Chapter Text
Moonlight painted the country road. Ellie’s worn sneakers bounded along the yellow painted stripes. An hour ago, some headlights had passed by. She’d held her breath, praying quietly that they would keep driving: they had. She was only four. Well, four and a half. The black pavement held all forty pounds of her. She didn’t measure up to the occasional highway signs that she passed by.
Ellie’s little hands hung against the planet-decorated straps of her backpack; her thumbs rested on Venus. She didn’t know where she was walking to, especially at this hour of the night. Her near-toddler mind was too preoccupied with what she was running away from.
Ellie found the shadows of what had been her bedroom an hour ago in the darkness of the night. Creeping footsteps, the sharp stench of her foster-father’s funny juice, a palm twice the side of her belly hanging over her bed joined by soft whispers. She’d kicked him between his legs and ran out the front door dressed in her pajamas and her school backpack; luckily enough, it held all she owned, because she’d only been in that house for two weeks.
Ellie hadn’t lasted a month in the home before that.
The one before that, not a week.
Maybe she just wasn’t meant to have a home. She hoped not.
Ellie wasn’t old enough to know what she’d escaped tonight. She just knew it’d scared her, and she was glad that she was walking in the opposite direction now. This dark, lonely road wasn’t much better though. She was dwarfed by the street signs she passed, and by the street itself. The houses in Wyoming were miles in between. She was probably even more alone than she felt.
The moon lit the silhouette of a farmhouse in the distance.
Ellie’s eyes lit up. She tightened her palms around the embroidered patches of Mars, Venus, and Earth on the straps of her backpack and then quickened her pace as fast as her little legs could take her. The image of the house grew closer.
It was an old farmhouse. Vines clung to the faded, wooden siding. A porch wrapped around it, the paint chipped. There was a large willow tree in the front yard. A tire swing hung from an especially large branch. Ellie’s thoughts were immediately consumed with how much she wanted to ride it. The night breeze brushed her bare arms, nudging her along.
I’ym cold.
There were no lights on inside the house, and no vehicles or other signs of life. It looked empty enough. Ellie bit on her bottom lip, thinking as hard as she could. I wanna go in. Her belly rumbled, supporting her choice. Maybe they have foud. She tiptoed up the old porch steps, hopeful. For anyone else, they would’ve broken, but she was only four: the planks weighed more than her.
The front door was locked shut as Ellie approached, and sealed further behind a second screen door. With the first tug that she gave against the handle, they both swung open, like a breeze had come along and let her in. But it hadn’t. Her eyes shone. “... magik house,” She cooed in a whisper.
Something inside the house seemed to shift, like an expression softening.
The door shut gently behind Ellie, making her giggle. She panned her large eyes over the mudroom she now stood inside, as well as the kitchen and living room beyond it. “Helo?” Undisturbed dust smothered her surroundings. Old family photos hung on the walls, though they were glazed so well with dust that she couldn’t make out the faces, only the blurry form of a young girl, and sometimes a man beside her.
It felt like something lived here. Still, the house was so empty, except for the four-and-a-half-year-old girl that now explored its kitchen.
The cupboards were too tall for Ellie to reach. She fussed and rubbed her hands over her aching belly. Her doe eyes locked onto a chair waiting by the closeby kitchen table. She took five large steps and then wrapped her little palms around the wooden legs of the chair. She dragged it back to the kitchen with great effort. “... up,” She narrated softly as she climbed up the body of the chair.
The house seemed to watch Ellie as she pried open one of the kitchen cabinets. She squinted and peered inside despite the low light. There were cans. She fussed, not realizing food waited inside. She snatched a bag of chips instead, and then scaled down the chair, satisfied. The house groaned.
Ellie waddled through the kitchen to the living room, and then finally to the couch. She brushed her palms over the dusty cushions before climbing atop them. Her bags of chips waited in her lap, half the size of her. They tasted stale, but she didn’t have anything else. She tried to make herself believe they were tasty.
Something started hissing from the kitchen.
