The trip was already a disaster. Jaden had to admit that even he had kind of gotten used to the picture of the baby. In Bahytzhan’s picture, his little forehead was wrinkled with worry. Jaden knew just how he felt: Bahytzhan didn’t have a mother, and he was worried about it.
Penni’s and Steve’s mouths were both hanging open. “Bahytzhan is gone?” Penni asked. “But he was offered to us. We accepted his referral. We were expecting him to be our son.” Then she said with the assertiveness she occasionally pulled out of a hat, “I’m still expecting it.”
“We will get you very nice baby,” Akerke replied. “Better than Bahytzhan.”
“You don’t understand what we’re saying. We came all the way here just for Bahytzhan,” Steve said.
“We were told it was all set,” Penni added, again assertively. “He’s the baby I came for, and he’s the baby I want.”
Apropos of nothing, Sam said to Jaden, “Everything in America is practical. For instance, there are no potholes.”
“Actually, a lot of potholes are formed in the United States every year from the weather,” Jaden said. “We get them where we live too.”
“What does a young boy know of potholes?”
“We visit government offices once in a while for field trips at school, so I know about potholes that way,” Jaden said, studying Sam’s profile. He had wrinkled, dark skin. A lot of his wrinkles were smile lines, which seemed like a good thing.
“Your school teaches you about potholes instead of arithmetic?”
“No, we learn that, too.”
“Potholes and arithmetic. What is the world coming to?” Sam shook his head, as if determined to be unhappy.
“Jaden,” said Akerke, “Sam has many opinions. But later you will like it to talk to him. He reminds me of my uncle.”
“Hold on a second,” Steve said. Jaden could hear his voice getting tense. He was used to that voice. “How did Bahytzhan get adopted? We came here to adopt him. That’s what we came for, and only that. We didn’t come to choose a baby.”
“You must accept another beautiful baby,” Akerke said patiently. “Bahytzhan was beautiful baby, yes, but he was not most beautiful. There are others. You will see. Bahytzhan cried many times. Once he spent two hours crying during bonding period. Beautiful, yes, but he was difficult baby.”
Penni was sitting with her mouth hanging open again, stunned. She always had so much faith that everything would work out if you were just a good person, and now she looked completely defeated. “It’s impossible,” Penni said at last. “Difficult or not, we came for him. How can someone else have adopted him? Why did you let that happen?”
“Is baby house director who decides this.” Akerke took a big breath. “I do not know everything how this happened. But I tell you that Bahytzhan is gone. He is gone.” Her expression grew worried. “Just the same, we will need to go forward.”
Jaden waited to see how Penni and Steve would react.
Out of nowhere Sam mused, “Americans have a lot of money, but I once had much more. I had so much money, it reached the ceiling in my home.” He jerked his head sharply at Jaden. “Do you believe me?”
“Sure,” Jaden said.
“It is true!” Sam cried out, as if Jaden had said he didn’t believe it.
Outside the car, the landscape was barren—brown dirt, faded plants, and gray-green bushes and trees. Occasionally Jaden saw a shepherd and sheep. One time they passed a shepherd with several double-hump camels ambling close to the road. Jaden had never seen a camel outside a zoo. He opened his window. The warm air blew into his face, but he also felt those little pings from the dust. He raised the window and let his mind wander.
Chapter Ten
The vast steppes were mesmerizing; Jaden lost track of time. He’d read the definition of “steppe” in the dictionary before they left. It meant “a large area of flat, unforested grassland in southeastern Europe or Siberia.”
Closer to the city, some half-built buildings blended into the landscape. Soon, Sam turned down an unpaved road. A camel rummaged through a garbage bin, and a pack of dogs scampered across an empty lot. There was row after row of similar buildings. Penni had told Jaden they would be staying in housing left over from when Kazakhstan was part of the Soviet Union.
Some of the roads Sam drove down were paved; huge sinkholes marred the asphalt. All over the roads were patches of white, but it wasn’t cold enough for snow. “Where does the white stuff come from?” Jaden asked.
