Where will I sleep?”
“Well, we moved into a bigger apartment, but it’s still small. There aren’t any spare bedrooms, but you can have half of my room.”
“You’d share your room with me? Like we were brothers?”
“Yeah,” I shrugged. “Why not? I’ve always wanted a brother. And we can paint your side any color you want, and you can pick out your own bed too. And we’ll take you shopping for sheets and clothes.” My mom would take him in, that much I knew. What I didn’t know was if she could afford all the other promises I was making. She had a better paying job now since she finished school, but she said she had one more degree to go before she started making the big bucks. I’d have said anything to make Asher feel better, though. Plus I had some left over allowance we could use.
“I’ll paint my side gray.”
“Like the color of storm clouds on a rainy day.”
“Right.” Asher nodded in approval.
“Did your mom used to say that to you?”
“Yeah.” His eyes filled with tears. “I’m starting to forget her. I don’t have any pictures of her to help me remember. They all burned in the fire. All I have is her violin.” He shot up. “Her violin!” He started hyperventilating, scrambling to his feet.
“Hey,” I got up as well. “What’s wrong? What happened to her violin?”
“I-I don’t have it. It’s gone,” he cried. “It’s the only thing I had and it’s gone.”
I hugged him, his tears soaking into my shirt as I thought of something to say to calm him down. “Did you leave it somewhere? Maybe we can find it.”
Asher pulled back, hiccupping. “It’s under my bed. I always hide it under my bed.”
“At St. Joseph’s?”
“Yeah.” He nodded frantically, tears falling to his chin.
“Okay, so it’s hidden, it’ll still be there when we get back.” I realized I didn’t know where he was from. I just assumed we’d all been snatched from the same area. I knew from the girls’ college t-shirts they attended school in the city. But where was Asher from?
“They’ll throw my stuff in the trash if they think I ran away. Or one of the other boys will take it.”
“They won’t think you ran away,” I brushed his rebellious curls off his forehead.
“How do you know?” He swiped at the moisture on his cheeks.
“Do they know how much you love your mom’s violin?”
“Yeah,” he frowned.
“So the moment they find it they’ll know you didn’t run away, because you’d never leave it behind.”
He thought about that for a second, shivering through his heightened emotions. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“Yeah, it is,” I agreed. “Where’s St. Joseph’s anyway?”
“In Brooklyn.”
“Hey, that’s where I live.” We smiled, the first smile we’d shared. I poked his cheeks. “You’ve got dimples. Nice.”
Asher blushed, clearly flattered by my approval. We sank to our sleeping bags again, sitting crossed legged in front of each other.
“So, how’d you end up with your mom’s violin? And do you know how to play it?”
“It was in the car. We were driving home from one of her shows. I could smell the smoke from down the street. There were lots of people outside in their pajamas, and I could hear sirens far away. My mom yelled for me to stay put while she ran inside for my nonna. They never came out.” He continued before I could say sorry. “I was learning how to play. We hadn’t gotten very far in my lessons. But I still practice what I know.”
