Free My Name Is River Blue by Noah James Adams

rare.
    "River,
these are for you," said Miss Martin, nodding at the water and protein bar.
"I thought you might need a snack. How are you doing?"
    "I've been
cold, thirsty, and hungry for hours."I tore the wrapper from the
protein bar before I attacked it.
    I was already
big for my age, and I had the natural appetite of a boy in the beginnings of a
growth spurt. As a state kid, I knew better than to play with food, so I ate
anytime I had the chance. I glanced at Miss Martin's watch and saw that it was
already three o'clock, which meant that I had been at the police station for over
four hours and had not eaten anything since breakfast seven hours ago. What was
taking so long to fix Trevor?
    "River, I'm
Detective Walls, and I'm going to be working with Miss Martin today to help
you." He grinned with teeth that were stained like a dirty toilet bowl,
and his breath reeked of cigarettes and coffee. Spider veins raced through his
bulbous nose, reminding me of the homeless drunks who lived under the viaduct
in the old part of town. I suspected that the man had no interest in my welfare
and that he was an accomplished liar.
    "How's
Trevor? Did he get stitches?" I spoke while I chewed, and I didn't care if
it was impolite to talk while I ate. I was starving, and Mrs. Paulson wasn't
there to correct my poor manners or my grammar.
    Detective Walls
glanced at Miss Martin, whose smile faded into quivering lips before she
answered. "River, Trevor was hurt badly. It was very serious. Didn't you
know that? I'm sorry, but Trevor died at the hospital three hours ago."
    I stopped
chewing and studied the faces of the adults. I knew that Trevor was hurt when
he fell from the tree house because he wasn't moving and worse, after he hit
the ground, he didn't cry. He made a sound like a short grunt, then nothing
more. Trevor was only five years old, but it still didn't seem such a long fall
to me, and it never occurred to me that he might die. I wondered how badly Mike
felt, and how angry his mom and dad were at him for pushing his little brother
out of the tree house.
    Senator and Mrs.
Paulson had punished Mike a few times for being mean to Trevor, but if they
turned their backs, Mike would still give his little brother a hard time. I
felt sorry for Trevor, and I would usually play with him to make up for how his
older brother treated him. The younger boy had begun to act as if I were his
real brother, and it made Mike angry when Trevor said that he liked me best.
    When he was
acting bossy, Mike would tell me that I could only play with him and not Trevor,
and Mike always had to have his way. I was just a state kid, and what I wanted
didn't matter to him. There were times when Mike was nice to me, and there were
other times when he liked to remind me that his house was not my real home. Still,
for the most part, we got along pretty well because I usually tried to do what
Mike wanted and because he knew not to push me too far.
    I was sad about
Trevor's death, but by that age, I rarely showed my emotions as I did when I
was younger. I had begun to change when I left the Abernathy's' home where I
had given my whole heart to a family just to lose them. I grew even more reserved
after Mr. Carver gained my trust only to betray me in the worst of ways. I
gradually stopped assigning much emotional value to any relationship. By the
time I went to live with the Paulsons, I had a difficult time expressing myself
in a way that most people would find normal.
    "Are they
mad at Mike?" I asked. Mike could be a pain in the butt, but I knew that
he didn't intend to cause his little brother serious harm. As was normal for
Mike, he just didn't think before he did something selfish and stupid.
    Miss Martin
acted surprised by the question. "Why would they be mad at Mike?"
    "Cause
Trevor died," I said. Why didn't she get that?
    "River, I
need you to tell me what happened today at the tree house," said Detective
Walls. "I need you to tell me how Trevor got hurt. Take your