Everything I Need

 by Ruth Drake

I remembered that terrible August Wednesday. Father was sick. Extremely sick. I woke up to the smell of bread and burnt sugar and could tell immediately that something was wrong. 

And I was right.

As soon as I saw mother, Mary said, “I want to take Father some food.”

Mother was crying and I didn’t notice. “Your Father passed in his sleep.”

Now, a year later, we were becoming poor. Mother had no job, and supporting the four of us, she needed a lot of money. (Which she didn’t have) I was beginning to wonder where our next meal would come from.

“Peter! I need to speak with you all.” Mother shouted from the two bedrooms that she had divided with a red satin curtain. Her voice sounded wet. Like she had been crying.

I walked into the bedroom. I could tell this was serious. “Yes, Mother?”

“Please get your sisters,” she whispered. I called for Anna and Mary and walked around our log cabin, looking for Lizzy. I found her crying in the cellar.

“Peter? Is that you? I can’t get out. Would you help me please?” She was so polite and sweet. I admired her. The little nine-year-old girl, well, she was brave. She went through more difficulties than me. You see, Elizabeth Evans was blind. The fever that had killed our Father had settled in her eyes and blinded her a year ago. She was eight.

I lifted her out of the cellar and carried her into the bedroom. Anna and Mary were already there. So was Mother. Mother was crying.

“Anna, whatever is the matter?” Asked Elizabeth, whom I call Lizzy.

“I’m not crying. Mother is, but I don’t know why.”

I asked her. She cried even harder.

“I-I need-need to give two-o of you-o aw-ay,” She choked out between her sobs.

“Mother, which two?” I asked. I tried not to show my tears by turning away and staring unnaturally at the red satin curtain that was once used for windows.

“E-elizabeth,” She sobbed, “An-d P-peter.”

Lizzy pulled in a sharp gasp. I turned around. She was making crying noises, and her hands were covering her already unseeing eyes. I saw a tear slip through her soft hand.

The sight made me cry too.

“Why not me? Or Anna?” Asked Mary, “Why them?”

“Elizabeth is blind. She needs extra help that I can’t provide, and Peter has the closest relationship with her.” Replied Mother. “And I cannot take care of you all.”

I didn’t realize it, but Anna had been crying too.

“Go to the church in the third closest town – Tekena Road – and wait. Someone should take you in soon,” Anna said, and hugged us both before I picked up Lizzy and left.

We walked out the door and started off to the church. She clung to my neck and shivered; it was very cold. “Lizzy, I need you to walk.” My teeth chattered and I set the little girl down and grasped her hand.

“Peter?”

“What, Lizz?” I smiled even though I wanted to cry.

“What if no one adopts me?”

I squeezed her hand. “Lizzy, someone will want to you, I know it. You are the sweetest little girl I know.” That was true, she was.

Within about two hours, we had reached a town. Lizzy was in my arms again and her eyes were closed. She was shaking and shivering so violently that I thought she would fall out of my freezing arms. I saw a man with a wagon and horse and considered asking for a ride; we still had a way to go but decided not to. That was when he glanced at us and walked over.

“Need a ride?” he asked, smiling, “Where’re you off to on such a mighty cold afternoon?”

I was a bit hesitant but seeing behind him two kind younger boys I knew from the school I went before Father died cling to him, I knew in my heart I could trust him. “Thank you, kind sir. I—”

He cut me off, smiling. “It’s alright. It’s completely understandable if you don’t want one.”

That kind of threw me off, so I ended up saying, “I think I’ll pass.”

It took over an entire day and night to reach the church by foot, and we had to huddle under a tree for protection while we slept, even though it seemed warmer at night. Once we were there, I stepped up the white stairs and opened the door. 

It creaked. There was no one inside. It was very dark, so I wasn’t quite sure where I was going. I took slow steps, and suddenly, I felt something hard.

With my toes.

I jolted forward, and Lizzy slipped from my arms. I gasped. Then, I propped my elbows out to save me from the fall. I didn’t fall, but my head bumped onto something hard—wooden, probably. The pew. Or the pew’s corner. “Ow!” I whispered, and rested my head on my shoulder

“Are you okay?” Lizz asked. I was afraid to answer.

“Yes,” I lied. I raised my hand and set it onto my head. My head throbbed. It would probably swell. But that wasn’t on my mind for the moment. I sighed. My eyes were adjusting to the dark, but that didn’t help much.

It was midnight. I felt around for Lizzy and found her lying on the floor, asleep. I laughed. I was tired, almost too tired to be thinking about our future parents. I did anyways though. What if they’re mean? What if they’re old? What if they spoil us—or work us to death?

Those were the best questions that ran through my head. The worst one was: What if we get separated?

That was my last thought before I lay down next to Lizzy and fell asleep on the cold floor.

***

I woke to bright sun and the sound of laughing—A beautiful, kind laugh. I looked up and saw a pretty blond-haired blue-eyed woman and a man—Supposedly her husband—Whispering and laughing sweetly—At us. It was morning and Lizzy was awake too.

