by Mark Butler
“Too bad.” Catina said.
Ellis wordlessly pulled out several forms from his desk and laid them in front of the McCrees.
“Fill these out, then leave.” He walked out of the room.
“Hi Amelia, it looks like I'm gonna be your new dad.” Steve said cheerfully, extending his hand. Amelia ignored him. Her heart had wanted her to be freed. Her mind had never believed it would happen. Now she was just confused.
Once the paperwork was completed and resting on Ellis' desk, the McCrees prepared to leave. Normally, adoptive parents might meet a child several times before they brought them home. But Steve and Catina had already gone through all the background checks, home inspections and interviews that were required. They had filed an official petition to bring a child home immediately from Lisson, considering the distance they had to travel to get there. Their petition was granted and now they waited for Amelia, who had gone to her living compartment to gather her few personal possessions.
Amelia didn't have much. Other than a few ratty clothes and shoes, she had the brief autobiography that she had written the night before. She stared at that paper, wondering what to do with it. After awhile, she came to a decision. For years, Amelia had daydreamed and imagined what it would be like to get adopted, and now that the time had come, it didn't seem real. Once her possessions were gathered, Amelia went back to Ellis' office, expecting to have a good-bye. But he wasn't there, just Steve and Catina McCrees.
“I'm ready” Amelia announced.
“Good, let's hit the road, it's getting late” Steve said.
“Do either of you have an envelope and a stamp?” Amelia asked.
“Sure I do, in the car. Do you need it?” Catina said.
“Yes.”
The three family members departed Lisson Orphanage, never to return. Amelia never said good-bye to Ellis, and she figured he was probably inconsolable at that moment. She considered the pain he was in, and she thought about not mailing her letter to Child Protective Services. Then remembered the beating, rapes, starvation and verbal abuse. She remembered her hopelessness, her fear. Amelia imagined that Ellis might vent his pain on some unsuspecting orphan on that very night, hardening her resolve to drop the letter in the postbox before the car pulled out onto the open road.
PART 2
Freedom
Fluffy cotton balls, innocently hovering in the sky were gently being pulled apart by the wind, stealing their ability to protect Earth from the harshest beams of UV light. The colors of the sunset were now able to be seen with blistering clarity, creating an all-natural kaleidoscope of purple, yellow, orange and red. The deeper the sun descended in the sky, the darker the colors became: dark blue, brown, shades of gray and increasing puddles of black. Amelia watched the sun set in the West over distant mountains, permitting the cool vibrations of night to reign over the land.
Tired but alert, she listened to the McCrees conversation with diminishing interest. They were undoubtedly smart people. She had been in the car for an entire hour and had not heard one curse word, one insult. They spoke in lengthy, complex sentences, using a plethora of academic words that formed the thread of their conversation about how to parent an orphan. Amelia knew they were talking about her, but she was content to let them think that she didn't understand.
“All children develop differently and the degree of freedom that a child experiences should be dependent upon their character, not their age” Steven lectured.
“I agree. However, who makes such a determination? For large numbers of kids with minimal direct supervision, general guidelines are necessary. Those guidelines are developed by experts who know that children sometimes outnumber adults.”
“True, but ultimately irrelevant to our current situation.”
“I disagree. When someone has been brought from the masses into a more intimate dynamic, they have inevitably developed at a comparable rate to the masses. In normal social conditions, this can be likened to peer pressure. To maintain consistency, we should apply the institution's rules until we are comfortable enough to break them.”
Amelia listened to the McCree's go back and forth, wondering if she was an individual or a product of the orphanage system.
“Now it's my turn to disagree. I think it's too early to set any strict rules, at least until we gauge the girl's maturity.” Steven countered.
“It is early”
“But we did it! We have a child to teach, to inspire, to nurture.”
“I'm not a child.” Amelia interrupted, causing Catina to turn around in her seat. How long had Amelia been listening?
“No, you're not. But you're not an adult yet, either.”
