Finding a Family - December 30, 2010

I stare out the window silently. Watching a family stroll the cobblestone street, peeking into shop windows, occasionally going into one. A family, the one thing I want, the one thing I can’t have. Is it really that much to ask for? Someone to give me a warm bed and a bit of food. A place to call home. Apparently so, I think bitterly.

Eventually a boy comes in, Justin, I think his name is. He’s a boy with sandy hair, pure blue eyes, and a medium stature. He’s a little jumpy and afraid of his own shadow, but he’s friendly if memory serves. “Miss Johnson would like to see you as soon as possible,” he says quickly before departing.

Miss Johnson? The orphanage director? Me? I think. I scramble down the stairs to her office. I open the door slowly and peer inside. She is sitting with her back to me in a chair carved with intricate patterns. The floor is littered with fragile valuables. The whole room smells of roses. I step inside. I have only been in here once before.

“You sent for me?” I ask tentatively.

She turns to face me and says, “Yes, I have something to show you.”

Her piercing green eyes appear to be staring right through me. She beckons. I carefully make my way toward her trying not to break anything. But it’s hopeless. I trip and fall on an artfully crafted vase. The sound of it breaking is like thunder. I know there are shards of glass embedded in my skin. I feel rather than see the warm blood dripping down my body onto the floor. It hurts but I don’t complain.

I hear her footsteps as she gets out of her seat and walks to where I am. I must look pathetic. A bloody heap of arms and legs. “Get up” Miss Johnson says. I quickly do so. She hands me an envelope. I hesitate, should I open it? It’s obviously mine, but I’ve never gotten a letter before. My question is answered when se says, “Go ahead, and open it.” 

That’s exactly what I do. Inside is a neatly folded piece of paper. I unfold it. It says:

Dear Timothy,

I am sorry. When mom and dad died I had no choice but to leave you in the care of Miss Johnson. You see, I was only 13 and couldn’t take care of us both. But I think I can now. I have a farm out in Kansas. I am inviting you to come live with me. I hope the last nine years haven’t been too hard on you. If you are wondering why you haven’t been adopted it’s because I gave Miss Johnson specific instructions to let no one have you for ten years. I hope you can come see me.

Your Brother,

John

It takes a moment to sink in. I have a brother! I do have a family! Then another thought occurs. I turn to Miss Johnson, my face a mask of anger and rage. “You knew!” I shout accusingly. “You knew all along that I had a brother and you never told me. You would rather let me believe my whole family is dead.”

“No,” She says innocently, but I know she’s lying.

“Yes, you did!”

“Alright,” She says with a sigh. “I did, but-“

“But nothing,” I shout, and storm out.

I run up the stairs to my room. I sit down in a corner, and look at my arm, the spot that hurts the most. Embedded in it are tons of minuscule shards of glass, barely visible. I get up and go down the hall to the infirmary. I tell the nurse what happened. She grabs a pair of tweezers and starts the long process of ripping every single solitary shard from my flesh. When she is done she cleans out my cuts and bandages my wounds before letting me leave.

I go to dinner next. I’m starved considering the fact that I missed lunch. I wolf down the meal and head to bed. This is what it’s like everyday here in the orphanage. Then something that doesn’t happen everyday occurs. Miss Johnson enters my room. She sits down on the edge of my bed.

“I was going to let you go visit your brother but with your behavior today you can’t go,” She says quietly before leaving. I suddenly feel suffocated. I’ve just discovered that I have a brother and I can’t visit him. This is terrible. Suddenly I have a plan. I’ll meet my brother. That is my last thought before I black out.

I wake up at the sound of the chapel bell ringing. I silently count the number of times it rings. Ten… eleven…TWELVE! I jump out of bed, and silent as a ghost, run to the window. I look out. I’m on the second floor… Is it safe to jump? Probably not, I decide looking down. I swing myself over the ledge. I carefully make my way to the base of the building. I suddenly realize I’m outside. Outside! They never let us out for fear of us running away. But here I am. Then I remember my plan. I run to the stable on the edge of the yard. I look at all the horses. In the end I take a young stallion. I untie it and ride, fast as the wind, north. I know this is going to be a brief ride of only nine miles but I t seems to take forever. I run into travelers a couple of times, and on those rare occasions I am forced off the road for fear of suspicion. After what seems like hours, I arrive in Boston.

