The Adopted Child

Isabel hated the smell of hospitals, the last time she had been in a hospital was five years ago when she had her little girl. This hospital, however, was homier than others. Perhaps it was the plush sofas and colorful pillows at the reception or maybe knowing that her best friend Wayne was a resident doctor in the place made her feel better.

She walked down the hallway to his office and knocked on the door. Before she could turn the knob, the door opened to reveal Wayne, a handsome blond doctor. He was showing a middle-aged woman out of his office.

“Goodbye, Ms. Diggs. Hello Isabel” he said, opening his arms “welcome”

“Nice cologne,” Isabel said.

“It is new,” Wayne said, smelling his sleeve involuntarily “come on, I’ll show you her room”

The room was at the end of the hallway when Isabel opened the door she was struck at how dark the room was with the blinds closed and how white her mother looked lying there.

“Isabel” Wayne called, Isabel turned to face him. “Go easy on her,” he said, squeezed her shoulder and left. Isabel locked the door behind her and walked towards her mother. The room was quiet, the only noise was the raspy breathing of the sick woman.

As she stared at her mother, Isabel wondered why she had never tried to find out about her real parents. Perhaps it was because there was not much reason to look for someone who didn’t care and was making no effort to find you or perhaps she was afraid. It had taken her over thirty years to get comfortable with her life, was there reason enough to change it?

“Mom” Isabel called. There was no answer, but the smell of sickness in the room and even her mother’s silence brought back a deep remembrance of her past in all its shades of pain.

***

The little Asian girl lay in bed, her black hair splayed over the pillows. The sign on her headboard said “6”.

“I’m just six years old mommy. I’m not too old for a bedtime story” she cried.

“But you’ll be too old when you’re eight, and that’s only two years away,” the mother said as she closed the windows and drew the curtains.

“Two years away!” The little girl exclaimed. “That’s a long time”

“It isn’t,” the woman said. She sat down at the foot of the bed and looked down on her daughter. “But I’ll tell you a story anyway”

“Yay. Mommy, I want us to read Bittie the scary mouse”

“Oh that. We’ve read that a million times. How about I tell you a new story?” The woman asked.

“Will it be as good as Bittie the scary mouse?” The little girl asked anxiously.

“It will be better,” The woman said. “Buckle up! We’re going for a ride!” Mother and daughter giggled and quieted down.

“Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful couple who got married under the snow. Their names were Beatrice and Holland and they loved each other very much. Beatrice had run away from her home without her parent’s approval because she was just eighteen years old and Holland forty. Then tragedy struck and five years later, they still had no children to call their own.

Holland grew impatient and begged his loving and dutiful wife to allow him to adopt a child. Beatrice agreed. What could she do? She loved her husband and wanted him to be happy. So one day, Holland came back to the house with a little baby in his arms. She was black, her hair was furry, and she was wrapped in purple shawls. Her name was Isabel.”

“That’s not exactly a real bedtime story,” a voice said from the bedroom door. The woman turned away from her little daughter who was already asleep.

“Shush Isabel! You will wake Minnie.” The woman said.

“The child you chose to name Minnesota. Mom, do you realize people would make fun of her for such a name when she’s like this big?” Isabel asked, indicating her waistline.

“No one will make fun of my baby,” Beatrice said fiercely.

“Of course. I really want to see those purple shawls though” Isabel said quietly.

“I already told you. Don’t go looking for them.”

“Mom. I’m twelve years old now! I deserve to see the shawls I was brought in.” Isabel said.

“Get to sleep Isabel! You’ve got school tomorrow” Beatrice said, putting off the light.

When she had gone downstairs, Isabel groaned loudly. Little Minnesota stirred in her sleep.

“Isabel” She murmured. It was not obvious if she was remembering her mother’s story or calling out to the twelve-year-old adopted child.

“Go to sleep Minnesota, you’ve got school tomorrow,” Isabel said sadly, staring up at the ceiling.

***

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Four Years Before

They were in the cafeteria during lunchtime, the eight-year-olds were still excited at being allowed to eat at the general cafeteria. They hung around in crowds, talking. Others sat at tables, their trays already loaded with food.

“Hey Isabel,” a voice said behind her. Isabel turned slightly to the side.

“Hi Dina,” she said. Turning back to her tray with the intent of hurrying up. She picked up her beverage of choice and left the line. She found a table very close to the back and began to eat.

“Can I join you?” Dina asked. Isabel looked up from her food. She wanted to say no but she didn’t dare, Dina was the class bully and no one told her no.

“You can,” Isabel said, with a small smile. Dina sat down, arranging her tray so that it pushed against Isabel’s.

“I saw your mother today, she was talking to my mother about the school.” she said after a while “do you want some fries?”

“No,” Isabel said, Dina put fries in her tray anyway.

“Your mom is Asian. Why are you, Black?” Dina asked.

“I was adopted” Isabel replied acidly, she was getting upset.

“Oh. That’s so sad” Dina said. She turned back to her food and began to eat. Isabel knew it was bait but she couldn’t resist.

