Interlude: Solis, Age Fifteen

  Jenny, Diane, Sarah, and Beth had been friends since they were children at the local high school, and now all their children were running around in the same place they had been. Jenny briefly wondered if one day their girls would all be sitting at a table drinking breakfast mimosas on a Thursday.

  “I have to say,” Diane began, “I’m going to miss Leo being home so much next year. Ever since his dad moved back it’s been all ‘split custody this,’ and ‘split custody that.’ I mean seriously?”

  “Show me the court order for that. Sunnvabitch is only interested now? Haven’t heard from him in nigh on six years,” Sarah agreed.

  “Then you’ve heard from him more recently than I have before this,” Diane huffed, gulping down the rest of her drink in one fluid motion.

  “Speaking of Leo, I believe yours, Jenny’s, and my boys are all doing calc early at the community college,” Beth practically whisper-screamed in excitement. “Gosh, I’m just so proud of them.”

  “I wish I had a boy their age,” Sarah sighed. “Maybe then that little Solis boy of yours, Jenny, would teach mine how to be a genius too.”

  Jenny rolled her eyes. “He’s not my boy, Sarah. He’s my daughter's best friend's brother, who I pay to tutor my son. I’m sure he’d tutor your daughter if you asked.”

  “And let that boy near my girl! No, ma’am. She’d fall head over heels. I’m pretty sure she has a little crush even now, not having said three words to him.”

  Beth cut back in, shifting the topic back, “Please, Jenny, he’s basically yours. I’ve seen him with you more than I have that uncle of his. What’s his name again?”

  “Beth. I have just as little clue as you do. I’ve asked, but I never seem to know. I think it’s Mike or something.”

  Sarah raised her hand like she was on a game show and knew the answer. “Yeah, Mike, his boy helps Mark with landscaping sometimes. That boy, Solis, refuses to set up a bank account. It’s the funniest thing. You hear, Mark told me he cited religious exemptions. Cracked me up."

  The table went silent for a moment.

  “Has anyone actually seen his uncle?” Beth finally asked.

  “It’s none of our business,” Jenny said through another drag of alcohol. “They look well fed, both top of their class. Hard workers, too. Maybe we don’t see the uncle, but whatever he’s doing, it’s working better than what half the parents in the neighborhood are doing.”

  “Still, it’s more than a little worrying.” Beth sighed

  “Leo likes him,” Diane put forward. “They’re not best friends or anything, but apparently he’s really nice. Wouldn’t hurt a fly type. Good at conflict resolution, he says. Hasn’t been bullying in his classes at all."

  "My Taylor is friends with them both, too. A little odd, jumps a bit much,” Beth offered. “What about Maya?”

  “His sister? She’s good.” Jenny offered, feeling a headache come on. “She was at the sleepover with the girls last weekend. Brought the huzz and I hand written thank you notes.”

  She didn’t mention how the girl slept with her shoes under her pillow. Or how, while all the other girls brought a suitcase full of clothing -- and the majority of a Sephora store -- Maya had brought a camping sack with water, a medicine kit, snacks, and a portable charger. She especially didn’t mention that the girl had woken up three times in the middle of the night and snuck to the living room to call her brother to make sure he was safe. Not okay. Not alright. Safe.

  “My daughter says she’s the only girl in the eighth grade that doesn’t have a ‘celebrity crush’ Who doesn’t have a crush at that age?”

  Jenny mentally sighed and dropped her nuke to talk about anything else. “How’s Brad these days, Dianne?”

  Jenny stood, leaning over the marble kitchen island, blankly poking at a salad she had made. The house was quiet. Her daughter Ruth was upstairs, and the only sound came from the AC vents.

  After a few more minutes of picking at the greens, her husband came in from the garage and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “How was brunch? Not good, I take it? You’re moping.”

  “I am not moping,” Jenny shot back.

  “What would you call this then? You’re practically bursting with excitement to tell me the latest gossip usually.”

  Jenny sighed, finally letting her fork drop. “Greg, do you remember when Ruth had that nightmare a few months back. How she screamed and screamed even after she woke up?”

  Greg was more cautious now, “Yeah?” He slowly said, wondering where his wife was going with this story, no doubt.

  “Well, I was talking with my friends at brunch and the topic of Maya came up, and I was thinking about it, and last week, when the girls had that sleep over Maya woke up three times because of nightmares.”

  “Really?” Greg frowned. “I didn’t hear a thing.”

  “Neither did the girls. She just walked into the living room and started to call her brother. Full sobbing, but not a sound. Tears streaming and streaming down her face, but there’s not a peep from her. She didn’t notice me up, and when I asked what was wrong, she said she had a really bad nightmare was all.”

  Her husband nodded, “A bit weird. Yeah. You think she’s alright?”

  “I don’t know.” Jenny sighed again. “But she literally slept with her shoes underneath her pillow. She told Ruth it's because she liked having them close. And the bag she brought wasn’t for a sleep over... It seemed more like a go bag than anything.”

  Greg again stayed silent, but wore a thoughtful expression.

  “Greg,” Jenny started. “Solis works for you sometimes. Have you ever seen his uncle?”

