A Home for Adam (A Short Story) by Dara Girard

A Home for Adam
    Dara Girard
    © 2012 Dara Girard
    Published by Ilori Press Books LLC
    Cover by Kimberly Van Meter
     
    All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced in any fashion without the express written consent of the copyright holder.
     
    A Home for Adam is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed herein are fictitious and are not based on any real persons living or dead.
     
    ***
     “Send him back!”
    “But he just got here.”
    “I know so it shouldn’t be difficult to put him on a train back to where he came from.”        
    “Claire,” her husband, Jonah, said with a tired sigh. “Let’s just think about this.”
    Claire folded her arms and shook her head, adamant. “There’s nothing to think about. I don’t want him here.”
    “But he’s my sister’s child.”
    “That sister of yours has lots of children. If she’d keep her legs closed, she wouldn’t have to farm them out for other people to raise. I doubt this one even knows who his father is.” She looked at the boy and shivered. “And I don’t like the way he looks at me. It’s as if he knows something he shouldn’t.”
    Claire Swedan wasn’t the only person to feel that way. His mother had felt the same way  the moment he was born with his two front teeth intact and big brown eyes that had an eerily observant expression not seen in newborns. Adam Trelawn was born with eyes like that of an old man: Wise, judging eyes.
    Orphelia felt them watching her when she let different men into her life (especially into her bedroom) as if they were a weight of conscience that she’d ignored years ago when she’d left home to live with her first boyfriend, a man who’d said he was a musician but really made his money selling ganja (also known as marijuana), infusing the air with its smell. Adam’s eyes watched in silent reproof of the cramped, dirty apartment, the always empty fridge, and the new swell of her belly that came every spring. Was it her fault that Reggie didn’t like condoms or that she’d forgotten her diaphragm with Buster?
    Adam quietly helped her with changing the diapers and feeding the new arrivals, but she felt his reproach and soon grew to hate him. What did a little boy know about a woman’s needs? Was she supposed to be celibate because she was his mother? Was she supposed to deny herself the urges that filled her? The urge to be in a man’s arms and hear him say how much he loved and wanted her—even though they were lies? She held out a faint hope that one day she would meet a man who didn’t lie and she was determined not to stop until she found him.
    No, Adam knew nothing about her or her needs. He was just another greedy little mouth to feed. At least Damon had money. She wouldn’t let Adam make her feel guilty about that. A man with real money was a step up for her. Unfortunately, even though Adam barely spoke, those knowing eyes of his haunted her and made Damon nervous. And because there was only one male in her life who mattered to her, four days after his tenth birthday Orphelia packed Adam’s things (briefly regretting that she’d no longer have free childcare) and shipped him off to her cousin, Wendy.
    Wendy Lisle was a lonely woman eager for company and accepted the child who arrived on her doorstep with one suitcase and a meager two hundred dollars to cover expenses. She hustled him into her three-level townhouse and settled him in the kitchen and gave him something to eat. She imagined buying him new clothes--his trousers were too short--and getting him a nice haircut. It had been so long since she’d had someone to care for. Her husband was gone and her children lived faraway. Now she could put all her love and energy into Adam. She made him a tuna fish sandwich with thinly sliced cucumbers and romaine lettuce and set it down in front of him; imagining their new life together then she looked into his eyes and burst into tears.
    She hurried out of the room and