Author: ekakpuc
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own anything other than any original characters I concoct in my warped little mind.
Part One - Bobby
Evelyn Mercer sighed as she tidied the paperwork on her desk. It was well gone 11pm and she was only just getting ready to finish her shift.
One of these nights, she thought to herself, I'll be home at nine.
Just as she was buttoning her winter coat the office phone rang.
She groaned.
"Hello, Shawnhouse Adoption Agency, Detriot." She answered.
"Evelyn? It's Sue-Lyn, I'm so glad I caught you."
Evelyn sighed. "I'm just locking up. What's up Sue?"
"I got a kid here, just been kicked out of his latest foster home. I don't know what to do with him, especially at this time of night."
"Sue, it's after 11!" Evelyn groaned.
"I know Evie, I just don't know what else to do! You're my last hope!"
Evelyn rolled her eyes. She was always everyones last hope in this place. Sometimes she thought she was the only person in the district capable of rehousing unwanted children.
"Ok Sue, I'll come pick him up. I'm sure I can find somewhere for him tomorrow."
"Oh, you're a complete star Evelyn Mercer!"
Evelyn smiled at the teenage boy in the passenger seat of her sedan. He hadn't spoken a word since she had picked him up.
He just stared straight ahead. He had a blackened eye and a swollen lip.
"Come on inside," Evelyn said warmly, "We'll make some supper."
As she climbed out, the young boy cautiously followed suit. He kept one step behind her all the way in, through to the kitchen.
He slowly removed his beaten bomber jacket as he looked around the room, wide eyed.
"This is a nice place you got here lady." He said.
"SO IT SPEAKS!" Evelyn laughed.
The boy grinned slightly. He looked around at the ornaments and photgraphs adorning the house.
"You a hippy or something lady?" He asked, touching a porcelain statue of Bob Marley.
"Oh, I have been called that before." She grinned, as she put on the kettle.
"So, do you prefer Robert or Rob?"
"Bobby." The boy said instantly.
"So, Bobby," She smiled, "You wanna tell me how you got those bruises on that pretty face of yours?"
Bobby walked lifted himself onto the kitchen counter, looking at his feet.
"The other kids in the house...they ain't so nice to me..."
"How do you mean love?" Evelyn asked, as she offered him the cookie tin.
"They made fun of me," Bobby began, taking a cookie. "See, they all got parents they see. I don't got none."
Evelyn sighed. Some kids could be just horrible.
"So I beat them."
She almost laughed. Typical.
"What age are you Bobby?" Evelyn asked, pouring two cups of tea.
"I'm thirteen years old mam." Bobby stated, hopping down from the counter. "Just last month."
"Ooh. Did you get anything nice?"
She looked round at the boy. He shook his head.
She sighed. She knew that not all foster families treated kids like thier own. She just didn't understand how the couldn't; she always had.
How about I make us something to eat then we can get to bed. It'll be a long day tomorrow.
Bobby nodded and smiled a cheeky grin.
It was past 1am and Bobby still couldn't sleep. He stared around the bedroom.
The room had been decorated as a spare room obviously; most likely for stray kids to spend the night, Bobby thought.
He stroked the soft pjammas he wore. He couldn't remember the last time he had nice clean clothes.
This Evelyn lady was being so kind and generous. More than Bobby felt he deserved.
He'd never had real parents. His mother had abandonded him when he was only a few days old, and he'd been shunted around ever since.
The longest he'd ever stayed with one family was six months.
He lay down in the warm soft bed, still stroking the pjammas that wrapped his body in warmth.
Evelyn looked over at the waiting room. Bobby was lying on three seats, his eyes closed, dosing softly.
She had spent the last 8 hours trying to find a foster home for him, but no one wanted to take him in.
It seemed his reputation exceeded him.
Violence. Theft. Arson.
Oh yes, she thought, little Bobby is a right little firecracker.
He seemed such a good boy, underneath it all, she thought.
As she read through his file she felt her heart go out to the boy.
Never knew his parents. Had lived with more foster parents than any other child she knew.
Had spent two years living on the streets.
This was going to be difficult.
Three nights later, as Bobby entered Evelyns guest room, he looked at a small box on the bed.
He approached it suspiciously. He noticed his name on gift tag.
He lifted it carefully.
Happy Birthday Bobby, it read. Love Mom.
Bobby felt his heart jump slightly as he opened the small box.
He lifted a slender silver chain from the box and inspected the pendant which dangled on it.
The shiny St. Christopher glinted in the light as Bobby slipped the chain over his neck.
"Bobby, dinners ready hon" A voice called.
"Coming...Mom." Bobby smiled.