I ask a friendly looking man how to get to the train station and he tells me.  Using his directions I make my way to the train station. I let out a gasp when I see it. It’s twice the size of the orphanage and has three times the amount of people. I ask around for a train to Kansas. Eventually I find one. I walk up to the conductor.

“What can I do to get a free ride on your train?” I ask politely.

I notice he’s eyeing my horse. “How about that there stallion of yours?” He answers.

I’m reluctant to give him up but if it will take me to Kansas… “Okay,” I say.

“Okay, hop into that car there.” He says.

I hop into the car and as soon as I do I know I’ve made an unfair trade. This isn’t even a passenger car, it’s the animal car. Well, not really there are only two dogs. Something tells me their not supposed to be here. I think it might be the deranged look of the smaller dog or maybe just the stifling odor that tells me they don’t have owners. I should probably tell the conductor but after the way he just cheated me I don’t think I will. They seem nice enough. I mean it’s not like they bit me or anything, at least not yet…

They approach me, eyes locked on me, ears alert, their whole bodies are stiff in anticipation. They sniff me suspiciously. They decide I am not a threat and lay down a few feet away. I do the same. Now I get a closer look at them. The larger one is dark in color. He looks as if he is anticipating a fight any moment. The smaller one is lighter in color and more relaxed. I suddenly realize that the small one is missing an ear.

The train lurches forward so suddenly my head is slammed against the wall. As if on queue the dogs start howling. The larger dog starts to dart around the car wildly, while the small one approaches me. I don’t mind if it didn’t bite me before it won’t now. It lies down beside me and rests it’s head on my arm. I stroke it cautiously. It instantly stops howling. The other one stops its wild prancing and follows suit. I do the same to it and it stops howling too. As I am petting the larger dog my hand brushes up against something cold and metallic. I look down, frightened. I let out a sigh of relief when I realize it’s just a collar. I look more closely at the collar. It has a single R inscribed upon it. R…

“I’m gonna call you Rocky,” I suddenly say to the big dog.”And I’ll call you Samantha, since you don’t have a collar.” I say to the other. “Wait…”

I check Samantha again. Yep, no collar, or at least not one I can see. The rest of the ride is like that, I stroke the dogs the whole time. Occasionally we make stops. Every time we do I look out but we’re never in Kansas. The ride is much longer than I expected. Finally the train comes to a grinding halt. I look out and to my great excitement see a sign saying “Kansas welcomes you.”

“We’re here,” I shout to the dogs. “We’re in Kansas.”

I go to get off the train and get and suddenly have a hollow feeling in my stomach. I stop and turn around. I see Rocky and Samantha staring at me. I can’t leave them. They’re oh what’s the word? They’re friends. I suddenly get a warm feeling inside me. It starts at my chest and slowly spreads out to the rest of my body, from my head all the way down to my toes. I have friends. I’ve never had friends before. Should I leave my friends for my brother? I know he’s family but I’ve never even met him. Then another thought occurs.

“Come on, we’re going to find my brother,” I say to Rocky and Samantha.

I jump out of the train just as it begins to leave. The dogs follow me. I run through the masses of people until I come to an information desk. There is a woman sitting behind the desk.

“Do you know where to find John Brown?” I ask her.

“Maybe,” she pulls out a huge book. She turns a couple of pages into it and stops. “Here we are,” she says pointing to a name. “It says he lives two miles down the road.”

“Thank-you,” I say.

I start off down the road at a slow pace. After about five seconds of this my excitement takes over. I sprint down the road. This isn’t that fast though, Rocky is about 100 feet ahead, barking happily. We soon come to a farm. I tell Rocky to stop running. He stops immediately. I walk inside cautiously. I can see a man at the back. He looks exactly like me only taller and more muscular.

“Are you John?” I ask.

“I am,” he replies. “Are you Tim?”

“I am,” I say.

He rushes forward. “What took you so long?”

I explain the details of my trip. Looking into his eyes, I know I have found a family.

-Tyler Ruiz