Friday, September 11, 2009

A Child Called Dust!
It started with one call. My husband Jock and I had been on a US adoption list for months now and had gotten a bit pessimistic about the idea. Then one day I received a call from our agency. A waspy voice on the other end informed me that there was a child in America waiting for us to come get him. We were in a euphoric state the whole journey over from London. I was to get a boy! My ex husband, Tony, and I had lost our child in a tragic horse accident many years ago. Soon after, we divorced and Tony went on some insane trip to Africa. It was a far cry from the Tony I had known and once loved. Anyway soon after he left there was no sight or word from him again, so he was presumed dead. I mourned my ex-husband's loss for the appropriate amount of time; no more, no less. I also waited for the appropriate time to marry my love, Jock Grant-Menzies, Tony's best friend. After the wedding Jock and I moved to his London estate. Jock wanted children as soon as possible but I refused to go through the tormenting years of infancy again. If there was to be any child, we would have to adopt him.
We arrived in the States after an anxious journey. Although I wasn't overly excited about having another child I was ecstatic at how happy it made Jock. The sky was a blanket of gray clouds, the air was crisp. We sat in the waiting room for hours until we were at last called into the little lime green office. The carpet was faded blue and looked like it was used as an ashtray. The woman sitting behind the pine desk was almost emaciated, her cheek bones stuck out. She wore a ridiculous amount of rouge on them; She wore a canary yellow pant suit, oh how "American" she was. Her voice was low and raspy, she held a cigarette in one tacky bejeweled hand and the adoption forms in another. Her office was bleak the lime green walls had clear damp stains on them and the entire room smelt stale. There was a rubbish bin beside the door i could see the rest of her ashes along with what looked like a bottle of wine. The one window the office had stared out onto a dark austere street with a flickering lamppost on the corner and the grody yellow taxi's were all in a line next to the pathway. The child we were to adopt was named Dave Pelzer, he had been viciously abused by his mother. All he needed was a home that could support and love him unconditionally. After all the papers were signed the woman called Dave in, he was nauseatingly angular. His soapy tufts of black hair fell over one of his sunken watery blue eyes. I went over and gave him a hug. He looked so defenseless and innocent how his mother could do the terrible things she did to him I'll never understand.
When we got home Dave was awestruck by his new house. "Do you like it?," I asked, he nodded still stunned at the town house before him. I sauntered in the grand engraved oak door and motioned for Dave to follow. Our foyer had a white marble staircase leading up both sides, there was a mural of the "birth of Venus" on the ceiling with a Waterford crystal chandelier hanging. I looked down at Dave, he looked like a deer caught in head lights. "Well what do you think?," I inquired as softly and warmly as possible. A quiet voice came from Dave, "Its lovely".His timid demeanor was endearing I couldn't help but find him lovable. "Thank you!," I replied proudly, "I've just finished having it decorated, by a dear old friend Mrs. Beaver." "Now come on let us head up stairs and I'll show you to your new room I hope its to your liking."
The next week went by swiftly. I spent most of my time during the day teaching Dave to play chess. One day Dave mentioned his mother. "I hated her. She treated me worse than a slave, I was an it to her," he murmured while his fists shook. "Well," I trilled, your Dave to me, a boy who has brought me joy I thought I would never feel again." "A Few years ago when I was married to my first husband, I had a son, he died in a horrific horse riding accident." "Its nice to have a child in the house again." Then Dave did something I'll never forget, he looked at me with eyes full of tears and said "Thank you.. Mom.." Although in a way I feel as though I did a disservice to Tony with our divorce, I will make amends by giving Dave a loving, safe home.
I woke up Sunday morning bright and early. The sun draped in through the curtains and gently awoke me. I looked around my bedroom I had all the toys I could dream of. The walls were blue and had posters. I crept out of bed and across the halls, I peaked inside, there she was attractive in a waif like way, her blonde curls gently fell around her shoulders and framed her long face well. She was sitting in bed cuddled up in a chiffon robe with the paper. The whole scene looked picturesque. Then Brenda saw me, "Come in dear I'd love your help with the crossword!" I edged my way in holding my head down worried that maybe if I looked up that I'd be back in America in my old house. She patted the bed assuringly, I hopped beside her and she gently cradled me in the nook of her arm. As I sat there in the plush room filled with rich fabrics, I thought maybe I'm finally home.