"You really have to give this place a chance. Who knows you may actually like it here. This may be where you would finally call home" Helen said as she brought her hand to rest on mine even as I made to protest. She took her eyes off the road for a few seconds. Those brown eyes boring at me as she added "please promise me that you will at least try."
" Fine!, fine, I will, just focus on the road, but let it be on record that we are now even", I returned while draping my leg on the dashboard.
"I don't think it works like that," she continued "I saved your ass, so what you owe me is a life debt and those can't be repaid unless with a life save." Her eyes remained on the road and she swayed her body to the song playing on the radio.
It was 'Move your body' Alan Walker's remix by Sia. Helen may put up the responsible front which is typical of her job as a social worker, but I knew she was wild underneath those shirts and suits.
The best thing that happened to her was getting that divorce from her ex-husband, Dave. Even in her late forties, she was still beautiful with coppery hair, caramel eyes, freckles and lips always smeared in red. She had the kind of body that was perfect in all the right places.
Looking at her fluid movements, I noticed she looked younger. She always had a wild spirit and the divorce pulled the binds free, letting her spirit veer and soar like a kite in the winds.
She was the only thing I had close to a mom, though I never let her know how much she means to me. These two years I spent in the streets taught me that emotions and feelings get you killed and I wasn't taking any chances especially not after Tat.
When the song ended, she chuckled to herself, then she ran a thorough check on her appearance–her hair as she ran her palms at the sides, keeping sticked out parts restricted to the bun, her chocolate and cream striped shirt that she pulled and tucked into her brown skirt. She wanted to look every bit profesh and I understood why.
According to her, she met a relative of mine, my aunt who was a bestselling author. How she knew that this person was my relative, I don't know, but she said she had a feeling. A tug at her gut. And the resemblance aided too even though the last names were different.
This aunt of mine was known as Sarah Grove whereas I have never ever been associated with the name 'Grove'.
From one professional to another, Helen was really aiming for nothing short of perfection and responsibility.
For years I believed I was all alone in this world, orphaned at birth, left in Helen's front porch with a silver-chained pendant on my neck and a letter stating my name and a call for help in raising me.
I was with Helen and her family for three years before I got adopted by the Jenkins. They were nice, perhaps too nice, I allowed myself to believe they were my actual parents. That Helen was an aunt I stayed with until my real parents came for me.
With the Jenkins, I was all that mattered except Bum, their dog. His name was Chase until I came and renamed it 'Bum'. And since that day, he became Bum and just the four of us, we were… perfect.
Until I turned 6. At school I saw my friends with their brothers and sisters. Even our neighbors had more than one child. It bothered me cause I really wanted someone to speak to, someone to play with who was just like me.
I still remember the night I told the Jenkins, we were having pasta and meatballs. Mom-Mrs Jenkins was arranging the wares, Dad-Mr Jenkins had just finished chasing me around and was seated at his place at the table.
"Mom… Dad… uhmm… I have something to tell you. I… was… wondering if I could have a brother or maybe a sister. Don't get me wrong, I love Bum and you and you, but I want someone else to love." I toyed with my hands and my doggy-eyes were in full effect even as I struggled with the words.
I watched them exchange glances before they came to my seat. They knelt beside me, their eyes gleaming with the love I knew was meant for me. Mr Jenkins' hand was draped over Mrs Jenkins' shoulder as she took my hands in hers and began,
"Our sweet dearest Dove, you see… it's not that simple. It's not really up to us. We may try, but only God can grant you your request. So, why don't you ask him tonight during prayers"
"Why not? He answers our every request, doesn't he? Don't worry, I know he will answer this one." I chipped as I threw myself into their arms, even Bum came all panting and wagging his tail. We stayed like that until the pasta started burning.
A smile tugs at my lips as I recall that memory, only to be shadowed by scowl as I remembered what happened after.
Two months after I prayed, Mrs Jenkins took in and nine months later, Pete came into our lives.
He was so adorable with dark curly hair and irresistible blue eyes. We all loved him, but something was different. Something had changed. I told myself that they were showing him all the affection because he's still new to the family, after a week or two, things would return to normal. Mr Jenkins would still play teaparty with me. He would still take me on walks with Bum. He would still chase me around and tickle me until I'm red with laughter.
It won't be long before Mrs Jenkins would carry me in her arms while she cooked. She would still play dress up with me, still perk and kiss me whenever she got the chance. We would still dance and sing aloud on Thursday nights.
They would cuddle me until I fell asleep to their voices taking turns on bedtime stories. They would still kiss me goodnight after tucking me in. I would still be the center of their world.
Change, sometimes come swiftly sweeping you away from all you once knew. And sometimes, it comes like a snail leaving trails that become the new normal.
That was how Pete's birth changed everything. Kisses became few. Nights stretched longer while I waited for my bedtime story and tucking in, eventually falling asleep still waiting. I was never carried again. I was still chased occasionally and we still danced and sang on Thursday nights, but with their concentration only for Pete. Only my friendship with Bum remained unchanged.
By the time, I was 9, I became the villain. The one who was always making Pete cry. The one who hated Pete. The one to be blamed for anything bad that happened. The one who was never theirs. The one who never belonged. The Raven, no longer the Dove.
In spite of all these, I loved Pete. I would still play with him and tell him about my day. I still pushed him around in his miniature car until that day I accidentally ran him into a wall.
I had been pushing him from behind when I slipped and Pete's McQueen ran into the wall beneath the stairs. I grazed my knee, but it didn't matter, not when Pete had blood on his lips.
I remember trying to explain, but was never given an audience. I remember crying myself to sleep that night and I remember Helen coming the next morning.
I steal a glance at her now and heard her saying,
"... remember she's your aunt, your family, don't give her that your bitchy attitude and I promise you will like her. She's nice, or at least she sounded nice over the phone, but she has to be nice being your mom's sister and all. Unless you decide to push her to the wall, you know you have a knack for doing that, don't you? Just go easy on her and I won't be pulled from my vacation to come take you again. Hey, it's not funny, you really have to try and stay put here. I wasn't supposed to tell you this, but with everything that has happened over the years, the system was almost going to put you out even though you aren't 18 yet. I tried persuading them to hang on after all, it's remaining just two years and some months, but they remained unmoved by my pleas. Only finding Sarah Grove changed their minds, but that's not to say that if you mess it up, they would come running. So, try not to mess it up, please kiddo. I mean it."
Her voice has taken that tone of seriousness she often used with parents and her children. She wasn't playing and I will have to try to abide by her words and make it work here.
When I noticed that she was still looking at me, expecting a response, I mumbled,
"Not making any promises, but I will try."
"Typical Melrose, not taking things seriously enough, anyway…" she was saying.
I didn't catch her other words as the 'Welcome to RavenHurst' sign came into view.