" Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a family; but whatever you call it. Whoever you are, you need one." - Jane Howard.
I remember vividly the time I stepped in the orphanage as if it were yesterday. Despite being two years of age, I still had the memory firmly grasped in my mental realm. Mrs Hornbill was having a chat with Esther in a rather lower tone while I sat in the lobby next to her office. As I watched the people roaming up and down the corridor, my mind caught hold of the conversation between the two women.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Mrs Hornbill asked. By the time I never knew precisely the nature of the question until now. Without feeling agitated, my mom nodded approving to the question. The one answer to all the questions I never wanted to ask.
I wish I was able to talk her out of this madness and assure her we would both make it out alive in this dreadful world. I am not that hard to deal with. I'll behave I promise if that's the case. I'll not keep on crawling back to your bed during the night when I had bad dreasm, I'll also learn how to sleep by myself like how you've always wanted.
"There you are my lil'champ," Mrs Hornbill said as she carried me between her arms. " let's go and play with the toys.' I shrugged off clearly depicting I wasn't interested with her mischievous schemes. She grasped me so tight that I almost couldn't breathe and die of suffocation. I cried out to Esther but she stood there calmly and unbothered.
"Arv, mommy's going to get you some sweets, so behave well with aunty and you'll get more sweets," he kissed my sweaty forehead and waved me goodbye. Everything suddenly stopped, I felt my head spinning so fast that I couldn't get hold of myself. My shirt was dripping wet from the sweat as I felt my fragile body burning with hot flashes racing their way through my tiny body. Like a thick velvet curtain of a theatre, the environment around me got consumed with darkness and I couldn't tell the conversation in the crowd. Everything went entirely off on a millisecond.
I woke up hours later during the night confused and having an excruciatingly painful headache. I let my eyes wander the room from the white ceilings to the grey walls, it was like a black and white movie, or did I knock my head really hard and was in the process of losing my clear vision? The light from the cornered window incapacitated my vision feeling the little eye capillaries being pulled out from the back of my head, for how long was I out? My wandering imaginations were halted instantaneously by a dulcet voice originating from the left side of the bed I was occupying.
"Harry, how are you feeling?"
Who in the whole wide world's Harry?
By the time, Aunt Liz was one remarkable woman in appearance. Her flawless and spotless skin was dripping with beauty and elegance. She sat there gracefully with her beautiful brown eyes intertwined with mine. I couldn't precisely know what to say next from my wrongly pronounced name to responding on the normality of my body functioning.
"Harvey, " I muttered. I was turning three and surely had an eloquence in my speech. She watched me keenly and confused not being aware of the situation.
"My name is Harvey and I am not feeling so well ,"
"Oh! It must be so bad not getting your name in our first conversation, sorry for that" apologetically said. "I am Miss Elizabeth, your new teacher,"
New teacher? What is she trying to say, I never had any teacher before and was hell not planning to have one soon.
"Where is my mother? I want my mom" I declared.
"Your mom is not coming back anytime soon Harvey, but we will take care of you accordingly with love and care you shouldn't worry at all."
There was bit pieces of assurance in her calm yet authoritative voice but I never recalled asking for any love and care from strangers, I had my mother for that. Sadness commenced shadowing me incrementally as warm tears cascaded their way down my cheeks, I couldn't stop the oozing. I was afraid.
Afraid of the monstrosity that lies ahead. Why would she announce this at a more and cruel straight forward manner?
"My mother is going to get me sweets,"
"No she is not, she lied"
At this point I couldn't hold it any longer, I bawled and started wailing uncontrollably. What did I do to annoy my mother that she chose yo leave me in this treacherous establishment? I loathed this woman seated by me, was she doing this deliberately to hurt my feelings and denounce the credibility of my mother? I couldn't tell. Or was it all that she said the truth? How could I get subjugated completely in this confusion without a proper awareness to the set up? If my mother chose to throw me off to the wolves, then she surely could have easily picked a knife and slit my throat open and be done with .
Every moment I tried to find answers to my rhetorical questionings I departed further away from reality. From the background I could hear Muss Elizabeth talking indistinctly about something related to getting a bath or something. I tried picturing the moments from where my mother took me to the town festivals. I did not realise I was making memories with her, I just knew I was having fun. I would point on the roller coasters asking for a ride but she would deny immediately and there would be no more discussions. Instead she bought me stuffed animals and had chocolate ice cream together. I would cry if she denied me a taste of the popsicle she was having but instead she would buy me candy sticks. These all were getting back to me in fragments and I would try and fix the pieces together to create a sustainable imagery.
Although our time together was short-lived, my mother and I had memories longer than the road that stretched miles and far away. The only thing left behind of all these was the beautiful reminiscence.
"You need to get up and get washed, let me help you out your rubbers," Aunt Elizabeth lashed.
During the beginning, Aunt Liz was do tyrannical and inhospitable that I hardly stomached her her unpleasant treatment. I never got to understand the severe and crushing personality. Why would she be so harsh to me? I never asked for any of these. Get me home. I need my mother. I was still in denial.
Obediently as instructed, I got off the bed and got hold of Aunt Liz as we walked down the hallway. After the long and quiet walk, she called out for the woman responsible for my bath.
"Vanya!"
"VANYA!"
After a little while, a lady appeared, you could tell she was in her late forties or fifties as she seemed a bit older than the rest of the women in the orphanage, older than Mrs Hornbill.
"Yes Miss Elizabeth,"
"What took you so long? I called you out five times."
"I am sorry madam, I was doing the laundry,"
"Enough with the lies! Have this kid take his bath and get him in fresh pajamas,"
"Okay madam, I will,"
"Escort him to the dormitories, cube no. 29 and be ready when I need you next time,"
That was it. Miss Elizabeth let go of my hand and resumed to-her-whatever-she-was-doing. Vanya led me to the facilities and had me bathed and clothed. Moments later, I was heading towards what looked like the dormitories and Vanya had me placed in a room marked number 29. Inside the room, I met another woman in her early twenties and she looked like she was expecting me.
"Welcome home lad, my name is Leila and I will be with you this entire time," this was more hospitable and a warmer welcoming than what I received earlier. She carried me to one of the bankers and slowly carresed my silky hair by running fingers through them. Finally I felt tranquility and got some sensible sleep.
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There are times when we stop, we sit still. We listen and breezes from a whole other world begin to whisper." —James Carroll