Ellie’s eyes lifted. She sprawled over atop the couch to see into the kitchen again. Something was cooking on the stove. She tilted her head. Her belly rumbled at the sudden, steaming aroma filling the first floor of the house. An empty can waited beside the stove; its contents cooked in a skillet pan. “Helo?” She cooed again. No one responded.
Ellie hopped down from the couch. As she waddled towards the kitchen, her eyes caught a brief glimpse of a man, and she stopped. His hair was dark brown and teased with silver edges, making him appear in his forties or so. His eyes were dark, but gentle, and focused on the brewing meal beneath him. He glanced her way. As soon as their eyes met, he was gone, like she’d blinked, having never seen him in the first place.
But she had.
She was sure she had.
Ellie stared, curious. “Helo?” She waddled through the kitchen. Small, grubby hands reached out for the empty space where she’d seen the man. She hoped to find a leg to hug onto, but all she got was air. “Wereyd you go?” She fussed, disappointed.
A phantom pair of eyes watched on softly as Ellie toddler-stomped through the rest of the house in her search. She climbed up the staircase to the rest of the house, scaling each step like a mountain. A hallway waited at the top of the steps. Four doors stared back at her. One had flowers on it. She cooed, and tiptoed closer.
The door was ajar when Ellie approached it, though as soon as her little hand stretched up towards the knob, it slammed shut in her face. The rattle spooked her, and she jumped back. Tears immediately began to billow in her eyes, and she whimpered, beginning to cry like any toddler would.
Another door down the hallway whined suddenly as it opened, like the house was in a mad scramble to soothe the tears spilling down Ellie’s freckled little cheeks. She brushed her sleeve across her nose, sniffling, and then waddled forward, exploring the new bedroom. It looked like it had been a man’s.
The walls were painted a soft, warm brown, which matched the oak bedside dressers. Unlike the rest of the house, there were fingerprints drawn into the dusty furniture. Ellie fit her hand into a palmprint waiting on one of the drawers. Her little hand was swallowed by the silhouette. She cooed.
The room’s bed was unmade. Its blankets were a deep, forest green. A coffee-colored throw blanket laid disturbed atop it. Ellie’s eyes shone at the sight of the blanket. She’d abandoned her own when she ran. She pried open one of the dresser drawers and rested a foot atop it, then managed to climb onto the bed with the added leverage. She bounced atop the mattress when she landed, giggling.
Ellie’s little fingers grabbed at the warm brown throw blanket at the end of the bed. She wrapped herself in it like a burrito, and squirmed inside the warmth. A smile spanned her face, and she giggled. Curious, her focus wandered back to the drawer she’d opened. She leaned forward and tilted her head at what she found inside.
There was a revolver inside the drawer. Ellie’s toddler-brain recognized it as a toy. She freed one of her arms from her blanket-burrito and wrapped her fingers around the handle of the gun. It was heavy in her grip. She struggled with the weight but managed to bring it closer to herself. She didn’t know to be careful about where it pointed. She turned the gun over, preparing to stare right down the barrel.
“Put that down.”
Ellie’s eyes soared. A man stood in the doorway, the same man she’d seen in the kitchen. She pointed her finger at him in recognition. His eyes crinkled, though mainly he was focused on the revolver in her little hands, its tip pointed against her belly. “Helwo.”
The man stepped closer. Ellie watched him behind curious eyes. “Put that down,” He repeated gently, bowing his eyes towards the gun in her hands. “Now,” He added, maintaining his even tone. He watched her from the edge of the bed.
Ellie’s eyes traveled down to the revolver. “Yeah, that gun,” The man narrated. “Put it back where you found it.” That order was too complicated. She furrowed her brow, confused. “The drawer,” He corrected. “Put it back in the drawer now.”
“Ookey,” Ellie cooed. With great effort, she lifted the gun in her hands and then let it sink into the drawer. The man sank, too. He hid his hands inside his pockets. In the absence of the gun, her attention settled on him. The man took a step back when she crawled closer. She peered up at him from the edge of his bed. He returned her gaze. “I’ym Ellie.” She waited.
The man’s breath waited inside his chest. His eyes were sad against Ellie’s face. Mournful. “Whatz your nayme?” She pressed, pouting.
