Interlude: Solis, Age Twelve

  He had all the paperwork in hand. Most of it was fake. In truth, all of it was fake, but most of it looked real, and the parts that strayed a little far were close enough that a random school administrator wouldn't know the difference.

  The last time he had tried this was four months ago, and he had failed to realize that the school required a notarized document for leasing, which wasn't something he could photoshop.

  He and his sister ended up having to leave the state after that - it was too risky to stay and try another school district. Finding a good spot to settle was difficult beyond measure. Everyone knew each other in rural areas, and they didn't have a house, just a shitty old car he had stolen and slept in. Someone would notice sooner or later.

  Then there were the more urban schools. They were fine, and due to the high turnover, missing documents or a sketchy story that would usually raise red flags were often lost before anything could be done about them. Being understaffed seemed like a bitch and a half. He didn't want to, but he'd try that one next if his plans hadn't worked by year's end, only six months away.

  The difficulty was that he was being selfish. He knew that, but couldn't help himself. He wanted the best. Not just acceptable. He didn't run away from the compound just so he could rot away. His sister deserved that much too, and he'd be damned if either of them got anything less than the best.

  The issue was that the best actually checked his documents. Getting caught by CPS or the police was on the table, and it had almost happened the last time. The only reason he got away was that he checked around the school before his appointment time and saw people who shouldn't have been there checking license plates in the parking lots.

  This time, things would be different. Solis had done everything right. He triple-checked the requirements, stole cardstock, and used it to print a commune birth record for himself, his sister, and his fake uncle, who had a caregiver affidavit (fake, of course) to explain why it was the uncle and not the father registering them.

  Solis had sublet a house under that same fake uncle's name for the first floor of a duplex. The landlord hadn't cared much after he said he'd pay in cash. The bills were issued in the landlord's name, but the sublease agreement should serve as proof of residence.

  Securing all that money for the sublease agreement and security deposit had been rough, and he had stolen most of it in the form of wallets, bikes, and the like.

  The vaccination records were less painful, and had been taken care of a while back. People didn't ask as many questions in rural areas, especially when he said they were homeless. Anytime someone said something along the lines of "hold on while I get someone," he just walked outside, got in his car, and drove off repeatedly until someone didn't ask questions and gave his sister and him the fucking vaccines.

  The clinic that finally didn't ask questions had him staying in town for a month between vaccines. He didn't technically have to - they got a provisional record that they could then use at any clinic - but Solis liked the nurse, and they didn't ask questions. It also let him do odd jobs to earn some money for food.

  He was ready. He had covered everything.

  With his folder of fakes, Solis walked into the front office. Behind the counter, a woman in a floral cardigan looked up at him. Her attention turned from the paperwork to the small, twelve-year-old boy in front of her.

  "Good morning," she said, her voice bright as if she had just eaten a particularly nice-tasting strawberry. "How can I help you today?"

  Solis took the manila envelopes tucked under his arm and held them up to the woman.

  "My name is Solis. Uh, Solis Johnson. Ma'am. My uncle talked to the office on the phone the other day. He's at work right now so I'm supposed to bring you these documents… for the registration."

  "Yes! I do remember that call," she tapped her fingers against the keyboard. Each tap sent Solis's heart racing. Did he get everything? How fast could he get to his car?

  "He mentioned he'd stop by," she said, a distinctly sour expression passing over her face. "You must be his nephew then, nice to meet you. You can call me Mrs. Gallaer."

  Mrs. Gallaer then gently plucked the folders from Solis and began laying them out. "Did he happen to include a copy of his photo ID in here as well?"

  Solis breathed out. He had planned for this.

  "He didn't give me his ID. He can't drive without it. He said the Certificate of Blessing from our church would be enough?"

  The woman's expression faltered for a moment as she looked at the odd paperwork in front of her. Solis held his breath. It wasn't conventional, but to his surprise, on doing some research, the U.S. seemed to have a lot of allowance for 'my religion says I don't have to', which was great for him. Meant he didn't need an official birth certificate to enroll in school.

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  "Oh," she continued, "I see. Uhh. Usually, we really do need that state ID to match the lease, but since he's at work, we can't really do that, can we?" She sighed, looking back at the screen. "I'll start the file with the religious record, but the principal or I will really have to see your uncle with his ID before next week."

  Solis's heart sank, and he was most of the way to walking out the door and calling this whole state a bust, but the woman kept talking, so he stayed put.

  "What else do you have? A lease and utility bill. Uhh. Sorry, the utility doesn't seem to be your uncle's?"

