Other Half
March 30, 1993
When Jason Flores is only three years old, he sits in a shopping cart in the backyard of a house he’s never seen before. His mama told him she would be right back, but Jason doesn’t know how long ‘right back’ is. He plays with the straps on the bag she had left in the cart with him for a while before grabbing onto the edge of the cart. He stands up and looks over the side. It’s not so far, but he’s never been allowed to climb out of a cart himself before.
The neighbor, Mrs. Stevenson, finds Jason two hours later when she takes out the trash. He’s crying, with his fingers gripping the side of the cart. Jason looks up at her and slowly raises his hands out towards her.
“What’s your name?” She asks.
“Jason Flores,” he tells her, looking proud as he says his name correctly. She lifts him out of the cart and frowns when Jason tells her that he’s hungry. She grabs the bag sitting in the car with him and takes Jason by the hand to lead him into her house.
Jason asks for milk and Mrs. Stevenson gives him a cup as he sits at the table. She makes him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then calls Matt Flores, the renter in the house next to her. This has to be his brother, Mrs. Stevenson thinks.
Matt shows up twenty minutes later, wearing dirty overalls with grease across his forehead. He rushes into Mrs. Stevenson’s house and grabs his little brother. He tucks Jason’s head under his chin and Jason squirms in Matt’s tight hug, but he doesn’t complain. Matt balances him on his hip and turns to Mrs. Stevenson. “Thank you so much.”
“Matty,” Jason says and rests his head on Matt’s shoulder.
She smiles at the young man and asks, “What happened to your parents?”
“I don’t know,” Matt says. “They don’t have a phone.”
“He must’ve been there over an hour. He didn’t just wander over here, Matthew. Someone left clothes and diapers with him,” Mrs. Stevenson tells him.
Jason buries his face in his brother’s neck and yawns.
“Again,” Matt says, “Thank you.”
“It was no problem,” she assures him. “He’s a good boy.”
Matt takes his brother home and lays him on the couch with a blanket. Jason almost instantly falls asleep. Matt calls his parents’ neighbors; everyone saw them leave, but no one knows where they went.
He sits on the stairs in the hallway and cries. He’s only eighteen. His roommate’s only twenty and hates little kids. Matt has no idea what to do.
Jason wakes up and walks over to his big brother and hugs him. His little fingers clumsily wipe away Matt’s tears.
The neighbor, Mrs. Stevenson, finds Jason two hours later when she takes out the trash. He’s crying, with his fingers gripping the side of the cart. Jason looks up at her and slowly raises his hands out towards her.
“What’s your name?” She asks.
“Jason Flores,” he tells her, looking proud as he says his name correctly. She lifts him out of the cart and frowns when Jason tells her that he’s hungry. She grabs the bag sitting in the car with him and takes Jason by the hand to lead him into her house.
Jason asks for milk and Mrs. Stevenson gives him a cup as he sits at the table. She makes him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then calls Matt Flores, the renter in the house next to her. This has to be his brother, Mrs. Stevenson thinks.
Matt shows up twenty minutes later, wearing dirty overalls with grease across his forehead. He rushes into Mrs. Stevenson’s house and grabs his little brother. He tucks Jason’s head under his chin and Jason squirms in Matt’s tight hug, but he doesn’t complain. Matt balances him on his hip and turns to Mrs. Stevenson. “Thank you so much.”
“Matty,” Jason says and rests his head on Matt’s shoulder.
She smiles at the young man and asks, “What happened to your parents?”
“I don’t know,” Matt says. “They don’t have a phone.”
“He must’ve been there over an hour. He didn’t just wander over here, Matthew. Someone left clothes and diapers with him,” Mrs. Stevenson tells him.
Jason buries his face in his brother’s neck and yawns.
“Again,” Matt says, “Thank you.”
“It was no problem,” she assures him. “He’s a good boy.”
Matt takes his brother home and lays him on the couch with a blanket. Jason almost instantly falls asleep. Matt calls his parents’ neighbors; everyone saw them leave, but no one knows where they went.
He sits on the stairs in the hallway and cries. He’s only eighteen. His roommate’s only twenty and hates little kids. Matt has no idea what to do.
Jason wakes up and walks over to his big brother and hugs him. His little fingers clumsily wipe away Matt’s tears.
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