The Black Bag (Part 1 of 2)

Leaving for Home ~ 06

End of 2006,  Age 9

She hefted the tawny canvas backpack, testing its full weight. She'd already packed all she'd possessed in it: her toothbrush, a copy of Enid Blyton's 'Pantomime Cat' (a Christmas gift from Dr. Brammer), a button-down brown dress (worn almost daily), a beige jumper and yellow skirt (also worn almost daily), and a wooden lantern (a gift from Henry the carpenter). She just thanked goodness that she'd went out the other day, otherwise she wouldn't be able to fit anything else.

She took one last long look at what has been her room for the last 8 years of her life. This was her home from the very beginning...  But a new home awaited her and she is leaving this one forever. She didn't know whether she would miss it or not: she found peace in this room and she liked Sinclair, Paula and the other grown-ups; she found the other children to be the complete opposite. But then, she was probably weird that way. That would explain why they'd looked at her funny.

By the time she had reached the lower floor, Dr. Brammer and Sinclair were waiting for her in the foyer. She noticed someone else too: a boy about her age or more standing closely beside, fair-haired and casually-dressed (but neater than the other kids). The wire half-frames helped her recognize him straight away. The boy blushed a little when he felt her watching, waved back with a shy smile. Before she could think, her own hand went up and she waved back. 

Dr. Brammer greeted her when she got to the bottom, crouched down so that they were of equal eye level - just like how Sinclair sometimes did. "It's as I said: my son is rather fond of you." he told her softly with a carefree wink which made her lips twitch upwards. "I'm sure you will live happy with us. ...Well now.... You ready to go?"

She nodded, almost with pure confidence. "Yes."

The day was a blustery one, but not bad enough for the umbrella to fly out of Paula's hand. Dr. Brammer shared one last short chat with Sinclair before shaking hands and unlocking the car. Richard had a bit of a laugh from watching her climb into the car - she was one of the smallest despite her age -; she'd imagined that the backpack made her look like some rare breed of tortoise clambering up the upholstery. But she didn't mind at all. His laughter was a good type of laughter, not like what the other kids had.

She continuously watched through the window as they drove away. She saw Sinclair and Paula waving goodbye. She saw a few of the children rushing out to watch her go. She saw Nurse Josephine sitting at the bench with the youngest, Little Charlotte - the only other fellow orphan she ever liked there.

Then, the nagging in her gut came again. Her thoughts swam and she grew pensive as the bungalow filled her mind once more. She smiled to herself, ensuring that neither the boy or the father could see. He was lonely, she'd realized.

'It's okay... I left them... but I won't leave you.'

The nagging persisted, but the pull was less taut. He'd calmed down.

'See you soon.'