NaNoWriMo. Chapter One.
Chapter One
Devon swallowed hard and looked up at the building looming over him. The gray stones were stacked like bricks but far larger, making him feel tiny. He wasn’t used to feeling small. He was bigger than most of his teachers and had been since seventh grade. Now a junior, he’d spent the last two-and-a-half years trying to convince Coach Hendricks that he didn’t want to play football. An almost hysterical giggle built in his throat at the realization that he’d never have to tell him again. Since he’d never see him again. Or his school. Or his friends. Or-
“Devon?”
He jerked his face around to look down at the small woman guiding him into the building, Miss Werner (“Call me Anne”). His social worker. Her expression was calm and concerned and just a little pitying.
“Sorry,” he muttered, realizing he’d stopped in the middle of the stairs.
“It’s okay. Ready to keep going?”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Sure.”
She nodded and tucked her hand into his elbow, smiling at him as they headed up the stairs. He swallowed back a sob that there was no way he was going to let out. Not here, not now, not anywhere, not ever. But Mom used to do that. Pretend she was a lady and he was a lord in one of the old books of tales they’d loved reading together and walked with her hand held just like that. And he’d opened the doors and made sure he was on the street-side when they walked on the side-walk, and been the perfect gentleman, just like in her books. Her knight, she called him.
He opened the door from habit, and Anne’s smile widened, her eyes dancing as she dropped a hint of a curtsey and stepped through. He bit his lip and followed her into a hall that completely dwarfed him, the vaulted ceiling so high he couldn’t touch it if he stood on his own shoulders. “Mr. Kain’s office is just through here,” she said, gesturing him towards a utilitarian oak door that seemed incongruous in the majestic surroundings. But then, so did the barrel-shaped trashcan full of gumwrappers and soda bottles next to it, and the wooden, swinging doors with their glass panels that lead deeper in. They’d kept the outside of the castle or cathedral or whatever it was this place had used to be, but clearly weren’t trying to actually hold its historical integrity at any deep level. But then, that was clear enough, given that they were filling it with kids.
“Can we talk to Mr. Abel instead?” he asked, hoping even such a weak joke would take the concern out of her eyes and make her stop trying to see him when she looked at him.
She smiled widely, straight teeth flashing, and said, “I wouldn’t have taken you for the biblical sort.”
“I’m not,” he said. “But I can drop names with the best of them.”
That won a trill of merry laughter as she opened the door and led him into a spacious office with a countertop in front of them and a door off to the side. Several cubicles were on the far side of the counter, people working busily at them. The man behind the counter, a bored-looking guy with glasses and a bad haircut, offered them a clinical smile and said, “Brought the new one in safely, Ms. Werner?”
She rolled her eyes. “He was hardly making a break for it. We were just working out all the paperwork. Is Mr. Kain free?”
The man shrugged, punched a couple buttons on his phone, and said, “Ms. Werner’s here with the new boy.” He paused, listening, then nodded. “Will do.” Turning back to them, he waved languidly at the door and said, “Take him in.”
Out of habit, Devon opened the door and held it for her to pass through, then followed her through the maze of cubicles to another, which she held for him, eyes laughing up at him. Flushing a little, he stepped into the office and stood uncertainly inside, hands folded behind his back, looking at the clutter of paperwork on the desk rather than the man behind it.
“Anne, how are you?” a friendly voice asked. “And you must be Devon?”
He reluctantly looked up, taking in an older man, very thin, dressed in a cheap suit with a bad chin, not much hair, and good eyes. Really good eyes, he decided, looking more carefully. A little lined around the edges, crinkled a little now with a good-humored smile, unremarkably brown-Devon liked them. “Yes, sir,” he agreed.
“’Sir’! A polite teenager-I thought the breed was dead,” Mr. Kain said, his smile inviting Devon to laugh with him rather than mocking him. “Sit down, both of you. This shouldn’t take too long. Just a basic intake.”
Obediently he sat, folding his hands in his lap since he didn’t know what else to do with them since they were unusually empty. Usually he had a book or a notebook or something to make them look a little less useless and awkward.
“I’m sure you know the story of our institution and the others like them,” Mr. Kain said. “If you didn’t before, I daresay you would have heard it over the past couple weeks.”
