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CHAPTER 1

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Memory Made Dream

I close my eyes and darkness falls

Beneath my lids, an invitation to the unknown.

Is it real?

A fleeting memory from a lifetime ago?

Or is the child standing amid the playground an illusion?

A hope long buried, designed to make me yearn?

This burning sensation leaps

From the abyss that resides in my chest.

Or is this somehow something altogether different?

A sign of foreboding or a fortune out of reach?

— JANINE MCFARLANE

Creative Gifts

J oyful laughter and running children scattered across the Creative Gifts playground. Among the ruckus, one solitary white boy stood off to the side. Crouched close to the ground, only he knew what held his fascination. For the two girls playing together mere feet from him, his unique knowledge could not stand.

Because the weather was unpredictable this time of year and frost continued to visit the area and harden the ground, the boy’s actions further intrigued the girls. Did his behavior have to do with the change in today’s weather? It was mid-March and the temperature had warmed and the sun shone brightly.

The girls, through silent consensus, approached the boy and crouched down on either side of him, staring as he poked the ground with a stick.

“What’re you doing?” asked the little Black girl wearing bright-colored hair beads at the ends of her cornrows.

“I’m digging a hole,” the boy said.

The other Black girl who had her hair in afro puffs lowered her head to the ground. “Why?”

“None of your business.” He stood, tightening his hold on the stick.

Both girls rose and stared him down despite his towering height, fearless in the face of his darkening glower and reddening face.

“Ooh, you’ve got a secret. Is it treasure?” Hair beads girl reached for his pockets.

“I said it’s none of your business!” He shoved her, causing her to stumble a few steps but not fall, then he walked away to crouch in a new spot.

The two girls looked at each other, shrugged, then flanked him. This time, they were quiet as they observed the boy with a temper.

He started a new hole, ignoring the two girls. Or he tried to. He stole glimpses of the girls who watched intently instead of joining the other children.

The dirt was like frozen clay, thick and difficult to dig. After what seemed like ages, he made a quarter-sized hole in the ground.

The silence from the two girls prompted him to blurt, “I’m making a trap!”

“It can’t be a good one.” Hair Beads folded her arms.

“I bet it’s better than any you can build.”

“But if it’s a trap, shouldn’t it be secret?” Afro Puffs pointed to all the surrounding people.

“No one ever sees me, so no one’ll know.”

“But we saw you.” Afro Puffs’ response earned her a heated glare, as if pointing out the hole in his logic was cause for annoyance.

He pressed his lips into a hard line but said nothing to challenge her.

“And we know where your trap will be.” Hair Beads’ taunting caused him to throw away his stick.

“What do you know?” He stomped off, disappearing among the crowd of boisterous children.

Despite their search, the girls didn’t see him anywhere until dinnertime. Similar to when they were on the playground, he sat alone amid the youthful cacophony. Kids lined up for their meals, sat and horsed around over their plates, and acted boisterously now that they had food to fuel their fun.

Like earlier that morning, the girls shared a look. They got their trays with dinner and set them on either side of him. When he remained silent, the girls began to eat.

After a few seconds, Afro Puffs noticed he only ate the chocolate cake on his tray. She swiftly placed her portion on his plate.

“What’d you do that for?” He reached for his fork but stopped before touching it.

“It’s what friends do.” Hair Beads shrugged and forked a noodle into her mouth.

“We aren’t friends.”

“We are now.” Hair Beads slurped the wiggly noodle.

“Why would I be friends with a bunch of babies?”

“I don’t know, but it’s been decided.” Afro Puffs’ quiet finality halted the boy from protesting further.

He retrieved his fork and gobbled the chocolate cake before offering his pasta to the girls while eyeing Hair Beads’ cake.

“We’re friends, but I don’t give nobody nothing with chocolate.” Hair Beads forked a sizeable chunk and gobbled it up with relish.

The news that he wouldn’t achieve the holy grail of miracles, getting three slices of his favorite dessert caused him to shrink in his seat.