  “No," Greg shook his head. "I haven’t.”

  “I think they’re alone in that duplex down the street. I don’t think there is an uncle.”

  “Jen, now hold on.” Greg brought her into a hug. It was warm and comfortable, and she found herself melting into it with ease. “That’s a big leap. If they were alone, the school would know. They couldn’t have gotten in or stayed in without CPS getting involved."

  “How?” Jenny asked. “Actually, how? They’re perfect, Greg. Perfect. Eerily so. Both straight A’s. Solis is practically a genius. They never get in trouble or even risk it. They’re polite. Look athletic and strong for their age. There’s no reason to check.”

  “So what are you saying? If you’re right and we call someone, and you’re right, what happens? They get taken by the state and separated instantly?”

  “I don’t know! All I know is that was the first time Maya ever accepted a sleepover and Ruth has been trying to get her to come since they met, but what if they’re in trouble? What if they need help. Or god forbid the uncle is real but he’s abusing them.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I talked to Solis? Man-to-Man. Make sure everything’s alright.”

  Jenny was almost shaking with fright, but she nodded. “Could you do that for me?”

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  “Of course, love.” Then her husband leaned down and gave her a gentle peck on the forehead before bringing her head into his chest. “Anything for you.”

  The sun was beginning to crest the horizon, painting Greg’s backyard in shades of orange to match fall leaves. He had hired Solis to help him replace a few of the rotting boards on the back deck. He could’ve done it himself, but it was easier with two, and it gave him an excuse to talk with the kid.

  The kid was good, too. Knew his way around the tools and didn’t crack himself in the thumb trying to drive a nail. Bare minimum, but sometimes that was enough.

  “All done, want a Gatorade or something from the fridge. I’m getting a beer, but you can’t have that.”

  “A Gatorade would be nice, sir.”

  He came out with the drinks a moment later and took a seat, motioning for Solis to do the same, and he did.

  “You know,” he started, buying himself enough time to find the words, but forcing himself to start. “My wife and her friends… they talk. A lot. About school, about the soccer team. You got brought up recently.”

  He watched Solis stiffen. The boy flicked his eyes to three exits: the back door into the house, the stairs leading to the yard, and the railing. Greg mentally sighed. That all but confirmed one or the other of his wife's theories. If Solis was just nervous after that, it'd be a normal kid thing, but he looked ready to bolt. Greg had hoped that, for once, his wife would just be wrong, but that woman always seemed to know what was happening.

  “They think you’re a genius, which is probably true, but I also see you out here all the time doing this job or that job while going to school. You’re going to burn yourself out.”

  “My uncle works hard, too,” Solis gave him a smile, and for the first time, Greg saw just how… fake it looked. “It’s just how the family is, sir.”

  Leaning back, Greg gave Solis an appraising gaze. The boy was growing. Just in high school and a few inches shy of six feet. “I’m going to tell you a lesson I wish I learned when I was younger. Being a man means taking care of your people. You’re doing that, but no man does it alone.”

  “I'm not alone.” Solis said, sounding a little indignant, and there it was in his voice too. He could hear the lie now. “There’s my uncle.”

  “Can I meet your uncle?”

  “Sure, just let me know when and I’ll let you know next time he’s in.”

  “And if I drop by randomly after a little while?”

  Solis went silent.

  “Look. Jenny and I just want to make sure you and your sister are safe. Maya is best friends with Ruth, and it’d break our hearts if anything happened to either of you. We don’t need to know anything, except that you’re safe and no one is hurting you or your sister. Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that?”

  Solis did, and this time Greg didn’t see the lie, if there was one.

  “No. We’re safe.”

  “Then I don’t need to know more. Not about uncles, or strange behavior. Just know that we’re here for you if you need anything, and our doors are always open whether that be for a night or a year.”

  The silence stretched out. Solis nodded softly to himself. He looked small, but eventually he turned to the deck boards. "I’ll replace the two-inch nails on the underside with three-inch ones. They’re old right now and will have to be replaced soon anyway.”

  Greg just nodded and patted his own knees. “Well. Best get to it.” He didn’t push back. A man had to have his pride after all.

  Three months after that conversation, Solis and his sister appeared more regularly within the Thorne household and more in groups outside it. To Jenny’s chagrin, it was, yet again, the talk of brunch.

  “I have no idea what’s changed. I’ve never seen those kids so alive. I didn’t know they could smile like that, and Maya is letting the girls teach her how to put on makeup! The other week the whole girls' soccer team took turns trying to pretty her up.”

  “They’re both in the play this year with my son. Well. Maya is doing backstage work, but Solis is acting in it."

  Jenny had also confirmed to herself that, yeah, the uncle wasn’t real. She hadn’t told anyone. Not even Greg. She had installed a camera and pointed it at their house, then set it to fast-forward over two months of time. Not a single car entered or left.

  She kept it to herself. No uncle was good. No uncle was better than sick, awful uncle. Those two siblings had a good thing going for them, and she wasn’t about to start mucking about where she didn’t belong. She just wished her friends would shut the hell up about them. The last thing anyone needed was a neighborhood scandal over nothing about anything.