“Is salt from the Aral Sea,” Akerke said eagerly, as if happy not to be talking about the adoption.
There was also broken glass everywhere. Some homes had missing walls, some had makeshift tin roofs. Even though everything Jaden could see was ugly, he felt that it was exciting somehow, a little bit magical, like anything could happen here, unlike in America, where every day was the same.
Then they passed a couple of Kazakh people with piles of watermelons on blankets. He wondered how much the watermelons cost. A good watermelon could pretty much make your day.
At last they came to a row of tan five-story apartment buildings that stretched as far as Jaden could see. All the same. Many of the curtains were blue. Antennas and satellite dishes sprouted from the tops of the buildings.
There were no doors that Jaden could see. The main vegetation was weeds.
Sam turned down an alley and pulled to a stop in front of a blue door with a big crack making its way up the center. “This will be your apartment,” Akerke said.
They all got out, and Sam opened the trunk, again taking two of the suitcases and leaving the last for Akerke.
“Let me take that,” Steve said.
Akerke waved him off. “Is my job.”
“Why do Americans have such big luggages?” Sam asked. “They must own many things. Give me a toothbrush and three shirts and I am ready to go anywhere.” He shot a glance at Jaden—he seemed to have glommed on to Jaden. “Huh?”
“We have gifts and baby things, and I brought some granola,” Jaden explained.
“What is this?”
“Excuse me?” asked Jaden.
“What is this? You just said it.”
“Granola?”
“Yes.”
“It’s nuts and grains and honey. You eat it with milk.”
Sam nodded knowingly. “Ah, cereal. Leave it to an American to bring cereal to Kazakhstan.”
“What do you mean?” Jaden asked.
“Americans like to bring America with them wherever they go. Why not eat Kazakh cereal, eh? Tell me that.”
“Granola is kind of special cereal.”
Sam looked interested. “Eh?”
Several numbered push buttons were on the foyer door. Akerke punched in the code and said, “One, six, three, two. Do not forget or all will be lost.”
Penni said, “One, six, three, two. One, six, three, two. One, six, three, two. Got it.”
Sam grunted and lifted the two suitcases up the crumbling steps. At one point one of the wheels got stuck in a hole.
“I can help, Sam,” Steve said.
“Do not insult me.”
“Seriously,” Steve answered, “let me take them.”
“You must not insult me, though you pay my salary,” Sam replied.
When they reached the fifth floor, Sam rested his hands on his knees and breathed deeply several times. “Ah,” he said. “Ahhhh. Cereal. Thrilling cereal.”
“Special cereal,” Jaden corrected him.
Akerke jiggled a key in the lock for a minute. Then she opened the door. Right away there was another door, less than a foot from the first one. Sam stayed at the threshold while the rest of them wandered from room to room. The apartment had two bedrooms, with a queen-size bed in one and a twin bed in the other; a large living room; a bathroom; and a large kitchen with a table and cha
irs.
Out the window in the room with the twin bed, Jaden was happy to see that you could view the steppe way beyond the alley.
“Is fine?” Akerke asked.
“It’s perfect,” Penni said.
“Is very nice,” Akerke said happily. She was just about the happiest person Jaden had ever met. “Is very modern,” she continued. “In my country many people still eat and sleep on floor, but here you may eat and sleep as you do in America.” She smiled widely, truly happy. “You have cable and may watch all the television. Many stations.” She gave a quick, smiling nod of her head after she said that. “And there are dishes for eating.” Another happy nod of her head. “Is very much okay, I think.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Penni said. “Absolutely.”
“Quite acceptable,” Steve said. “We were expecting worse.”
“And why is this?” Akerke asked. She seemed a little insulted.
“We’d read up on the poverty here,” Steve said.
“It’s fine,” Penni added quickly. “Absolutely.”
