Part Two
Dear Reader,
I have a story- well, actually, it's more of a confession- to make. By the time you are reading this I would already be long gone from this world. I just hope that my last words might reach someone and that someone would forever remember my words.
It was raining harshly that day. People were rushing back as fast as they could to avoid the disaster of traffic. I was coming back to the dorms after my last class. I could barely see where I was going. The roads were slippery and the puddles mounted three inches high. My umbrella was useless. The rain still somehow managed to seek its way to drench me.
I was trudging back through the mud, my hair whipping around my face, and that's when I came upon a little boy, no older than 4, huddled by a wall. The rain had drenched his clothes to his skin, chilling him to the bones. He looked so small, so weak, so fragile sitting there, curled into a tight ball, as if that would somehow protect him from the heresy of rain.
I paused and went up to him. I bent down and used my umbrella to shield some of the rain from him. He looked up and his distant eyes stared up into mine, blankly.
I will never forget that blank, empty, hollow stare of the boy's. It was almost haunting and I could feel it deep into my soul, drawing out all my fears and weakness.
I willed myself to pull out of his eyes and gave a kind smile.
"Hello," I found myself saying above the loud rumbling. "What are you doing here? It's raining so hard. Where are your parents?"
The boy continued to stare at me with those eyes as if he didn't hear me.
"What are you doing here all alone?" I repeated, a little louder, just in case he couldn't hear me the first time.
The boy gave me one more look-over and said, in a raw raspy voice that sounded almost like an old man's, "I don't have a mommy and a daddy."
At first I didn't comprehend his words. Then I understood and I retaliated. "Oh! Is that why you're here all alone?" I asked.
The boy took a moment before nodding slowly. I asked, "What is your name?"
He went silent, brooding. Then he said: "James. Just James." I smiled to myself and held out my hand.
"Well, James, my name is Emily. Come with me," I said. "You don't have to be here anymore. I know of a place where you can live. It's a place for kids like you."
The boy looked doubtful. "A place for kids like me?" he repeated, his voice shallow. I nodded. "That's right. It's an orphanage down the street. I heard that it has good quality over there. Would you like to go there?"
The boy stared at my hand for a long time, his forehead creased in concentration. Finally, he took my hand, softly and shyly. I stood up and pulled him up with me. He stood on shaking legs. I grabbed his shoulders to keep him upright and together we walked through the storm to The School of Homeless Boys.
The School of Homeless Boys was a school for orphaned boys. It sat at the corner of Elmerson Street. I passed by it often as I walked to my part-time job. It was a huge red brick building with plenty of trees and flowers decorating the front of the school. I saw, once or twice, some of the students there walking about in their black and red uniforms and a teacher accompanying them. It was always the same teacher. I never got to know her name; I would see her and she would notice me staring at her, so I'ld pick up my pace and quickly walk pass.
I took James there and I knocked on the front door. The iron door opened and a woman with brown hair pulled up into a bun and small spectacles that hung low on the bridge of her nose, greeted us. Her chin was pointed and her face was long. She towered above us.
"Hello, my name is Mrs. Mackle. How may I help you?"
Her voice was snippy, crisp, and staccato. She sounded tired like she had to say that line for a long time and didn't want to anymore.
"My name is Emily Helsing," I said. "I found a little boy on the streets, all by himself. Do you mind helping and taking him in?"
Mrs. Mackle narrowed her squinty eyes on the boy beside me. James flinched and moved to hide behind my legs.
I, myself, felt the urge to hide behind something. The stare that she was giving us made me shiver and the howling wind did no help to calm my nerves.
"Very well," she finally said and held up her nose in the air. "Come inside."
I gripped James' hand tightly to give myself confidence and made a move to go inside, but Mrs. Mackle struck out her hand in lightning speed and blocked my way.
"No, no, not you," she scolded with a cold voice. "I meant the boy. You are dropping him off here, aren't you? You're not even the boy's parent."
I felt a cold hot anger fire up inside of me, but I forced it down and said with gritted teeth, "Ah, yes. I apologize. You are right. Well, I'll see you later James."
I bent down to pat the top of his mop of messy brown hair. James didn't say anything. He was looking sown at his shoes. I stood back up.
"Please take care of him," I told Mrs. Mackle. She gave a curt nod and grabbed James' small hands in her large snarly ones. And with that she dragged him instead and slammed the door shut in my face with a loud bang.
"Take care, James!" I yelled to the door, though I wad not sure if James heard me.
I didn't see James after that, for a long time, a month or so. I was busy with work and school. When I did again, I saw him sitting beneath one of the trees near the front of the school, sobbing into his knees.