“Peter, who’s here?” She sounded sleepy, but she sat up straight. Her eyes were glazed over. I forgot she was blind. Last night I had a dream Lizzy could see. I saw that wasn’t so.

“Uh . .  . a couple. Maybe looking to adopt us.” That was the best way I could think of to answer my sweet sister. Not ‘A man and woman here to take you,’ Or ‘An evil orphanage headmaster and his wife, the evil headmistress.’ That was too cruel.

“Really!?” She gasped and grinned.

“Uh . .  . yes.”

“We’ll take her in,” Said the woman, and she pointed to Lizzy. She was smiling.

“Me?” Asked Lizz, very timidly.

“Yes, you.”

“But what about my brother?” Lizzy sounded terrified.

“He’ll have to stay. Someone else might want to adopt him.”

I gasped. It was true. I was going to be separated. We were going to be separated. My worst nightmare.

“Come now, let’s see your new home!” The woman was kind, but I saw her as evil. She was taking Lizzy.

“She’s blind,” I said, trying to find a way out for her. Maybe they couldn’t support a blind girl?

“She’ll do,” A gruff voice responded. He (Her husband) grasped Lizzy’s wrist and dragged her out of the church.

I wanted to yell and scream: “Hey! That’s my sister!” But Mother had taught me much better manners, so I didn’t. Instead, I ran as fast as I could out of the church and followed Lizzy.

I saw she was with the man. She wasn’t struggling. She looked like an angel. Beaming and radiant with light. Did she want to be separated? Why?

I sulked to the church, crying. I had only cried three times before in my life. Once when Father died, once when Lizzy cried, and then there was now. Why would she want that—for us?

Later that day, I felt hungrier than I had ever felt. It was a horrible, gnawing feeling, and it felt even worse knowing I wouldn’t have something to eat for at least a day. I went outside to find some scraps of food—anywhere, really.

Then I saw it. It was a horrible thing, pictures and all.

It actually wasn’t very horrible, but what it meant. A man walked past, trailing behind him a bulldog. I saw the man’s eyes scan what I was reading.

Wanted: Someone to adopt a blind nine-year-old girl. The widowed mother is not able to support her. Inquire of Mrs. Husk, no. 275 Corner St. Church to apply.

Then there was another. For me.

Who can adopt a young boy? A thirteen-year-old boy needs to be adopted. He is kind and will work hard. His mother was left widowed and can no longer support him. Inquire of Mrs. Husk, No. 275 Corner St. Church to apply.

Now I have cried four times.

I fell asleep in the pew that night, and woke to nothing but cheerful, singing birds. I sighed. No Lizzy to laugh with. Suddenly I heard the door creak. “Ma, can we pwease adopt a sissy for me? Pwease?” It was the voice of a young girl, maybe about two or three.

Then an older voice: “You already have one,” She laughed. She sounded about ten. Almost Lizzy’s age.

“Wes, but I want anover one pwease.”

Their Ma laughed. “I love you, Mary.” 

Mary. My older sister’s name. Mary.

“Where’s the wittle girl?” Asked Mary.

“Hello,” I said. I knew I sounded shy, but that was because I was. I wanted to be adopted, even if I was still grieving over Lizzy.

“Oh, hello. We’re looking for a little girl  . . . she was supposed to be here,” said their ma.

“She was adopted. I’m sorry.”

“Do you know her?” asked the older sister. “I’m Cathy, by the way.”

“Yes, yes I do. She was my little sister,” I said. I guess I sounded sad, because their Ma gave me a sympathetic face.

“What is your name?”

“Peter. The boy in the other ad.” It sounded horrible to say it: The boy in the other ad.

“Ah, I thought I recognized you from somewhere,” replied the ma. “And you can call me Karen. May I sit down?”

I said yes, and Mary, Karen, and Cathy all sat down next to me. We talked about a lot of things, like losing Father and Lizzy. We talked about our interests and hobbies. I didn’t realize it was five o’clock when we stopped talking.

“Can Peter come for dinner?” Asked Cathy. “Please?”

“Yes, he can,” smiled Karen.

“Hooray!” shouted the sisters, and I smiled.

“Thank you all. Thank you. How can I ever say thank you enough?” I beamed at Karen and she told me,

“You don’t have to.”

After asking Mrs. Husk, (whom I never knew was there) we drove in a wagon with two beautiful black horses which I learned are named Berry and Black. I sat in the back. We came to a pretty red house with blue gingham curtains and white trim, complete with a brown wooden door. “You live here?” I asked in awe.

“Yes,” Answered Cathy, grinning. “Do you?”

I said no, of course, and I got the joke, because I couldn’t live there if someone already did and . .  . well, Father used to say if you had to explain a joke, it wasn’t funny.

When I came inside, all I could do was stare. And stare and stare and stare. There were white tapestries and red  rugs and blue throw pillows—Even a parlor!

“Hello,” said a deep voice. “I see you are Peter.”

