Somebody's Someone (31 page)

Man oh man! Was I tired of hearin’ these folks say “Welcome to the stupid shelter!” It was like they had to keep sayin’ it so I would think I was welcome for something. Miss Sandy explained to me all the rules, as she called ’em. I learned that the kids was on some kind of system called a behavior chart. All we had to do is every day clean our rooms, go to school for the whole day without problems, and get along with everybody we come in contact with. Miss Kennedy butted in and said that for everything good I did, I would get a gold star. And that five gold stars a week meant that I could, at the end of that week, go to the prize closet, where there was a lot of toys and games, and pick whatever I liked. But if I got a red mark—which was bad— I’d have a chance to redeem myself by doin’ a extra cleanin’ job or something like that. And if I got two red marks, I’d have to get a special okay from a counselor. However, if I got three red marks, Miss Mason said, there’d be no redemption possible, and I would be makin’ my life real hard and unpleasant-like.

I listened as best I could, but they was talking pure hogwash. Who in they right mind had ever heard of such a way to talk to kids? All they needed to say was
Look!
If you don’t give me no reason to whoop yo’ ass, there won’t be no ass whoopin’s going on. Period. I would’ve understood that. But red marks and redemption? I didn’t know what they was going on ’bout. They also said that my stay at the shelter was only for a short time, and since I wouldn’t be there that long, for me to make the best of it. How did they know that? I wondered, but I kept quiet. After making sure that I understood, Miss Mason left me and Miss Kennedy alone and went out to take care of the loud and noisy group that was forming outside the room.

“Do you understand all that we’ve discussed with you, Regina? I know we’re giving you a lot of information at once, so I just want to check in with you and make certain you get it.”

I lifted my eyes to look at the woman sitting in front of me, and nodded my head that I understood.

As part of the rules of the shelter, they made me give up all my personal stuff. I didn’t have much. Just a plastic baggie I’d slipped in my back pocket right b’fore leaving the Bible-toting Jesus freak. I gave over the mood ring I had put on. I’d found it on my way from school one day. I also handed over a half of a smoked cigarette that I was holding on to for a “friend.” Miss Kennedy made me throw that away fast-like. She said it was illegal for me to have it on my person since I was underage. She smiled and went on ’bout collecting my things. There was one thing left inside my li’l plastic bag that had been in my pocket. It was a ball of tissue that I’d been saving for a long while. The nice lady wanted to know what was rolled into the paper that I was holding on to so tight. I looked down, waitin’ for the tears to fall from my eyes onto my hands, fingers, and legs, but nothing happened. I was dry as dirt. I decided to ask if I could keep the toilet tissue with me.

“No, it will be safer in our care,” she said. “Especially if it means that much to you.” I gave it to her without a fight, and Miss Kennedy promised that it would be there when I needed it. She also told me that I could come and look at whatever it was at any time.

I r’membered on the day I had thought to save it. I hadn’t taken a bath for so long that Nadine told me I was gonna run folks away ’cause I smelled so bad. I then ran me a tub and got in it. I didn’t wanna get wet ’cause I didn’t wanna wash the place on my face where my mama last kissed me. I didn’t bother to tell Miss Kennedy that the toilet paper was holding the last kiss that my mama had gave me.

“Here you are, sweetheart,” the hip-swishin’ woman said to me, and handed me a pair of tan corduroy shorts and a striped T-shirt. “I’ll need you to change into these, and hand over the clothes you are wearing to me.”

Both pieces was folded nicely, and I could see a little pair of red feet on the shirt and short pockets. Oooh-weee! I just knew I wasn’t gonna be able to take much of her! Now I know I was s’posed to treat all grown folks with a certain ’mount of respect by not talking back and doing what was asked of me. But these folks was asking too much. Whoever heard of people taking all your stuff from you, then tellin’ you to make yourself at home? What kind of place was this? “Hey, why come I cain’t wear my own stuff?” I asked.

“Because those are the rules,” Miss Happy Trails explained as she walked on ’bout her business. Later on, one of the girls told me why they took our things. One reason was that they had to protect against lice, and another was if we didn’t have our own things, we’d think twice about running away. Well, it seemed like they had it all figured out, but who would try and run away? Seemed to me, if anybody had paid attention when they came in, they would’ve seen that they’d be runnin’ a long time before they got anywhere.

