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“Your father is a bad man, Dorothy.”
”I know.”
”…You do?”
”I don’t like my daddy.”
The people who worked at the orphanage weren’t good people. Well, being lazy didn’t make you a bad person, per se, but you’d think they’d watch the children more closely.
Dorothy had seen her fair share of orphanages. Some of them were really nice, some made her wonder how they stayed in business. She wanted to go back to one of the really nice ones, but really nice places didn’t want Dorothy back.
‘If only, if only’- was what the kid on the top bunk liked to say. Dorothy liked listening to him (she was pretty sure he was a him) whisper about poetry and stories he’d read in the limited amount of books in the building. If only indeed, top bunk boy. But fortune favored the bold and they were not bold.
Dorothy liked to think of herself as bold, when she spat curses at the workers who liked to treat the kids as lesser-than. But when she was locked in timeout afterwards she didn’t feel very bold. Or brave. Courageous. Any do the synonyms.
But it wasn’t all bad. Besides top bunk boy, some of the workers were nice. Some of them felt as helpless as Dorothy; like they were locked in invisible timeout rooms. The other kids were a bit of a gamble, but Dorothy didn’t really blame the mean ones.
Someone had to make them mean in the first place.
One morning, Dorothy was playing UNO with two other kids her age when she saw one of the others come out of the ‘interview hall’. Her name was Katie; Dorothy knew because she was young and still taking cursive lessons; writing it over and over again while the older kids were taking their turns in the showers. In any case, Katie was smiling.
Behind her came a couple. A man and a woman, beaming even brighter than the little girl. Dorothy smiled and gave a little wave, because she really did feel happy for Katie, but… no one really wanted to adopt an older kid. Dorothy had turned fourteen three weeks ago, with a stale cupcake, a pat on the shoulder, and a half-hearted “Smile for the camera.” Because really, who would adopt a kid her age who had already gotten tossed through the foster system like a ping pong machine, even with a heavily edited picture and a birthday hat that was practically begging for pity.
It was useless. It was useless and it made Dorothy want to ask how Katie could feel that happy, when she’d only had to take one birthday picture for someone to decide she was worth it?
But that would get written on Dorothy’s record, and in the end it wouldn’t do anything except make Katie cry, and then she’d feel guilty and that little girl would leave on a bad note. No need to make her memories of the place even shittier than they already were.
Dorothy glanced at top bunk boy, and saw him staring at the couple with an expressionless gaze. But she’d seen enough faces (not that she was veteran of reading emotions) to recognize some kind of longing. Kids were easier to read than grown ups, both because of camaraderie and because grown ups were so complicated and so simple at the same time. You could either read them clear as day or be tricked into thinking you were safe, and then-
Don’t think about him.
-and you never really knew why an adult was looking at you with sadness. They could be thinking ‘oh you poor result of a lack of care of a vulnerable minority, I wish I could help you’ or ‘oh you poor, angry, misbehaving little creature, I feel bad for the workers who HAVE to take care of your ungrateful ass’.
So although Dorothy knew that, logically, good grown ups existed, relying on a grown up being a good one was unreliable at best and deadly at worst.
What if Katie’s pair were bad grown ups who were good at looking good?
“Hey, Katie! Good luck in your new home.” Dorothy hopped up to her feet with a smile, approaching the other girl with an easy stride. Katie looked up, surprised, before smiling.
”Thanks Dorothy! I’m gonna miss you and-“ Her voice cut off as she saw the seriousness wash over Dorothy’s eyes. The older girl placed a hand on Katie’s shoulder and leaned in, her smile suddenly tense.
”Make sure they treat you good, alright? You come find me if they aren’t.”
Katie stuttered for a bit, before Dorothy pulled her into a hug, most of the tenseness leaving her eyes, before Katie’s new mom walked over to lead her new daughter to their car.
Dorothy let go, despite the (admittedly) irrational anger she felt upon seeing that woman lead Katie away to a fate that she knew could turn out horrible.
Good places didn’t like Dorothy.
But hopefully they liked Katie.