Chapter 27
As the sun set, coldness slithered into the mobile home.
The fact that Mary behaved as heartless as Adriana’s father did nothing to warm the room.
She hadn’t thought it was possible to meet someone as uncaring as her father, but she did. She might as well still be with him. At least then they would share something in common, genes. It wasn’t much, but it was something. This woman was a complete stranger.
It would have been dark inside the mobile home as well as cold, but the fluorescent ceiling lights had been left on.
Adriana wished she could reach the jacket on the chair next to the door. She needed her arms to be free for the jacket though, and for the box as well. If it held something dangerous, she didn’t want to open it while tied to a pole.
In the other room, Cindy stopped crying as people began burping, coughing, and sneezing again. It sounded like a group of people. Why didn’t they learn manners? Didn’t they know not to cough and sneeze on children? Who raised them?
Through the parted curtains of the window, Adriana saw lightening flash in the sky, twice, three times. A series of rumblings overshadowed the ill manners of the adults next door.
But it didn’t frighten her. Strangely it calmed her. These people frightened her.
A great bolt of light flashed outside with a booming, breaking the darkening sky.
She smiled. If anything, maybe a big storm would stop these idiotic loser parents.
She missed Sharon. Sharon would never burp on kids. She was kind. She had been there when Adriana needed her. She had helped Adriana get along with two different sets of foster parents. Adriana used to resent them, but Sharon helped her recognize it was really anger at her father for abusing her. Sharon had also helped her adapt to having no left leg. She taught Adriana to fill her life with things she loved. Adriana bought more books, became a member of a reading club at the public library, and visited on-line groups of bird watchers. Now she could identify many California bird species.
Rain began beating the metal roof of the motor home.
Adriana remembered the handsome man, Laif, who had followed Sharon. She wished he had followed her to this camp. She hoped Sharon didn’t have a romantic interest in him. The way she treated him at the foster home made it seem that she could never like him. Adriana thought Sharon was a bright woman, but when it came to men, she evidently wasn’t very smart. That was fine though. That just meant he was free for Adriana. He was a little older than her—well maybe a lot older—but he could adopt her first, and then when she became an adult, they could fall in love and get married.
She sighed.
He seemed knowledgeable and strong. He would know what these crazy parents were up to and how to stop them. The way he looked at her was special. He saw past her absent leg and saw her for who she really was inside. His look made her feel warm.
No one liked her at this camp except Cindy. And Cindy wasn’t herself. As a foster sister and friend, Adriana saw it as her responsibility to save Cindy.
Behind her back, she lifted the box off the floor a couple of inches. It felt as heavy as a baseball. She shook it. Something inside hit the walls. She turned her ear toward the box and heard a splash. No. More like a slush-mush, if that was even a word.
Deciding to get a closer look, she snapped her wrist forward.
The box landed next to her leg. She scrunched down on her side and used her knee to turn the box on each of its six sides, carefully inspecting each. On the third turn, which showed the lid of the box, she saw two words carved in the center. They were very small so she almost overlooked them. They were also surrounded by decorations, making them harder to spot. She moved the box closer to her head with her knee.
It read: Inside Out.
What could that mean?
The burping and crying stopped next door. Adriana froze when she heard footsteps.
They were coming back.
She quickly sat up. She tried pulling her blouse over the box but it was too short. There wasn’t any place she could kick the box or push it so that it would be hidden. She moved her leg over it.
The door opened and Cindy stepped inside, alone. She sat at the table with a blank stare.
“Cindy? You okay?”
She appeared somewhere far away.
“Pssssst! Wake up!”
Nothing but an unblinking stare at the wall.
She had no choice. Her friend seemed to be getting worse here. She felt bad about using the box again, but it was her only link to her friend in this state. Besides, this time she knew better than to let Cindy open it. “Hey. I know where the box is.”
Cindy turned her head to Adriana. “Where?” There was coldness in her voice.
“I hid it. Untie me and let’s get out of here.”
She screamed, “Mom!”
“Shhhh! What’re you doing?”
“Mom!”
Within less than a minute, Mary tramped into the room. She asked in a shrill, perturbed voice, “What is it?”
“She has the box.”
Mary glared at Adriana. Those hawk-like gray eyes held unspoken words: you are stupid, worthless, and ugly. How could Cindy have endured their glare for so many years? She had eaten breakfast early in the morning with them, been with them all day long, and saw them as the last sight before the lights went out at bedtime. Adriana would’ve lost her mind only two weeks after being born.
The woman grabbed her by the ankle, threw her leg to the side, and picked up the box.
She inspected it carefully, then read the inscription, “Inside Out.”
Mary seemed to age ten years. Worry wrinkled her face. Her hands trembled.
She rushed to the cabinets and began frantically searching through them. After that, she looked behind the couch, underneath the seats and cushions, and in the storage compartment underneath the table.
Then she screamed, “Joooooeeeee!”