While I was changing my clothes, I heard a voice call out, “It’s breakfast time,” and I sat and watched as the other kids ran out the room. I had no notion where they was going to eat, but I got off my bed and followed behind ’em, snapping the button on my shorts and wigglin’ into my shoes at the same time. I didn’t see ’em all last night, but there seemed to be a whole lot more kids than just the ones when I first came. There had to be at least thirty-five in all. We made our way to the eating room. It was a long room with real high plastic windows all round just like the halls I had come through with Mr. Porter. I could see outside to the play yard. It looked real big. I could also see that there was a big brown fence wrapping itself the whole way round the yard. It was the tallest fence I’d seen, and anybody thinking of jumping it would need to be good at fence jumping. I decided to let that kinda wondering alone. I took in a deep breath and sat down with the other kids.

Being at the shelter for the most part wasn’t too bad. Us kids went to a school that was in the same buildings as where we lived, so we didn’t get to go round too many other folks on the “outside,” and that was a li’l hard for me. I missed being free with my friend Marlena and even Anica—well, not so much Anica. Even if it was less free, there were still good parts ’bout the shelter. One of the best parts of the shelter was I learned how to swim. Miss Mason and Miss Claire Kennedy took me and the other shelter kids to the city and county swimmin’ pool. At first I didn’t even wanna get in that water, on account I didn’t wanna have to be swallowin’ other folks’ pee. My play cousins back in Texas told me that city and county pools was for folks who didn’t have commodes at home. And most likely, if I swallowed water, it was gonna be full of pee and you know what else. I told this to Miss Mason, and she said that wasn’t so, that there was too much of something called chlorine in the water for me to be worried. I believed her and jumped in.

Miss Kennedy was beginning to make my heart tingle whenever I got round her, specially while I was swimming, or at night when she’d come in the room where I slept and teach me how butterflies kissed. I cain’t rightly say when parts of her started staying with me even when she was gone. I started to ’magine things again, like how it might feel if I was to get a new mama. All I wanted was to be round her.

Whenever we’d go swimming, Claire—that was what I called her in my mind—would hold her arms out wide and tell me to jump in the water. “Come on, pumpkin, don’t be afraid. You can do it!”

When she said it that way, I believed her. In fact, I believed I could do anything. I’d stand on the edge of the concrete—toes gripping hold of the hard ground. Bending over from the waist with my hands above my head, I’d fall in the water, and Claire would always be there to make sho’ I was all right.

“Hey there, champ. How does it feel to be so brave?”

I could feel my heart leave my chest and take a sit beside hers.

“Keep that up and you’ll be ready for the Olympics.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded good anyway. After just a few lessons of learning to kick my feet, catch my breath, and turn my head, I was for certain that I could swim.

I plunged my body out in the water. “I can swim!” I screamed. “I can swim.” All the while I was choking on the water that had got caught b’tween my throat and my nose, burning me till my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

“Not quite so fast,” Claire told me as she put the flat of her hand under my belly and learned me how to float. I couldn’t do it without her, so she never left my side. B’fore long, I could dive in the water and swim b’tween Miss Claire’s and Miss Sandy’s legs. They would stand in the water, spread they legs open wide to make a bridge, and I’d go under and swim through without kicking ’em or anything! Shortly after that I learned to jump offa diving boards. By the end of a coupla weeks, I was able to fight the water clear ’cross one side of the pool to the next. Both Miss Sandy and Miss Claire said they was proud of me. I felt like somebody’s favorite ice cream cone that they couldn’t live without.

Seemed like most of the counselors at the shelter was real good at something. They was specially good with working with they hands. I learned how to make crochet stuff from watching Miss Faustino, and from Miss Kennedy too. Outta all the stuff I watched them counselors do, this thing called macramé was my favorite. Once I learned it, I was able to make pot holders and wall coverin’s. I even made a lampshade cover and sold it for a lot of money to a lady I met—only thing was she never gave me the money after I gave her the lampshade. The staff at the shelter told me it was a lesson to be learned ’bout trustin’ people to things before they actually paid for ’em. I was never gonna do that again.

