Five Yearsof Development and Devastation...
"Hi. My name is Nigel. Are you new? I haven't seen you before, but Ms. Thomas said we should make friends with new kids so they feel welcome. Do you like to color? I love story time and recess the most. My mom said we're getting pizza for dinner. I like Legos. Do you like Legos? They're so cool, and I love to build stuff with them, although my dad hates it when I leave them on the stairs because he steps on them. Do you have a dad? Where do you live?"
I'm not sure why Nigel picked me to come have a conversation with, but I don't want to be bothered. I miss my mom, and I don't want to be here. The bed I'm sleeping in isn't like the bed at my house, and I want to go home. Mrs. Spivey doesn't tuck me in and kiss my cheeks like Mom did. Mrs. Spivey says she's my mom, but that can't be true because my mom's name is Sheryl. Mrs. Spivey said her name is Jennifer, and that's how I know she's telling a story, no matter what she says about being my real mom.
"Hey. Hey. What's your name? Can we be friends? I don't have many friends. The kids usually run when they see me coming. That hurts my feelings because I want friends too. Canyou be my friend? What's your name? My name is Nigel. Do you have a favorite color? My favorite c?—"
Ring. Ring.
"Oh, that's the bell. I gotta go. It was nice talking to you, buddy. I hope we can be friends." Without another word, Nigel runs off, leaving me with my thoughts.
Mommy, why did you leave me with these strange people? I know you said I was ready for school, but you weren't the person sending me. I don't know these people. Those people want to change my name, saying it's not the one they gave me. Mommy, where are you? I don't know what's going on. Please come get me. I don't like it here. You said you would always be there for me. Where are you?
"Jawaan! Jawaan!" A syrupy voice calls my name, causing me to look up from kicking the broken rocks on the pavement.
Lifting my head to the brown skinned woman standing beside me, I fight the urge to fall apart in her presence. My bottom lip trembles and my watery eyes make it challenging to make out her face.
"Aw, sweetie, come on. Recess is over, and we have story time, which will give you a chance to relax. Would you like to pick out our book selection?"
Shrugging, I place my hand inside Ms. Thomas's outstretching palm before heading back toward the school entrance. With every step, I feel like my heart is seconds from dropping out of my chest. The heat filling my core has my bottom lip becoming a chew toy for my teeth, and I'm incapable of stopping the action. I didn't think I would have to do kindergarten without my mom. This isn't fair. Mrs. Spivey didn't look back or speak when she dropped me off at Ms. Thomas's classroom this morning.
Mommy, I need you. Please come back and take me home. I don't like it here with these strangers. I'll be a good boy, I promise.
Two Years Later
"Are you sure you don't want to give it more time? He seems like a sweet kid, but I understand there might be some hesitation on his part due to the situation," an unfamiliar male voice asks.
Twiddling my fingers in my lap, I kick my legs back and forth in the hard chair I'm sitting in across from the office where a meeting is taking place. I have been living with Jennifer and Jared Spivey for two years, and nothing has changed for me. Talking to them isn't something I embrace, nor is establishing a relationship with them. They're not my parents. I don't care how many gifts they buy trying to convince me to change my mind. My tears haven't wavered, nor has my longing for my mom, despite the counselor the Spiveys sought to help me with my transition. I am a Young, regardless of how they feel about it, and thankfully, they have decided against changing my name.
"We're sure. We have been trying to bond with that boy since he came back. He has repeatedly given my wife and me his ass to kiss. It's like he's been brainwashed or some shit. We have told him countless times that we're his birth parents, yet he continues to tell us that we aren't," Jared relays in an aggressive tone that makes my eyes water.
"I know this is crazy given the situation, but that boy isn't my little boy, and he refuses to let me be his mother," Jennifer adds.
"This situation can't be easy for Jawaan because for the first five years of his life, he's known Sh?—"
"Don't you fucking say their names in my presence. Those kidnapping sons of bitches turned my child against me. I spent hours pushing his little ungrateful ass out, only for someone else to take him from us. Then, when we think the cards changed and we would get our child back, he isn't the child I gave birth to," Jennifer aggressively says, causing me to shift in my seat from the hardness of her delivery.
At seven years old, I'm able to understand what I couldn't at five, and I now know that Sheryl and Zack Young aren't my biological parents. In fact, they stole me from the hospital within twenty-four hours of my birth. In the last two years, none of the adults in my presence have felt it necessary to keep me from overhearing the devastating details of my existence. As a result, I have been withdrawn and barely communicating with the people who are still strangers to me. Instead of trying to bond with me, Jennifer and Jared Spivey continue to allow me to self-soothe, which means I spend a great deal of time in my room. When I'm not in my room, Jennifer and Jared put me in situations that have caused me to feel like livestock. I have lost count of how many people havepoor babyme in the last twenty-four months. I believe last night's incident is why the three of us are at Franklin County Children Services.
"Now that you've been here and got situated, your mother and I feel like we can bring your sister home. She's missing us and we definitely miss her too. So, this weekend, you need to prepare to make nice with her," Jared says, glowering while standing over me with his hands resting on his waist.
"I don't have a sister because I'm an only child. My mom couldn't have any kids after she had me," I respond.
"Damn it, boy. I'm fucking tired of having this same conversation with your ungrateful ass. My wife and I sent our daughter to live with relatives for two years so we could get your ass accustomed to living with us. We've neglected ourchild for two years, and you keep giving us your ass to kiss. You're such a fucking?—"
"Don't say anything else. I'm tired, too. We'll handle this in the morning," Jennifer interjects, cutting Jared off.
"How about I arrange some family counseling for you all first?" the unknown man asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.
"No. We're done. We're gonna go on about our lives and do our best to forget he exists. When we leave here, it'll be the last time we think about that boy. Let the city of Columbus worry about his ungrateful ass. I'll have another baby to make up for the reminder of the stretch marks I obtained with his birth," Jennifer fumes.
"So, you want to relinquish your rights?" the unknown man asks.
"Yes. Have yourself a good day," Jared confirms before footsteps sound seconds before he and Jennifer exit the office.
Neither Jennifer nor Jared made eye contact with me before walking toward the bank of elevators and entering the shaft a second later. I stare blankly in disbelief at the empty hall where Jennifer and Jared once occupied.
Did they just walk out on me too? What is wrong with me that two sets of parents have turned their backs on me? I hate Columbus, Ohio.