“Joel,” The word was pulled out of the man’s chest before he could stop himself. This kid was so cute. He couldn’t say no to her, just like he’d never been good at saying no to his own toddler. She stuck her hand out to shake. He tried a smile, but didn’t move. “I’m not any good at handshakes,” He lied.
Ellie’s face softened. “Oh. That’s oh-kay,” She comforted, thinking Joel was anxious. He felt his phantom heart shift. “I’ym Ellie,” She repeated. She pointed again. “You’re Joel.”
“I am,” Joel didn’t let his lips curl. He lowered himself down to Ellie’s height atop the bed, and met her doe eyes, across from his own. “Where’s your mama, Ellie?” Her brows furrowed, like she didn’t know what that word meant. “Your mom? Mommy?” She still didn’t understand. “What about your daddy? Where’s he?”
Ellie stared up at Joel like she’d never heard those labels in her whole life, however short it was. His features softened. “Who takes care of you?” She pressed her finger against her own chest. “You?” Her chin bobbed in confirmation. He frowned. “How old are you?”
Ellie counted on her fingers. “I’ym foyur.”
Joel’s heart sagged. “How did you get here tonight?”
“I walkded,” Ellie answered loyally. She’d never had someone ask so many questions about her before.
“You walked all by yourself?” Joel frowned again. His eyes were softer than he’d like against Ellie’s little face. “Do you know where you walked from?”
“Ther… thur… um, Thurmopolice,” Ellie babbled.
“Thermopolis?” Joel translated. He recognized the town name, a small dot on the land in Wyoming about twenty miles east. “You can’t have walked all that way by yourself,” He dismissed gently.
“I didt,” Ellie declared, offended by Joel’s doubt. She crossed her arms across her chest, very official-like. He watched her, entertained. “He chased me for a little, but I walkded awl by myself afftur that.”
Joel’s brows furrowed. “He?” He echoed. “Who’s ‘he’?”
“My fawster daddy,” Ellie replied. “He wohke me up.” Her face scrunched. Joel braced across from her, holding his breath suddenly. “Hiz hand wuz really big on my belly.” She planted her palm against her own stomach. His heart softened at how small she was. “He smelt funny,” She remembered too. “He sed he thought I’yd have secks with him.”
Joel felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Nausea filled the wrinkles in his face. This little girl was barely three feet tall. She didn’t even know the meaning behind her own words. His stomach churned. “Then you ran?” He pressed softly, managing to cover the disgust and rage building in his chest.
“Uh huh,” Ellie bobbed her chin. “He smelt weird.” That seemed to be her chief complaint. Softness brewed in Joel’s eyes. “I’ym sorry,” He furrowed his brow, confused. “Your door opended for me,” She emphasized, promising. “I didint mean to brake in.”
A shallow huff left Joel’s nose. “The door opened for you,” He repeated calmly. “I know you didn’t break in, Ellie.” Delight pooled at the bottom of her eyes. He’d remembered her name. No one had ever remembered her name before. “How about you follow me downstairs, okay?” He was still conscious of the gun a foot from her grasp.
Ellie sniffed the air. “Food,” She remembered, her belly growling at the delicious smell that was filling the house. Whatever had been cooking on the stove was done now. “I’ym hungry.”
“I know,” Joel almost smiled. “C’mon down now.”
Ellie freed herself from her blanket burrito, though her tiny fingers still dragged the fabric behind her as she scaled down the bed. It collected dust on the wooden floors. She reached up, trying to grasp Joel’s hand as he led her down the stairs, but he pulled it away just in time. She pouted, but continued to waddle behind him.
The plate was already waiting on the kitchen table for Ellie when they made it downstairs. Silverware adjourned its place. A giggle fell from her lips. The sound melted Joel, despite how hard he tried not to let it. “Your house iz magik,” She confided as she climbed up onto the kitchen chair.
The wrinkles beside Joel’s eyes crinkled with a shallow smile. He turned his eyes over as Ellie scarfed down the bowl of canned peaches, finding her backpack waiting on the couch. Embroidered planets lined the straps. She followed his eyes. “I liyke space,” She volunteered.