Hair Beads plucked a piece of chicken from his plate, oblivious to his reaction. “I wouldn’t give chocolate to my mama if she rose from the dead and took me away from here.”

This new insight into these insistent little girls sparked his interest. “Your mom died?”

“From I was born. I been here my whole life. The other kids,” Hair Beads glared at the other children in the cafeteria who were oblivious to the trio, “said it was my fault. Just because they knew their parents before they died don’t mean they better than me.” She returned her attention to her plate. In a tiny voice, she whispered, “Why would anyone kill their mama? Mamas hug their kids and kiss their boo-boos. Mamas make everything feel warm and soft.”

“Until they stop. Mine left me here and said she would be back. That was when I was six. I’m ten now.”

“She’ll come back for you.” Afro Puffs glared into his eyes.

“You’re wrong. Today, the director, Mrs. Granger, told me she died. Worst birthday ever.”

“Today’s your birthday?” When he nodded, Hair Beads frowned at her dessert. “You better not be lying to me.” She shoved the cake at him. Before he put his fork in the rich dessert, she stole a mouthful, leaving only half of the cake. “What? I feel for you, but I got to get mine, too.”

Afro Puffs disappeared from the table. After a few minutes, she returned with a cardboard box and set it in front of the boy. “Happy Birthday and I’m sorry about your mommy.”

Curious, the boy pulled the flaps open. “Holy?—”

She covered his mouth and looked around the room. When no one paid attention to them, she released him. “Not one word,” she whispered while pressing her finger to her lips.

Hair Beads leaned over to take part in the secret. A wide grin broke out on her face. Inside the box was a quarter of a chocolate sheet cake. When she grabbed her fork to take back the half she’d given the boy, Afro Puffs slammed the lid closed and shook her head. Hair Beads pouted, but took her seat next to the boy without further protest.

The boy sat in amazed silence. “Since I’ve been here, no one’s ever been this nice to me,” he said, choking out the words.

“I’m nice to my people.”

“You say that like you own me.”

“I do.”

Hair Beads nodded. “She told me the same thing when she arrived two days ago. And when that fuzzy-haired Trishelle tried to mess with me, she made sure Trishelle knew it, too.” Hair Beads snickered. “Trishelle walked out of the bathroom like she saw Jesus.”

“Isn’t Trishelle thirteen and taller than some adults here?” the boy asked while staring at Afro Puffs.

She stared stonily back at him without saying a word.

“That didn’t stop her from getting stomped.” Hair Beads mimicked wailing on the table. “So, I don’t mind being owned by someone who looks out for me without me asking. Cause everybody here is out for themselves. You should know that by now. I bet you won’t mind her looking out for you, either. Not after she puts whoever bothers you in their place.”

“B-b-but how old are you?”

“Five.” Afro Puffs goes back to eating her pasta as if she hadn’t dropped a bomb on the older boy.

“Me, too. Are you sure I can’t have one bite? Nobody’s watching.” Hair Beads inched her fork closer to the box, but a side-eye from Afro Puffs sent her back to her pasta.

Since the girls found nothing odd about adopting him, and with so much cake available, the boy decided he didn’t need to belabor the point. Instead, he turned to eating the birthday cake Afro Puffs gave him. Rather than shoveling the dessert into his mouth as fast as a speed eater at an eating competition would, he took small bites, smiling after swallowing each.

When he caught Afro Puffs staring, she jolted. “When my mom comes to get me, I’ll make sure she takes my people with us.” Her eyes widened in surprise as if she hadn’t meant to reveal her thoughts.

“She’s not coming back,” Hair Beads said. “She’s probably dead like the rest of our parents.”

“She’ll come for me, along with my daddy. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“How come you’re so sure? My mom never came back for me, and she promised,” the boy said.

Afro Puffs stared the two down. “Because these people stole me out of my daddy’s car when he and Mommy went into the store. And if they don’t come for me , I’m going to leave here and get them . And I’m taking you with me.”