Page 49 of Capacity
“How old are you, Zach? Seventeen?”
He nodded quietly. The longer I stared at him the more different scratches and scrapes materialized on his skin. I hated his foster dad. I wanted him behind bars for putting his hands on a kid. On Zachary.
Zach was big for his age. Taller than most grown men, he had to be well over six-foot-three inches. He was lean and muscular and could have easily played basketball or any other sport. He looked like in another life where he got dealt a better hand, he would have been at home amongst the jocks. He’d fit right in with his squared jaw and handsome face.
He didn’t look like the kind of kid who would stand for getting his ass beat but I knew firsthand when you were used to abuse, it didn’t matter how you appeared to everyone else. Abuse was a mental leech. It was cruel and unforgiving. It didn’t care who you were or what you looked like.
“When is your birthday?” I asked him, pulling out my phone.
“May tenth. I’ll turn eighteen, graduate and have nowhere to go. I honestly feel lost, Ms. Foster.”
One side of my mouth lifted in an attempt to smile. “I’m here for you, Zach. Let’s take some pictures of you and call your caseworker for an immediate extraction.” He looked relieved but there was still something bothering him. “What’s wrong?” I asked, a frown knitting my brows together.
“I appreciate what you’re doing for me, Ms. Foster but I honestly hate the thought of going back to that group home right now. I know that probably sounds ungrateful but things aren’t better there. I go days without eating enough because I’m a vegetarian and all they have are meat dishes. I don’t talk to anyone in there and I feel invisible.” His eyes dropped to the tabletop. Once he mentioned not getting enough to eat, I heard the faint, muffled grown of his stomach.
“Let’s get out of here and go have lunch. We’ll talk more when we get there.” I didn’t take no for an answer. I waited for him to follow me then I took us to a nice quiet restaurant that catered to vegan and vegetarian diets.
“I didn’t know this place existed.” Zach marveled at the small downtown restaurant.
“It’s pretty cool. Order whatever you want.” I smiled at him across the table and for the first time since I met Zachary, he smiled back.
Once we got our orders back and he’d started putting food in his belly, I tried to hammer down some details. “Okay, so you have to stay at the group home for six more months until you age out, right?” He nodded while shoveling cheesy bean and rice taquitos into his mouth. Watching him eat and knowing that he was finally getting some decent food meant a lot to me.
“Are you getting abused at the group home?” I quizzed.
“No.” He tensed a little at the question.
“Zach, I’m not trying to minimize the fact that you’re lonely and invisible there. Those are very valid points. I just want to make sure I won’t be sending you into an abusive situation.”
“I don’t get abused there,” he answered in a hushed tone. “I just hate it.”
“If I talked to the caseworker about maybe getting you a room to yourself would that help?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged.
“Let me see what I can do, Zach. You have to let me record the bruises and scratches though. He gave me a reluctant nod. I let him finish his food before I snapped pictures, then I let him order whatever he wanted for dessert while I called the group home.
By the end of my call with the director, Mrs. Matthews, I had Zach out of his foster home and back at the Michael Richmond Group Home. I also secured him a private room since a few of their occupants had been sent to other homes. It wasn’t much but I was able to help.
“Thanks, Ms. Foster.” One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Thanks for listening, thanks for the food and thanks for just being…nice. Not too many people in my life have been nice.”
“The world is full of good people though. I know it’s hard to see that right now but once you’re removed from all this bullshit, you’ll see it. You’ll see the bright spots in the world.”
“Right now, I think you’re the only bright spot in the entire world. Nobody else cares. Or they’re blind.” He shrugged his broad, boxy shoulders then bent down to hug me.
“You need a ride? I can drive you wherever you need to go,” I told him.
“It would sure beat the hell out of taking the bus with a bag full of food.” I made sure to get him another order of food for dinner. I told him to keep it in his book bag and eat it when he was alone.
I’d heard horror stories about group homes and the bullying that went on over trivial things. Situations that outsiders deemed as petty, like food, were likely to get you beat up under the right circumstances. I understood and I wanted to make sure Zachary stayed safe.
When we pulled up the group home and I got out along with Zach, he looked confused. “You don’t have to go in,” he said, shrugging his book bag over his shoulders.
“I want to make sure you get your room and I want to see the room. I also want to acquaint myself with the director. I want her to know you’re not alone in here.”
When I looked at Zachary, I saw what could have become of Kaiden if his life wasn’t cut short. He would’ve grown up to be big and strong and kind.
The director of the group home was a short, round woman with a nasal voice that grated on my nerves. She wasn’t happy to see me in person but that’s what I expected. I wasn’t looking for a warm welcome. I wanted her to associate a face with Zach’s name. Someone who would hold everybody accountable for that young man. I wanted her to know he had support.