“I can see that,” Joel answered. Ellie noticed that he didn’t sit down with her, or rest his hand on the table or anything like that. Her attention moved past it fast. She peered up at him, waiting. He recognized that look. “Well, what’s your favorite planet, then?” He gave in.
Ellie lit up like a spark. “I liyke Mars,” She declared. “And the moon’s nawt reely a planit, but it’z my secund favrit.” Joel smiled despite himself. “What’z yourz?”
Joel smiled again. Don’t, he warned as he considered his answer. Don’t get attached. “Jupiter,” He shrugged.
Ellie approved. A smile erupted over her face. Joel smiled back, smaller. Any chance at chaining his heart away from this toddler that had stumbled upon his house in the dead of night was disappearing fast.
“Joel?” He hummed in acknowledgment. “Cayn… cayn I sleep over?” His heart melted. “I’yll leave,” Ellie promised after. “... but maybe when it’z nawt so dark out?”
Joel never had a chance of telling Ellie no. Still, he pretended otherwise, and lingered a moment before he nodded. “Sure, Ellie.” He wasn’t going to cast a four year old back into the black night. It was a miracle she’d made it here at all without being run over or taken or worse; he ended that train of thought, he didn’t want to think about it.
“... cayn I keep your blankie?” Ellie’s fingers tightened around the throw blanket she was still clinging onto.
Again, Joel didn't stand a chance. “Sure, Ellie,” He granted again, amusing himself with the idea that she thought she had ‘his blankie’ in her hands. She balled the fabric in her little fist, content.
Joel led Ellie back up the steps. Again, she grasped for his hand, but again he dodged it. She pouted once more, but trailed right after him like a duckling. The gun drawer was closed now. “How about that one?” He pointed to the drawer beneath it. She bobbed her head, and opened that one instead to climb onto the bed. “There you go.”
Ellie held her palm up and waited expectantly. Joel just frowned. “You don’t liyke high-fives?” She thought aloud, remembering his hesitance with the handshake.
Joel’s lips curled. “Exactly,” He praised.
Ellie’s face lit up. She slumped back against the layer of pillows then, and burrito’d herself with her blankie again. Joel watched on with a fondness that he’d never claim. Her eyes wandered over the bed in an abrupt search for something. “What?” He nudged.
“I lefted Blue,” Ellie lamented.
Joel’s brow furrowed. “What’s that?”
“Blue,” Ellie repeated, upset. “She’z a puppy. She’z mine.”
Joel put two and two together. “Your stuffed animal?”
Ellie bobbed her head. Tears started to billow in her large eyes, making Joel’s expression sag. He felt his heart move inside his chest. Fuck. “I hope my fawster daddy duzn’t hurt her.”
Jesus Christ.
Joel began a hunt over his own bedroom, desperate suddenly to fit a plushie into this little girl’s hands, though he already knew he wouldn’t find anything. Reluctantly, his eyes crossed the hallway and landed against the flower-painted door. Sarah. The little girl, burrito’d on his bed, continued to cry underneath him. His feet carried him past Sarah’s door.
Something soft pushed into Ellie’s hands. Her sniffles paused, and she looked up. A plush giraffe stared back at her from the edge of the bed, meeting her gaze with dark, plastic eyes. Her heart immediately adopted him. Tears forgotten, she pulled him close to her chest, inviting him into her blanket-burrito.
Joel watched softly from the bedside. Sarah’s door hung in the corner of his gaze. Walk away, he ordered himself, feeling his heart shift as he watched Ellie cuddle with her new giraffe. Vanish. He couldn’t make himself do it. Don’t get attached. That was becoming impossible, if it wasn’t already.
Ellie dozed off in Joel’s bed, wrapped in his blanket, snuggling Sarah’s plushie. He clawed down a breath, and then leaned down, drawing his other blanket over her tiny body. She snuggled under the added warmth, content. He watched over her until the sun rose.
Sunlight streamed in through the windows, slowly rousing Ellie. She picked her bed-head up from the pillows and relaxed underneath all the blankets. Her belly rumbled inside her cocoon. “... peaches,” She hungered, remembering last night’s dinner.
