Two
I ’ m allowed to eat breakfast in the dining hall with everyone else today, and I know that means we’ll be lined up and paraded around in hopes of being adopted.
It’s always the same; optimistic parents enter through the doors in hopes of finding their perfect child. It goes without saying that I am no one’s first, second, or even last choice. I’m overlooked because I’m too much work.
No one wants to adopt a scrawny child with eyes too big for her freckled face. The other children wear their best clothes and comb their hair, while I’m in dresses two sizes too big and shoes with worn-down soles.
The bruises and cuts I constantly sport make me look like a troublemaker. If only they knew how I obtained them. But no one seems to care. The sisters stopped listening a long time ago as they knew my mother and didn’t want anything to do with me, afraid my wickedness would rub off on them somehow.
I am alone.
I’m eating my watery porridge, keeping my head down. But it doesn’t matter. It seems trouble always follows me.
“Who let you out of your cage?” Hugo laughs as he sits across from me.
I clench the spoon in my hand but don’t react.
“Deaf and stupid. No wonder your mom abandoned you. I heard she’s had ten children. They all live happily with her in a mansion by the beach. You’re the only one she didn’t want because you’re a reject.”
The spoon rattles against the bowl as I try to contain my temper.
“Are you going to cry?” he mocks, and when I continue to ignore him, he flips my bowl, spilling porridge all down the front of my dress.
The room erupts into laughter.
My cheeks heat under my long hair, which shields my face. I wish I was brave like the boy I saw last night. He wouldn’t sit here with spilled breakfast down his clothes. He would fight back.
So for the first time in my life, I slowly lift my chin and lock eyes with Hugo.
He gasps, as I think it’s the first time he’s ever seen my blue eyes, eyes which Father Merry calls eyes of the devil as they’re identical to my mother’s. And right now, I use that wickedness to ram the spoon I’m holding into Hugo’s eye.
I don’t even think twice about the repercussions. It comes naturally. I like it.
He does not like it, as I can imagine a spoon being impaled into one’s eyeball would be quite painful. He grows silent before the reality of what I’ve done sinks in, and a pained howl echoes off the walls.
He leaps from the seat, the spoon embedded into his eyeball.
I can’t help but laugh.
“Daddy’s girl,” a voice randomly says in my head. It scares me because I’ve not heard it before. But it sounds familiar. I just don’t know why.
He tries to pull it out but screams in pain and, instead, blindly flails around the room. The kids shrink away as he begs for help. They don’t want to get involved. I simply sit back and smile at the chaos I’ve created.
Suddenly, the same feelings as last night overwhelm me. I look across the table and see the boy who’s never left my mind since I first saw him. He coolly takes the same seat Hugo was sitting in before he had a spoon wedged into his eyeball.
He doesn’t say a word.
And neither do I.
We’re both calm in the chaos.
I examine him closely because I feel a connection to him that I can’t explain. His eyes are the strangest color—a mixture of blue and gray, reminding me of the bluest skies before the storm clouds roll in, the chaos replacing the calm. His brown hair is longer on top with shorter sides. He’s older than me. I would guess eleven or twelve. But he seems more mature than his years.
I wonder how long he’s been here.
He’s wearing a black T-shirt with holes that it seems he ripped in the material. I see he has a gold necklace around his neck. The pendant is round and looks to be a compass. I wonder what it means. He has on torn black jeans and scuffed boots with the laces untied.
He smiles, and I like it. So I smile back. It feels strange. I’m not used to smiling. So I hope I don’t scare him away.
He leans across the table and steals someone’s porridge mid-bite. They dare not object because they don’t fancy joining Hugo.
“Eat,” he orders, sliding the bowl toward me. Who knew that word would be the first one spoken.
He offers me a spoon, and when the doors burst open, and three sisters come running into the room to see what the noise is about, he nods in a gesture that I can trust him.
I don’t know why, but I do.