“I never said I was an adult. I'm pretty sure there's nothing you two can teach me, though.” Amelia said.
Catina frowned. She held a bachelor's degree in psychology from a respected university and Steven was a doctor.
“Well, maybe you'll change your mind in time.” Catina said, trying to defuse the situation and maintain her authority.
Amelia shrugged and looked out her window at the world zooming by. She saw fields, cows, cars and people. There were huge signs along the side of the highway, offering various products and services. This world was so different from Lisson, it was so...innocent. Honestly, the whole adoption experience so far felt fake. She thought it might all be a dream, and she would wake up at any moment in her compartment, surrounded by other orphans who also dreamed of being adopted. Or maybe this was a test? Maybe Ellis would pop out at any moment and reveal that this was all a trial to gauge her loyalty to him. Amelia didn't feel the exhilaration that she expected to feel when she finally left Lisson. She felt...detached. Ethereal. With the gentle motions of the car lulling her, Amelia fell asleep.
Chapter Fifteen
“She's asleep”
“Should we wake her up?”
“Of course, Steven. Do you want her to sleep in the car all night?” Steven shrugged and Catina rolled her eyes, wondering how any man could possibly care for a child without the guidance of a woman. The McCrees got out of their car and reached their hands to the dark sky, stretching deeply. After too many hours on the road, they were finally home.
Steven and Catina McCrees lived in a quaint, three bedroom house in suburbia heaven. They mowed their lawn, waved to their neighbors and knew the police officer who lived across the street from them. They had lived in their home for most of their marriage, over fifteen years, and they were comfortable. Of course, it was past midnight and there was nothing going on outside, save the chirping of a few lonely crickets. Rounding the rear of the car, Catina opened Amelia's door and nudged her gently on the arm,
“Wake up.” She murmured softly, hoping the girl would be too tired to argue.
Instead of a gradual, docile awakening, Amelia snapped her eyes wide open in a second and sat up straight, rigid. She blinked a few times and stared at Catina, not recognizing her. After another second, her eyes relaxed and she spoke inpatiently.
“Well, show me to my room.” Catina shook her head for a second and took a deep breath, trying to calm her pounding heart. Amelia's switch from deep-sleep to hyper-vigilance had scared the bejeezus out of her, and she knew something had happened to this girl at that desolate orphanage. Really, Catina thought, who else wakes up like that other than those who have to be ready for suffering at a moment's notice? Pushing these thoughts aside, she tried to grab Amelia's hand and lead her to the house, but Amelia jerked her hand back.
“I can walk.”
The newly-formed family entered the McCree's house and Catina showed Amelia her bedroom and bathroom, then bade her good-night. Tomorrow, Catina said, they would officially welcome her into her new home.
Chapter Sixteen
She woke in a cold sweat, her pillowcase dampened by perspiration. She blinked rapidly, peering into the dark room. Amelia sat up and the comforter fell from her upper body, revealing her bare skin to the cold room. She felt the hairs rise on her arms and shoulders, even as her legs ro
asted from the heavy blankets. Amelia rubbed her head, trying to lift the fog from her mind. She swung her legs out to the side of her bed and walked over to the window, looking at the rows of houses upon houses. Amelia had never been in a neighborhood before and she wondered what it was like, living so close to all these people and not knowing their life's intimate details. The sun was still rising over the horizon, creating a rainbow of light colors in the dusk sky. Amelia glided back to her bed and sat down on the edge, thinking. She had been adopted. It felt more unreal now than when it had actually happened. It felt...too easy. When she was in Lisson, the facility had felt like an impermeable prison and adoption had seemed as remote as Pluto. But now that she was on the other side, Amelia thought that it would be easy to cross back over the line to servitude and back to freedom again without effort. Moving as quietly as she could, Amelia got dressed and cleaned her room. She then waited patiently on her bed for someone to permit her to do more.