Ellie wormed her way out of the blankets and scaled the bedside dresser. Her small, socked feet padded against the floors as she ventured downstairs. The house was quiet again. She trailed her eyes over each room, searching for Joel. Her giraffe joined her in her search, hanging from her grip by its hoof. “Joel?”
I didint dream it, Ellie dismissed, squeezing the stuffed animal in her grip. Still, the house seemed so lifeless. With the sun up, all of the dust was much more obvious. Old photos hung on the wall. She stood on her tip-toes to try to see them. A man stared back at her. “Joel,” She grabbed up at his face. He looked younger. He looked happy.
Joel still was nowhere to be found.
Ellie fussed in disappointment, and then waddled to the couch where her backpack still laid. She dug inside and emerged with a scroll, tied closed with shiny red ribbon. She flattened it out over the kitchen table with tiny hands. It was a map, clearly handmade, clearly made by her or another toddler. Two names were scrawled at the bottom corner:
Elly.
Rylee.
Bright red marker made up the general shape of Wyoming. There was a sticker in the top left corner, a gold star. Jaxun, someone had scrawled beside it. A bright blue line spanned from the bottom right corner to the middle. It looked like a path almost: Ellie’s. She dug out a purple marker from her backpack and then continued the line.
Joul’s howse, Ellie added a label to the map. She let the marker hang over the page for a moment before randomly adding a dot to go along with it. “There,” She declared in a babble. Her mind wandered then, and she started to doodle.
Ellie felt someone watching over her shoulder as she began a crude drawing of a dinosaur in the corner of her map. She waited under the feeling, and then threw her eyes up, figuring she’d catch Joel, but the room was empty. “Mmph,” She fussed, and then returned to her drawing.
“He leaved,” Ellie huffed as she colored in her dinosaur. “Every wun duz,” She reminded herself, annoyed she’d thought differently. The house seemed to shift in the wake of her words, like it’d sagged. She picked her head up, aware. “... helwo-”
“What’re you drawin’?”
Ellie jumped so hard that her marker flew. She whipped her head around and realized Joel, standing beside her in no rush, as if he’d been there the whole time. She gaped up at him. “Where’d yu come frum?”
Joel managed to subdue the tug of his lips. “What’re you drawin’?” He repeated gently, lowering himself down to Ellie’s height. She continued to stare up at him. For once, her mind stuck to something, and she crossed her arms across her chest with a humph. “What?”
“You’re magik!” Ellie accused, casting her finger against Joel’s chest. She didn’t touch him though. She could see her finger pressing his shirt, but she didn’t feel anything, only air. Her eyes narrowed.
“Ellie,” Joel backed away an inch, hoping to excuse his lack of matter.
Ellie grasped after Joel. Her hand sailed right through his chest. He became fuzzy, still there, but like static. She touched air. Her face lit up. “Ellie-”
“You’re a ghowst!” Ellie pieced it together surprisingly fast. Joel’s brows furrowed in an attempt to look confused, but she was sure. “Take it!” She demanded, presenting another marker in her grip.
“Ellie,” Joel began.
“Grab it, Joel,” Ellie pressed the marker into his hand, but it sailed right through him like he was made of air. She gasped softly, delighted. A second later, she scaled down the kitchen chair. He watched her, his features bittersweet. He expected her to run out of the house, terrified; instead, she made herself as tall as she could, and then stole one of the family photos with him off the wall.
“What’re you doin’?” Joel watched on, curious.
“Nine… nineteen,” Ellie squinted at the label on the back of the frame. “Nineteen ninetey!” She held the photograph up like it was cold, hard evidence. “That was forever ago! You haveta be dead!”
Joel actually chuckled.
“Don’t laf!” Ellie protested. Despite the excitement, she made sure to delicately put the photo right back where she’d found it. Joel’s heart squeezed. The rest of him was still busy smiling.
“How old do you think I am?” Joel nudged.
“At leest twenty!” Ellie declared. Joel laughed again, despite himself. She didn’t know the rareness of the sound. She only crossed her arms across her chest, feisty. “Whut?”
