The Lost Boy

the other foster children.
    Even though Teresa was severely scolded and grounded to her room after school that day, I remained silent. I didn’t steal from Aunt Mary’s home for the thrill of it, but only to have a ready-made storage of food in case I ever became hungry.
    It didn’t take long for Aunt Mary to discover that I was the one responsible for the missing food. From that moment on, Aunt Mary eyed me carefully around her home and did her best to restrict my afternoon adventures. At first I felt ashamed because I had betrayed her trust and kindness. But on the other hand, I simply didn’t care what “Old Maid” Aunt Mary thought of me. My only concern was total acceptance by the older foster children.
    My welcome at Aunt Mary’s was probably worn out even before the first week of July, when I was placed in my first permanent foster home. Just as before, when the police officer had driven me to Aunt Mary’s for the first time, I couldn’t wait to see the new home. My new foster mother, Lilian Catanze, greeted Ms Gold and me at the door. As I followed Mrs Catanze and Ms Gold up the wide, open stairs that led into the living room, I tightly clutched a brown grocery bag containing all my worldly possessions. The night before, I made sure to pack my bag and keep it close to my side.
    I knew from experience that if I left anything behind, I would never see it again. I was shocked when I first witnessed the foster children who transformed into frenzied piranhas whenever a child left Aunt Mary’s home. Within seconds of the child’s departure, the others would swarm through the room, checking under the bed, in the closets and through the clothes hamper – everywhere – searching for clothes, toys or other valuables. The ultimate prize was to find a stash of money. I quickly discovered that it didn’t matter whether the thieves needed or even desired the items. Possession of an article, any article, meant trading power for other things -household chores, late-night desserts or an exchange for money. As usual, I adapted quickly, and joined in the hunt whenever a child left. I learned that rather than walking a child to the car and wishing him or her good luck, I would instead say my good-byes in Aunt Mary’s home … and then stay close to the departing child’s room so I could have a head start on the other kids. But as a sign of respect, we all knew to never enter a room until the child had left. I also learned that deals were usually made the night before, and as a courtesy the roommate would get first dibs. So I, too, would give away a few shirts and a couple of toys.
    As I began to imagine the other foster children ransacking my old room, I heard Mrs Catanze ask, “Well, David, what do you think?”
    Still holding my bag, I shook my head up and down before saying, “It’s a very nice house, ma’am.”
    Mrs Catanze waved a finger in my face. “Now, we’ll have none of that. Everyone here calls me either ‘Lilian’ or ‘Mom.’ You may call me ‘Mom.’”
    I again nodded, but this time at both women. I didn’t feel comfortable calling Mrs Catanze, some lady I just met a few moments ago, Mom.
    As the two ladies chatted for several minutes, Lilian leaned close to Ms Gold, hanging on her every word and shaking her head from side to side. “No contact? None at all?” she asked.
    “Correct, ” Ms Gold replied. “David is to have no contact with his mother or his brothers, unless Mrs Pelzer makes the arrangements.”
    “And the father?” Lilian asked.
    “Not a problem. He has your number and should be calling you soon. David’s father did not make it to the court proceedings, but I’ve kept him informed of David’s status.”
    Mrs Catanze leaned a little closer to Ms Gold. “Anything special I need to know?”
    “Well, ” Ms Gold began, “David is still in the adjustment phase. He’s a bit hyper and into everything – and I mean everything. He’s a bit light fingered, if you know what I mean.”
    Sitting on the couch, I acted as if I were not paying attention, but I could hear every word.
    “David, ” Mrs Catanze said, “why don’t you wait in the kitchen, and I’ll be with you in just a few moments.”
    As I followed Mrs Catanze into the kitchen, I still held on to my grocery bag. I sat by the table and drank a glass of water as Lilian closed the sliding door, separating the two rooms. I could hear Mrs Catanze sit back down, but the two women started whispering. I watched