Catina was an early-riser by nature. She loved the crisp, newness of the morning. She liked to rise with the sun and do her yoga routine, a sweaty thirty-minute series of poses and lunges designed to stimulate circulation. Near the end of her workout Steven woke up and made coffee, then ate his breakfast while Catina finished. Steven waited for Catina to pour her cup of coffee before he spoke.
“Good morning. How was your session?'
“Sufficient. My mind is distracted.”
“With good reason, too.”
“Should we wake her up?”
“I'd let her sleep, she's probably exhausted in more ways than one.” Steven smiled.
“You're right, of course. So, are you ready to be a parent?”
“No. I'm ready to learn to be a parent. I think this girl is very unusual, and I wonder if there is a subconscious reason that you chose her. Were you thinking that I am bored professionally and need a fun, new project?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You can tell as well as I can that she's been abused. She has none of the other characteristics of a normal child who just happened to grow up in an orphanage. She's aggressively private, sarcastic and insightful.”
“So?”
“So, I've seen abused kids before. She has several classic symptoms, except of course that she is smart enough to hide them from us.”
“Not you, apparently.”
“Of course not. I've been a psychologist for seventeen years, six of them with pediatric patients. This girl is textbook, Catina, except of course for her unusual intelligence.”
“She is smart, isn't she?”
“She seems like it. I guess we'll find out when she starts school next Monday. But my real interest is in you. Why choose this girl?”
“She needed to get out of there. All those kids do. I don't know...I guess I thought she had potential. Maybe I just liked the way she looked. I don't know, Steven, but I chose her” Catina said, turning back to her coffee. She could tell that Amelia was special. The girl answered questions too fast. She said nothing trivial. Her orphanage-education would not have done so much for her, Catina thought, she must be auto-didactic.
“You know, I read in an adoption book that sometimes kids are terrified of their new homes, their new families.” Steven ventured.
“So?”
“I hate it when you say that. So, Amelia is probably going to feel timid to do anything around here. She doesn't feel like this is her home, yet. She's probably already woken up, and is just sitting in her bed waiting to be told when to eat, when to dress.”
“I'll go check on her.” Catina said.
Catina ascended the wooden staircase to the second floor, the stairs creaking with every step. The house felt quieter than ever even though there was a third person there now. Catina paused at Amelia's door, feeling a chill run down her spine. She couldn't explain it, but it was as though Amelia was not what she appeared to be. Like she was an intruder. Catina opened the door and saw Amelia, sitting on the edge of her neatly-made bed, staring into space. She didn't look up when Catina entered, and her stillness was strange, unsettling.
“Do you wanna come downstairs and eat breakfast?” Catina said, her voice involuntarily shaking.
“Yes.” Amelia said without pause, rising to her feet and brushing past Catina. For the first time, Catina felt regret at adopting this girl. Amelia had done nothing whatsoever to elicit such a strong feeling from Catina, yet she couldn't shake it. The girl had a dismissive, condescending tone that irked Catina. Wondering where such negative thoughts were coming from, Catina turned and followed Amelia downstairs.
Chapter Seventeen
The next several days were awkward. Amelia could not shake off her daily orphanage routines. When Catina would go check the laundry, everything was clean and neatly folded. When she went to do the dishes, there were none, just sparkling counter-tops and a newly-polished kitchen floor. Amelia cleaned and cleaned. She dusted, vacuumed, straightened up and basically couldn't stop. She refused to watch T.V., stating it was the most boring and unproductive activity that she had ever heard of. She had zero interest in music.
After the third day, Catina forced Amelia to sit down and take a break from her self-appointed chores.
“Amelia, what do you like to do for fun? Do you wanna go shopping? Get some ice cream? We could go to the park.”
“Shopping?” Amelia had never shopped a day in her life.
“Yes, shopping. You can pick out new shoes, clothes, books, make-up...anything you want.”
The eagerness in Amelia's eyes was unmistakable. As the two girls left out the front door, Catina caught Steven's eye from the couch. Success!