I accept the spoon, but when he stands, I don’t understand why. That is, until he walks over to Hugo and punches him in the ribs.
My hands fly up to my mouth. What is he doing?
The sisters scream for help, but the boy raises his hands in surrender.
Father Merry comes charging into the room, and when he sees the boy, he shakes his head in anger. “You’re nothing but trouble, Lennon!”
And the boy has a name—Lennon.
“You’ve been here for less than a month, and you’re getting into fights already. You’re going to be punished for this! You’re going to see Saint Maria’s doesn’t tolerate hoodlums, and you’re nothing but a little punk!”
He grabs him by the arm and drags him from the room. But I can’t stand by and let him take the blame for something he didn’t do.
I jump up, ready to tell Father Merry I was the one who hurt Hugo, but Lennon places a finger over his lips. Why is he taking the blame? I don’t understand.
“It was—” I don’t get a chance to finish because Lennon turns around and headbutts Father Merry in the nose. Blood instantly pours down his face.
It’s utter bedlam, and when Lennon is dragged from the room with a grin on his face, I know he just saved me.
But why?
I’m mopping the long hallway as Sister Siobhan ordered when she saw the state I was in. “No one will want to adopt you,” she said in disgust. “You look a fright. For penance, you can mop the halls because cleanliness is next to godliness.”
And it’s here I’ve been all day, mopping while the other kids have a chance at a new life.
My hands are sore because of the blisters on them. But I persevere because I’m hoping I’ll cross paths with Lennon. I need to ask him why he took the blame for me. I knew the consequences that came with my actions, but he didn’t think twice as he saved me from being punished for my sins.
Father Merry suddenly appears, and I lower my face, my bravado gone into hiding. “You’ve done a good job,” he says, reaching out and lifting my chin so he can look into my eyes.
Is he searching for the truth?
“For your efforts, you’ll be rewarded.”
I gulp as there is no such thing when Father Merry is involved.
“I will come get you this evening. I’m expecting guests. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I don’t say a word.
“You’re as stubborn as your mother was. But look where that got her. Don’t make the same mistakes she did.”
He grips my chin so hard, my lips purse, and when he licks his, I want to punch him in the face. I know what he’s thinking, and although I’ve not been taught about such matters, I know this is wrong.
When Father Merry hears footsteps approaching, he quickly releases me. “Did you give penance, Lennon?”
I suddenly feel braver with Lennon close by.
“I’m all penanced out,” he replies, not bothering to mask his sarcasm.
Father Merry’s lips pull into a thin line, but he doesn’t respond.
He cups my cheek, nodding in a promise that he will see me tonight, then he leaves.
I grip the wooden handle of the mop, my body trembling in anger. I want to choke him with my bare hands. The cross above the hallway mocks me because there is no God. Or if there is, he doesn’t believe in me.
“Why did you do that?” I ask, my back turned to Lennon.
“Because they both deserved it.”
“No,” I say, turning around to face him. But what I see has me gasping. “Wh-what happened to your face?”
“I slipped,” he counters with a cocky grin.
But I know he too is the victim of Father Merry’s cruelty.
He has a blackening eye, and his lip is split open.
“Why did you take the blame?” I whisper, chewing my bottom lip.
He reaches out and gently releases my lip with his thumb. “Because it was the right thing to do.”
I blink once, unsure what that means.
“What’s your name?”
“My name?” I ask, confused.
“You have a name, don’t you?”
I nod, but I explain my cause for concern. “No one has asked me before.”
“Well, their loss,” Lennon says, folding his arms across his chest. “So what’s your name?”
“It’s Valentina,” I reply, my voice small.
He mulls over my strange name but smiles.
“What’s your name?”
“Lennon Shepherd, but you can call me Lenny. What happened?” he asks, gesturing with his chin toward my many cuts and bruises.
Instantly, I feel my cheeks redden because, to someone like Lenny, I’m nothing but a weak coward.