“Absolutely,” Akerke repeated. “I have always liked that word. The Americans have many fine words. Now, can you be waiting downstairs at seven?”
“Yes, of course,” Steve said.
Akerke and Sam left, and Steve took Penni in his arms. “Don’t worry, we’ll ask again about Bahytzhan. Maybe there’s some kind of mistake,” he said.
“In my heart he’s already ours.” She was pressing her cheek into Steve’s shoulder.
“I know. I know. We’ll get everything straightened out when we go to the baby house.”
Jaden decided to take a nap while Penni and Steve went grocery shopping. First of all, he hadn’t gotten his twelve hours of sleep, and second of all, he’d been with Penni and Steve for thirty-five straight hours, and that was more than enough. “If we don’t find a store, I guess we’re having watermelon for dinner,” Steve said.
“I saw a market on the way here,” Penni said. “I think we can find it.”
After Penni and Steve left, Jaden took off his shoes and collapsed onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling for about ten seconds, then decided to catch up with Penni and Steve. He wanted to see what kind of food they had here, so he could choose his own groceries. He tied his sneakers back up, grabbed a Russian-English dictionary, and dashed out the front door. He’d thought about bringing a Kazakh dictionary, but though most Kazakhs spoke their language, some did not. Plus, 30 percent of the people in Kyzylorda weren’t Kazakh. And Penni had told him that virtually everyone here spoke Russian.
He made his way slowly down the crumbly steps. When he was almost at the bottom, a step crumbled under his foot, and he almost fell. Boy, in America that would be a lawsuit waiting to happen.
Once outside, he glanced both ways. Penni and Steve weren’t anywhere. Where had they gone so quickly? Their building was in the middle of the block, so he had to choose right or left. He chose right and started jogging down the alley, in the same direction they’d driven here from.
Chapter Eleven
When Jaden got to the street, he again looked both ways and still didn’t see Penni and Steve. He considered running back to the other end of the alley, though he knew it would be too late to find them by now. So he hurried toward the front of the buildings. But when he got there, no luck. And dang it, he didn’t have a key to the apartment.
Jaden hadn’t seen anything resembling a market on the way here. But there were watermelon vendors. He opened up the dictionary and approached one of them. The woman said something that he of course didn’t understand.
“Produktoviyj magazin?” Jaden asked.
The woman now began talking quickly.
“Produktoviyj magazin?” Jaden said again, tilting his head a little so the woman knew he was asking a question. Then he pointed in a random direction and said, “Produktoviyj magazin?” again. He pointed at himself. “Amerikanets.”
The woman called out to another vendor. “American!” She and the other vendor talked for a bit and seemed to have forgotten about him, but then the woman pointed in a direction and said slowly, “Produktoviyj magazin.”
“Spasiba,” Jaden said. “Da svidaniya.” He set off in the direction the woman had indicated, memorizing landmarks. He walked through row after row of old Soviet apartment buildings that looked a lot like the one they were staying in. After about fifteen minutes he paused and stood on a corner. There was a shaggy two-hump camel right in his path. The camel started to come directly toward Jaden as if intrigued by him. He wouldn’t have thought he’d be scared of a camel, but he was.
Jaden trotted across the street, but the camel came galloping toward him. Jaden broke into a run. When he was out of breath, he looked back, and the camel was standing about ten feet away, watching him. He took a few backward steps, and the camel didn’t follow, so he moved away toward another vendor.
This vendor was selling huge squash as well as watermelons. Yuck, he hated squash. He asked again for a grocery store. The vendor pointed in a different direction from the one he was going in. So should he trust her? He paused, then decided he would go in the direction she pointed but keep careful track of where he was. He took note of an empty lot with a pile of colorful boxes sitting on it. That would be his landmark. He set off again, and after exactly eleven minutes he came to a grocery store. It was very small, and there was a woman churning butter at the entrance. He had read that there were currency exchanges all over, including in many stores, but there was probably none here—it was too small. He went in anyway. The store was basically a wooden shack with two aisles.
