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Introduction to Brandlady.com |
HOPE
T he children inside the train visibly trembled in both anticipation and fear. They looked through the windows at the adults lined up and down the train station as the train whistled and signaled their arrival. The curiosity in their eyes was evident by the way their lips were pursed together in thoughtful ambition and misguided intuition. What the day held was as good a mystery as any and although they were fearful of the future they were fairly certain that it would be better than their past. Inside the rail cars there were, dispersed almost evenly, little clumps of students talking in eager rapport about the families that were going to take them home. In one corner some girls, around the age of seven or eight were whispering in each other's ears. "Who do you think will choose you, Elsie?" The question came as quite a surprise as Elsie eyed her red-haired friend with exuberant freckles. So unlike herself, she thought. "I am not sure, Mary, I have been here twice before and no one has picked me." Not wanting to upset her friend, Mary thought about the proper response to her friend's sad plight. "I am sure you will find a family, this time." Mary smiled at Elsie as she said this. Elsie could not tell her friend what she already knew. Partly from embarrassment and partly from shame, she hid her secrets well from the others. She knew that her chances of finding a family were slim to none, and she was aware that when it came right down to it, that she did not even stand a chance. She was sick, the nurses at the school called it the AIDS, and all she knew was that she had been born with it. She had even overheard the nurses talking and commenting on how they could not believe that she had lasted this long, "And to be doing so well!" The others would adlib. "Elsie, the train's stopping. Come on, let's get ready!" Her friend's excitement was palpable and she could almost feel a small flutter in her own heart. But then, there was also that familiar lump in her throat that threatened to cause her to regurgitate her morning breakfast. She swallowed hard as Mary took her hand and pulled her off the train. The sisters ushered them into one central location and all around them the families mingled about, looking each child up and down, checking inside their mouths and ears. In the children's hands were papers. These papers were specific to each child and although Elsie could barely read she knew that the contents on her paper were specific to her disease and did not contain anything positive. Standing in the shadow of the train, Elsie watched as the adults came one by one. She recognized many and many recognized her; perhaps, this is why they skipped right over her, looked past her as if her chances of getting a family were virtually nil. The sisters attended to whatever the parents requested, and money was exchanged. The whole scene made her sick to her stomach and she took a seat on one of the benches. She watched as Mary was chosen, then Sarah, and then Lisa. The train ride back to the center would be a lonely one, but she had already known this. Elsie begged the sisters not to make her go, and every week they would look at her with a sympathetic glance and pat her on the shoulder. "Now, now, Elsie, don't you want to find a nice family?" As if it were up to her, Elsie thought. There came a gentleman, carrying a black bag and wearing a grey hat. His suit was neatly pressed and his bow tie was straight and centered on his collar. He approached her apprehensively and motioned to her, as if silently asking her if he could sit beside her. She gulped as she nodded her head, refusing to get excited. The gentlemen introduced himself as Gerry McIntosh. He said he was from Philadelphia and asked her where she was from. Everything inside of her told her to answer, but she could not find any words. Her throat was dry and she could only stare straight ahead. "How old are you?" "I'm eight. I have AIDS." There she had said it! Now she did not to wait for him to read her paper. He could simply move on to one of the other girls. "I know." He said this as if it did not matter, as if he already knew. Had he already talked to the sister about her and if he had why was he still sitting next to her? She eyed him cautiously; eyes slanted downward, hands clinched together in tight fist that exposed white knuckles. "You mean, you already knew I was sick?" Elsie asked this with a hint of unbelievable duress. The man listened as she asked this question and tilted his head so as to be on the same level as she was. There was a sort of compassion in his eyes, and familiarity. This was both reassuring and devastating, because if knew, surely he was only there to talk with her. "I uh, knew your mother, Elise. Believe it or not I have been looking for you for a number of years. I am still quite astonished to have finally found you." Confusion blurred her vision and she looked at him for the first time in the face. Elsie could remember very little about her mother except for her eyes. She remembered the way they sparkled like ocean water in the setting sun, at least until she became too sick. Elsie searched this stranger's eyes who had been looking for her. "Mister, my momma's dead. She died when I was five. I have been at this center now for three years." She waited for his response. Expecting that at any moment he would get up and walk away, leaving her once again alone. "Elsie, I am sorry about your mother." He seemed genuine and his tone was beginning to put her at ease. "I talked with your mother just before she passed away, Elsie. She told me about you, and although I had never met you I felt as if I knew you well. I was not aware of the specific day that she passed and so when I learned about it I naturally thought of you." "Why naturally?" Elsie asked this genuinely. "Well, Elsie, I am your mother's brother. In our extensive conversations she told me about her condition. She told me she did not have long left and asked me if I would look after you when she passed." As he spoke, Elsie's spirit lifted. Could it be true? Could there really be someone here for her, just for her. No inspections or minute decisions. Was she really wanted? "Well, here I am." Elsie spoke softly. "Would you like to come with me then? I loved my sister very much, and I love you very much. I am genuinely sorry that it has taken me so long to find you." Elsie looked up at her uncle with a tear brimmed eye. He smiled at her and extended his hand. Together Elsie and her uncle walked away, each looking forward to a new life, and a new reason to live. BY Jennifer Smith 
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