“What you did today took guts,” he says as if reading my thoughts. “Don’t ever forget it.”
I want to ask him so many questions, but I’ve not spoken to anyone in a long time. I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like.
He reaches for the mop and wrings it in the bucket before he starts mopping the hall.
“What are you doing?”
“Mopping the floor,” he replies with a mischievous grin.
“But why?”
“Do you always ask so many questions?”
I can’t help but smile. It feels foreign.
“I saw you last night.”
“I saw you too.”
“Where’s the kitten?”
He looks up and down the hallway, ensuring we’re alone. “He’s in a safe place. Want to see?”
I nod happily.
“Okay, I’ll come get you tonight.”
My stomach drops as I remember Father Merry’s words. “I can’t tonight.”
I’m afraid if Father Merry finds us together, the same fate will befall Lenny. And I don’t want that for him. I want to save him just as he saved me.
He pauses from mopping and tilts his head to the side, examining me closely.
I shuffle my feet nervously.
“Why not?”
“Do you always ask so many questions?” I counter, using his words back at him.
He laughs. “Touché. You’ve got guts. Use it on whoever gave you this.” He reaches out and brushes back a piece of hair, touching the wound at my temple.
His touch is foreign as it’s filled with kindness. It’s the first time I’ve experienced such compassion.
“I’m not brave.”
He gently cups my cheek, those beautiful eyes penetrating right through me. “You can be whatever you want to be. You just have to believe it.”
A tear slides down my cheek, but I quickly wipe it away, embarrassed. “Where are your parents?”
“Dead,” he replies calmly.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. They deserved it. I’ve bounced from foster home to foster home, but once they got sick of me escaping, they sent me here—to hell. I need to get out of here. I need to find my brother. They separated us, which is why I kept escaping.”
“You were trying to find him?”
He nods, his jaw clenched.
I don’t know what it is about Lenny, but he touches something inside me. He makes me feel…worthy.
“I want to help.”
“See, there she is, my brave Valentina. You don’t even know me, and you want to help. I could be a serial killer for all you know.”
“No, that was my dad,” I reveal, and when Lenny sees I’m serious, his mouth drops open. “His name was Patrick O’Loughlin.”
“Damn,” Lenny says, shaking his head in awe. “And I thought my dad was an asshole.”
I don’t know what to say, so I do what feels natural—I laugh.
Lenny looks at me before he too joins in with the laughter. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.”
“Neither are you,” I reply, smiling broadly—another first.
He seems to grow quiet when our laughter dies, as if listening for something I don’t hear. “I’ll finish up here.”
I don’t want to go and wonder if maybe I said something wrong. But when I hear the voices of approaching sisters, I realize he doesn’t want me to be roped into doing any more chores for the day.
He rests the mop handle in the crook of his armpit so he can reach for both of my calloused hands. He turns them over, and a look of anger slashes across his face. “Go.”
It’s not a suggestion but rather an order.
I leave him watching me protectively, and only when I am out of sight do I hear the mop swish against the linoleum.
The moment the pull-down steps whine, hinting someone is coming up, I roll onto my side. I hope if I fake sleep, Father Merry will go away.
His footsteps creak across the wooden flooring, each step sending my heart into overdrive. I can smell the liquor on his breath as he leans down and kisses the top of my head.
“You look just like her. My sweet Margarette.”
I can’t breathe when he runs his hand down my back.
“You’ve got guts. Use it on whoever gave you this.”
Lenny’s words echo in my head, but I don’t know how to fight Father Merry off. He will; he has overpowered me. And I am so tired of fighting a battle I can never win.
“Come now, sweetling, my friends are waiting. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”
I’m lax in his arms as he carries me from the attic to the bathroom, where he bathes me. This is the only time he’s gentle.
“Water and baptism symbolize the Lord’s death, burial, and resurrection. It is in water we purify ourselves of our sins and become one with the Lord,” he says, passing the soapy cloth over my body.