Frowning and concerned, I strode across the campus and went up to him. "James?" I said. "Are you alright?" James' head jerked up in my voice and he turned to face me quick and alarmed. His eyes were different now. It seemed alert and bright.
The moment he saw that it was me, he relaxed and a small smile spread onto his lips. "Hi, Emily," he said in his small squeaky voice. He seemed really glad to see me.
"Hi, James," I said. "How's school so far?"
At the mention of 'school', James' face turned a shade of gray and he looked away, blocking out his eyes with his long bangs. "It's okay," he said, but his answer was far from the truth. It sounded like the opposite.
"Did something happen?" I asked. He shook his head. Another lie.
I came up with an idea and held out my hand. "Come on. Do you want ice-cream? I can go get you some. Let's go ask your caretaker first, though."
James seemed reluctant at first, but the idea of licking ice cold ice-cream seemed to win over his will and he grabbed my hand and stood up. We walked to the door and I knocked on it again for the second time.
In a few seconds flat Mrs. Mackle, a wild bull, came bursting through and she yelled in her high shrilled voice, "Oh, there you are, you wrenched little boy! I've been looking through Africa and Australia for you. And here you, outside without a care, like the little rat you are-" Her voice was cut off short when she noticed me standing next to James. Her eyes widened and she stepped back in shock. "Y-You!" she screeched as if accusing me of being culpable of something. "You're the one that day who brought the boy here!"
"Yes," I confirmed. I was beginning to like the woman less and less. "I just wanted to know if I could borrow James for a little while."
Mrs. Mackle was fuming, her bun beginning to fall out of place. "Borrow him?" she screeched. "For what? What can a boy that you left here, out of the blue, do for you?"
"I just want to take him out for a walk," I said defensively. Mrs. Mackle's small beady eyes pierced through mine, but I didn't cower under her laser stare. I stood my ground and, to emphasize how serious I was, I clenched James' hands tighter in mine and pulled him closer to me. James pressed himself against my leg and I could physically feel him shook. "Please," I added, against my will. "We'll be gone no more than an hour. I promise to bring him back by then."
Mrs. Mackle's face hardened and, for a second, I was afraid that she would deny us. Then she sniffed and said, "Very well. But only an hour or else I'll send the police after the two of you."
I smiled and felt James' stiff figure relax against me. "Thank you," I said. "See you soon."
James and I walked down the steps and there was a new spring in every step James took. We went to an ice-cream shop called "Moocho". It was my favorite ice-cream place since my best friend, Kattalee, worked there.
When we entered, Kattalee greeted us with a fake chirpy voice, "Welcome to Moocho! Moo, moo, moo! How may I help you today?"
I rolled my eyes. "It's me, Kattalee. You can act natural and be mean."
Kattalee smiled. "Be glad that no one else is here. If you said that out loud in front of everyone I would lose my job."
She leaned over the counter and grinned when she saw James. "Hey! You brought a little friend. What's you name, little boy?"
James side stepped behind me. I laughed and patted his head. "You can tell her. She's a friend."
James licked his lips and said in a small voice, "James."
"Well, James, you want ice-cream?" Kattalee asked. I bent down beside him.
"What kind of ice-cream do you want?" I asked. James thought for a moment before saying, "Chocolate."
Kattalee hopped over to the containers of ice-cream and scooped out a spoonful of chocolate ice-cream. She put it into a pink cup, stabbed a spoon into the mush, and handed it to James, who took it eagerly. "Enjoy!" Kattalee said and winked.
"Thank-you," James said with a mouth full of the icy treat.
We watched him eat, licking and slurping.
"Is he your son?" Kattalee suddenly asked without warning. I doubled back in shock and quickly composed myself. "What? Oh, no. He's a friend that I met while I was walking back from class. He lives in The School of Homeless Boys." I felt like I did a bad introduction of James, but Kattalee seemed to overlook it.
"You're from The School of Homeless Boys?" Kattalee asked James. He tried to speak, but his mouth was full of chocolate ice-cream, so he nodded instead. "I see," Kattalee said. "Do you like it there?"
James swallowed and looked down at the ground. "It's okay," he said. There was a grave note in his voice, but I couldn't seem to figure it out. I thought it was sadness. I guessed it made sense since who wouldn't be upset with having to live with Mrs. Mackle, the most menacing human being on the planet?
James finished eating and we walked out the little shop and back to the school. I found James dragging his feet slowly behind him, his arms as long as the floor, his head held low. When we reached the school, Mrs. Mackle was waiting for us, standing on the bottom of the steps of the front of the school. She looked impatient, tapping her foot angrily on the floor. When she saw us, she made long strides towards us.
