#Evelyn would rip him apart on the spot if she knew the truth

[scratchandplaster]

Stack The Deck - Here and back again

CW: Elliot's mother having a tough time, guilt, stalking

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The bags had piled up outside the building now, a cluttered mess between a yard sale and bulk trash, and Evelyn still wasn't done yet. Done with the packing, the cleaning, the endless calls to that son-of-a-bitch landlord, but not this. Box by box she lifted out of the small apartment and with the rabbit long gone, it was soon left empty.

What now looked more like a wasteland made from drywall used to be Elliot's whole pride, the first station of his new life.

Even though the neighborhood was more than shady and the rooms overpriced, they had been ecstatic when he finally could afford to live on his own, not only because it was about time he freed himself from their two-room fleabox, but to also give him back some confidence. It had worked, sure, at least until now.

She was quick to organize the change in housing, it wasn't even New Year's Eve yet and everything had gone smoothly so far, before the double rent continued to eat up the money they didn't have.

Evelyn was told to watch out, so illuminated by neon lights she struggled to carry all the weight at once, her back twisting and bending into grotesque angles to safely maneuver down the staircase. Spine against the rail, feet searching carefully for the next step, she was at least useful for something.

Elliot's mood had taken a dip in the last few days. Every hour, the nurses checked up on them and every hour he seemed to give up all the strength left in him. 

Not that it was hopeless, no, she knew she could help. She, of all people, understood what was stashed deep down inside of him. She was there to help if her boy would just finally talk.

When he did, he begged her not to go alone, to at least ask her brothers to aid her. So much fear didn't fit her son. Nevertheless, it was practically pouring out of him, every waking second he-

She caught herself, again. Feet placed firmly onto the dirty concrete, she had nearly slipped down the few stairs that kept her from leaving.

This won't be forever, we didn't lose him.

Maybe his father had more luck. The days he was out on the road now grew into weeks...

Keep it together, just a bit more. We have no space for self-pity.

Mountains of clothing, all neatly folded and stacked into the cardboard, joined each other. Evelyn had saved the trip to her car for last, uncertain how risky multiple rounds would be for her. Maybe her son's warnings weren't in vain, even in broad daylight, nobody knew for sure.

The world had become a madhouse, but that didn't mean she belonged in one.

What couldn't be sold and given away was free to take; and why not: any shirt with tight sleeves was out of question now. Zippers, gloves - even his favorite sweater with the buttons at the front - they had to go.

She hoped to keep it stashed away somewhere, all his stuff, so she could return it to him again. No space for that either.

Piling the boxes on top of each other, Evelyn stepped out onto the cluttered sidewalk, the rough edges of the carton already digging into her fingers. She only had to make it down the street to her car, followed by a half-hour drive home.

Maybe there was time to decorate before they could bring Elliot home; his room had to be a gentle welcome after weeks between drips and resident physicians.

Whatever came next, she had to make it easy for him.

"Oh, ma'am, let me help you with that!" a bright voice suddenly called to her from behind.

That's how people get robbed, probably.

"I'll manage," she responded dryly, not slowing down for even a second, "don't worry!"

Just a few more steps kept her separated from her destination; the stomps echoed up to the back of her neck, but she was nearly done with all of-

Accompanied by a smack, the upper box slipped down onto the wet cement and what had been so carefully wrapped up now soaked in the dirty excrement of the city.

Not even this she could do right.

As Evelyn came to a stop, she fought to keep the tears back, tried to think of the happy moments, not what waited for her after she locked the remains of her son away. Through the veil of blurred tears, she made out the person who had caught up by now, already bent over the pavement and started to place the worn-out books and few shirts back together.

"Thank you," she mumbled weakly, not sure how much she trusted her voice.

The head full of wild curls looked back up at her, a friendly smile on the lips: "No problem, ma'am. I can carry this for you, my pleasure!"

He was tall, not as tall as her, but that rarely happens anyway. It'll be fine, she supposed, and felt the urge to hit herself for being so rude, mistrusting or whatever gnawed its way through her chest.

Evelyn returned the smile and signaled the stranger to walk the last few meters with her.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, it's quite slippery out, so I guessed you could use a helping hand. We look out for each other here."

"Ah," she continued to chit-chat, too tired to stop herself, "you live around this place too?"

He walked right next to her, as if he already knew where to go... Come on, don't be like that. Besides, enough people had arrived at the street meanwhile, so what was there to worry about?

He looked pensive for a short second, then explained how he stayed just a few blocks further down. It made sense to Evelyn, he did look like he belonged. Between bald treetops and dirty snow, she questioned how she had become so bitter.

"Well, you don't seem to stay for long anymore," the man ripped her back to reality, as they stopped in front of her car, "I hope the move is not too far, the fuel prices are going crazy lately."

The quick glance he took at her license plate betrayed him, though.

So you do want to rob me, boy, just not right now.

He was free to do so, honestly, nothing more to get here besides scrap metal.

"Very far, actually, upcountry. I'll miss the sea."

"Oh." The stranger looked like she just slapped him across the face: "Well...good luck, then."

He let his eyes wander back to the building, as if he just detected the pile of leftover plastic bags laying next to some kind of alley. All carefully placed down in the last hour.

"Thank you, truly. Maybe you find something useful in there," Evelyn shrugged the exhaustion away, "The smoothie maker behind the ironing board, if you like. I don't know if it's still working, couldn't get it going."

With him distracted for a moment, she took the chance to bring the car door between them and the boxes onto the backseat. Enough small talk for today.

"Thank you, ma'am. Have a safe drive...", the stranger whispered vacantly, before taking another intense glance at the back of her car. A weird man, yet helpful. Whatever.

She was done, at least for today.

As she pulled out of the tight parking space and onto the street, the tension eased from her jaw and hunched shoulders. Evelyn knew her family had to weather through what would follow, one step at a time, they could make it work - together.

--------

Plenty of clothes, nothing flashy or with print. All the wool sweaters felt very quaint, but he could help him with that too. Put something nice on that body.

One or two high-school textbooks were stuck between them, geography and history of all things. Flipping through the trash bags on the side of the road, he hoped for a more...personal discovery.

A diary? Maybe old photos, if he was lucky.

Upcountry, huh? The pressure under his heart made him swallow thickly. Please give me more time.

His thumb slipped over a stack of old piano booklets, bound by a frail rubber band. To use again soon, he hoped.

Rearranging the bulk trash and fitting everything that appeared worth it into his own bag, he knew how this looked in the long run. Nobody had to know that they had met today, it would only upset Elliot even more.

He really is that delicate, he thought with a smile, not intending to stop his scavenging until he had the most valuable treasures gathered in one place. Anything to keep him close.

Morris would give them back, eventually, maybe, when he finally got his hands on what he was looking for.

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