Page 33 of Single Teddy
“It really isn’t,” Monica agreed, reinforcing my conviction that this wellness check was highly overdue.
It had been two and a half weeks since school had started, and the twins had a worse attendance record than even the mostserial truants in high school. And their guardians could ignore my emails, but they couldn’t ignore me at their door.
“Let me know how it goes,” she said, and we walked to our cars.
I sat in the driver’s seat for a few minutes, trying to compose myself and rehearse what I was going to say. It wasn’t something I did very often, but it had to be done when speaking to parents, especially if I wanted to avoid a confrontation. Then I typed in the address on my GPS and took the suggested route to Aster Lane on the western side of the island.
It wasn’t known for its riches. In fact, it was one of the areas that was targeted for gentrification by one of the mayoral candidates in his pre-election promises, which was utter bullshit. Instead of investing in the people struggling to make ends meet, they wanted to kick them out of their homes and turn everything into luxury apartments and hotels.
As I turned on Aster Lane and kept my eye out for number 68, I braced myself for what I was about to face. I really, truly, hoped there was no cause for concern. That it was just…an oversight. A couple of new parents who weren’t entirely sure how school worked. Like Teddy.
Halfway down the street, I stopped in front of number 68, a house that was missing its number, while the gate of the front yard was missing. The garden and lawn were completely wilted and brown, full of trash and broken furniture.
“It’s fine, Wes. Not everyone takes care of their property the same way.”
Especially if they barely made enough money to put food on the table.
I walked up to the porch, trying to keep my composure as alarm bells went off in my head. A beaded curtain stood before me instead of a door, and even when I pulled it to the side, I still didn’t find a proper door left ajar.
“O…kay,” I mumbled and knocked on the wall next to the curtain. “Hello?”
I waited and waited, and when no one came to answer my call, I took a step forward into the house and spoke again.
The inside was in a far better state than the outside looked, but the wood flooring was caked in dust, as were any surfaces I came across before I saw the boys in a room to my right.
They were holding two trucks in the air, making them fly and attack each other, but before they banged them together, they’d whisper a bang and pull them back.
“Hi, Niko. Valentin,” I said, and before I entered the living room, I checked the hallway for any sign of life.
“Mr. Crawford,” Valentin exclaimed, and Niko elbowed him, shushing his brother.
I frowned.
“Is everything okay, boys? Where are your parents?”
Valentin pursed his lips and looked behind me, but he didn’t say anything.
“Sleeping,” Valentin said, only to be shushed again.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep it quiet. Are you boys okay?” I lowered my voice and approached them before taking a seat across from them on the other end of the coffee table. It was also covered in dust. “You missed school today.”
Valentin nodded while Niko shook his head.
“Is something wrong? Can I help you?”
I didn’t want to offer answers to my questions, as experience had shown me kids and adults alike would take those answers and ride with them instead of telling the truth. And I needed to find out what was going on here and whether the child protective services needed to be involved.
“We’re o—” Niko started to say when a booming voice behind me made me jump.
“Who the hell are you?”
I scrambled back to my feet and turned to face the mountain of a man with the long beard, bed hair, and dilated pupils.
“Hi, I’m Niko and Valentin’s teacher, Mr. Crawford. Are you their legal guardian?” I offered him my hand, but he simply stared it down instead of shaking it.
“The fuck do you want?”
I tried to hide my discomfort at the language used in front of the kids and focused on my task at hand.
