Never Too Late

Chapter Twenty Eight

Hanna parked her car on the sidewalk outside the small, modest foster home where Johan once lived. It was painted a shade of grey-blue and had a grey roof and white window panes. In the yard, there were children's toys scattered on the lawn and children's finger painting canvases lying on the rose bushes near the porch, drying. From a quick glance, it looked like a warm and homely place, but the sound of a child screaming pierced the atmosphere as angry shouts rang out.

"Pick them up! Pick them up!" An old woman demanded as she dragged a young boy who was screaming and kicking by the arm.

"No! I don't want to!" The child screamed and wailed while thrashing from side to side until the old woman gave up and threw him down.

Alarmed, Hanna quickly approached the scene and put herself between the old woman and the child.

"You can't treat a child like that!" Hanna declared as she held her arms out protectively. The little boy, seeing his chance, bolted back into the house, leaving the two women to argue.

"Who exactly are you to tell me how to discipline him?!" The old lady barked as she glared at Hanna while looking her up and down.

Collecting herself, Hanna regained her composure, seeing that the boy was now presumably safe and out of reach.

"May we speak inside?" Hanna asked, and the old woman looked surprised at how dignified she suddenly sounded.

Once inside the foster home, Hanna was greeted by six little boys, including the one who was screaming, who was now sobbing quietly.

"My office is this way," the old lady directed, and after giving the children warm glances, she went with her to an office that was just a tiny room filled with shelves and cabinets that made Hanna feel claustrophobic. After taking a seat, the old lady didn't speak and only stared at her with impatient annoyance.

"Thank you for inviting me in," Hanna began, but the old lady cut her off.

"Listen, we've been up to date with all the requirements for the children's bureau, so I don't know why they had to send a representative here!" The old lady said irritably while pulling out an official document to show Hanna.

"I'm sorry, but you have me confused with someone else. I'm not from the children's bureau," Hanna said, stopping her.

"What!?" The old lady said, pausing with documents in hand. "Then who are you!?"

"Oh, my apologies, I'm Hanna Hunter," she introduced herself.

"I'm Mrs Simpson. I operate this foster home." The old lady said warily.

"Nice to meet you, but I won't be long. I'm just here to pick up a few things." Hanna declared, and Mrs Simpson eyed her suspiciously.

"I'm sorry, who are you exactly?" Mrs Simpson said, growing more wary of Hanna.

"I'm Johan's mother," she told her and watched as the old woman's face morphed from shock to confusion.

"I'm sorry, I think I heard you wrong, but did you say Johan?" She asked again.

"Yes, that's correct," Hanna said proudly, and Mrs Simpson looked her over again, this time more closely, and Hanna saw her eyes widen once she saw the bit of resemblance she and her son shared.

"Hold on, I thought Johan was an orphan!" Mrs Simpson said in astonishment and disbelief. "Is this some kind of sick joke!?"

"No, I can assure you I'm his birth mother and I've come to collect some documents my son left behind."

Hanna had been to Johan's elementary and Junior high school earlier to get his transcripts and school leaving certificates, but since he was homeschooled, she had to get his homeschool diploma, which he had left behind at the foster home. Since Johan would be applying for college soon, he would need these documents, but as Hanna observed how Johan's former foster mother behaved, she understood why her son didn't want to accompany her here.

"Wait, if that's true, then why was he here!? I don't understand what's going on!" Mrs Simpson said getting up but Hanna stopped her. Sighing deeply, she recounted the story of how Johan was separated from her, and Mrs Simpson gawked at her incredulously.

"So you see, I'm only here for my son's documents, and I don't want to cause any trouble." Hanna finished, and Mrs Simpson shook her head apprehensively.

"I see, well, come with me," Mrs Simpson said, instructing Hanna to follow her. Mrs Simpson then led her to a small, stuffy, dimly lit room down a hall that was crammed with small beds and cabinets.

"Johan slept here!?" Hanna said, shocked, but Mrs Simpson didn't share the same sentiment.

"Yes, with four other boys. This was his bed." She said, pointing to one of the beds in the corner of the room. "The stuff he left behind is in a box under it."

Mrs Simpson then exited the room and left Hanna to lament the situation her son had been living in. She imagined Johan shivering in the drafty room, lying on a mattress that was way too small for him, with his feet hanging off. She deeply regretted not finding him earlier and wished she could somehow turn back the hands of time.

Once she found the documents, she exited the room somberly and saw Mrs Simpson was waiting outside with another woman who looked a bit younger, but she had greying hair and missing teeth.

"So this is Johan's mother!?" The woman spoke bitterly and looked Hanna up and down. "What a joke!"

"I'm sorry, what did you say!?" Hanna asked, startled and offended by what she had just heard.

"I'm Mrs Clementine, and I took care of your son for three whole years, and all that time, he was an ungrateful wretch!" She said and spat each word with venom. "Who do you think you are, coming here and walking around like you're important!?"

Stunned, Hanna stared at the woman in disgust before collecting herself.

"Your attitude and disrespect are unwarranted, but I have what I came here for, so if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way," Hanna said, brushing by both women, but Mrs Clementine continued.

"You should be thanking us for taking care of him, especially with what we had to put up with!" She ranted. " We had to beg him to do chores, and he was always disrespectful, but worst of all, he would disappear for days and come back reeking of alcohol before passing out on the floor drunk!"

"What? Are you sure you're talking about Johan?" Hanna turned back to ask the women who seemed all too eager to slander her son.

"Yes," Mrs Simpson added. "He was a bad influence on the children because he was always associating with sketchy people. We tried our best to curb his ways, but he walked out on us so he could continue as he always has."

"I know my son, I might not have been there his entire life, but he's not the person you've described." Hanna defended, but secretly she felt worry blossom in her stomach because a part of her knew it was ignorant to assume he was never in trouble.

"Oh really? Ask him yourself when you see him. I bet you'll be surprised by the type of person he really is." Mrs Simpson smirked, but Hanna fired back.

"In case you didn't know, it's illegal to homeschool a child in foster care, so you both should be counting your blessings that I'm willing to ignore what you said about my son just now, but if you continue, I think there are some people I might contact." Hanna threatened before abruptly walking away.

When she made it to her car, one of the little boys she saw when she entered the house ran up to her and got her attention.

"Um, so you're really Johan's mom?" He asked with eyes so innocent that it reminded her of a kitten's.

"Yes, I'm Johan's mother," Hanna said proudly, and the boy smiled.

"Oh wow! Well, can you give him this for me, please?" He asked before pulling out a painting he had hidden behind his back and giving it to her. It had seven stick figure boys standing in front of the foster home, which was crudely drawn but still recognizable. There was a blue sky and a rainbow over all of them, and the words 'my family' were written underneath it, and it was signed Amiel.

"This is really nice, you're so talented!" Hanna praised the boy, and he beamed happily.

"Thanks, I really hope my mom comes back for me too one day!" The boy smiled as he rocked back and forth happily.

Hanna didn't know what to say to this, but she felt her heart break for him since he was so young and full of hope. She wished she could reassure him, but she didn't know what the future held.