I open my arms out wide in a gesture of total abandonment as if I’m expecting to grow wings and fly far away from this place. Alas, I don’t sprout wings. I simply bask in the wind. There’s no freedom quite like sailing on a board down the street. I smile to myself. My parents always called me a speed demon and insisted that I’d end up hurting myself someday. If they only knew. I dressed warmly in a hoodie and jeans just for the occasion of zipping through the streets without a care in a world. It’s feelings like this that remind me of who I am despite the storms that brew in my life. I know the next few days will be rough, and I’ll have to lie my butt off. But regardless of the lies and the changes, this feeling is the same. I’ll always be the girl searching for excitement and freedom. 

Down the street, I go, dashing around people who don’t even spare me a second glance. The “Tula: Home of the Fortune Festival” banner hangs proudly at the entrance to the city square, waving placidly back and forth as if daring to challenge my resolve. Even though the festival ended four days ago, the excitement still hasn’t seemed to die down. And believe me, I want it to die down. That festival has never given me anything but bad luck. I’ve successfully stayed outside of its slimy tendrils’ reach the last couple of years. 

“Slow down you hooligan!” I hear as I swerve to avoid a vendor’s cart. I direct a laugh straight up into the air as I round the next corner. As the Tula Department of Child Services building comes into view, my smile fades, and I mentally prepare myself for a taxing day. I’ve been putting this visit off for a while, but I need to get settled into a home and signed up for school in time for the new year. I kick up my board and tuck it under my shoulder. Looking into the reflective doors, I try to cool --my features- I can’t allow any slips this time. I hadn’t actually minded living with the Meyers,’ they weren’t too prodding about what I used my time for or too nosy about my past. Yet, I made sure not to get attached all the same. I knew it wouldn’t last. Nothing ever lasts, my brain finishes for me. My tawny brown hair is unsurprisingly in disarray but mostly covered by my baseball cap. Still, I comb my fingers through the ends, which are 6 inches shorter than they were yesterday, and fail to pass even my shoulders. But I like to start each reset off with a fresh haircut. 

I go over the ‘says’ and ‘do not says’ in my head one last time, pleading to God that I don’t slip up. What I’ve learned over the years that matters the most are my inflection and sincerity. Although I’ve always been told that my eyes give way to the truth I feel, I’m counting on everything else to sell the story. It’s partially true anyway. That’s how I operate, sneaking little half-truths into my stories these days just for kicks- I’ve got to find amusement somewhere. I tighten the straps of my backpack and adjust my hat. I’m going for a good mix of ‘teen in need of shelter’ and ‘self-sufficient’ and I may add, ‘upstanding citizen.’ But who am I kidding? I’ve never been that. I release a long blast of air, gripping the door handle to swing it open before I can drum up any excuses to leave. 

I’m hit with a fresh puff of rosemary and Clorox just as always when I enter the building- I’ve outgrown the urge to wrinkle my nose in protest. Strolling up to the counter, I note the digits of the clock hanging on the wall above- 7:30. Right on time. A pudgy-figured man with freshly clipped hair and glasses sits behind the counter. His name tag reads “Harvey.” He’s from Boston, and he sounds like it, too. I always loved hearing him go on and on when I was younger. I smile to myself- he’s my favorite of the two security guys. Maybe Lady Luck really is on my side today? I bite back a snort at the thought. Harvey’s computer screen reflects online poker in his lenses and I have to cough quite audibly for his attention. It’s common knowledge that he has a gambling problem, but 7:30 is the earliest I’ve seen him play. “I think I’d check on that one, buddy,” I say. He swivels his head up so fast that he’s probably contracted whiplash. I lean down to prop my skateboard against the counter while he registers his shock. 

“I’m sorry, can I help you?” he asks and then looks me over as if seeing someone who slept outside overnight and used the facilities at the beach to freshen up. Which- ding, ding, ding, someone gives this man a prize- he is. 

“Yes, hi. I’m here to be put on the list for foster care,” I reply and then shoot him my prizewinning ‘orphan-in-need’ smile. 

He raises an eyebrow at me, “Never had a teenager come in here before and ask to be put in a home.” Which of course isn’t true, he just doesn’t remember. 

“Yeah, I’m a special case. I’ve been living with other people,” I say and note the truth in it. “Figured I’d give foster care a try.”

He scoffs, “Aight kid, tell me straight and we can avoid any trouble for this stunt. Where are you running away from? Parents take away your car or something? Oh, wait, don’t tell me- boyfriend broke your heart?” 

