On Tuesday morning she was set to meet her new guardians. She had considered hiding under her bed or bribing one of the other kids to take her place but she was sent to separate sleeping quarters from the other children until her last day at the foster house. The melody cicadas welcomed her with their annoying morning refrain buzzing around her. As predicted she was taken and driven to her new home by the same social worker who told her she was leaving.
"How long do I have to stay here?" Rene asked the question before, but held out hope that the answer would change.
Her deep-set brown eyes were long and sharp but softened with something akin to sympathy, giving Rene the kindling of hope that she might just change her mind if she tired her out.
Her social worker unloaded her backpack and a suitcase that she was given to pack her belongings. The suitcase was leftover from a previous foster child who was adopted. One of the wheels didn’t roll properly explaining why it was left behind in the first place.
With a sigh Ms.Eres gave her a long suffering look.
“As long as it takes,” Her social worker answered.
Rene turned away to hide her chagrin, her eyes stung a bit. She wasn’t sure if the heat was getting to her or if the mix of gas and freshly cut grass made her nauseous.
She distracted herself by sight seeing what would be her new neighborhood, a cul de sac with trees distributed about shielding the homes from the worst of the suns rays. The first house she noticed was painted in random colors with the top half in lime green and the remaining a nude brown; another house that caught her eye was still standing but clearly condemned the paint having shedded over time and now degrading the wood. She could picture the frame crumbling with just a whiff of a breeze. She kind of wanted to explore it now but the no trespassing and warning signs gave her pause. A few houses over was a yellow house with a flowerbed in front of a stone patio. And on the front lawn were couple of kids sized bikes. A house with kids. Maybe they would have kids her age and if not she could still make friends even if there was an age difference. She could play and make nice maybe habe have the opportunity to be a sister again. She walked behind Ms.Eres with her lugging her backpack they approached a house painted gray with white trimmings. Faded signs reading no trespassing hung on the chain-link fence. A frayed piece of yellow police tape clung to the metal gate. Curved glass shards, red-green flakes of peeling wax smeared the concrete. What looked like the remains of a candle lay discarded at the edge of the fence. Maybe there had been a vigil?
“You need to appreciate what you have,” Ms.Eres cut into her contemplations. She sighed. “Yeah I know, I mean I just. I still miss them, it was fun while I had them.”
They made their way up the porch steps.
Rene dragged her feet on the way up and said. “Maybe they’ll be cool.”
She turned to peek down at her slumped shoulders. At least her face was dry this time. She forgot to bring a tissue or rag.
She gave the girl a reassuring smile “exactly,” and leaned in to knock on the door.
There was a clinking of latches and metallic banging on the other side. The door swung open with a heavy bang. A fog of nicotine wafted out. Standing at the doorway was a thin spindly woman with a small round face. Her glance raked them up and down.
“Hola,” the woman greeted them with a sharp wave of her hand. Her smile was as thin as metal wire, her voice too high and nasally.
“Uhm, hi,” Rene said, unsure of how to receive the salutations.
Ms.Eres continued as if there was no mockery, only business. “Hello, is this the residence of-”
The woman narrowed her eyes and snapped. “Yes, this is my house.”
Rene watched Ms.Eres blink, her amber-brown eyes assessed the skittish woman in front of them. Rene did the same and didn’t like what she saw. Ms.Eres didn’t seem to either.
Though the woman's clothes looked clean there was a strange ordor wafting off of her. Her thin ashy brown hair was frizzy and her freckled skin pallid. The tips of her fingers were vigorously rapping on the doorframe and were yellowed, matching her teeth. None of that was alarming. What did raise her alarm were the woman's eyes. Her pupils were pinprick-sized black dots. Her eyelids were drooping but widened in the effort.
With a polite composure that Rene could only admire but never master, Ms.Eres spoke, “May we come in?
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