Of Concrete and Starfish

Delilah, a young African American girl is adopted by a devout Jewish couple who, months after adopting her become pregnant with conjoined twins.

Prologue:

She started running, which was a huge deal because she never ran for anything. Breathing manically, eyes wild with terror; she could even hear her blood pulsing in her ears. Delilah was running for her life.

Chapter 1: Of Concrete and Starfish

Uniquely, Delilah was was born to parents who were too young to have children. “Babies having babies,” was the way her adoptive mother put it. That in itself was the extent of the information she received about her birth parents and it didn't bother her at all. Not one bit in fact. Her adoptive mother, Carol tried to tell her about them once, but when she started her sentence with, “Drugs are a complicated thing-” Delilah simply cut her off. She began to wonder if she was the product of crackheads, because in turn that would mean she was just another black crack baby that was adopted by kind hearted Caucasians. And that was a narrative, Delilah refused to be apart of.

The foster home where she lived until the ripe age of 7 years old is permanently burned into her mind, almost like an unseen tattoo of sorts. The home was located in New Jersey, surrounded by concrete- no grass or playground in sight for miles. In her memories, Delilah views it as a concrete prison. Sure, she’d made friends but it was always short lived. Kid’s came and went every other day.

“I don’t even want to be adopted!” she’d wail to anyone who’d listen,  although it was evident in her face that she was curious about what  life outside of the those concrete walls was really like. Once, the head of the orphanage organized a field trip to the kid’s aquarium on the other side of town, the kind that encouraged touching. Delilah was so riled up she thought of puking- but that’s when she saw a little caramel colored boy with ruddy cheeks and eyes the color of Eden crying in the corner. He seemed as though he was trying to make himself disappear into the floorboards. And that was a feeling she knew all too well.

Approaching him slowly, she moved the hair from her eyes and whispered, “You afraid to touch the starfish?”

He nodded slowly, avoiding her gaze. But, Delilah, ever the little talker and enthusiast saw this as a bonding opportunity.

“Well maybe we can sit here together.” She sat next to the sniffling child, but he still said nothing.

“Who wants to touch those things anyway? I mean...what’s so great about a starfish?” She was baiting him, but it was clear he wasn’t going to bite.

“Not much of a talker are you?” She asked, and he shook his head.

“Will you at least tell me your name?” He meets her eyes then, and she lets out a tiny smirk.

“Wilson.”

“That’s a grown up name. And  a grown up wouldn’t be afraid of a starfish; they're like little frisbees.” She whispers with fake disgust, and he finally smiles.

And this is how Delilah and Wilson became best friends. You see,  Wilson  was afraid of everything, and Delilah made fun of everything, so  it was perfect. Nothing makes a child more at peace than realizing their greatest fear really isn’t so great.  He never left her side after that day, that is until Delilah was adopted.

Delilah is grateful. Even beyond that, truthfully,  that she was adopted- it’s just the things that occurred after that were unexpected. She was adopted by a well off couple in their mid 30’s, the Bachmans. Devout Jews,  Carol and Peter attended Temple often, but once Delilah was old enough to travel along with them, the stares became a bit too much for her mother. Seeing a black child in Temple with two white parents apparently wasn’t the social norm. Her parent’s still sneak off to a service or two every now and then, and even ask Delilah to join them out of kindness, but she always declines. Because she knows how important image is to her mother. Which is why everything that happened seemed so.....interesting.  When asked by Delila why they adopted her, her parents explained that they  had trouble conceiving a child so, they decided to adopt one instead. Delilah still remembers meeting them for the first time, it’s something she couldn’t forget.

Among foster kids, it’s common knowledge that the older you are, the least likely you are to be adopted. Once Delilah hit 7, she’d resigned herself to the idea that she’d never be chosen but that was okay because she would just live in the home with Wilson. When Kid’s Day rolled around again, Delilah was seated in the corner with Wilson, the two were cutting up construction paper, making them into paper planes. The rest of the children in the home, however, were on a mission: Get Adopted. And how would they do that? By trying to be as adorable as possible. Some kids were sitting doing math problems, trying to show off their intellect, while others played with jacks, letting out giggles to attract the onlookers.