At the mall, Amelia seemed to draw within herself. The more busy, more flashy a store was, the more her face adopted a flat affect. She didn't talk. Catina tried taking Amelia to calmer, less crowded department stores, but Amelia displayed no interest in new jeans or shirts or dresses. She just looked at them, rolled her eyes and kept walking. When they got to Barnes and Noble, Amelia changed drastically. She spoke excitedly to herself as she picked up different books;
“I haven't read this”
“Look at that!”
“They have all six editions!” she would shriek.
Catina started to worry that Amelia would ask her to buy the entire store. Yet, Amelia would just pick up a book, look at each page five to ten seconds, letting her index finger guide her eyes over each line, then put the book down and move on.
“Amelia, what are you doing?”
“Reading.”
“You can't read that fast.”
“No, you can't read that fast.”
Catina felt her face grow warm.
“OK, what was this book about?” She picked up a novel, Paradise Lost, that Amelia had dashed through about fifteen minutes prior. Amelia looked at Catina pointedly, wondering where she was going with this. She felt offended, was Catina calling her a liar?
“It's not just a book, it's a poem. The fall of Adam and Eve to temptation and the justification of God to Man are John Milton's primary topics”
“Did you just scan the book, or have you read it before? How much of these words are you actually comprehending?”
“It's speed reading. Eighty to ninety percent comprehension.” Amelia said robotically, turning back to her current dish. Catina let her read for the next half-hour, and several patrons were taking notice of the girl, staring curiously. One man strolled up and tried to be friendly, “If I could read that fast, I'd be a millionaire!”
The two women stared at the man blankly while he guffawed at his own joke. After a moment of solitary laughing, the man walked away silently, embarrassed.
“OK, Amelia, let's go home.” Catina didn't offer to buy Amelia any books, evidently it would have been a waste of money because Amelia would have finished the novels in the car on the way home. During the drive, Catina's mind raced as she snuck sidelong glances at Amelia. Was this girl a true prodigy?
“Amelia, you're going to s
tart school next Monday. I know you've received a rudimentary education at the orphanage, but at these schools, you can really spread your wings.”
“What do I do?”
“Just go to school everyday, go to your classes and do all your homework.”
“Everyday? Seven days a week?”
“No, Monday through Friday. Seven am. Until three pm.”
“What's homework? I'll have school stuff that I have to do at home?” Amelia was slightly confused. If a teacher couldn't teach a concept with five days a week, there was either a teacher problem or a dumb-student problem.
“Homework is exactly that. Sometimes lessons need to be reinforced outside of an academic setting.” Catina answered, realizing that orphans had no concept of home-work, because they had no “home”.
They drove in silence the rest of the way, Catina thinking of new ways to bond with Amelia, and Amelia thinking of what school would be like. There would be other students their. Students her age. Would she be allowed to talk to them? How many different subjects would she take simultaneously? Were the teacher's mean? The deep ambivalence Amelia had felt about adoption was fading, only to be replaced by nervous excitement. She would be going to school!
Chapter Eighteen
For the next few days, Amelia familiarized herself with her new life. She woke up, ate a breakfast of cereal and orange juice, then did chores. Her “parents” had told her that she didn't have to do any chores, but gave up after they found Amelia awake in the middle of the night, folding laundry on the floor of the hallway. As Steven had so eloquently described,
“If you can't beat em' join em'”.
After her chores, Amelia would walk to the local library, an ugly chunk of Puritan architecture that was situated on the far end of the park by their house. Amelia would travel through the park, enjoying the fresh air and flowers. Bethe park was a full three thousand acres, on the edge of a metropolitan area. Long bike paths and romantic lookout points formed the skeleton of the park. The life-blood was the river, flowing right through the middle and emptying out into the misty Atlantic. Fields and children's playgrounds were scattered in random places, with mothers chasing their children for hours. Joggers and bikers often waved or smiled at Amelia as they passed her, though she ignored them utterly. After several hours at the library each day, Amelia would come home through the park, suffer through a dinner of awkward conversation and do chores until she went to sleep. It was the best possible life that she could have ever imagined for herself.