Chapter 1: The Orphan

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

 HE SCREAMED HIS way into the world as most new-borns do, with lusty lungs, heaving chest and flailing limbs. He would not remember, and no one would ever know to tell him, but his mother wept over him as she swaddled him in worn flannel to warm and calm him.

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.

THE ORPHAN

Audio book coming soon!