by Debra Moerke
While I was waiting for Ellen to answer, Hannah got out of the car.
“Hannah, what are you doing? You need to stay in the car.”
She was sobbing as she ran to me. I picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, threw her arms around my neck, and buried her face against my chest. I could barely hold on to her and the phone. She wept relentlessly.
“Hello, this is Ellen.” I could hardly hear her over Hannah’s wails.
“Ellen, this is Deb Moerke. I am with the kids. I was driving them to Karen’s, but Hannah is hysterical. She is terrified.” My voice cracked as tears streamed down my face. “I can’t take her back like this. Please, can we work something out for her?”
“It’s out of my hands now. The judge has ordered it, and you have to take them all home. Take her back, and we will keep an eye on things. I know it’s not good for Hannah, but I will make sure there are home checks and that she is okay. You have to do it, Deb.”
Hannah was squeezing me so tightly I could hardly breathe. The other children stared at us through the car windows.
Panic hit my heart like it had never done before. I had thought I was a reasonable person. Levelheaded. Focused. But now I felt as if I was caught in a desperate life-and-death situation. I said the craziest thing. “What if I take her out-of-state, or out of the country? What would happen?”
Ellen spoke slowly. “Debra, you would be brought up on kidnapping charges. Think of your family. Don’t do something crazy.” It was the slap I needed to bring me back to reality. What could I do? No one was on Hannah’s side. No one was there for either of us. No one had the authority to change the course we were doomed to take.
“All right. But you have to promise you will keep an eye on things and make sure she is okay.” I had never talked to a caseworker like that before. I knew Ellen understood how serious I was. But I didn’t think she understood how afraid I was for Hannah.
When the call ended, I struggled to peel Hannah off me. I had scratch marks on my neck from pulling her hands away. I held her tightly. “I love you, Hannah. I love you and Jesus loves you.”
Fifteen minutes must have passed before Hannah calmed down enough to listen to me. I told her she had to go to her mother’s and I couldn’t do anything to change that. I reminded her that I would come to visit her and make sure she was doing okay. Her eyes glazed over with a look of defeat and surrender. She is shutting down. She had learned how to do it when she was scared. The crying stopped. Her breathing slowed. She wouldn’t look at me and wiggled to get down from our embrace.
I walked her to the car door and buckled her in. She refused to look at me.
Suddenly, the silence in the car was broken by Ally’s fussing. She whined until I pulled a bottle from my purse and gave it to her. Kyle and Kyra exchanged looks. Were they sad for Hannah, or were they planning to tell their mother how Hannah had acted and get her in trouble? My experience with them told me that their loyalty was always to their mother, not to Hannah. That was how Karen had trained them.
I pulled away from the curb and drove across town to Karen’s new rental home. It was nice—a bi-level with an attached garage. It was newer and larger than the previous house, and the backyard had a nice swing set. But all the nice and new wouldn’t change the fear Hannah and I both felt in our hearts.
Kyle and Kyra bolted from the car, excited to run into the house to their mother. Andrew was slower, and I had to get Ally out of the car seat. Hannah didn’t move. She didn’t undo her seat belt or look out the window. She sat staring at the glove compartment with the white of dried tears covering her precious dark cheeks.
When I looked up toward the house, the first thing I noticed was Karen’s pronounced baby bump—she was clearly pregnant. This was the worst possible day to absorb this new information, so I pretended not to notice. Karen’s face was lit up with joy as she hugged Kyle and Kyra. Andrew tagged along behind.
Carrying Ally on one hip, I grabbed the open package of diapers from the car and headed to the front door. The other three children had already disappeared.
“They found the swing set in the backyard,” Karen said.
As I handed Ally to Karen, I said. “Are you ready for all of them to come home on such short notice?”
Karen laughed and shook her head. “I don’t know. I was surprised when Ellen called me. I’m a little overwhelmed.” Her honesty accentuated one of my fears. Would she be so overwhelmed that she would fall right back into her old ways? Especially with a new child on the way? I smiled and excused myself to retrieve more boxes and get Hannah.