“Yes, I am.” I turned and saw a man with broad shoulders and a big grin. I could tell they were wealthy—at least compared to my family. Old family.

I ate a delicious dinner. There were mashed potatoes and pasta and everything. I felt warm afterwards, and also a bit guilty. I couldn’t treat them to dinner. I couldn’t do much at all! And yet they made a delicious dinner.

For me. Yet I couldn’t do anything back for them—Argh!!

I was about to go out the door. Suddenly I did not feel welcome. I felt the opposite. Un-welcome.

“Wait. Stay here for a moment. We need to talk,” Karen said.

I turned, unsure of whether she was talking to me or not. She was. Karen turned to her husband. She said something and he nodded. He said something and she nodded. They smiled, then turned to me. “Peter, would you like to live here?” asked Karen.

I gasped and looked at the whole family in surprise. They were grinning and nodding vigorously.

This was all so quick! Did they just decide? Then I remembered sitting in the back of the wagon and hearing muffled voices. I laughed and thought. Remembering Lizzy. She wanted to go. To leave me. I could still find her . . . but a family that was always together would never understand. I couldn’t leave!

Then Cathy grabbed my hand and pulled me into a room—her bedroom? Yes, it had purple all over. Violet. Liz’s favorite color. “I know you’re hurting. I know how you feel. We can help get your sister back, just please live with us!” I laughed; she was so sweet.

What would I do? “I . . . I think . . .,” I whispered, holding back tears. Tears of joy and sadness. Joy because this family cared for me and I might be able to live with them. Sadness because this ruined the chance of being adopted by Lizzy’s new parents. Then they came, huge, sobbing tears. I hugged her.

Cathy smiled kindly and wiped away a tear from my cheek. I smiled too. Because she truly was like Lizzy. She was like my sister.

Then everyone flooded into the violet room, and I shook. Now they’re all here. I tried to stand up from the bed, but Karen stopped me. “It’s okay if you say no,” she told me. “It’s fine. I care about your thoughts.”

Then Mary: “Wes. But I will be VERY angwy if you say no. Too angwy. So you HAVE to say wes.” I grinned and wiped another tear, laughing. “I will NOT wike if you say no. So say wes, Peta.”

“Okay. But . . . can we try it for a week? And you can help find my sister?” I sputtered.

Looking around, Karen was wiping a tear from her eye, Cathy was jumping up and down, shouting “Yes! Yes! Hooray!” Mary was hugging me so hard I couldn’t breathe, and her father beaming and hugging his wife, Karen.

“Of course we will, Peter,”  said Karen, still laughing and crying. She reached out and put her arm around me.

“Thank you.” I felt warm knowing that people cared about me other than Lizz for now.

“Well, let’s go find Lizzy!” Said Karen.

We looked everywhere—and didn’t find her.

“Well, the only house left in the town is my brother William’s,” Karen shrugged, “I guess there’s a chance . . .”

I suddenly remembered Lizzy’s departure. I realized she was radiant because she was being adopted. Did she think we were going to be able to see each other again? Would we?

I knocked on the door. We asked if they had any kids. We came out discouraged and sad.

“Are there any other towns here? In this state?” Asked Cathy.

“Yes, but not close ones,” My Father glanced at Mother. A knowing look.

***

A week later, I had decided to stay. They were being so kind, like I was their son already. “I . . . I’ll stay.” Grinning, I embraced my new family. But then I remembered. “Wait! Mrs. Husk doesn’t know that I have a home!”

Mary smiled, “Wes, she does. We tolded her we would adopt you maybe wes.” I laughed at her grammar. But kindly.

“Alright,” I replied, a little bit sadder than needed, but still discouraged from the search we had a week ago.

“It’s okay,” Cathy read my mind.

Is it?

I replied to Cathy: “Thank you.”

“Maybe she’s still at the church?” Cathy looked at me hopefully as if she thought I had the answer.

***

The next day we went to church, it was Sunday. I noticed my ad was down, but Lizzy’s wasn’t. Could it be? No . .  . it couldn’t. I saw her at church. People were looking at her.

“LIZZY!” I screamed, waved my hand and ran over. I blushed because it was church, but she was my sister! My lost and found sister! I came closer and saw she was covered in scratches and was very skinny. I wouldn’t tell her.

My new parents came over and saw. “This is Lizzy?” Mother grimaced. I wasn’t sure if she didn’t like Lizz right now. Or she didn’t want to adopt her.

“Yes!” I tried to be enthusiastic.

“Let’s adopt her as well!” Father beamed.

I cried with joy. “Lizz, you’re coming home!” I hugged her. She hugged back, even if she missed me by three inches; she was still blind.

“Peter! They did not want me. I love you . . .” She drifted off. She fell asleep in my arms. We had a lot to talk about at home. All I cared about as that I had a home and three sisters. Three. Back to where I started.

Even if I still missed Mary, Anna, Mother and Father, and I will never forget them, I was almost home. Almost the same. I had what I needed, and that was this:

             One Mother. One Father. Three sisters. A home. Tasty food.                                              And a whole lot of love.