Balloons

"Nana, where is Kelsey?"

A small, wide-eyed girl looked up at me. She was no more than five, with short, messy red hair and scattered patches of freckles. Her lips were pale, and in her arms she cradled a small teddy bear.

"I don't know darling," I said, and smoothed down the girl's already matted hair. Then I grabbed her, teddy bear and all, and brought her over to a small couch where seven other girls sat. They were a sorry bunch; tired and dirty. Each of them with the same matted hair, but so different appearances. The age range was vast, and none of the girls knew each other any other way than how they were here.

"She didn't leave early did she Nana?" the small girl asked, staring up at me again. "She said she'd say goodbye to me first, and then she'd give me all of Rupert's things before she left. That way I could be his mommy, like you are to me."

She gestured towards the worn out teddy bear she was holding. It's fur was old and was decorated with several dark stains. One of it's black button eyes were hanging by a thread, but poor little Natalie loved him unconditionally, just like Kelsey had when she first came here.

It was the full and honest truth that I was Natalie's mother. In fact, I was the mother to all of these girls sitting on the. There were seven of them sitting on the couch, but before Kelsey disappeared there had been eight.

How strange it is, that a single woman in her early thirties could have eight daughters. At first glance, it's easy to assume that I am a terrible mother. My children are hungry, dirty, and tired. They attend school each day, and every night they come home to work; be it around the house or out in the world. Afterwards, they come home and sit on this couch, and every girl would go around describing their day. The stories often lasted late in to the night, and young Natalie would most likely be sleeping by the time the oldest finished speaking. In this way, we became a family.

Yet each girl loved me, and I loved each one with the fullness of my heart. I could not bear children myself, and instead of crying and casting myself in to a whirlwind of unhappiness and self-pity, I signed up to be a foster mother. Now bring love and hope in to the lives of children with so little to love.

Not a single child knew my name, except for the oldest who had been my first. I wanted them to think of me as a mother, and so my new name became "Nana," because it sounded so much like "Nina." Sometimes, in the dead of night, even the oldest would refer to me as Nana, even though she liked to act as if we were partners in taking care of every child.

Now, I needed the oldest more than ever, and though I knew we were both emotionally disturbed, the toll was harder on me as a mother. So, with a quick and silent nod, I kissed Natalie on the cheek and stole away to my room at the far end of the home. There, I first allowed the hot tears to caress my cheeks. Kelsey had not been older than twelve. Why did she leave?

Of course, I already knew the answer, and that was the hardest of all. Kelsey always sat outside after dinner holding three balloons in hand. She would gaze at their colors, hypnotized and deep in thought, and then, gingerly, she would pop the first, pop the second, and let the third go. Then, she would stare at it as it slowly drifted out of view. Even as it vanished, she still stared up at the sky as if the balloon would come back if she wanted it badly enough.

Kelsey's job was to help the park vendors in the city. She would get herself all cleaned up, and sell balloons for hours. It was her favorite thing to do, and she wouldn't let anyone take the responsibility away from her. Finally, at the end of the day, the vendor would take out three hidden balloons, and give them to Kelsey along with some money for her help. Many said the air carried her home, and all who passed her couldn't help but smile.

But then, two days ago, the phone rang in my house very late at night. On the other end had been Kelsey's parents, eagerly asking to reunite with their child. Kelsey had been sent to me because, when she was very young, they could not support her due to financial problems. A week ago, her father had gotten a job overseas, and he wanted his daughter to finally rejoin their family.

So, yesterday I told her the news and she began to pack. There's no doubt in my mind that Kelsey come up with a plan at that moment and before school, she kissed me goodbye with more love than ever before.

After work she did not return from the street vendor. I knew that she had tried to run far, far away, as to not have to go live with her parents. Children, in essence, are stubborn, and it was only natural for her not wanting to meet the people who gave her up. Naturally, the police got involved, and I was told to stay here, and wait for news of my beloved daughter. I wanted more than anything to search, to hold the girl in my arms and tell her that I wanted to stay her mother forever, even though that was not possible.

So now, as I gaze out the window of my bedroom, hoping against hope that she will return to me, a pale, pink balloon is floating among the clouds, making its journey towards the sky.