Chapter 4
The family-
Peggy offered me her hand. I didn’t take it, as if it was a poisonous snake. She clasped my hand in hers and gently pulled me up. Once I was standing, the first thing she did was wrap me in a big hug. My head was pushed under her moist, smelly armpit, but I didn’t mind, because her embrace was so comforting. I didn’t know much about myself, but I knew I liked touch. I wondered if the Russians had hugged me before the coma, or maybe I had always been in a coma, left alone, left untouched. When she let me go, she looked down at me with moist eyes.
“I want you to know, Jane, that I love you.” It felt good to be loved. Both of our auras were brilliant blue, merging together.
Peggy held my hand and led me down to the dining room. It was huge with a line of mismatched tables pushed together. The whole family and their guests were gathered around the tables. The dining room must have been the old chapel to the church, being the biggest room of the house. You had to go from the kitchen, through the family room, to get to the dining room. They probably should have made the big room the family room, and the family room the dining room, since the family room was next to the kitchen.
Up and down the tables were dishes filled with savory food. Golden rolls, stuffing, peas, Jell-O, lemon peppered chicken legs, and salad. The clan of people said a prayer, then the gates of chaos opened. They dove in, appearing like flies covering a dead carcass as they pushed, shoved, and yelled. Within seconds the cloud of bodies dissipated, and all the food in the middle was gone, only empty serving dishes remained. I watched everyone as they ate, shoveling the food in, barely chewing it before the next spoonful was consumed. If they weren’t quick enough, someone else would swipe something off their paper plate, even their spoon. The kids looked like they had learned to eat using their bodies as a shield, protecting their food. My stomach grumbled as I realized my plate was empty. I wasn’t going to get anything to eat.
“Don’t you worry none,” Peggy said as she walked a plate of food over to me. “I gotcha covered this time. I will help you get food your first week here, but after that, you are on your own.”
Peggy turned to the table and yelled out, “No one touches the food off of Jane’s plate. Is that clear?”
There was no verbal response, just a lot of slurping as people concentrated on their dinner.
“IS THAT CLEAR?” Peggy screamed.
“Yeah,” the kids mumbled.
I really enjoyed my dinner. Peggy was an excellent cook. The only problem was the portions were so small. I was still very hungry when meal time was over. I guess I could have told her as much, but I still wasn’t ready to talk. Besides, I wasn’t sure it would have made any difference. Whenever someone would tell her they were still hungry, she would bark at them, “Not my problem. I made a nice meal. Next time fight harder and get more.”
After dinner, I sat in the family room. Mike, the father was already seated in front of the TV playing video games with one of the boys. They were oblivious to my presence. Meanwhile, the other kids ran in and out of the room. Peggy sprawled out in the recliner constantly proclaiming how good it felt to sit. Every now and then, she would yell at one of the passing kids to come and play with me. They would sit by me, but never say anything, stiffly sitting until they were sure their mom wasn’t watching, then they would slip away. They must have been afraid of me. I couldn’t blame them, for I was afraid of them as well.
Despite the constant noise, Peggy drifted to sleep, snoring loudly from her chair. I watched all the commotion around me not knowing what to make of my new living arrangements. There were too many people in the house. I couldn’t tell who belonged to the family, who was a neighbor kid, or who was being babysat.
Sitting amidst the sea of uncertainty, I tried to remember my life. I was sure I had a life before the Russians. Had I come from a big family or a little one? Were there people out there who loved me and missed me? Had the Russians actually been my parents, or were they kidnappers who liked to torture little girls? If they had been my parents, why did they raise me in a cement room forcing drugs in me? Would parents really do that to their kid? Maybe Child Protective Services had gotten it wrong. Maybe I had been sick and the Russians were doctors treating me in our own home. Everyone kept talking to me and telling me how bad it was that I had been hooked up to a PICC line, but wasn’t it the very same thing the hospital had done to me? Maybe the Russians were not citizens so they didn’t dare take me to the hospital. I couldn’t imagine they would want to hurt me. I really couldn’t understand much during that time. As I was contemplating all this, Peggy awoke. She snorted with her startle, and sat up looking wild, regaining recognition to the place. She noticed me sitting there alone as Mike and the boys were yelling at the TV, engrossed in their game.
“Oh, poor Jane, no one has done anything to play with you.” She turned her attention to Mike and sons.
“Mike, Christian, Joshua, why aren’t you guys letting Jane play with you?”
Mike answered her without taking his eyes off the game. “Really? She can’t even talk. How could she possibly play?”
“You don’t know what she is capable of. Maybe you should give her a chance.”
“No, no, no!” Mike said, getting angry. “I am on level ten. I have almost found the scroll. There is no way she is touching this and losing all my hard work, no way!” His fingers madly moved across the video controller.
“Ohhh,” Peggy murmured. “I hate that stupid X-Box. I am going to bash that thing in with a hammer one day.”
“Then I will bash in your sewing machine,” Mike warned.
Peggy looked at me with pity in her eyes. “Do you like boating?” she asked, ignoring her husband’s last comment.
I stared at her without saying a word.
“Of course you will like it, let’s go,” she said as she pulled my body up from the couch.