Phoenix Child

  ~Thomas Edison

   

  The bus ride home was uneventful by San Francisco standards. I shared the bus with a pack of punked-out teenagers, some people arguing about the best way to prevent the government from reading their minds, and two drag queens. One sported Dolly Parton curls and a pink feather boa, and the other wore short black hair and a gold, sequined gown. Looking down at my hands, I jumped, having forgotten for a moment about my new skin color. Maybe I should try and talk to Kayin about all the crazy happening to me?

  Hopping off the bus I switched to the cable car, which would drop me off near home. I love riding the cable car. I always stand on the outside, even in bad weather. As we clanked and groaned over the hills, I looked down on my neighborhood.

  I tried to focus on the beauty of the city, but I couldn't drag my thoughts away from the changes happening to me. I didn't have any answers, nothing new to add to my list of possibilities, so letting my thoughts run crazy wasn't going to help anything. If being rational was enough, I would be able to stop the swirling tornado of questions, what ifs, and wild theories tearing through my mind. Unfortunately it wasn't enough, and the whirlwind continued.

  Getting off at my stop, I waved my thanks to the driver.

  I tried to calm my thoughts, and pull my focus back to the here and now. I couldn't fix anything today, and I hoped to wake up in the morning and find this was all a dream.

  Resting for a moment, I stared up at the cheery Victorian row house which had been my home for the past three years. Volunteers had come by recently and repainted Hope House. The white trim gleamed against the sunny yellow walls. Not only was Hope House the best group home I ever lived in, it also looked the prettiest.

  Walking up the stairs I groaned. Who knew you could over-work your butt? For afternoon classes Shin taught acrobatics, Philip and Kayin taught clowning, and Taliesin taught poi, the fluffy, bright-colored balls on strings which we spun around in patterns, or at least we tried to. It had been fun, but now my body ached.

  I skipped the steps that squeaked, to see if I could sneak into the house. On the second floor I stopped and listened as the kids in House One sang along to some Disney show. No sound came from House Two; the sibling set of five must have gone out on a visit. All clear, I continued my trek up the stairs.

  When I reached my floor, I heard shouting coming from House Four. Teenage boys are loud, especially when playing video games.

  Pressing my ear against House Three's door, I could hear voices and music; maybe today I could sneak in. I opened the door, making sure it didn't creak or open too wide, and peeked into the house. Melanie's back faced me as she played Go Fish with Caitlin, Rhonda and Myra. No one looked up from the table as I walked into the room.

  "Hello Sara, how was your day?" Melanie asked, causing all of us to jump.

  I glared at the back of her head. One of these days I was going to sneak up on her. Hey, everyone needs a goal.

  "I finished my homework," Shante shouted as she barreled at me, hugging me tight. The preschool she goes to sends home coloring sheets. Shante liked having homework like the "big girls."

  "Good job. How was your day?" I said, running my hand over Shante's dark brown pigtails.

  "Great, Miss Kimberly said I sang the ABCs louder than anyone else!"

  I believed her.

  "Go fish!" Caitlin yelled, sticking her tongue out at Myra.

  "Quiet down," Melanie said. "Now that Shante is finished, why don't you go watch TV?"

  Shante didn't follow the rest of the girls. Her big brown eyes inspected me carefully. "You look different."

  "Well, I am fifteen now." I hoped she'd buy that as an excuse.

  "I have something for you, don't move.” She ran down the hallway, and then came back waving a piece of paper. "Happy birthday!"

  I took the handmade card she thrust at my face. "Thank you Shante. It's wonderful."

  Shante poked her picture with a chubby finger. "It's a picture of all of us. There's you and me and the house you're going to buy for us, and there’s my mommy."

  An art therapist would have a field day with this drawing. Shante and I were bright smiling people with arms and legs standing in front of a hot pink house that apparently I would buy. Off to the side sat a shapeless blob of swirling gray, Shante's mom Sophia.

  "I love it, I'm going to go and hang it on my wall right now." I hugged Shante tight.

  Shante squeezed me, then ran off to the living room.

  "Can you get ready to leave in fifteen minutes?" Melanie asked. "Rachel should be here by then, and we can go."

  Deep sigh, my poor body. "Yes, let me shower and change.”

  I could hear the thumping bass of Crystal's music through our bedroom door. "Hello, Crystal. How was your day?"

  "Awful, the camp sucked and the food was so horrible, I couldn't eat any of it." She twisted her honey blond hair around her finger. "I have split ends, I need a haircut, but not from the woman down the street, she sucks. My roots are showing, I need to get a box of dye, but the stupid people here don't trust me enough to dye my own hair!"

  I winced at her voice and kept my head down hoping Crystal wouldn't notice my hair. It could happen. I'd had entire conversations with Crystal, and she'd never once looked up from the magazine she was reading.

  Gathering up my clothes, I didn't notice Crystal had moved until she ripped the bandanna off my head. "You dyed your hair! Melanie, Sara dyed her hair!"

  I went deaf for a moment, Crystal continued to scream, and the other girls all ran in, squealing at my black and red hair. Melanie came in, and everyone calmed down.

  "Sara got straight A’s on her report card, and she's never caused any problems or broken any rules," Melanie said, her voice firm. "So dying her hair was her reward, and a birthday present. I don't want to hear any more about it."

  The younger girls shrugged and went back to the living room. Crystal complained and demanded to call her caseworker because this was "totally unfair."

  I ran to the bathroom before anything else could happen. Hiding is underrated; it's my top problem-solving tool.

  As quickly as I could I washed the gel out of my hair and got dressed. I wanted to put my hair into another bun and hide the strange new color, but Melanie wouldn’t be okay with that, so instead I dried it as best as I could then wove it into a braid.

  Tossing my clothes into my laundry basket, I waved good-bye to Crystal who now moaned to her caseworker about my going with Melanie. I left without saying anything.

  I opened the door to Melanie's room and glared at the mess all over the floor. I cleaned her room last weekend. Oh, well, this meant she would pay me to clean it again.

  "We have to go."

  "Go out to the car, I need to find my stuff," she said stepping out of the bathroom.

  "I have your bag, keys, and phone." As if I didn't know exactly what she needed.

  "You're the best. All right, let's go."

  Melanie dressed comfortably, but far dressier than most days. She was wearing makeup and had also pinned up her hair! This created a lovely cascade of rich brown curls down her back and accentuated the heart shape of her face.

  Why was she so dressed up? "You look nice."

  "Well, we are going out for your birthday. I’m surprised you didn’t dress nicer."

  "What?" I asked making my eyes wide with fake innocence as I looked down at my blue jeans, blue blouse, and gray sweater. “This is nice for me.”

  Melanie glared at me. I couldn't help but laugh. She huffed and walked off, but I knew she wasn't mad. I followed behind and as soon as I stepped towards the door a little body slammed into me.

  "Do you have to go?" Shante pressed her face into my stomach. I always tucked Shante into bed and read her a story. I felt bad about leaving.

  "Yes, Shante, but I'll see you in the morning, okay? Be good for Rachel while we're gone."

  "Okay, night, Sara. I love you."

  "I love you, too, Shante."