She hadn’t moved an inch. Her stare was still locked on the glove compartment.
I unfastened her seat belt. “You need to get out, honey,” I said as tenderly as I could. I slid her legs to the side of the seat and tucked my hands under her arms. She was dead weight, almost lifeless. When I tried to look into her eyes, she turned her head away.
Side by side we walked slowly up the driveway to the house. Karen had gone in with Ally and was upstairs when we reached the front door. I offered my hand to Hannah. She didn’t take it; she walked alone up the stairs. She went straight to the couch and sat on the edge of it.
I could hear the other children laughing in the backyard. Karen was watching them through the glass patio door in the dining room, smiling. I took advantage of Karen’s momentary distraction and knelt down next to Hannah.
I wrapped my hands around hers. “I know you cannot trust big people. We have all failed you. But you can trust Jesus. When you need him, call out to him. He will never fail you.” For a split second, Hannah looked me in the eyes and then looked down again.
I sensed God was telling me I had to surrender her to him. I had to trust him as much as I was encouraging Hannah to trust him. My heart twisted with pain. Surrender was never easy, but this surrender felt beyond me. Yet surely, God loved Hannah more than I did. Lord, I entrust her to you.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Karen turning and heading our way. I kissed Hannah on her forehead and stood quickly, not wanting to bring much attention to her. It was too late.
Karen looked at me and then at Hannah. “What’s wrong, Hannah? Are you okay?”
Playing down our tender and emotional few seconds together, I smiled at Karen and said, “She’ll be fine. She’s a little tired today.”
Hannah never looked up as I went out to the car for more boxes.
“I’ll bring the rest of their things in the next few days. There just wasn’t time . . .”
I went to the patio door and waved good-bye to the kids. “Please don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
Hannah still had not moved from her spot on the couch. My heart was heavier than I could bear. I got into my car, pulled away from the curb, and sobbed all the way home.
Chapter 7Suspicions
“HI, KAREN, THIS IS DEB,” I said on the phone a few days later. “I made a dinner I know the kids will like—lasagna with garlic bread and a salad. Would it be okay if I brought it with me today when I drop off some of the things the kids left behind?”
Karen welcomed the offer, and we set a time for me to come. The few days since returning the children to Karen had been emotionally brutal. I couldn’t get the image out of my mind of Hannah clinging to me and sobbing. I felt guilty for leaving her, and I wept more than once from worry. Was she safe? Was she traumatized? What must she be feeling? It was all I could do each day to resist driving over and rescuing her. So I did the only thing within my power to do—I prayed for her. Repeatedly.
I wanted to trust God with my whole heart through this trial, yet I struggled to understand why he’d allow Hannah to be put in what seemed to me harm’s way. As a foster mom I’d come to terms with the fact that we live in a very broken world—a world where abuse and evil happen on a regular basis, even to children, the most innocent among us. I’d grown to realize that God is not to blame for that evil—it is the enemy’s doing. God’s solution for e
vil is an eternal solution—only salvation through Christ will bring an eternity where evil is banished. But knowing that didn’t stop the ache in my heart for Hannah’s well-being. All I could do was entrust her to his care.
As I pulled up in front of Karen’s house, I was excited that I’d soon be seeing Hannah and all her siblings. I’d missed them all. Karen came to the door.
“All the children are at a friend’s house,” she said. I was incredibly disappointed. It helped a bit to think of Hannah playing with her sisters and brothers.
I hope that means she is adjusting and discovering that she is safe. At least this gives me a private moment with Karen.
“I see that you are expecting! Congratulations. When are you due?”
“September,” she answered, without much emotion. She made no mention of who the father was, so I didn’t ask. It wasn’t my business. We chitchatted for a few minutes, and then I left the meal and boxes, promising to return in a couple of days to pick up the dishes.
Feeling uneasy that I was not able to make good on my promise to Hannah that I would see her soon, I anxiously waited a few days, then called Karen and went back. This time only Andrew and Ally were home with their mother.
