Adopted

The year was 1992. It was a Friday afternoon in the small town of Branch, Louisiana, and nine-year-old, Angel Garcia, sat patiently in a chair between two neatly made iron rod twin beds. She looked around the room as the sun beamed in from the double hung window above her head. She felt a bit conflicted. She was told that her mother had died giving birth to her and no one ever knew who her father was. So, she lived in foster care all her life, and it wasn't​ easy for her. She was the only Latino in the whole town, so she was an outcast who was picked on. She saw herself as living in a world where everything was black and white, and she was just a little brown spot soiling everything.

She looked at her small, green, suitcase that sat on the bed, which was no longer hers. She tried to picture the one couple that spoke to her at the adoption fair last month. She could not remember their faces, but she remembers staring at them thinking they looked scared. She remembers observing them from her sacred corner of the room where she seemed to disappear from everyone’s sight. The couple walked around like they weren’t sure if they wanted to go through with an adoption. Then suddenly, as if they felt her eyes on them, they turned and looked at Angel. She then realized she had been staring at them hard. She had always been taught that staring at someone was rude, so she quickly turned her head, but she thought she saw them smile at her before she did. Pretending to watch all the young children in their fancy dresses and suits, with the bow ties as they drank punch and tried to entice couples into taking them home, Angel tried to get a peek at the couple from the corner of her eyes. She could see them walking up to her.

“They must’ve seen me staring at them,” she thought. “I’m in so much trouble.”

Not once did she think they were coming over to meet her. They stopped just before her and stood there smiling.

She looked up at them for a second, and then put her head down. “I’m sorry,” She said as she starred at her feet.

“What are you sorry for?” asked the man.

“For starring at you,” she told them. “I know it’s rude. Please don’t be mad at me.”

The lady then sat in a chair next to Angel. Her black knee length skirt seemed to strain as she crossed her legs.

“We didn’t come over here because we were mad at you. We came to meet you,” said the lady. “What’s your name?”

“Angel.”

“That’s a very pretty name, and I think it fits you perfectly. My name is Nancy and this is my husband Lawrence.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Why are you sitting in this corner all by yourself?” Nancy asked.

Angel just shrugged her shoulders.

“You look like you spend a lot of time alone” said Lawrence. “Do you like being alone?”

Angel shook her head yes.

“I’ll bet that’s hard to do with so many other kids living here,” he continued.

“Not really.” Angel said. “Most of the other kids ignore me, except when they’re picking on me.”

“Do you get picked on a lot?” he asked.

“Only when they’re board.”

“Misery loves company,” Nancy said.

The director of the foster home, Ms. Allen, walked into the middle of the room. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the adoption fair is closing for the evening. We need to get the kids ready for supper,” she announced.

“Well, it was nice talking to you,” Nancy told Angel.

“Maybe we’ll be able to talk again sometime,” Lawrence added.

They said goodbye and walked away.

The following week Ms. Allen came to Angel and told her that she would have a new mom and dad. Angel instantly knew it was Lawrence and Nancy, but still could not remember their faces.

As she continued to sit and wait, Angel heard the squeak of a vehicle coming to a stop. She turned and looked out of the window to see the school bus parked at the curb, unloading all the other foster kids. She turned to face the doorway of the room, as the sound of children entering filled the house.

She starred at the bedroom door, and took a deep breath.

“What’s taking them so long,” she thought?

Tamara, her roommate, walked in and threw her book sack on her bed.

“Why weren’t you on the bus today?” she asked Angel.

“I got checked out of school,” Angel replied.

“I got checked out school,” Tamara repeated in a mocking tone. “Whatever,” she continued, then she knocked Angel’s suitcase off the bed.

The suitcase hit the floor and snapped open throwing Angel’s clothes out. Tamara ran out of the room laughing.

Angel got up out of the chair, picked up her suitcase and clothes, and began to repack. Although she was confused about her feelings of living with these new people, she was happy to be getting out of this place. She would not miss it at all.

Ms. Allen walked in and saw Angel trying to stuff everything back into the suitcase.

“Angel,” she called, “I told you to be packed and ready to go when I got back.”

Angel tried to explain, “I was, but Tamara knocked over …”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Ms. Allen said, cutting her off.

She grabbed the few clothes that Angel had in her hand, stuffed them in the suitcase, and closed it up quickly afterwards. She picks it up off the bed and hands them to Angel.

“Here,” she said. “Now, let’s go.”

Angel followed Ms. Allen down the hall through the living room, where several of the younger kids were watching television. They went into the kitchen, pass the dining room, where she could see the older kids sitting at the table doing homework. They headed to the back of the kitchen, into Ms. Allen’s office. When they entered, the couple stood smiling at Angel.

“Angel, this is Nancy and Lawrence Jones. They’ll be taking you home,” Ms. Allen told her.

“You do remember us, don’t you, Angel?” Lawrence asked.

“Yes I remember,” she replied as she tried to return the smile.

“Are you ready to go, Angel?” asked Ms. Allen.

Angel shook her head yes and they began to walk back out the way they came. They stopped in the living room.

“Everyone, come and say goodbye to Angel,” Ms. Allen shouted.

The older kids came out of the dining room.

“Where is she going?” one of the older boys asked.

“Angel’s been adopted. Now, say goodbye and wish her luck.”

The room filled with a bunch of dry and uncaring goodbyes as Angel and her new parents headed for the door.

Just before she walked out, Angel heard one of the older girls say: “She’ll be back. You know how those people are. One little slip up and they are ready to send you back.”

Angel looked up at Nancy wondering if it was even worth leaving. Many times, she saw older kids get adopted and, as far as she knew, every one of them had been sent back. Nancy grabbed Angel’s hand and gave her another warm smile to reassure her that everything would work out for the best. Then they walked out the door.

Reviews

[Sunny]

I really enjoyed reading this, and am looking forward to reading more about Angel's journey. What a difficult start in life.
Your description of her feelings of isolation and difference were really well described in the opening lines.