“How?” She asked.

“Being adopted only means one thing,” Dina said.

“What is that?” Isabel asked again, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Your parents didn’t want you.”

“That’s not fair,” Isabel said staring at the other girl, tears filled her eyes and her lips quivered.

“I’m just trying to help,” Dina said “Ever tried finding your parents? My mom said adopted kids could sometimes find their real parents”

“I’m with my real parents,” Little Isabel said defiantly.

“Don’t be silly. Look at your skin, look at your hair.” Dina said getting up from the table. She smirked at Isabel and walked away.

“You’re mean. That’s not fair” Isabel cried into her food, gulping down tears and snot. No one was listening, the bully had gone in search of another victim.

***

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The doorbell rang and Beatrice wiped her wet hands on a cloth. With a final look of pride, she stared at her daughter’s old toys which were now all washed and ready for the new baby.

“I’m coming!” she called out when the doorbell rang again. “Who the heck is that?”

A tall black woman in bright clothing stood on her doorstep. Her face so beautiful and her lips so red that for a moment Beatrice was mesmerized by the sheer force of color. It took her some time to realize the woman was holding the hands of not one but two children.

“Isabel!” Beatrice cried out when she saw one of them was her daughter. So this eccentric woman was a social worker? Beatrice hugged Isabel even closer. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you”

“Can we go inside?” The woman asked calmly. Beatrice extricated herself from the little girl who looked more shell shocked than comforted.

“Of course. Do come in” Isabel’s mother said, beckoning the other woman into the house.

“I’m not a social worker. You didn’t have to do all that” the tall woman said calmly.

“Oh great” Beatrice sighed, giving a short embarrassed laugh. “How did you find my daughter?”

“You’ve got a beautiful family.” The tall woman said instead, looking at a picture of the four of them. “You’re so lucky, you’ve got two beautiful daughters and..” she stopped, staring pointedly at Beatrice’s pregnant belly.

“A boy”

“Yes, a boy on the way. I understand Isabel is adopted” She continued.

“Well yes. Who are you? You’re yet to introduce yourself.” Beatrice said, trying hard to keep her temper in check. This woman was blaming her without actually needing to say the words: I blame you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I am Emily’s mom, Jane” the other woman said. Beatrice looked on blankly. “My daughter Emily and Isabel are classmates”

“Oh. Great. I am Beatrice. You were saying?” Isabel’s mother asked. “Do you mind having a seat?”

“Thank you,” Jane said, brushing down invisible crumbs from her pants and sitting primly on the sofa. ” We stay in Pittsburgh, your daughter was walking ahead of us when Emily spotted her. When we caught up with her. Isabel seemed frightened of me but she relaxed when she saw Emily”

“Did she tell you why she missed her stop?” Beatrice asked.

“She didn’t,” Jane said, smiling sadly.

“What?”

“She knew what she was doing,” Jane said, “she told me clearly and intelligently that she was looking for her real parents”

“Her real parents” Beatrice repeated incredulously.

“Yes. By any chance, do they live in Pittsburgh?” Jane asked.

“No. That’s very strange. She has no real parents”

“What do you mean?” Jane asked, her interest piqued. Beatrice hesitated, was it worth it giving this woman so much information about the family?

“She was found in an alley with no identification. Her mother must have been a drug addict, or an irresponsible teenage girl” Beatrice said.

“That’s so sad,” Jane said.

“Yes it is”

“I’ll be on my way then.” Jane said as she rose “I would ask you to take better care of Isabel though. She is a sweet little girl”

Beatrice blushed red, as though she has been slapped “I will. Thank you so much for bringing her home”

“Goodbye,” Jane said, she whistled military-style and her daughter Emily came running out from behind the curtains. They both began to chat quietly as they left the house, Beatrice noted that they never looked back. She walked over to the curtain her daughter was hiding behind and lifted it.

“Isabel” she called, taking the little girl’s hand. “Can you promise me something?”

“What mommy?” Isabel asked.

“Promise me you’ll never run off like that again. That you’ll wait for mommy to tell you about your real parents” Beatrice said earnestly.

“I promise,” the little girl said, her eyes shining with tears.

***

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“What do you mean I don’t get to go?” Isabel asked. She had just gotten back from school to meet her parents packing up for a vacation.

“It is simple. You don’t get to go” Beatrice said.

“But Minnesota and Evan are going, so it is a family thing and not a couple’s thing,” Isabel said.

“Nice reasoning, could you get me my blue hat? It is in the closet” Beatrice said, zipping up one of the travel boxes.

“I am part of this family, am I not?” Isabel asked as she was near tears. Beatrice turned and stared at her for a moment.

“I asked for a hat, not your tears girl. Get me the bloody hat!” Isabel jumped. Rushed towards the closet and got the hat.

“Why am I always left out of family gatherings, vacations, outings, everything?” She cried.

“Because you have to go to school,” Beatrice said, giving her daughter a winning smile.

“No, I don’t. You could always call my school and inform them. That’s what all the other parents do!”

“What about all the other children?” Beatrice asked quietly.