“Nothin’,” Joel chuckled one last time. He watched Ellie climb her way back into her seat. She’d accepted him being a ghost very fast. She was four. “What’s this you’ve got here?” He touched her paper with phantom fingers.
“My map,” Ellie babbled. “My bestest friend made it.” She pointed down at the names in the corner. Elly and Rilee, Joel’s lips tugged. Neither of them had spelt their name right. “Rilee’s mommy lives there.” She pointed at the star on the map. Jaxun, its label read. “We wur gonna walk togethur. But now it’z just me.”
Joel frowned. “Where’s Riley now?”
“She's dead,” Ellie shrugged. Joel’s face fell. Immediately, he pictured some other four-year-old little girl like the one before him, dead. How little was her casket? His heart strained. “Do you know her?” He found Ellie’s eyes. “Do awl ghosts know each uhther? Cayn you tell her I say hi?”
Joel’s features melted. “I will,” He lied.
“Thank you,” Ellie gushed. Her face lit up.
Joel’s throat closed. “You’re welcome,” He managed. “Now, what’re you drawin’?”
Ellie smiled. “A dinosaur,” She continued to fill in her doodle. A purple, spiky trail protruded from her drawing. “It’z a T. Rex.” She looked up from the paper and eyed Joel’s gray hairs. “Did you evur meet a T. Rex?”
Joel’s lips tugged. “No,” He admitted.
Ellie deflated with disappointment. “Oh. Okey.” Her stomach growled under her space-themed shirt. “Can I have more peechiz?”
“Okay,” Joel agreed. Ellie’s eyes trailed after him to the kitchen. When he reached for one of the cabinets, it opened, like it would for her. Her mouth fell open. He returned her gaze. “I can only move anythin’ that was in this house before I… ‘fore I was like this,” He explained calmly.
“How do yu know?”
“Believe me, I’ve gotten real familiar with the rules.” Joel opened the can of peaches in his grip. He poured the contents out onto the pot on the stove. It began to steam, no doubt offering some sweet smell. He couldn’t savor it.
“How long ago wuz nineteen ninetey?”
Joel’s lips tugged. “I didn’t die in nineteen ninety, Ellie,” He shushed.
“When then?” Ellie pushed. Joel didn’t answer. The hissing of the peaches cooking atop the stove filled the sudden quiet inside the house. “You’re sad,” She realized, face flooding with guilt. “I’ym sorry.”
“It’s okay," Joel soothed, the words leaving him before he could hold them back. “What’s your favorite dinosaur?”
Ellie’s toddler brain managed to capture the sudden shift. She accepted it. “Anklee-o-sawrus,” She answered fast. Joel glanced over, amused. “I read they were good to their babies.”
Joel’s heart squeezed. There was yearning in Ellie’s voice, even if she didn’t realize it. He wondered if this was the first time she’d run away all by herself. He suspected not. “How d’you know all this?”
“I lyke to read,” Ellie’s lips tugged. “But I lefted awl my books with my fawster daddy.” She huffed, and pouted. “I don’t think hey’ll read ‘em.”
Joel’s heart sank again as he remembered everything Ellie had told him the night before. He prayed for her foster-father’s sake that he didn’t try to follow her here. This house didn’t need another ghost to crowd it. “Here you go, kid.” She picked her eyes up from her drawing and lit up at the fresh plate of food that he set down before her.
“Thank you,” Ellie cooed, her mouth already stuffed. “Yfur a gyood cook ffor a ghost.”
Joel blinked away the softness in his eyes. “Don’t talk through your food, Ellie,” He lectured gently. She smiled again, surprised that he still remembered her name. Her bowl was already half empty. He felt like he’d taken in a stray cat. “You’ll choke like that.”
“Iff I choke, will I be a ghowst too?”
Joel’s heart skipped. “We ain’t gonna find out,” He answered calmly. Dread coiled around his chest with that image. He wouldn’t let anything happen to this little girl while she was in this house. He couldn’t. Not again. “Finish your food,” He tapped the table when she retreated from her plate, not yet empty.