He didn’t see any shopping baskets. He picked up a small bag of almonds and a cheese, tomato, and cucumber salad in a plastic bag. In general he didn’t like vegetables, but he loved cheese a lot. When he first got to America, it was almost all he ate some days. He grabbed an uncut loaf of bread and a big block of white cheese and set the items on the counter in front of the cashier. She said something in what he thought was Russian.
Jaden took out a crisp hundred-dollar bill Penni had given him for a situation exactly like this and showed it to her. “Ya Amerikanets,” he said.
The cashier took the bill and held it up to the light from the window. She stepped outside and had an emotional exchange of words with the butter churner, and then she put the bill into a metal box and handed Jaden some tenge—Kazakh money.
Jaden stepped out of the store feeling quite successful. He checked his watch and walked for eleven minutes, but he didn’t see the dirt lot with colored boxes. Huh. He was positive he hadn’t passed it yet. So he set off again, but after five more minutes he stopped and faced the opposite direction. He went all the way back to the store, and then walked back in the direction of the dirt lot. But after twenty minutes he hadn’t passed it. This wasn’t possible.
Jaden turned around in a circle. It wasn’t that nothing looked familiar. The trouble was, everything looked familiar. All the buildings were so similar. He pulled out his phone. No charge. He felt panic rising up in him, but it was quickly replaced by something else: He was hungry, and that took precedence, as always. He sat down in a lot and ripped off a piece of bread, then ripped off a chunk of cheese and ate the two together. It was so good, he closed his eyes so he could concentrate on the taste.
Someone yelled, so he opened his eyes and saw a woman in spiky heels standing about ten feet away, hanging back as if he were dangerous. Jaden braced himself—for what, he didn’t know. He said, “Amerikanets,” and pointed at his chest. That stopped her for a second, but then she yelled “No gypsies!” in English. Sometimes in Romania he’d been called a gypsy by strangers, but he didn’t know if he really had gypsy blood or not.
Jaden assessed his situation. The cheese and bread were so good, he felt optimistic. He returned to the store yet again, then walked for eleven minutes at the same speed at which he thought he’d been
traveling in the first place. At eleven minutes he stopped and went left.
He kept going until a row of buildings stopped him. He didn’t have the slightest idea where to go now. He wondered: Would he now be able to escape from Penni and Steve, and was that actually what he wanted? Then he pulled out his dictionary again and found “I’m lost” in the phrase section. Ya zabludilsya. He spotted a watermelon vendor who he might or might not have seen earlier. He approached her and said, “Ya zabludilsya. Amerikanets.”
The woman said something to him, but he didn’t understand this either.
Jaden checked his dictionary again. “Politsiya?” Maybe the police could help him.
The woman pointed in a direction and said, “Politsiya.”
Jaden hated to go anywhere at all. He might end up even farther from home base. But he had no choice. “Spasiba,” he told the woman before he set off again. He walked and walked but didn’t see anything that seemed like a police station. He did come to a huge market, though, row after row of “stores.” Each store was basically four poles with a tarp or old wood on top. It reminded him of a flea market he’d been to once when he, Penni, and Steve were visiting relatives in California.
Jaden saw shoes, clothes, and linens. Also, there were women with scarfs on their head who were bent over beat-up sewing machines, mending pants or waiting for something to do. Near a music stand, a man as old as Sam was dancing to some Kazakh music that sounded like it’d been infused with a hip-hop beat. The old man was pretty spry and kept the beat with his feet very well.
Then Jaden saw what he thought was a security guard also watching the dancing. The man was dressed in camouflage and had a rifle slung over his shoulder. Jaden hurried to him.
“Amerikanets!” he cried out, pointing to himself. “Ya zabludilsya!”
The man peered around, as if searching for Jaden’s parents or for someone to help. He spoke in Russian to Jaden, but once again Jaden didn’t understand. He held out his dictionary, as if that would explain everything to the security guard.