  “Dianne, I hear your ex is looking for sole custody now?” Jenny said.

  Ruth leaned over, her chin resting on Maya’s shoulder as she looked at her friend's poster. “That’s one photo. It’s of you and Solis from last month.”

  She could feel her best friend rolling her eyes. “The prompt is about ‘Visual Representation of Identity’ I have artwork about myself up there. That counts.”

  “It’s a C-choice that’s for sure.” Ruth agreed, happy with her little play on words. “You need to at least do an ancestral anecdote. That one was on the rubric. I did one about my great aunt Clarrisa losing her teeth in her grandson's wedding cake. What are you gonna put?”

  Her friend went quiet for a long while, staring off into space. Just as she was about to check that her friend was still alive, Maya spoke. “My mom used to make this bread. Every Tuesday. It was dense as anything and heavy as a rock, but it smelled like rosemary. We’d heat it in a pan and eat it with warm honey.”

  Maya never spoke about her mother or her father, so Ruth listened intently. “That’s really sweet,” she finally said after it was clear Maya wasn’t going to continue. “Do you have a picture of her?”

  “No,” Maya said. “She didn’t believe in pictures. Thought they stole your soul.”

  “Oh,” Ruth replied lamely.

  They worked in silence, and by the time they parted ways. Ruth didn’t say anything about how, by the end of it, she didn’t know anything more about her best friend's family than when they started.

  “It’s fine.” She whispered to herself. “She can afford the C.”

  Like that, a year passed. Calm and quiet, but things didn’t stay that way forever.

  It was a chill spring afternoon when Solis came to Greg’s garage. Greg had been working on an old project car from the 1980s. The neighborhood kids came round from time to time, sometimes their parents did too, to talk about it or to lend a hand, so he wasn’t too surprised when Solis appeared, even though it was late.

  What surprised him was the thick manila envelope the boy held and the reluctant, nervous posture he wore. A rarity for the boy.

  “Hey Solis! Whatcha’ got there?”

  “You know how you said I could come to you if I needed help? That you wanted to make sure my sister and I are safe?”

  Greg’s blood cooled, and his heart fell straight into his stomach. He sat up straighter. “Yes, and that offer still stands.”

  Before Greg could think anymore or even process what was happening, words started spewing from Solis’s mouth.

  “My uncle isn’t real. I made him up. Bought a fake ID from overseas and got a construction worker to pretend to be him. I lied and told him my uncle forgot his ID while on a long haul job. Paid him for it, but he just thought he was helping me out. My sister is actually my half-sister. Same mother. We ran away from a compound out of the north east. A cult. They’re called The Church of the Celestial Heir.”

  Greg frowned. He had heard that name before. “There were some articles on them when I was just out of college. It was a huge thing. The leader got a bunch of women pregnant to fulfill some made up prophecy about being… born under a solar eclipse.”

  Solar.

  Solis.

  Greg paled further, and the young man couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “That’s ‘Father’... my father. Biologically. He’s my… dad, I mean.”

  Desperately, Greg wanted to ask why he didn’t just go to the police, but he held his tongue. The boy looked about ready to bolt, so he remained calm and tried his best not to move too much.

  “I’m sixteen,” Solis began again. “One of the reasons I chose this state is because I can petition for legal emancipation if I can prove I’m self-sufficient. I don’t have bank records, but I’ve kept track of every dollar I’ve earned through working, where I spent it, how I spent it. Owed taxes that I’ve saved and withheld, everything. I have excellent academic standing and Maya has been well taken care of for the last three years. She’s well fed, socalized, intelligent and popular.”

  Solis hardly breathed, continuing in a torrent of words. “But that doesn’t matter. It solves my problem, but the state will still take her before I can finish filing the paperwork. I need you to be a shield for me. Introduce me to a family lawyer and be a character witness, so I can become her legal guardian.”

  “Can I see those papers?” Greg asked, gentle as he could.

  The boy basically flinched out of the garage and had taken several steps back. Greg really thought he was going to run, but he didn’t. It took a moment, but hesitantly, the folder was handed over.

  Everything was tracked. Everything was in order. For three years. Since the day he moved into the duplex down the street.

  “You’ve been thinking about this since you moved here.” Greg acknowledged.

  “Before that,” Solis shook his head. “I tried three other school districts before this one. This was always the plan.”

  “Why now?”

  “Because Maya has started talking about college, about what she wants to do when she’s older, and neither of us can do any of that if we don’t exist on paper.”

  There was silence in the garage for a long moment as Greg continued idly flipping through the papers. Finally, he handed them back.

  “You worked hard on this. You did good. I’ll make some calls first thing tomorrow. I know a lawyer friend.”

  He thought the boy was going to break down sobbing right there, but he didn’t. The boy stumbled and practically snatched the papers.

  “Okay. Yeah. Yes. Should I come by in the morning?”

  Greg nodded. “Yeah, I’ll call in for work. My friend should be able to get you in.”

  Weeks later, Greg sat across from a long-time friend turned attorney.

  Marcus Throne looked down at the written testimonies, papers, and a couple of pictures. "This is bad Greg."