"You two are finally back," she said sternly. "Where have you been?"
"Mrs. Mackle, it has only been forty-five minutes," I told her and crossed my arms. "We came back fifteen minutes early."
Mrs. Mackle shook her head. "It matters not. The sun is beginning to set. James hadn't had his dinner yet. I think it's time you say good-bye to him." I felt a thrilling urge to argue with her, but little James, giving me a last small smile, walked away from my side and went to the wrenched woman's side. Mrs. Mackled grabbed his arm and turned with out another word, dragging his small, frail body away, back to the school.
I watched them go and, for reasons that I cannot explain, something flared up in my chest, something so red and so hot and so vivid. It burned in my heart, a longing feeling that almost stole away all my happiness. I shook my head and turned and walked away, the image of James' smile forged into my mind.
The second time I came to visit James was a week later. Something in my mind nagged me to go see him. He was sitting below the tree again, this time twirling two pieces of grass in his hands. I walked up to him and said, "Hey there, again. What's up?"
"Not much," he said. "What about you?"
I shrugged. "Not much, either. Do you want to do something fun?" It came out so randomly that I didn't have time to think.
He looked up into my face. "What is it? Won't Mrs. Mackle be mad at us again?"
I laughed. "Not if she doesn't know about it!" I joked. "Come on. I'll take you somewhere to see something you've probably never seen before."
He laughed in delight as well and took my hand and we hurried away before Mrs. Mackle could catch us. It felt so fun, as if we were in a movie and were escaping an island. There was freedom in our minds and hearts.
I took him to the college movie theater across from where I lived. I brought him a bag of popcorn along with a medium sized coke. I brought two tickets for the movie Cars. I had watched the movie before and thought that it was a really good movie and decided to share my experiences with James.
James' eyes were glued to the scene the whole movie. When it ended, we walked out of the theater and back towards the school.
"That was amazing!" he said with a grin. I laughed.
"You think so?" I said. He nodded.
"My favorite character is the brown one," he said.
"You mean Mater?" I asked. Mater was the main character's best friend.
"Yes!" he said. "He was so funny."
I laughed out loud. "I like him, too," I admitted. "He reminds me a bit of Kattalee." The two of us laughed together.
"Are we going to do that again?" he asked and looked up at me.
"Definitely," I said and grasped his hand tighter in mine. For some reason I didn't want to let it go. When we reached our destination, I hid behind a tree and watched him walk back into the school. When the door slammed shut safely behind him, I turned to headed back to the dorms.
I started to come and see him more often. In fact, I made "surprise visits" so much that my visits became an instinct. I would take him away from the forsaken school when Mrs. Mackle wasn't watching over him like a hawk and take him to the park, to see the town, to eat lunch with me. As time passed by I began to notice that it didn't take a lot for James to crack a smile or a bubbly, giggly laugh. I loved his laugh since it was so beautiful. Everything about James was beautiful. His hair was no longer a dirty ragged brown, but a honey colored almond. His eyes were as green as the sprouts that grew when spring arrived.
I think I began to love the little boy as time grew old. I think that it was because of my love that brought the truth before my eyes.
One day, as I sat on a bench at the park, watching James laugh and chase around the pigeons and squirrels, something flashed before my eyes. It was my life, my past, my future. I saw myself as a mother one day and there was a little angelic boy laughing beside me. It was James. We lived together in a house, just the two of us. There was nothing to fear since we had each other to hold on to, to tell our secrets, to spill our sadness.
The vision was so perfect, so vivid, so electrifying, that I made one of my biggest decisions that day: No matter what, James will be my son.
I didn't tell him that I would be adopting him soon since I wanted to keep it a surprise. I would sign all of the papers for adoption and then pick him up. Imagine the surprise when I tell him that I would be his mom! I was so excited about my idea that I called Kattalee later that night.
"Oh, Kattalee, I have the best news!" I exclaimed into the phone.
"What is it?" she questioned.
"Remember when you asked me if James was my son?" I said.
"Yes, I do."
"Well, he's about to be," I said and set the bomb down. There was a moment of silence before Kattalee screamed in happiness.
"Oh my gosh, are you adopting him?" she squealed.
"Yes, yes I am!" I said and squealed with her. "I can't wait to be a mother soon!"
"You have to make me the godmother," Kattalee demanded. "I want cute little James to be my godson."
"Alright, I will," I promised. Then we laughed and laughed until tears came to our eyes. The future was bright and perfect.