I bite back an insult because clearly someone peed in his bean curdle today. I settle for replying curtly, “I don’t have any parents.”

He looks almost remorseful. “No family? Grandparents, cousins, aunts, or uncles?”

“Nope.”

“Then who have you been staying with?”

“Sometimes nuns, or any caravan full of decent looking hobos,” I shrug my head to the side, “maybe an occasional sewage rat colony.”

Harvey looks at me like he can’t quite believe I just said that.

“What?” I say, “They’re good people. Even make for a decent stew.” 

“Who?” Harvey asks, “the rats or the hobos?”

“The nuns.”

Harvey’s lips quiver as he fights a laugh. He stares at me for a long few seconds before blowing out a large puff of air. “I’ll have to get down some basic information about you, and your profile will be handed to a caseworker here shortly. Hopefully, you’ll be more forthcoming with them.”

I doubt it.

“Awesome.”

“Okay, the first question should be easy,” he says. “Name, please?”

“Taliyah.”

“Last name?”

 I smirk. “No last name. Just Taliyah.”

He eyes me. “Date of birth?”

“02/04/03.”

“Do you happen to know your social security number?”

“No,” I shrug. What I don’t say is that I don’t have one, but he should figure that out soon enough.

“Last known address and please don’t say ‘sewage colony.’

“20 feet under Main Street Park?”

He snorts. “That was good, but I’m serious.”

I shrug. “I know it’s technically,” I raise my hands up to make air quotes, “‘illegal’, but I’ve been squatting mostly. But don’t worry, I try to tidy up, ‘leave the place nicer than I found it and all.” 

“It’s not ‘technically’ illegal, it is illegal,” Harvey points out. 

“It’s semantics.”

Harvey cocks his head, “Not sure you know what that means.”

“Hmm. Is that all your questions?” I ask. 

Harvey looks back down at his paper. “Yeah, but we’ll have to do some blood tests and see if you show up in any databases.”

I scrunch my nose. 

“Don’t worry kid,” Harvey consoles, “won’t hurt at all.” I roll my eyes. He says that every time. And he’s wrong every time. Not many things scare or make me uncomfortable, but needles sure do. “One more question,” Harvey says and I already know what it is, “parents’ names?” 

I draw my lips into a thin line. “As I said. Don’t have any.” I feel his gaze bear into me and we’re locked in some sort of stand-off. Thankfully, he doesn’t press on the subject.

“Alright then,” he concedes, “that’ll be all, but I’ll need you to come back later this afternoon.”

“Okay.” I nod. I grab my board and turn to leave. I change my mind and turn back around. “Harvey,” I start, “Do me a favor and cool it with the betting, or at least learn how to bluff. I’m sure The Mrs. will thank me.” I wink and close the door on his laughter. 

***

6 years ago-

“Having a rough day kid?” the pudgy man behind the counter asks. He is sitting behind a desk across the room and half-hidden behind a computer. 

How could you tell? I want to snap but I can’t seem to find the energy. I bring my sleeve up to my nose, drawing out snot. The response “I’m just peachy” escapes my lips as a quiver but the man doesn’t press me. He just smiles around the eyes and gives off a belly laugh. The man sounds like he must be from the Boston area. “You have a funny accent,” I want to say. But I don’t because I don’t feel like getting told I’m rude yet again today. 

“Now, I’m actually new here, so I may not be qualified to do this… but you look like you could use it. Do you wanna hear a joke?” He asks. 

I find myself smiling despite today's events. “No, thank you,” is my response nonetheless. He is engrossed in something on his computer and after a couple of minutes of silence, I can’t help asking, “What are you playing?” 

“Wha-” he starts to say but I cut him off. 

“I can see it in your glasses.” I’m too tired to come up with a half-felt apology for being crass to yet another adult today. 

“Why don’t you come over here and see?” he says. I hop down from my waiting chair, my muscles stiff, and hobble over to his stand. I look at his screen and my eyes light up. 

“Hey! That’s the one with the chips and all the betting right?” I ask. He laughs in an affirmative. “My dad plays…” I fall short. And the pain comes flooding back. My whole reason for being here comes flooding back. The aching feelings return to my bones. My dad doesn’t remember me. And nothing these people can say can change the fact that I still recognize and remember him. I feel sick, I want to sit back down. Better yet, I want to run away. 

“You okay, Kiddo?” the security man, Harvey, whose name I see clearly now that I’m closer to his name tag, asks. When I don’t reply he switches subjects. “Can I tell you a secret?” he asks. I can’t help raising my eyes to meet his own. “My wife won’t let me gamble anymore, so this is the only time I can get my fix,” he sputters out. “She even made me a home-cooked meal last night. Said she’s ‘so proud that I’m going cold-turkey.’” He laughs sheepishly, and I can tell from his red cheeks that he feels guilty for it. 