With a friendly tone to mask my anxiety, I asked, “Where are all the other kids? I seem to keep missing them. I brought presents for Andrew and Kyle. I know they will both be having birthdays soon.”
Karen picked up Ally, who had crawled across the carpet to her. “Andrew and Ally are the only two here,” she said. “Andrew had to stay home because he wasn’t behaving.” Standing near his mother, Andrew looked up at me with wet eyes and a pouty mouth. I gave him a warm smile and then made my own pouty face, trying to keep the mood light.
I didn’t ask anything further. Karen thanked me for the meal as I placed the gifts on the dining room table and picked up the clean glass casserole and salad dish. As I turned to leave, I changed my mind. I went back to the table, picked up the gifts, and said, “I’ll bring the birthday presents back for Kyle and Andrew in a day or two, if that’s okay.” I was glad for another reason to stop by.
Every little thing of the Bowers I could find in our home gave me a reason to visit them again to see how they were doing. Each time I went, however, either none or only one or two of the kids were at the house. Karen said they were at a friend’s house playing or visiting family for the day. I didn’t see Hannah at any of the visits and trusted she was with her other siblings. I felt better if I imagined her joining the others in an afternoon of play and told Karen I hoped to see them when I came to visit next time.
School ended in May. The needed break from foster care allowed us to enjoy our own children and give them undivided attention. Taking our boat out to Alcova Lake to fish, water ski, and go tubing provided lots of laughter and fun. Warm-weather activities were something to cherish in Wyoming, and I enjoyed running the kids from swimming pools to slumber parties, and from afternoon movies to parks. Hannah, however, was never off my mind or out of my heart. I prayed for her, her siblings, and Karen as well. “Please keep them safe, Lord. Protect them from harm and help Karen to be a loving mom to her children—all of her children.”
Several weeks into the summer we welcomed three little sisters, ages five, four, and one, and a two-year-old boy with his six-month-old sister. The six-month-old was a failure-to-thrive baby. She had been left in a bed or infant seat with little to no attention. When we received her, she was dirty and had a terrible diaper rash. Her little body felt rubbery and squishy, like a baby doll filled with water. She didn’t respond when we talked to her. I asked the caseworker if she could be evaluated at our local child development center. The woman who tested her said that lots of love, affection, and stimulating activity would help her improve. Stimulating activity? That described our home most of the time.
As I watched my kids and our foster kids sprawled across the living room floor, with pillows, blankets, and snacks for an evening of family fun, I hoped that the Bower children carried wonderful memories of such times in our home and remembered that we loved them. Was DFS checking on Hannah, as the caseworker had said they would? Did she remain the center of Karen’s negative attention? Was the man who scared Andrew and Hannah staying away and not hurting or being mean to them? I asked the questions over and over in my mind, trying to entrust the kids into God’s hands and not interfere.
One Sunday in June, nearly six weeks after returning the children to Karen, I was grocery shopping at Walmart. As I turned down a main aisle, I saw Karen and all her children heading toward me. My heart fluttered in excitement. Karen saw me and hesitated for a moment, but when she realized I had picked up my pace, she stopped and waited. Kyle, Kyra, and Andrew stood next to their mother. Ally was in the children’s seat of the shopping cart, and Hannah was sitting inside the main basket. My heart leapt at the sight of her.
I smiled and said hello. Karen returned the smile, but the kids moved closer to their mother and stared at me with serious faces. They didn’t say a word. All the children looked well kempt . . . except for Hannah. Her hair was messy and her skin ashen.
“Hello, Hannah,” I said.
She didn’t respond. She sat in the basket with the same distant look on her face as the day I had left her at her mother’s home. I didn’t want to act differently toward Hannah, showing her any more attention than the other children. I was afraid it would make things difficult for her when she got home.
“It’s so good to see all of you. We miss you!” Hannah peeked up at me, then immediately dropped her head again. I desperately wanted to grab her out of the basket and run.