“Yes, sir,” he repeated. He knew more about it now, but everyone knew the basics, of course. That when the foster system was thrown out they’d come up with something completely different-and this was it. The rental program. Not that they called it that. They called it the Family Experience Trust. Allowing individuals, couples, and families to experience having a child (or an additional child in the case of families), and paying enough for the privilege to cover their room, board, school, medical expenses, and, as often as not, college later on. It wasn’t fostering and it wasn’t adoption. They didn’t keep the kids, that was the difference. They just got the parts they wanted. A lot of the time, that meant vacations and holidays. People who wanted a posse of kids to take trick-or-treating or something. He’d never really given it much thought-it was just the way things were. He didn’t figure it would ever much effect him unless he wanted to try out parenthood someday. Or older-siblinghood or something. Mom and he had toyed with the idea of getting a little kid last Christmas. They’d decided against it. Not because of the money--it was pretty expensive, but not that bad. But once they’d decided to seriously look into it, they realized the background check to make sure they weren’t freaks or pervs or something wouldn’t’ve been complete till February. They figured they’d talk about it over the winter and decide if they wanted to for next Christmas by May. His eyes flickered to the little date strip on Mr. Kain’s desk. March 21, 2007. They still had another six weeks to make up their minds. Except that now she was dead, and he was rentable, rather than thinking about renting. He blinked back tears and forced himself to focus on getting through the meeting.
“Good, good. Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me off the bat?”
“No, sir.”
“Okay. If you come up with any, jump right in. First off, let me say that while I can’t literally claim that my door is always open-figuratively it is. If you have a concern, come to me. Leave a note in the office if I’m not available. I will get it promptly, and I will try to resolve whatever the issue is. The teachers and staff are, likewise, always available. If you have anything you want to get off your chest but don’t want to talk to a teacher or me or the other kids about-there’s a staff member on each hall of the dorms who’s a licensed therapist. They’re there to make sure everyone’s safe and as happy as possible-and that includes talking to you. Each one at you age level has got about thirty kids to look after, but yours will always have time for you. Not always instantly-but soon. As in within hours. Minutes for an actual emergency. Speaking of emergencies, we’ve been sent your health records and have no records of any allergies, illnesses, medications-that sound right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay. When we’re done here, Anne’s going to take you to your hall and introduce you to your Guide. You’ll have Ed. Edward Richardson. He’s a great guy. He’ll help you to get settled in, introduce you to your roommate, and give you a tour. By which time it’ll probably be just about time for dinner. After dinner, you’re free to wander around. We’ have some great community facilities, exercise facilities, and so on and so forth. You’re also welcome to head back to your room. I have a class schedule here for you-you’ll be starting classes tomorrow. They run eight to three, Monday to Friday. We have a wide range of extracurricular you’re welcome to join in, from sports to theater to clubs of various sorts. Theater tends to be particularly popular. If you have any major problems with your class schedule or your roommate they are somewhat negotiable, but only within reason. You are always able to browse through the applicants looking for temporary custody of a child, just to get used to the program, although you can’t actually offer to fill such a position until you’ve been here at least a month.”
Devon felt his breath quickening a little at the idea, and Mr. Kain held up one hand.
“You do not at any time have to fill any positions. Ever. Nobody here does. People do it because they enjoy it, in many cases, and in others for the benefits it brings in terms of college funds after reaching maturity. But you will not ever be pressured by the administration to partake in the Experience. If you feel pressured, tell someone. Ideally first the person who you feel is pressuring you, but if that feels frightening or difficult, someone else. Your Guide, me, you can call Anne up and tell her-anyone. We will take care of it. This program is about filling the needs of the children first and foremost.”
He nodded, calmed by the intensity of Mr. Kain’s eyes. He believed everything he was saying.
“We already took care of all the paperwork…. So I guess if there’s nothing else, Anne can take you to meet Ed.”
“Nothing else, thank you, sir,” he agreed, standing up.
Mr. Kain rose as well, and shook his hand, grip warm and dry and firm. “I know this is a difficult transition for you, Devon. But we’ll try to make it as easy as possible, and while we can never make up for your loss-this life is not so bad.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said, even meaning it on some level. It was nice that he was trying to reassure him, even though the words were far from enough to steady the rocking of the world beneath him. He wasn’t sure anything could, though.
He followed Anne back out of the office and through the double doors towards the stairs, then down a maze of stairs and corridors that seemed like it would never end.