As you know the Orphan is a new release. I'm really proud of this story! I think many of us can identify with Adin and Sunflower, how lost they feel, but knowing there is hope also makes all the difference. Anyway, before I expound on the emotional aspects, let me share with you Chapter 1. I have already posted the Prologue HERE, so maybe pop in there to read it first before reading on here ...
An orphaned boy searches for a lost girl.
A woman abandons her new-born at a motel in the back of
beyond. Adin grows up unloved, bullied, and no one remembers him. He doesn’t
exist.
Until he sees a poster for a missing girl on a lamppost.
There is an instant connection to little Sunflower, kidnapped for ransom, only
to disappear after the money is paid. He exists because he must find her.
Alone, he searches, a journey that takes him into the wild places, meeting
along the way some interesting characters.
In dreams he speaks to her, for she is the one who will
remember him.
Chapter 1
To be abandoned, means you are either lost or found.
ADIN
Her lips were salty and wet when
she kissed him on each eyelid and whispered, “Your name is Adin. I love you. Be
strong now, my beautiful boy.”
HIS HUNGRY WAILS eventually
drew the attention of the spotty-faced teenager manning the reception desk
inside the gloomy office of the motel tucked away in a fold between nowhere and
everywhere.
The kid pounded on the door of
number 5 and when no one answered his summons, he used his key to unlock the barrier.
An instant later he bailed out, shouting for his mother.
“Ma! Come!”
“What you making such a ruckus
for?”
Macy Black had long ago given up
expecting anything good to come her way and had surrendered to the
inevitability of making ends meet in a backwater place. It showed in her tired
hazel eyes, her sagging chin, the lines of bitter times that marked her face.
She moved slowly across from the
office, having sneaked a quick drink when Jason went knocking at number 5, to
stand arms akimbo in the paved courtyard that fronted the row of rooms.
‘Courtyard’ was a fancy term she
insisted on for the brochure, while ‘paved’ was an outright lie. Flat stones
almost choked in weeds did duty as paving, but was nowhere near uniform or even
level.
There were eight rooms, each with
a bed and bath, kitchenette and ancient TV, and not much else. Her livelihood.
Macy was owner and housekeeper. As
owner, she couldn’t afford the pretty stuff the brochure sold, but that
brochure was over ten years old, from the time her husband was still around. He
got a deal on a print run of thousands, so why change anything? It brought guests
on occasion and when they arrived, they were already so far from civilisation
that they accepted what they actually found.
At least the surroundings were
magnificent. Rocky hills led to mighty mountains and rivers ran through all.
Huge trees played host to varied feathered populations. Most guests were so
impressed with the environment they chose to overlook their accommodations.
As housekeeper, Macy was
lacklustre. A sweep and a dust after guests vacated, and once a month, if she
remembered, she washed the threadbare bedding.
“Why’s the kid screaming?” she
demanded. “Where’s the girl?”
Slapping a hand over her mouth,
her eyes rounded as she glanced around the courtyard. The young woman’s car was
gone, an old sedan that barely made it up the rutted driveway. She signed in
without writing out her full name, paid for a week in advance and vanished,
heavily pregnant, into number 5. And now there was no car, but there was a
screaming baby.
“Ma, what? Do I call the cops or
something?”
Macy glared at her son. Jason was
thick as pig shit, but then, he took after his dad, the lying sack of horse
dung.
“Don’t be stupid, Jase, no need
for the cops.” They’d want to know stuff she couldn’t answer to. “Out of my
way.”
She shouldered Jason aside and
entered number 5, nearly gagging at the sight inside. Blood on the patchy grey
carpet, a giant wet spot on the tossed bed. The little bitch had given birth
right here. The kid screamed between two flat pillows.
Sighing, she picked the infant up
and retreated to the courtyard. “Lock it up, I’ll clean it later. Don’t rent it
out, hear?”
Jason snorted. “As if someone’s
coming.”
“Well, she did, out of the blue! Heed me, boy!”
Rolling his eyes, Jason dragged
the door closed and locked it, watching his mother stride in her wobbly manner back
to their gloomy office.
MACY DISCOVERED A
note tucked into the swaddling blanket about an hour later when she unwrapped
the kid after he wet himself and her.
A cute kid, but what was she to
do with him? Already he drove her insane with his incessant screaming. Jason
shouted from the desk to “Feed the kid!” as if she didn’t know that. At least
now she knew it was a boy, him having wet her right through. His horror of a
mother – who just ups and leaves a child? – called him Adin.
That’s what the note said. “Please, his name is Adin, please take care
of him.”
Well, fancy name. The bitch had
delusions of grandeur.
She, Macy, despite the bitterness
of her life, never left her kid behind. Probably didn’t do so right by him, but
she stuck by him after his worthless father disappeared in the middle of the
night, leaving her to run the motel she inherited from her grandmother all by
herself.
What could she do, truth be told?
At least she and Jason had a roof over their heads and occasional guests
brought in a few dollars for basics. Not much for schooling and stuff, so her
kid never went to school, but he was not bright anyway, so it didn’t matter, did
it? Not much for anything else either, not even booze, although she pinched a
bit here, a little there, and then hoarded the bottle. Certainly not enough to
buy baby formula for a new-born that would drink the milk without a care and
dump her and Jason straight into greater poverty.
“Crank the van, Jase!” she called
out from the room behind the reception desk where she spent most of her days
watching daytime TV. “We’re taking him to the church!”
ROLLING HIS EYES
again and shoving unkempt brown hair from his thin face, Jason grabbed the keys
from under the desk and went to the garage where his father’s ancient van hid
from prying eyes.
Mother said its tinted windows
meant it was once used for criminal activities, so they only drove it when
needs must. He bloody hoped it would start. Did he disconnect the battery after
last time? That was two months ago. Usually, his mother called for a delivery
to the end of the driveway, and he then had to cycle down to fetch it. His dad
took the pickup when he disappeared; pity, it would handle the ruts better than
this bouncy thing. Difficult to see where one was going and his mother was a
terrible driver.
It started on the third try and
he reversed hell for high water out of the mildewed space, swerved in a screech
of worn tyres to an abrupt halt at the office door.
“You drive,” his mother
commanded, holding the baby close.
Yeah, at least she took care of
people. Say what you will about Macy Black, but she harmed no one. Right now,
she took care of the babe, and so he got to drive.
Jason grinned, showing uneven
teeth. Finally! If she let him drive now and he proved he could do it better
than her, his cycling days were over. She had let him practice in the courtyard
and on the dusty paths behind the motel every time they used the van, telling
him his day to sit behind the wheel would come when her old legs could no
longer pump the pedals, so he better learn. Well, that day was today.
She could still pump pedals, but Macy
Black harmed no one; she kept the baby safe. The screaming kid messed with his
concentration, though. He wished he would shut up. Abandoned kids had no right
to voice. They were worthless, should be forgotten, silent.
The kid gurgled and shut up.
As if he heard Jason’s thoughts.
Both he and his mother stared at
the bundle of cloth.
“Is he okay?”
Macy touched the kid’s forehead.
“Alive,” she muttered, “but not for long. Drive, Jase, fast but careful, hear?”
He threw the van into gear and
pressed the pedal. The van shot forward, but neither his mother nor the kid
made a sound.
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