  "We sublease," Solis snapped back to the moment, the question triggering some sort of muscle memory response from how much he practiced. "If you look at the lease, you'll see the utility matches with our landlord."

  "Ope. You are correct! Thank you for that. For subleasing I'll put it in as provisional for now, but the district likes these things notarized. Not strictly necessary though."

  Solis wanted to scream. He had specifically chosen this school because the district website said they didn't require them.

  "All that means is that the district might send a mailer by the house. Just to verify you and your uncle actually live there."

  "And my sister?"

  "What was that hun?"

  "My sister too. Her paperwork is also there."

  The smile returned in full on the woman's face. "It sure is! Good work you!"

  Solis fought his instincts to preen like a fucking bird. He could deal with a mailer. He did actually live there after all, or would if he could figure out what the hell to do about his uncle not existing and there being no ID.

  "Lastly, what was the name of your and your sisters' last school? We'll need to send for your records."

  Another prepared response. "We were homeschooled, but I have the list of courses we took, as well as the ones we did on Khan Academy. Scores included." He pulled out additional sheets of paper that he hadn't handed her before. The results, as he had learned from a quick Google search, were, apparently, impressive. They also had the added benefit of being true. Even through the constant travel, he always found a library to stop at so he and Maya could keep up with their schooling.

  Solis had completed Calculus I, while his sister was a bit behind in Algebra II, but she had four years to catch up. Sciences, they were on track. Their history was rather shit, which made sense. English was mostly classic readings like Edgar Allan Poe or Frankenstein. There was one about a dude turning into a roach, but he forgot what it was called.

  All he knew about that book was that the author didn't want it published, and his asshole friend made a profit off it after his death. Solis had stolen the book instead of buying it, so he didn't feel that bad about reading it. Allegory for depression or something. He didn't know.

  "Oh wow," Mrs. Gallaer said, voice dropping flat in surprise. "How old are you?"

  "Twelve ma'am."

  "Well, the school tests homeschoolers for proficiency, but we can get the testers out here as soon as tomorrow, but we'll need to see your uncle down here first… Mary Shelly… how'd you like the book?"

  "Not much ma'am. I didn't like the doctor much at all."

  That got a soft smile out of the woman, "A shame, but I agree. He is a bad man." After a few more keystrokes, she turned completely to face Solis.

  "It sounds like your uncle, or whoever is teaching you, is doing very well. I've got everything I need from you. Ope, almost missed the emergency contact card. Just put the secondary point of contact there and we'll be good to go!"

  Solis put down a number for one of his burner phones and smiled at the woman.

  Once he was back in the car, he almost started crying in frustration, but he held back.

  "This sucks." He said to himself, hands shaking. "This really really sucks."

  Less than fifteen minutes later, he was in their sublet two-room duplex. Maya was buzzing with excitement as he came in, and he instantly dropped his weariness. She couldn't see him like that.

  Oh gods within, how would he tell her it wasn't going to work? That they'd have to be going again. She really liked her new room. He had managed to find a place that came furnished, a major miracle in his eyes.

  "How'd it go? How'd it go?" She grabbed onto his hand and began hopping from one foot to another.

  "Pretty good," Solis lied. "Just one minor hiccup, but it's easy enough to solve."

  Maya threw up his hand and began cheering. "It's going to be fun, right! You said they have a soccer team?"

  Solis ruffled the demon's hair, "Yeah Ya-ya," his little nickname for her. "I gotta go for a little bit to iron out that minor thing. Eat the leftovers in the fridge."

  "O-kay", she elongated the word and ran over to the fridge and her stepstool so she could reach the countertop.

  Solis got back into the old, rusted car, a pile of books on his seat so he could see better, and drove to the library.

  A Google search of "where to buy fake IDs" came up with internet threads about sketchy websites and a few Reddit stories about finding a fake maker in college at a party.

  He didn't trust the websites, so... random college party it was. His face flushed in embarrassment, and he wanted to curl up and die.

  He'd look so fucking stupid showing up to a college party. Not only would they not let him in, but they'd probably ask whose little brother he was. It took all his control not to scream in the silent library, and he only just succeeded.

  "This sucks," he whispered instead.

  Two hours later, and a bus ride to the nearest small college netted him a few large buildings called "frats". Maybe… maybe he'd start outside. Try to joke.

  Older girls thought kids were cute, right? He could run up and say his older brother wanted to know where to get a fake?

  Gods, he was going to die of embarrassment.