“What about them?”

“Are they also adopted?” She asked, looking at her twelve-year-old daughter with disgust. When she realized she wouldn’t get any answer, she turned back to her packing.

“No,” Isabel said after a while.

“Good. You’ll be watching the house too. We’ll be back in a week” Beatrice said to Isabel’s retreating form. Isabel did not reply. She was on her way to her parent’s bedroom.

“Why does mommy hate me?” Isabel cried in her father’s arms.

“Oh, dear. Your mom doesn’t hate you” Holland said, he was a big giant of a man and Isabel looked small in his arms.

“It isn’t obvious!” Isabel retorted.

“Shhh. I have something for you” her father offered. Isabel looked up her tear-stained eyes, two red blobs on her face.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Come with me” her father whispered conspiratorially. Isabel tried to laugh at his gimmicks but it came out as a pitiful whimper. She nevertheless allowed him to drag her to the other end of the house and up the attic. After some minutes of digging through the piles up stuff in there, Holland came up for air. He was holding a carton of something over his head.

“What is that?” Isabel asked.

“A video game. It was mine, but I give it to you now” he said in faux solemnity. Isabel gave a genuine smile and Holland watched fondly as she tore open the cartoon and brought out its contents.

“Thank you, daddy. I love you so much” Isabel said to her father.

“I love you too darling,” Holland replied. A shadow passed under the trap door but neither of them noticed.

***

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“Those tears again,” Beatrice said, her voice raspy and weak.

“Mom!” Isabel gasped, she grabbed her mother’s hand but quickly let go when she realized her grip might hurt. “How are you feeling?”

“Great. Not dead yet but not for long. How’s your little girl?” Beatrice asked.

“She’s doing well. Wanted to come to see you but..”

“She had to go to school,” Beatrice said, she started to laugh but it quickly turned into a cough. Isabel got her a glass of water and helped her drink. For a while after that, there was silence. Neither woman wanting to destroy the almost easy camaraderie they had managed to patch up.

“I went to see Minnesota and Evans,” Isabel said. Her siblings had looked terrible, she had cried over them even after they both warned her not to.

“Can’t believe I’m dying before my elder sister” Minnie had said, she was 30 and still unmarried. A situation she was now grateful for as she wouldn’t be leaving anyone sad and lonely when she died.

“Take care of mom” Evans had said, cancer had hit him harder than the women and he was barely hanging onto life.

“How are they doing?” Beatrice asked, tears gathering in her eyes. Isabel caught them as they fell.

“They’re doing great. Both asked me to take care of you” Isabel said. Beatrice gasped in pain.

“I’m alright,” she said when Isabel stood up in alarm “I hurt in here, in my heart. You know, I always thought we could escape cancer. Surely it would pass over our generation as it passed over our parent’s”

“You’re not going to die. Minnie and Evan are not going to die. Dad is gone, I can’t be left alone” Isabel cried, burying her face in her hands.

“Lucky bastard, your father. Dying from old age.” Beatrice said.

“I miss him”

“Me too. He would have loved to be sitting in your place, watching his beloved wife die” Beatrice said, smiling weakly.

“Why did you always hate me?” Isabel asked, widening her eyes as though she was shocked at her own question. Beatrice turned to look at her.

“I never hated you, just thought you were unnecessary. I had a child of my own and later, two children of my own! But Holland wouldn’t hear of putting you in foster care” She said.

“So that was it. You had no use for me” Isabel said, more to herself than to her mother.

“Tell me something. Why did you never smoke, or do drugs?” Beatrice asked.

“Like Minnesota and Evan?” Isabel asked.

“Yes.”

“Asthma, can’t really enjoy smoking when you’ve got asthma,” Isabel replied.

“I never knew. You’ve been keeping it a secret from us”

“Dad knew. You could have noticed, you know.” Isabel said bitterly. It felt like another slap in her face, knowing her mother had not cared enough to notice she had a health condition.

“I still can’t understand how. We’ve got cancer in this family but no asthma.” Beatrice said, her brow furrowed in thought. “Oh! Of course. How could I forget? You’re adopted”

“Yes, I am,” Isabel replied, and for the first time felt grateful for it. She got up from the chair, kissed Beatrice goodbye and walked out of the room. She felt lighter than she had felt in years. No more wondering why she had received such sour treatment all her growing years. No more thinking she had been in some way inadequate. Somehow, knowing she had been useless felt better than thinking she was damaged.

“Thank you for looking after her,” she said to the receptionist as she gathered her daughter in her arms.

“You’re welcome!” The woman replied “She was no trouble at all”

“How is grandma?” Leslie asked when they got to the car.

“She’s fine. But you know what?” Isabel asked, tucking her daughter into the car seat.

“What?” Leslie asked.

“I’m going to get you a new grandma,” her mother said. Leslie smiled brightly, showing off the space between her front teeth.

“That’s so cool!” She said. Isabel laughed happily. She took a last look at the hospital building and drove off.

“Sometimes, a full stop is the beginning of another sentence” she murmured under her breath.