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Janie was six years old the day her parents died. She could still recall the doorbell ringing shortly after she went to bed. She could still hear the policeman's footsteps on the stairs as he came up to get her. Janie could even recall the strong odor of Aqua Velvet on the policemen's uniform when he held her tight to his chest. At the age of 30 years, Janie would never forget the terror she felt as the young officer sat her in the back of the cruiser with its red and blue lights flashing into the darkness. The memory came stronger each time she tried to help a young child move into foster care and tonight was no different.
"Where's my mommy? I want my mommy!" Janie cried as the officer with the stench of after-shave carried her into the strange house.
Why was she there, Janie wondered, as she gave one last kick to the policeman. Why was this old lady taking her inside?
"She's very feisty Mrs. Pearson," the young officer tersely stated, "Kicked, bit and hit me before we got to the car. Got a second wallop in just now."
"Not a problem," Mrs. Pearson calmly stated, "I'll get her settled in no time."
The old lady placed Janie roughly on the floor to tug off her coat and boots. Janie wanted to ask why was she there but was silenced by the glare in the woman's eye. This lady would not be like the cop. He was easy. Janie would have got away if the other policemen hadn't interfered. Then she would have found her parents and solved this mystery.
"Well, I guess you'll have to sleep on the couch tonight. Don't want to wake the other children. Tomorrow, we'll get your things and settle you into a room."
Mrs. Pearson walked Janie to a couch that had definitely seen better days. The tattered, worn blue cushions certainly looked better than they smelled. Tears formed in Janie's eyes from the smell, a combination of bleach and urine. Why wasn't she at home? Didn't her parents love her anymore? Where was Lisa, the baby-sitter? Janie looked at the gray
haired lady, then at the door but realized she'd never make it. With a heavy heart, Janie curled up on the couch and tried to sleep.
"Wake up you little monster or Mrs. P will have your head!" yelled a pimple face teen into Janie's face, "I'm Roxie. Come on or you'll be late for breakfast."
Janie shook her head, trying to get rid of the nightmare she had awakened into, only the shaking made her head hurt more. She took the outstretched hand and focused on the multi-coloured ragged nails of the older girl. Janie tripped as Roxie pulled her across the room.
Janie wrinkled her nose as she entered the kitchen. It smelled of dog, burnt eggs and urine. Was there anywhere in the dark house that was free of the foul smell of urine? As Janie looked quickly around, she wondered again what she had done so wrong that her
parents would send her to such a place.
"Sit!" Mr. Pearson barked and all the children quickly took their seats at the long, rough timber table. Janie sat down beside Roxie unsure of what to do. Mrs. Pearson dished out slimy burnt eggs and toast to all the children, than gave Mr. Pearson a large helping of crisp bacon. At once, chaos broke out as everyone nosily began to eat. Janie sat, staring at the food, trying to get past the smell.
"Eat child or no lunch!" Mrs. Pearson ordered.
Janie tried to get the food past the lump of tears that had formed in her throat but couldn't. Before she could stop herself, Janie threw up all over herself, the table and the child next to her.
Slap! Janie's head recoiled back as Mr. Pearson's hand drew away from her scarlet red cheek. Janie fell onto the dirty floor. Mrs. Pearson picked her up and shoved her towards the bathroom.
"It's okay, Mrs. P, I'll look after her," Roxie quickly stated as she jumped between the frustrated woman and terrified child.
"I remember being scared," Roxie yelled back as she pulled Janie into the bathroom.
"Geez kid, that's no way to win brownie points," Roxie stated as she began to wash up Janie's face, "It's really not so bad here."
Janie sat perfectly still as Roxie wiped her off with a bleach stained face cloth. Her stomach continued to do back flips. She gulped hard to keep her fears and her stomach down.
"Hey!" Roxie prodded Janie with her finger, "do you talk? Hello in there"
Janie blinked quickly, trying to keep the tears inside. Still, the tears refused to be shut away and flowed silently down her burning cheeks.