“We can’t all be perfect,” I say, echoing words my dad has said time and time again. 

“You know, you’re a wise kid for a- how old are you, 10?” I nod in agreement, unable to shake the feeling that I’m about to age many years very very soon.

***

I come back to the office around 3 p.m. The place is busy and buzzing with people. One guy almost pushes his cart right into me and I let out a jolt of alarm. He simply looks at me and keeps going. The guy works for child protection services- shouldn’t he at least feign care for them? I ask myself, irritated. I can’t help being touchy. The last few hours have not been very good for me. I went to the beach and some bird pooped on my skateboard while I was taking a nap. I had to spend time scraping up the pelican and then tolerating hoards of children passing and pointing at it in disgust. Maybe that makes me no better than Cart Guy? 

“Taliyah,” Harvey says in greeting and waves me to his desk. “You’ve made pretty good timing, I’ll let the worker we’ve assigned to you know that you’re here.”

I click my heels nervously. “Okay.” 

Unless they’ve hired since last summer, I’m pretty sure I can name all of the caseworkers and there’s only one that I fingers-crossed hope I don’t get assigned to. Maybe one and a half if you throw in Jenson’s crappy attitude. After a few minutes, I see her walking towards me, a thin and tan ray of sunshine. She’s dressed nicely as always. She wears a red pantsuit that brings out the red in her cheeks and the bright blonde of her hair. Seeing her, my insides turn over in my stomach. Of course, this is my luck. Then again, I haven’t had her assigned to me in 6 years, so I’m probably due to having her again. 

“Taliyah?” she asks when she’s reached me.  

Somehow, I manage a fairly strong “Yes.” 

“I’m Mindy,” she says and smiles a smile that lights up her whole face. She shakes out her hand to me. I give her mine in return and wonder if she can feel its clamminess or how the air has changed now that my heart is hammering outside of my body. 

“You can follow me to my office,” she gestures and turns. It’s all I can do not to trip over my feet as I follow her. 

Harvey must see my worry because I hear him say, “Don’t worry,” behind me. “She’s one of the best,” he reassures me. I curl my hands into fists. I know, Harvey, I know. 

***

I follow Mindy to her office and sit in the plushy pink chair across from her desk. Looking around, I see it’s changed a bit since my last time being in the room. It’s neat as always, but there are more pictures on her shelves and fewer toys for children to distract themselves with. She must’ve gotten a new title, I think to myself. 

Mindy scoots around to the other side of the desk and takes her seat. “Would you like anything to drink, or perhaps a mint?” She smiles at me, and it’s all I can do not crumble. I want to lunge across the table and shake her until she remembers me. But I know it won’t work. Maybe I can get it changed? I think to myself. Maybe I can get put on another case worker’s load? 

“I guess I should start by saying a little bit about myself,” Mindy begins. “I’ve been married for four years. We have two pugs, one named Pepper and one named Hazel, after one the rabbits in Watership Down, of course. We would’ve gotten a rabbit but my husband is seriously allergic...” And the rest is drowned out as I feel myself spiraling down in reprieve. 

***

“Tell me Taliyah, have you ever read the book Watership Down?” 6 years younger Mindy asks me.

I clutch my blue pearl necklace and shake my head no. I’m in tattered disarray and can hardly focus on the nice blonde lady through my tearstained eyes. Today has been unbelievably awful. The date on the calendar reads August 1st. 

“Well, Taliyah, it’s about a group of rabbits on a journey to find a home, a safe place where they don’t have to be afraid anymore.” She smiles at me encouragingly but I look down at the floor. “They go through lots of struggles, sure, but Hazel, the leader, makes sure that his colony makes it home.”

“Does he make it home?” I squeak out.

“What?” she responds, taken aback. It’s the first thing I’ve said to her and we’ve spent the last few hours together. 

“Hazel? Does he make it?”I repeat. 

“Yes, Dear, he makes it.” 

I don’t respond. I just swallow down the knot in my throat. Hazel may make it home, but I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to go home again. 

“Taliyah,” the lady starts again, and I wish she’d quit saying my name in such a soothing manner like I’m a hysterical child. But I am, aren’t I?

“Right now I’m asking you to trust me,” she continues. “What can you tell me about your family? We must keep you safe and get you to a safe place.” When I don’t acknowledge her, she reaches into her drawer and pulls out a worn copy of Watership Down. She then hands it to me like an unspoken promise that I’ll find relief just like those rabbits. 

