The Girl in the Garden

Chapter 1

Ben had never met a social worker before; he barely even knew what they were. When he heard that one was coming to take him away, he imagined that maybe she'd look like a businesswoman. When she showed up, though, he was surprised to see that she wasn't wearing a fine suit or nice shoes. She was a hunched-over woman, with silvery wisps of hair flying free from the sloppy bun on top of her head. She smiled at him, and it was a warm expression, but she maintained a safe distance and didn't even offer to shake his hand as she introduced herself.

"Gwendolyn Turner," she said, adjusting her thick-framed glasses with one hand. "You can call me Gwendolyn. You're all packed, I assume?"

Ben drew in a deep breath and gave her a shallow nod. He hooked one hand into the handle of his guitar case and heaved his bag up with the other.

"Oh, no, no." The woman shuffled forward and tried to push the guitar out of his grasp. "You were told just one bag, weren't you?"

Ben's grip on the guitar grew tighter, and his feet planted more firmly to the floor. "I'm not leaving without it."

"It's better if you don't take it with you now. It's safer here, and I can send it to you after you've settled at your uncle's place." She explained, but Ben fought with her about it for quite some time.

When Gwendolyn gave up and let him take the instrument with him, he also refused to store it in the trunk of her car. It wasn't easy or comfortable, but he insisted on keeping it in the passenger seat with him. As the social worker drove off, he watched in the rearview mirror as his family's little cottage disappeared behind them.

They drove without speaking for a long time before Gwendolyn tried to make conversation. "I'm sorry it has to go this way. These homes... they're not really...."

Ben felt her eyes on him, but he didn't look back. He kept his eyes forward, not wanting her to see how empty they were. Everyone kept expecting him to cry and be sad, but all he felt was... hollow.

"You know it's just temporary, right?" She was wringing her hands on the wheel, and her voice sounded sad. "Your mother left very specific instructions for a situation like this."

"She was always prepared," Ben said, "I guess nobody's prepared for their car to blow up, though."

Gwendolyn winced as if his words cut into her flesh, then she continued like he hadn't said anything. "So this place, it won't be perfect, but you won't be there for long. Just until we find your Uncle Wish."

Ben rolled his eyes, he had heard that name so many times in the last few days, but it never came up before. "Who even is this guy? I've never heard of him, and what kind of name is that anyway?"

"I know, all this is very strange and uncomfortable. I'm sure whoever your uncle is, he'll give you a good life. Parents don't choose guardians lightly."

"And how is it this hard to find him?" Ben said, feeling as though he should be angry, but still, he was just an empty shell of a person. "The Internet is a thing, right? You can find anyone on there."

"We're looking, Ben. I promise we'll find him."

"Can't I just stay at my house?"

"You know you can't. You're too young to stay alone, and besides, your mother's lawyer will sell the house soon."

"But a group home?"

The social worker let out a sad sigh, and the rest of the drive passed without a word. Ben had spent all of his life in his family's rural home, a quiet place that was out of the way. The further into the city Gwendolyn took him, the more trapped he started to feel.