LITMIR.BIZ

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to be my friend. At this point they were only acquaintances. I had a few conversations with some of the girls, and we even shared a few laughs but nothing real meaningful developed after that.

      The adult supervisors had therapy sessions that they encouraged everyone to participate in. A group of us would form a circle and openly talk about our problems. Sometimes I participated and other times I didn’t. It was depressing to sit and hear details about the situations some of the other girls came out of. Some were drug users, some were homeless teens from different states and others were selling themselves on the streets in order to buy food or purchase a bus ticket to a new town. It was sad, and downright horrifying listening to stories of sleeping in abandoned warehouses with rats and begging for money on the street corner. One girl named Africa, who was the same age as I was, talked about how she’d stand on the street corner and sing for money to get food. Her parents came to the United States from Haiti, but they both died in a fire when she was twelve. She was placed in a foster home but was abused by her foster mother, so she ran away. While living on the streets she had to constantly fight off men who tried to attack her while she slept on a mattress with a sickly stray dog she was trying to take care of.

      “I named my dog Port-Au-Prince, which is where my family is from. He protected me during those times. No matter how sick he was feeling, he wouldn’t let anyone get too close to me. He would always bark, even when it hurt to do so.”

      “What happened to Port-Au-Prince?” I asked her. Before she could answer, she started crying. “I was singing on a corner one morning trying to get enough money to buy him some food. He was lying down beside me, and when I’d finally gotten enough money I called to him, but he didn’t move. He died while I was singing.”

      “What song were you singing?” asked another girl.

      “An old song by Sam Cooke called ‘A Change Is Gonna Come.’ My mother loved that song.” Africa sang for the group, and by the time she was done I was in tears. One thing is for sure, I didn’t want any part of what I heard had happened to her to happen to me.

      * * *

      Early one Saturday morning, the group was scheduled to go for a fall outing to a local theater to watch a stage play. I had just boarded the group van but was pulled off of it by Maggie. I hadn’t seen her in weeks. I followed her back inside and upstairs to the office where we’d be able to speak privately.

      “I really wanted to go see that stage play, Maggie,” I said to her.

      “Well, we have to do something else instead. I have to get you over to a doctor for a blood sample.”

      “Blood sample for what?” I asked.

      “I got in contact with the man that your mother said might be your dad. At first he said that he didn’t recall who your mother was and that there was a mix-up,” she explained. “I didn’t hear from him for a few weeks and then, out of the clear blue sky, he called me back.”

      “Well, what did he say?” I asked, holding my breath on her every word.

      “Apparently he has a cousin named Simon.”

      “The man that my mother got caught up with?”

      “Yes.”

      “Oh, great. If my biological father is related to Simon, you can forget it. I’ll just stay here at the group home.”

      “Well, hang on before you say that. Simon and the man who may be your father are as different as night and day.”

      “Go on, I’m listening,” I said.

      “Simon got in contact with his cousin through another family member and reminded him about a particular house party they’d gone to years ago when they were both young men. An encounter occurred between Simon’s cousin and your mother.”

      “But Justine doesn’t remember this, right?” I asked.

      “I don’t know what your mom remembers. Anyway, I got a phone call back from Simon’s cousin and he has agreed to be tested just to make sure he doesn’t have any children out in the world he’s not aware of.” I swallowed hard. I felt my heart racing and I couldn’t calm myself down.

      “So, we’re going to head over to the clinic for a blood sample and let science tell us if we’ve located your biological father.” I exhaled loudly. My feelings were somewhere between happy and terrified.

      “I know this isn’t easy,” Maggie said.

      “I’m afraid,” I admitted as I swallowed hard.

      * * *

      Several weeks after my blood sample was taken, Maggie resurfaced again. I was in the common area playing Monopoly with Africa and a few other girls when Maggie rushed in and called out my name, “Keysha.” I could hear the excitement in her voice. I captured her gaze.

      “Come on, let’s go upstairs into the office.” I excused myself from the table and followed her. The upstairs office was as busy as it always is. The phones were ringing, the typewriters were dinging and there was a continuous hum of several conversations taking place at the same time. I took a seat in front of the desk where Maggie sat.

      “The test results came back.”

      “And?” I asked, fearing the worst.

      “We’ve found him,” she said with a smile. I couldn’t believe it. I suppose I should have been happy but I was actually mortified by this new information.

      “Well, aren’t you happy?” she asked.

      “I don’t know. I mean, who is he? What is he like? Does he even care about me?”

      “His name is Jordan, and he’s doing very well. He’s married and has a son who is a few years younger than you.” She paused in thought for a moment. “He and his wife have agreed to come and meet you.”

      “Come and meet me?” I began to feel a panic attack setting in. “How about coming to get me the hell up out of here?”

      “Keysha, don’t get upset. I mean, your existence is very shocking and unnerving to him. This has changed everything for him. He never knew about you.”

      “Well, he does now, and I don’t understand why he just doesn’t come down here and pick me up so that I can go!” I was emotional and shouting at Maggie. I didn’t mean to shout at her but my emotions weren’t in full control.

      “Keysha, you have to understand the situation he’s in, too. He had to explain you to his wife and the rest of his family. I mean, give him credit, he was man enough to admit he’d had an encounter with your mother. He and his family have yet to make a decision on what to do.”

      “Well, I’m part of his family. What about what I have to say?”

      “Calm down, okay?” Maggie said, trying to get me to relax.

      “Okay, I’m cool. When will they be here?”

      “In a few days. His mother is coming into town, and he wants to wait until she arrives before he comes because she wants to meet you, as well.”

      “Well, what’s his name?” I asked again.

      “His name is Jordan,” Maggie said. For a moment I felt good about knowing his name, but then random thoughts began dancing around in my head.

      “What if they don’t like me? What if they don’t want me? What if—”

      “Slow down, Keysha. Be patient. There are a lot of things that are still unclear, okay?”

      “I can’t be calm,” I said, feeling my nerves buzzing.

      “Keysha, whatever the outcome of all this is we’re going to do what is best for you.” Maggie smiled at me warmly. I didn’t say anything else. I just tried to maintain my composure and hope that my father was the type of man who would understand me as well as get along with me.

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