The very next day, early in the morning, before the sun was even up fully into the sky, I went to The School of Homeless Boys and rapped on the metallic door three times. It took several moments for Mrs. Mackle to open the door. She already looked grumpy and out of place and when she saw that it was me, she seemed to dive into a deeper mood.
"What is it that you want?" she sniped. "And at this hour, too!"
"May I come in?" I interrupted. "I want to speak with you of an important manner."
She glared at me and I took that as an invitation to go in. I pushed past her and walked into the grand hall of the school. It was dimly lit by a few lamps along the walls. Several large oil paintings of angels hung on the walls by the lamps. The carpet beneath my feet was blood red. I shivered because the room gave off an eerie feeling. Mrs. Mackle closed the door quietly behind her and asked in a frustrated voice, "Well, now you're inside. What is it that you want to say that's so important that you disturbed my sleep?"
"I wanted to asked you something about James," I said. She crossed her arms. "And what about him?"
"May I adopt him?" I blurted out. I clutched my little purse close to my chest and awaited her answer. I could feel myself hold a deep breath.
Mrs. Mackled looked me up and down. She seemed to be deep in thought. She said slowly and calculatingly, "Adopt James? Well, I guess that can be arranged. But adoption cost quite a bit of money. I assume that you have that amount?"
"What is the amount?" I asked. "I'll pay anything."
"Anything, huh?" she repeated. I thought I saw an evil look in her eyes. "It'll be thirty thousand dollars."
I almost jumped out of my shoes. I wasn't expecting so high of an amount. "Thirty thousand?!" I repeated, aghast. "But.. that's so much! I haven't got that much. Can we lower it by at least ten thousand?"
Mrs. Mackled chuckled. "I'm afraid not, dear. That would be the final amount." There was venom in the way she said 'dear'.
"Please," I begged. "Can't I pay any other way?" She shook her head.
"No," she said and began pushing me out of the house. "Now, if you would excuse me, you are disturbing the entire school. I bid you good-bye." And with that she shoved me outside and shut the door.
I couldn't believe it! That woman made me want to throw up. The way she talked was intoxicating. It was probably because of how I had acted around her before that she hated me. But, even so, thirty thousand is exceeding the limits.
I stared blankly at the school for a couple of moments before I took a deep breath and said into the dawn, "I'm not giving up, James. Wait for me. Mommy is coming to save you."
I came back again and again to Mrs. Mackle, asking her for adoption. Each time she denied me and sent me away. It was like a merry game to her, seeing my despair and agony.
But I never gave up. I wanted so badly for James to be my son. My days for spent trying to earn enough money to adopt him. I began to slack off at school, but I didn't really care. The more money I earn, I tell myself, the closer I get to my dream.
But then, on a fateful day, everything spiraled out of control. All of my dreams, wishes, hopes came crashing down like a gigantic destructive tsunami.
It started out pretty normally. I worked until the day grew dark and walked over to The Home of Homeless Boys. I knocked on the door and without a missing beat Mrs. Mackle opened it and poked her head out. I prepared to ask the question I asked everyday, "May I adopt him, now?", but Mrs. Mackle beat me to it.
"You don't need to come here anymore," she said. I had no clue what she was saying.
"I'm earning money," I explained. "So, please, can I at least see him?"
Mrs. Mackle shook her head. "No, you may not. He's no longer living here."
At first her words didn't register in my mind. I felt like I was trudging through murky brown water. When I pierced together her meaning, my eyes widened and I stepped back shakily.
"W-What do you mean?" I whispered. Everything around us suddenly went quiet, anticipating the moment. "Where have you taken him?"
Mrs. Mackle said, "To Britain, over the seas, to a school over there. You will never see him again. He's gone, for good."
"No," I said, refusing to believe her. I took several steps backwards, down the stairs. "No. No. No. Please tell me you're just joking."
She shook her head again. "I'm not."
I ran, then. I ran away, as fast as I can. I didn't even know where I was going. Just as long as my feet carried me to a place that was no where near that orphanage. When I finally came to my senses, I had realized that I was standing at the doorstep of my dorm, breathing heavily with tears flowing down my cheeks.
I couldn't stop the flow of my tears that night. I would stop for a moment, but then the image of James would appear in my mind and I would start bawling all over again.
I think this is where I would end my story. I never did go back to the orphanage. I never saw James again.
I wish I did.
I wish I had told him how much I loved him before it was too late.
I wish I could stop Mrs. Mackle from stealing him away.
I wish that I didn't have to write this letter, this evil story.
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I'm so sorry.
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Without James, there's no more reason to live.
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I miss him so much. I want to see him smile one last time. I want to be his dream mom.
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I guess this is a goodbye.
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I'm sorry.
Lots of love,
Emily Helsing
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