With a creak and groan as the door's hinges protested their load, I realized that thankfully it was just Trixie. I respected parents like Trixie much more than those that gave up and put their kids up for adoption. The orphanage was more than happy to help out single moms that had to work- at least they were trying. How can parents know that they're kid will be better off being completely cut off of from them? They don't. They're just too self-centered to think about those sorts of things. But I guess I'm a little biased..
Stuffing my morose thoughts back into their locked box in my brain, I turned my attention back to the doorway. After Trixie's eyes strayed to her watch for the fifth time within the minute, I cut the small talk and told her that I would see her later today when she picked up the kids. Taking the cue, she handed over Sweet Pea and Baby Boy- each with a whisper and a kiss on the cheek. With a sigh, I waited for the wailing to start since Sweet Pea only reflected her name when in her mother's arms. After counting backwards from 30, I slowly began to relax my jaw and investigate the phenomenon. Where was Sweet Pea? Rocking chair..pile of video tapes..beanbag chair..stuffed animal corner..Samantha and Sweet Pea. There she is. Sweet Pea cooed in Samantha's arms while Samantha held her just like a mother..although she was only twice her age. I always thought it was a little creepy how girls seemed to be born with the knowledge of how to take care of kids. Then somehow as they grew up some girls could have the slightest clue about a kid's needs while others, like Trixie, loved her kids completely and knew that was enough. Wow, I'm gonna have to buy a new lock for this box of mine.
Leaving Sweet Pea to Samantha and handing off the daily task of waking up the kids to Annie, I headed down to my room in the basement of the orphanage and grabbed a couple of coins. I liked to pay a visit to an old friend of the orphanage that spent his days in front of the clinic playing his CD that I made for him several years ago and shouting out verses to those that thought giving him some change would ease their minds. More often, the verses tended to bring up even more troubled thoughts- something I loved watching as businessmen walked away past with eyes seeing lost opportunities and 100 pound secrets instead of the steaming present that some dog left on the pavement a few minutes earlier. Spending a couple of minutes listening to REM always reminded me of why it was more important for me to be here, in the present, instead of back where..everybody hurts. I knew Harry through the last guy that ran the orphanage who knew him as the bundle that appeared on the doorstep of the orphanage clutching a sticky note containing his name and the simple description of "blind". As Harry heard the clink of my coins against copper, he shouted out "What will come will come. Even if I shroud it all in silence." and gave a knowing chuckle.
No different from the businessmen that leave Harry in deep thought, I walked miles through long deserted avenues in my mind to get back to the orphanage.
The moment I stepped on the Welcome doormat, I heard the shouts of laughter that could always snap me back to reality. These kids didn't need a blind man to tell them that they're past was behind them. They lived every moment thinking about their jello cup and only their jello cup. Not the cattle hooves that the jello came from and certainly not how they had a unconventional family because their 100 constantly present adoptive siblings and parents more than made up for the two parents that they lost.
I mean, how much good does sharing DNA really do you?