It will be okay, I told myself. DFS knows the situation and is doing home checks. But I didn’t believe my own reassurances. I made a mental note to call DFS and report what I’d just seen.
It would prove to be my first call of many.
On Monday morning, I dialed DFS and asked for Ellen. “I saw the Bower kids at the store yesterday. They all looked good . . . except for Hannah.” I described her physical condition, her demeanor, and that she was riding in the basket instead of walking. I found it strange that Andrew, a year and a half younger than Hannah, was not the one inside the basket.
Ellen’s response seemed a little cool. “I’ll document it. Thanks for letting me know.”
Maybe there wasn’t much more for her to say. I expected more than simple documentation, though what I’m not sure. I wrestled with playing down what I had seen, but I simply couldn’t. I decided to start calling DFS to report anything I felt or saw that was questionable. Over the years I had never called DFS after children we had fostered had gone home. I’d never felt a need to. But there was something wrong about the Bower case. Something I couldn’t shake or let rest. I couldn’t give up on it. Hannah needed an advocate. I sensed the Lord stirring in my spirit saying, “Pay attention.”
July gave me another reason to visit—Karen’s birthday. I made a meal and a sheet cake and bought ice cream. After I phoned Karen about bringing it to her, Helen and I loaded the food up and headed into town. Helen hadn’t seen the kids since they left. She was looking forward to it as much as I was. She also knew I had concerns.
We arrived late in the day, hoping the whole family would be there to celebrate their mother’s birthday. Only Andrew and Ally were at home with Karen.
“Where are all the other kids?” Helen asked.
“Playing at a friend’s house. They won’t be home for an hour or so,” Karen said.
Helen went up to Andrew and gave him a hug. His arms rested limp at his sides. I watched him look at his mother as if he didn’t know if he would be in trouble for letting Helen hug him. Ally clung to her mother. Their bond appeared to have developed, which was a good sign. But Andrew’s behavior left an awkward silence between Helen, Karen, and me.
“Tell the kids hello for us!” I broke the uncomfortable moment with a cheery, almost obvious icebreaker. Helen’s eyes shifted toward me, then to Karen, ending with a smile for Andre
w. She felt the tension too. She squinted at Andrew and gave a little wave good-bye. She dropped her smile quickly as she turned back toward me, where Karen couldn’t see her face. Andrew was not the same Andrew for whom she’d felt such a sisterly affection. She and he would tease each other in fun when the Bower children lived with us. He’d always loved to wrestle with Helen as she tickled and laughed with him. This little boy appeared frightened, unsure, and uneasy.
Moments after we got into our car and drove away, Helen burst into tears.
“Something is really wrong there, Mom. Andrew acts like he hardly knows me.” I pulled over to the curb so we could wrap our arms around each other and cry.
“I know. I am concerned, too.”
“What about Hannah?” Helen asked. “You said you never see her at the house. Do you think she is okay?” Helen settled back into her seat, still wiping away tears.
“I don’t know. DFS said they are doing home visits and keeping an eye on all of them. Each time I have called they say everything is going fine and for me not to worry. They tell me that I don’t need to keep calling. They have a caseworker who does home visits, and if there was any concern about any of the children, they would step in and do something.”
I looked at the Bower home in the rearview mirror. The house looked still, quiet, almost peaceful on the outside. But my spirit said there was great turmoil going on inside.
I waited until August to call Karen and ask if Helen and I could stop by with a few more of the kids’ things.
All the children were home—except Hannah. Karen said she was visiting her daddy and grandma for the weekend. Helen was excited to see Kyle and Kyra.
As we stood in the middle of Karen’s living room chatting about nothing of importance, Ally, now fourteen months old, worked her way around the couch, showing off her new ability to walk almost on her own. Helen and I chuckled as Ally toddled from the couch to a chair. The other children stared at Helen and me with fake eerie smiles, watching our every move. They didn’t talk or move toward us to give or receive a hug. They were like plastic statues with painted smiles, seemingly holding their breath until we left.