Delilah found the entire set up strange. She felt like they were an animal exhibit; dressed in their best clothes and expected to do tricks. However, before she fully gave up on the idea of being adopted, Delilah did play along with the rest of the children trying to get as much attention as she could. The home had limited entertainment, but they did have a VHS of the Shirley Temple movie. Delilah would watch the tape as many times in a row as she could, practicing tap dancing in her ruddy socks. And when Kid’s Day would roll around, Delilah would begin to tap dance and sing “Animal Crackers” from the film, but she never garnered the attention she was looking for.

Sitting in the corner with Wilson, Delilah drifted into her own world. She and Wilson made paper planes all the time, the problem was- they could never actually get them to fly.

“I bet I got it this time!” Delilah exclaimed to a skeptical Wilson.

“Yeah right!”

Ever excited by a challenge and the spark in Wilson’s eye, Delilah stood up triumphantly and threw the paper plane and to her delight it actually flew. Only, it flew right into the eye of Mrs. Bachman.

“Oy....ow...oww!” Mrs. Bachman was now clutching one eye, while the other was laid directly on Delilah.

“I am so absolutely, mega, super, freaking sorry!” she said in a rush, and she shuffled over to Mr. and Mrs. Bachman. Mrs. Bachman was glaring at Delilah but Mr. Bachman had a strange expression on his face.

“I really am sorry, Ma’am-”

“That’s quite an arm you got on you!” For the first time, Delilah really looks at the couple. The woman, although temporarily injured, is beautiful with long dark hair and cherub like cheeks. Her heels click when she walks, and Delilah likes that. The man is tall and slim, with a full head of ashy brown hair. His face is smooth like that of a young man but his demeanor shows his age.

“I’m sorry?” Delilah says, slightly confused.

Mr. Bachman reaches down on the floor to retrieve the discarded airplane and looks at it in amusement.

“You made this?” he asks.

“Yes, Mr....?”

“Bachman.” He says, smiling warmly and reaching out a hand. Delilah takes it gently and smiles slightly. This man is a nice one, she thinks.

Over the next hour, The Bachmans and Delilah chatter back and forth and Mrs. Bachman eventually gets over the fact that her eye was assaulted with a paper plane. They ask Delilah about things she likes, and she tells them enthusiastically about wanting to be just like Shirley Temple and about her recent growth spurt which makes her think she could also pursue basketball if she ever decided to take that route. The Bachman's laugh and smile warmly at her.

“Delilah,” whispers Mr. Bachman, “would you like to come live with us?”

The thing about the Bachman's is, they get what they want. Always. And that’s something, Delilah has come to learn over the years. Once when she was in school, she wrote an essay about the Louisiana Purchase, only she didn't fully write it on her own. Mrs. Bachman helped her. The teacher gave Delilah a B-, but after a long phone call with her new mother, Delilah was given an A +. She supposed that grown ups were sensitive about their grades too.

So there she was, little 7 year old Delilah Johnson, sitting in front of the Bachmans. The family that wanted to adopt her. She contemplated a bit before she answered.

“Can my friend Wilson come too?” She asks, and immediately realizes it's a mistake

The couple look at one another with a sad expression and then back at the little girl before them. She knows what is coming her way.

“The thing is, sweet heart, we can only afford to have one child and-” Mrs. Bachman starts but stops because Delilah is no longer looking at her. She’s looking back at Wilson in the corner with his paper plane that won't fly.

“I knew it was a long shot..but Wilson is my only friend.” Even as she says this sentence, she is certain that this will not matter to the Bachmans.

“How about this-” says Mr. Bachman, trying to make the mood light again. “How about if we agree to keep you in constant contact with Wilson? You can write letters and once he’s adopted, we’ll even take you to visit him.”

Delilah smiles wide.

Yes, it all seemed like a dream come true. Especially once she came home to the Bachman's, she saw what a nice lifestyle they truly lived. I mean they had a swimming pool and a blender for smoothies! She felt just like Annie. If Annie was black with afro puffs.  But all dreams have to end at some point. 6 months after adopting, Delilah, her new mother discovered she was pregnant. With twins.