Something inside of me unfurls and I cry, and I cry while Mindy holds me. But I don’t cry because I’m afraid that I’ll never feel safe or find home again. I cry because I know that after all that’s happened and all that will happen, I’ll never be whole again.

***

“Taliyah, are you with me?” I hear Mindy say. 

I rub my eyes. “Sorry, yeah. Headache.” I can tell she doesn’t buy it, but she doesn’t say anything. I shake out my shoulders and finger my blue pendant necklace. Deep breath, deep breath, I tell myself. 

Mindy continues, “Well, as I was saying, I haven’t worked with kids routinely since I was promoted to a position of overseeing our workers.” She pauses for a second, and I can hear her pride beam through the air. She deserves it, she really deserves it. She continues, “-but when I heard about you- a sixteen-year-old who waltzed in this morning and asked to be put in a home, I had to see for myself.”

Cue my nervous laughter. “Well,” I say frankly (and mostly because I don’t want to be in a room with this woman any longer), “you’ve seen.”

She chuckles, “And you're humorous, too”

I just sigh. Clearly, this is going to be harder than I thought. 

“I’ve got down that your name is, and I quote, ‘just Taliyah.’”

“Yep.”

“No last name?”

“Nope.”

“Not even a middle name?”

“Jean,” I say before I can stop myself. Nobody has asked for my middle name in a long time. 

“Ah, so T.J. then.” 

I shudder, thinking of my dad’s old nickname for me.

“And it’s written that you have no parents, correct?”

“Uh-huh.”

“May I ask what happened to them? Did they die or?” 

I raise my eyebrows. So that’s how it’s gonna be. No cushioning the blows at all. But I guess I was 10 when she last asked me these questions.

“I just don’t have any.”

“You mean you never met them?”

“I just don’t have them,” I say again, my face heating up.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Hon, but I’m not sure you know how childbirth works.”

I let out an exasperated sigh and resist the urge to throw my hands up into the air. It’s been 5 minutes, and I’m already losing my cool. “I just don’t have any,” I say for the third time.  

Her forehead vein bulges and she taps her fingers along the paper. “Very well then. Who have you been staying with?”

“Different people.”

“You’re going to have to give me more than that. I can’t just turn in a residence sheet marked with ‘people’ to my superior.”

I smile at her aggravation. “I thought you were the superior,” I snort out. 

The look she gives me isn’t a friendly one, but as far as I’m concerned, distance is good. Yet, it makes my heart ache nonetheless. 

“I’m hoping you’ll be willing to tell me your story,” she says. 

I sigh. “I’ve pretty much been on my own for years, staying with people and at churches here and there- and no, before you ask, I don’t know their last names or addresses off the top of my head.” 

Mindy scribbles something down- probably along the lines of, ‘the girl is uncooperative and seems to be masking the truth behind sarcasm, jokes, and embellishments.’ I don’t know what else to do, it’s not my fault that no one would believe the truth if I told it to them. 

“Is there anything else you can give me, Taliyah?” Mindy asks. 

I think about it for a second before replying with the only reason I even turned myself in: “I was sort of homeschooled for a bit, I read different textbooks and practiced math and grammar. I should test out to be a junior when school starts. If I’m being honest, it’s really important to me that I finish my learning...” 

Mindy raises her eyes to meet mine and opens her mouth to say something. 

“Mrs. Sawyer?” a beady-eyed man opens the door and pokes his head in. 

Mindy diverts her attention from me and to the intruder. “Jefferson, remember what I told you about interruptions.”

The man, Jefferson, is all skin and bones with a ghostly face and dark features that offset his skin. He looks sick to his stomach and starts speaking quickly, “Right… you don’t like them. But you also said to get you when the doctor gets here.” He holds up his hands in surrender, “And well, she’s here.” Beady-eyed Jefferson closes the door hastily, and Mindy turns towards me with a sly grin on her face. 

“I do love scaring the newbies before they figure out I’m such a softie,” she winks. “Follow me Miss Taliyah, I believe I’ve asked enough questions for now.”

I grab my things and follow her out of the room. 

***

After numerous tests and some more prodding questions, I clutch my throbbing arm and sit in the waiting room. My backpack and skateboard are propped against the chair

“You know, it might help if you get the blood pumping again,” Harvey says from his perch across the room. “You know, moving it and such.” He waves his arms around crazily like the flailing purple men in front of car dealerships and I can't help giggling. I copy his movements, and at that very moment, the cranky doctor who conducted most of my tests decides to appear. All of her features are stern and her white coat is absolutely pristine. 