Being at the shelter was betta’ than being anywhere I’d ever lived. I never had to worry ’bout being in the dark with no lights, like we sometimes was out at Big Mama’s, or havin’ to wait for the grown folks to eat and then gettin’ whatever was left over, or watchin’ Glenn’s real children. No, I was in a good place. Maybe the Lord knowed what he was doin’ after all, by callin’ my bluff and havin’ me leave south Austin. Even though I was likin’ being at the shelter, I was scared to like it too much, in case I’d have to go back and live wit’ my own peoples. I promised myself not to let nobody know how much I liked being where I was so no one would take it away.

I met Miss Coral Matthews the second month I was in Martinez. All kids who lived at the shelter, by law, had to meet with a social worker within a certain ’mount of time—and my time had arrived. Miss Matthews was a real ole white woman with hair the color of a Big Hunk candy bar without the peanuts. Even though she looked like she’d been round awhile, it didn’t stop her in no way a’tall from seeming alive. That woman talked quicker than ole Cousin Eli talked slow. I learned to keep up with her just ’nough to hear what I needed to know. According to Miss Matthews, the county—that’s what she called it—had tried on several attempts to get ahold of Glenn so that they could reunite us, and when that didn’t work out so well, they’d asked him if he could refer them to my mama, and he did. They’d tried working on Ruby, and asked her if she could come and get me. She told ’em, “Let me see when I can get some money together, and I’ll come and get her.” But she still hadn’t showed up. Miss Matthews never mentioned nothin’ ’bout Big Mama, and neither did I. I asked Miss Matthews why I had to live with Glenn or Ruby, since it was clear they didn’t want me. Miss Matthews said that my well-being was b’tween my daddy and mama; they was the ones that I belonged to. But I knowed better; what was b’tween them was what got me into this mess in the first place.

“They don’t want me.” I looked at Miss Matthews and let the words roll into her ears, giving her time b’fore I continued myself. “Anybody with any mind of they own can tell that none of my peoples wants me. I been here almost two months, and ain’t none of ’em called. Didn’t you tell ’em where I was and give ’em my number?”

Miss Matthews looked like the cat had stole her tongue right out from under her. We sat ’cross from each other in quiet. Miss Matthews was sittin’ at a desk, resting the elbow that was holdin’ up her arm, while her hand covered her mouth. Her eyes was looking at mine. My heart felt like somebody was sitting right there, in my chest, beating the daylights outta me wit’ they fists. When the talking did start, ole Miss Matthews went first.

“From the looks of these records, you’ve been through this before, yes?”

“Nah. I ain’t never been through this b’fore.” Why does everybody keep telling me I have? My mind went back to the policeman, who’d told me the same thing.

“Well, according to our information, you were scheduled to come into the system four months ago! All your paperwork was drawn, and your father signed the papers. Did you know anything about this?”

Now ain’t that some shit! My mind was spinning fast. This must’ve been what Glenn was talking ’bout when he said, “I’ve looked into a couple of places.” It was all coming clear to me that Glenn must’ve knowed that Nadine or Ruby couldn’t take care of me, so he had called these folks up and tried to pawn me off on them.

“How are you doing with all this information, Regina? How do you feel?”

I looked up at that lady and thought she was plumb outta her mind. What was she talking ’bout, how did I feel? How was I s’posed to feel?

“I feel fine,” I told her as I slumped down into my chair. I wasn’t gonna go into how mad I really was on account, it really didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t like anybody was gonna do shit ’bout how I was feeling. I turned my eyes on the ole woman who was staring at me. “What?” I asked her as she kept staring. I wanted to know what else she wanted from me and decided to turn her question back to her.

“How’d you feel?” I asked her, thinking maybe I could borrow some feelings from her, since I didn’t have any to give.

“I’m not the one who’s important here. I’m more concerned for you. As you know,” Miss Matthews went on to say, “the shelter is only meant to be temporary, which means a limited amount of time. It isn’t our idea to have you stay for any long periods. We will be setting up foster-home visits for you as soon as possible, hopefully finding suitable placement for you until your dependency status can be determined or your parents show up.”