"Hey kid, it's okay. Really" Roxie soothingly said as she brushed the tears from Janie's face, "Mrs. P isn't so bad if you give her a chance and there's always something to eat."
Roxie gave Janie a hug and whispered, "Just stay out of Mr. P's way OK."
As Janie slipped back to the table, she prayed no one would speak to her. Roxie's words had helped but there were still too many tears to hold back. She took the burnt toast and swallowed. The toast settled inside the lump that had grown bigger and now
threatened to overtake her body. As Mr. Pearson got up to leave, he barked orders at the other children, roughly kissed the tired, old woman and left. Janie sat silently, shaking, unable to move.
"Come on kid, I'll show you your room," Roxie grabbed Janie by the hand and dragged her out of the kitchen. Janie stumbled along behind Roxie as they climbed the
dark staircase to the attic. If it was possible, it smelled worse up here than downstairs.
"Home sweet home, kid" Roxie outstretched her arms to give the illusion of space, "You're sharing with Angie."
Janie looked around. She swallowed the tears back as she took in the four walls without a window. Her eyes fell upon the mattress on the floor and the pile of sheets that was her bed.
"Hey, don't cry." Roxie gently stated as she brushed away Janie's tears, "Angie is a nice kid and she doesn't even wet the bed."
The day continued on with Janie walking in a daze. Sometime after lunch, she met with a woman who stated she was from a children's service place. All Janie could recall from the meeting was the woman kept talking to Mrs. P and ignored her. Janie remembered how the woman smelled of onions and perfume, but she couldn't remember what she said about her parents. Janie took her suitcase to her room and sat on the bed to cry. Many times later in the day she tried to ask someone, anyone, what exactly the woman had said but couldn't get past her unshed tears. By evening, she learned that Mr. P never spoke except to yell, while
Mrs. P tried to soothe his cruel words with rough hugs and kisses. Janie learned all the kids were there because their parents hit them, drank or did drugs. That fact confused Janie even more because her parents had never drank and she hadn't even been spanked.
As she crawled in bed that night, Janie decided there was no God or her parents would be there to take her home.
"Hey kid, you've been sprung!" Roxie yelled excitedly as she pulled back the thin covers and shook Janie awake.
"Your aunt is here, lucky kid." Roxie shook her head in disbelief, " I don't have an aunt and even if I did, she'd never come for me."
Roxie helped Janie get dressed and grabbed her suitcase. Janie's feet didn't even hit the ground as Roxie pulled her down the stairs.
"Auntie Caren," Janie yelled as she flew into her aunt's outstretched arms.
"Oh honey, " Caren cried as she enveloped Janie in a mixture of tears and perfume, "let's go home."
Janie had never heard more wonderful words. Home.
Later that day, Caren explained in hesitant, careful words that Janie's parents had died in a car accident. Caren told Janie how no one knew who Janie's relatives were since they had just moved into the city. They went to Janie's house and got her cat, a few more clothes and some pictures for Janie to hold close to her heart. Janie was confused and at first, still believed they had gone away because she was bad. As the months passed, Janie realized that her parents loved her and would never have sent her to such a horrible place voluntarily. With her aunt's love and care, Janie believed in her heart that God had a place special for her Mom and Dad and one day, she'd go there too.
"Excuse me Janie, are you ready?" the police officer's voice penetrated Janie's memories and projected her quickly into the present. As a social worker, it was her duty to remove children from unsafe homes and place them into foster care. Tonight was
different. Tonight she had to take a child to a group home because his parents had been killed by a drunk driver.
"Yes, of course, let's go." Janie walked towards the door.
As the officer opened the door, Janie took in the young boy sitting on the stairs crying. Beside him sat the baby-sitter, all of 13 years old. The scared child looked up at the adults who invaded his space and tried to escape through the back of the stairs. As Janie wrapped her memories around her like a shield, she vowed to make this transition as unthreatening as possible.
"Come here honey, let me tell you what is going on," she couched down to look the young, scared boy in the eyes, "It's going to be okay."
~~1999~~
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