She narrows her thick eyebrows. “That can’t be good for your arm,” she says matter-of-factly. Harvey shoots me an apologetic look and then diverts his attention back to his computer. I look at the doctor and scowl without even bothering to hide my disdain for her. 

“Results are still pending, but it would be helpful if you could give us any information about your upbringing, allergies that may be in early medical records, or times you had to go to the hospital, that kind of stuff. Anything that would help us find a positive ID on you.”

My mind flashes to both the time I broke my wrist in 2nd grade and to the time in middle school that I had to get stitches above my eye. “I can’t think of anything,” I reply solemnly. 

She scrunches her eyebrows together, “What about the hospital you were born in?”

“Yeah, sorry, Doc. I’m a little fuzzy on events from when I was zero.” 

Harvey snorts out loud, and I have to hide my smirk behind my hand. 

The doctor looks beyond irritated. “Nice kid you’ve got here,” she says to an approaching Mindy and I feel my body go stiff. I feel my mind going back to another time. 

***

About 6 years ago-

“Why don’t you stay with me?” Mindy asks me. 

My eyes widen. “Stay with you?” I repeat back to her. Mindy had been a ray of sunshine in the storm clouds swirling around me the past month and a half. She was the only one who listened to me instead of calling me ‘troubled’ or grilling me about my failure of parents or how I’ve been ‘harassing’ good families. Sure, I was making trouble on purpose, but she seems to be the only one who doesn’t hold it against me. Instead, she makes me laugh and she looks out for me. Maybe it would be nice to stay with someone I’ve grown to trust. Maybe I’ll even tell her about my past. A crazy thought emerges- maybe she’ll help me fix everything. 

She takes my hands in hers. “Yeah, Kiddo,” she says and smiles. “I already applied but it could be a while. In the meantime, you’ll have to stay with another family. But I promise I promise I’m going to try and do everything I can to work something out.” 

And there it was. A promise. Something so dangerous and yet so fragile. Every promise made to me in my life thus far has been broken. Yet I already know that I’m going to cling to this promise with every fiber in me. Mindy would take good care of me, Mindy would make things better, I knew it in my bones.

***

I shake myself out of reprieve. I’ve got to get that under control, I chastise myself. 

“Well, I’m sure she’s had quite the day, Norma,” Mindy replies, and the doctor stalks away. She must not like her ego getting bruised. “It’s nice to have someone here keeping her temperament in check,” Mindy winks at me. “It’s getting late. We’ve got a room here that you can stay in. There’s always a guard overnight so you don’t have to worry about anything happening.” 

I bring my free hand up to rub the back of my neck. “Oh. I actually already have a place to stay,” I reply. 

Mindy narrows her eyes at me. 

“It’s a church, the one on 4th street- St. Peter’s I believe. I’ve been staying there for a few days now. I’m afraid the nuns will be worried if I don’t show up,” I say breezily and hope that she buys it.  

She stares at me for a beat. “Very well then, I’m trusting that you’re being honest with me,” Mindy says. 

I give her a mock salute. “Scout’s honor,” I say earnestly. What I don’t say is that I was kicked out of my girl scout troop when I was only 8 for being disobedient. 

Mindy gives me a dry smile. “I do have good news though,” she begins, “I already have a family that is prepared to take you in!” 

I give a little half-smile in return. Another year, another family. 

Mindy softens, giving me another small smile, “You know, I understand that you don’t feel like talking much right now, but I hope you’ll come to trust me. I really am here to help.”

“I know,” I reply and it’s so tempting to just unload everything right here and right now to this woman who always listened. If I asked, she would make a pot of tea for the two of us just like old times and then proceed to tell me she’s going to make everything right. But there are some things that even she can’t fix. I learned that when I looked into her eyes and saw no recognition of me after having spent the last 12 months by her side. No, I think, I can’t let this go anywhere. I square my shoulders and say, “You self-righteous government workers always say that, but I’m just fine on my own.” 

She looks at me and in her eyes, I see a pool of emotion. I want to take back everything but I hold my ground. “Then why did you come here at all?” she asks and places a card into my hands. “Good night, Taliyah. Stay safe out there. I’ll see you in the morning.” She turns and heads back in the direction of her office. I stare at her personal phone number scribbled down, one I’ve had memorized for the last six years. I shove the card into my pocket and turn around, walking out on the building. I think Harvey waves at me, but I don’t return it. Once I’m outside, I place my board on the ground and take off, riding until the insufferable feeling of numbness takes over.