His touches never stray from that of a caregiver when he prepares me like this. I wonder if he thinks he’s doing the right thing to make amends for all the awful things he’s about to commit.
Once I’m clean, he dresses me in a long white nightgown. He then plaits my hair into two braids.
He takes my hand, and we commence our familiar walk down the deserted hallway. I’m not nervous. I know what to expect, and the moment the basement door comes into view, I detach from my mind so I can no longer feel the atrocities that are about to befall me.
Father Merry opens the door, and we descend the stairs. I can smell cigarette smoke. I can hear the familiar whimpers.
Our hands are still entwined when we enter the basement.
“Gentlemen, forgive me for taking so long,” he says, addressing the two men who sit around a poker table.
Another man is behind the white sheet that’s hung up to provide privacy. I can see his silhouette. It’s lit up by the dim lighting. The lighting also allows me to see someone on their knees, their head bobbing up and down.
Still, I feel nothing. I have switched off to this reality because I want to believe it’s a nightmare I’ll wake from one day soon.
“She is worth the wait, Father. Bring her to me. I need a closer look.”
Father Merry leads me over to the man. I know better than to meet the eyes of these men, so I keep my head bowed. I can see he has shiny black shoes and wears navy trousers. He isn’t a man of God. Could he be different from the others?
“My name is Aldo,” he calmly says in an accent I’ve never heard.
No one has ever told me their name before.
“What’s your name?”
I don’t respond because I know I can’t speak to these men.
“It’s okay, bellezza . Don’t be afraid.”
“Her name is—” Father Merry commences but is sharply cut off by Aldo.
“I didn’t ask you, Father. I asked her.”
No one has ever spoken to Father Merry this way.
I like it.
I find the courage to speak. “Valentina,” I say, wetting my dry lips.
“Valentina. A beautiful name for a beautiful little girl. Look at me, Valentina.”
Even though this is against all the “rules,” I slowly lift my chin and look at Aldo.
He has dark hair and green eyes. They aren’t bloodshot or unfocused like the other men who have sat where he is. He seems gracious.
“That’s better. Look at those blue eyes. Eyes of an angel.”
Father Merry shifts uncomfortably, and I like that he seems uneasy.
“Come, we’re going to have a talk.”
He stands and offers me his hand.
Father Merry still has my hand but lets it go when Aldo makes clear this isn’t negotiable.
I slowly walk over to Aldo, who is much taller up close. He also smells nice. He smiles down at me. I simply stare at him, confused.
“Come, Valentina.” I cautiously slip my hand into his and follow as he leads me around the corner.
Old Christmas decorations and broken furniture are strewn around. It’s dark and dank, but funnily enough, I’m not afraid.
“I am very sorry you have lived this life, bellezza .”
I don’t know what that word means, but it’s kind.
“But I wish to take you away from here. Would you like that?”
I don’t know what to say. Is this a trick?
When Aldo sees my apprehension, he smiles. “It’s all right. I will not hurt you. You are far too precious for that. The paperwork is being finalized, but you will come live with me very soon.”
So many thoughts race around my head. No one has ever wanted me before. I don’t understand why Aldo does.
“I need two of you, though. A boy. Is there someone you’d like to take with you?”
I nod quickly in case he changes his mind.
“What is his name?”
I clear my throat, desperate to find my voice. “L-Lennon.”
“Okay, I will make sure of it.”
I don’t know what to say because this is surely a dream.
“I promise this life will be no more, bellezza . I hope everything will be organized in days. Until then, I will try to keep you safe.”
“Why me?” I whisper, confused. “I am nothing. No one.”
But Aldo clucks his tongue as he brushes his thumb along the apple of my cheek. “Don’t let me hear you say that ever again. You are far braver than you know. You must believe in yourself because you are going to change the world.”
I don’t know how, but I want to believe Aldo.