Ellie complied. Joel’s features softened. He’d have to offer Sarah the whole world to get her to finish her plate sometimes. On the other hand, it seemed like Ellie was a stranger to the concept of having someone stick around long enough to talk to her, so much so that she jumped when he asked her anything. “Joel?”
“Mm,” Joel hummed in acknowledgment. He watched Ellie return to her doodles.
“Cayun I draw you?” Ellie cooed.
Do not let that happen, Joel’s heart chanted. If that happened, he was a goner. There’d be nothing left between his heart and the little toddler gawking up at him. He pretended like there already wasn’t. “You don’t wanna draw me,” He shushed. “How… how ‘bout how about an ankylosaurus? You said that’s your favorite dinosaur, right?”
“I did,” Ellie gushed, her face lighting up at the fact that Joel remembered. She set onto the paper. Her markers began the crude outline of an ankylosaurus. He watched softly. “I’ym reely happy you’re a ghowst, Joel.”
Joel tried not to be offended by that. “How’s that?” He pushed, amusement waiting in his dark eyes.
“‘Cauz now I cayn stay.” Before Joel could interrupt, Ellie began to explain why he might ever want her around. “I doyn’t know how lowng you’ve bin a ghowst. But I bet it’z lonely. So I can stey. So you woyn’t be awl by yourself.”
Ellie’s doe eyes waited against Joel’s face. They looked sad, even if she didn’t realize. I’m awl by myself, they announced. His heart strained.
“I cayn clean awl the dust,” Ellie added. She already had a prewritten list. Joel wondered how many grownups she’d performed it for. “And I’yll make you drawings.” She held her doodles up to his face. “Theyull make the house pretty. I promis.”
Joel’s heart melted. “You can’t stay, Ellie,” He shushed. His tone hung with a fraction of the same disappointment that immediately washed over her face. Her lip puffed. “Don’t do that,” He begged softly. He couldn’t handle the puppy-dog eyes. Sarah’s had always ruined him too.
“Why cayn’t I stay?” Ellie fussed. Her little hands found her giraffe plushie. She gripped it in her fist, squeezing any comfort out of it. “Pwease?”
“I can’t take care of you, kid,” Joel managed. His voice came out soft, like an apology. “I can’t even breathe air.” His phantom eyes wandered over the house and the dust that blanketed it. His gaze hung on the family photos. “This house is a tomb. You can’t stay in it. I won’t let you.”
Ellie put her hands on her hips. “Whadryugonnadoaboutit?”
Joel’s lips tugged. “Ellie,” He lectured. “You’ve gotta go. I’m sorry.”
Tears billowed again in Ellie’s eyes. Joel tried not to see her puffed lip. “Pwease don’t make me go bayuck on the rode, Joel.” Jesus Christ. A breath left his chest. “I liyke it here. Pwease.” She grasped for the end of his shirt, but her fingers sailed through him. He became fuzzy like static.
“See, Ellie?” Joel backed away from her. “I can’t take care of you. So you’ve gotta go.” She pawed after him again, but he was out of reach now. She hid in her giraffe instead. Her nose tucked into his soft neck. “Kid,” He mourned. “Don’t cry.” She didn’t listen. A sniffle fled from her plushie. “Don’t. Don’t do that.”
Ellie’s giraffe muffled her tears. Joel turned his eyes up to the chipped ceiling, searching for willpower there. Don’t, he lectured himself. Don’t. Don’t you dare. He prayed for the ability to turn his ears off. Don’t give in. She continued to cry underneath him. Fuck.
“Okay,” Joel relinquished. “Okay, okay.”
Ellie’s wet eyes darted up with near suspicious speed. “Ay can stay?” She sniffled.
“Only until I find you someplace," Joel prefaced. “You hear me, Ellie?” She didn’t. All she heard was that she had a Joel, and a place, and a bed, and warm food. She’d never had all that before. “This ain’t permanent.” That word was too big for her.
Ellie’s face lit up with a smile. She stood up on the kitchen chair, steadying herself with the table like she was about to jump forward and tackle Joel with a hug. “Don’t.” He managed to stop her.
Ellie giggled.
He already had his hands full.