The boy nobody loved - Chapter 5

The home for abandoned children

One day, the man picked up Angel.  They left the house.  The man walked.  He took a bus.  Then walked some more.  Eventually they arrived at a big house, with big steps at the front.  The house was well lit.  It had big windows and big doors, and it seemed to be bustling with activity.

He pushed the door open and walked in with the little boy.  A group of women in black clothes and veils welcomed him. 

He spoke.  “Here, I brought my son, as agreed.  How much money can you give me?” An old nun replied to him: “What do you mean?  If you cannot look after your child, we can take him.  But we don’t buy children”.  He uttered: “I spoke with the other nun, and she said she would give me some money”.  “We can give you a little bit of money if you need, but for food for you and your family, not as a payment for the child”.  He shrugged his shoulders and extended his open hand to receive the money before he would let the boy go.  She gave him a few coins.  He was angry.  That wasn’t enough.  The nuns ganged up on him.  They took the little boy by the hand and pushed the man out of the door.

One of the nuns took Angel’s hand and led him through a set of doors, a long corridor, up a staircase to the first floor.

Here there were row after row of cots.  While there were so many cribs, there was also a lot of space.  The beds were in the middle of a huge room, and there was plenty of space to walk around.  He was placed in one in the middle.  To his right there were some huge windows.

He only spent a short time in this place.  Yet this was his best experience to date, and probably of his whole life.  There were different sounds.  A new sound he learnt to recognise as laughter was plentiful in this place.  There were other children.  Although he could hear them, he did not really see them.  Everyone looked ghostly to him, as if they were not there.

The home for abandoned children

 

He didn’t interact with anyone.  He used to just sit in his cot.  Gradually, he became less and less bewildered.  Fear seemed to become a distant memory.  He used to love to sit in his cot, busking in the plentiful sunlight that would fill the room.  The rays of sunshine looked like solid lines of light that would bounce against the walls and dither in the abundant speckles of dust.

This was a good place.  He begun smiling.  Rocking on his bed, humming a little tune.  It wasn’t a tune really.  It was four descending tones.  Repeated rhythmically.  He would spend the whole day smiling, rocking, and humming.  He was happy.  He was a pleasure to watch.

One day a couple came to the room.  It was the first time.  Only nuns had been up there until now.  And he had only had contacts with nuns. 

The voices were indistinct to begin with.  As the people approached, their conversation became clearer.

The nun was saying “… well children are supposed to be lively … but this one is a quiet one, he just sits around all day … “and she hastened to add “but that is not normal!”.  The man was adamant that he wanted a “quiet” child.  The ones he saw so far would not do. 

They approached the cot and attracted the little boy’s attention.  He stopped humming and rocking and gave them a big ear-to-ear smile.  The woman said “yeah, I want this one!”.  The man just looked sternly.  Coming here was obviously not his idea.  He didn’t like it.  He had to do it.  Maybe he made a promise that she could have a child.   

The nun said “Sure but be aware that he will need some special attention.  We think he is traumatized.  He is responsive but does not mix with the other children”.  The man responded abruptly: “I am a teacher; I know how to deal with children”.  The woman smiled and said: “We can take care of him”.

The deal was done.  They went to the office to deal with the paperwork.