“No one has ever been this kind to me,” I confess, still unbelieving this is true. “What do you want from me?”
A hoarse laugh leaves Aldo. “I want that.” When I arch a brow in confusion, he clarifies. “I want that fighting spirit. I need it to succeed. You are invaluable to me.”
Father Merry sheepishly appears. “Everything all right? She isn’t what you wanted?”
I curl my lip, disgusted to be spoken about in this way.
Aldo grins, pleased his words aren’t lost on me. “She is exactly what I want. She is to go to her room. No other man will touch her. I will come get her once the paperwork is signed.”
There is no negotiation. Aldo has laid down the rule.
“We did not discuss that,” Father Merry says, shaking his head. “She isn’t up for adoption.”
I narrow my eyes because this is the first time I’ve heard this. Is that why I’ve been stuck here? Because Father Merry has told potential parents just that?
I hate him all the more.
Anger bubbles to the surface, and I take a step forward, ready to punch Father Merry in the stomach, but Aldo gently places his large hand on my shoulder, stopping me.
“I will pay you a quarter of a million dollars for her.”
Father Merry’s mouth gapes wide because money talks. But I can see there is apprehension. And so can Aldo.
“Half a million then for two children. Valentina and Lennon. Both shall be in my care.”
I don’t know what to say because no one, no one , has ever wanted me.
“You can have Lennon, but not Valentina,” Father Merry firmly says, folding his arms.
Visions of ramming a jagged edge of the broken Christmas tree ornament into Father Merry’s throat overwhelm me.
“ Bellezza ,” Aldo warns as if reading my thoughts.
His voice calms me, and I back down—for now.
“Father, do you enjoy your life?”
Father Merry looks at Aldo, confused. “Not that it is any business of yours, but I do. I live to serve the Lord.”
Aldo scoffs lightly. “Is that what you tell yourself when on your knees, praying to your God? Does that absolve you of your sins?”
“We are all God’s children, and He loves us infinitely, regardless of the sins we commit. If we repent—”
“Save your sermons, Father. They are wasted on a man like me,” Aldo orders calmly. “In three days, I will come for Valentina and Lennon. I will give you your money, and then we will never see one another ever again.”
“I beg your—” But Father Merry never finishes his sentence because Aldo coolly reaches into the back of his pants and produces a gun. He aims it at Father Merry’s head.
“Three days, Father,” Aldo repeats, never wavering, while Father Merry looks seconds away from passing out. It’s a sight I’ll never forget.
Eventually, Father Merry concedes. “Why do you want her?”
Aldo grins, but it’s not a happy gesture. “The same reason you do.”
I spin around, wanting to ask what that reason is, but Aldo bops the end of my nose. “See you soon, bellezza . Stay out of trouble until then.”
And that’s it.
I am dismissed.
I have so many questions, but this is my way out, and I have to pick my battles to win the war. So I look at my savior one final time, hoping he’ll be taking me away from this place.
I walk past Father Merry, but he doesn’t move, and that’s because Aldo’s gun is still pointed at his head. I’m about to turn the corner when I hear a girl’s muffled cry, which is soon drowned out by the squeaks of a mattress.
Squeak…
Squeak, squeak…
Squeak, squeak, squeak…
I know the sound all too well.
I want to help her, but Aldo shakes his head. “We can’t save them all,” he wisely says, knowing another would just take her place.
But how can I turn my back on her? I am here. I may not be able to save them all, but I can her. But in this circumstance, it’s either me or her.
And I choose me, even if it’s a choice I will regret for the rest of my life.
I hurry from the basement, my tiny legs barely able to keep up as I run to my room, afraid this is all a joke. But when I jump into my bed, heart racing so loudly I can hear it in my ears, I see that no one is following me.
I hold my breath, certain Father Merry will appear, telling me it’s all a joke.
But he doesn’t.
And only then do I take what feels like my first breath of life.