Ignorance is Bliss
Full Summary: A young genius makes a huge mistake and starts a search for his real mother but it soon pulled into many dilemmas while searching for the dangerous woman he calls his birth mother.
Enjoy, my friends, and please let me know of any mistakes through reviews.
Peace and quiet fell over Sixth Street Orphanage on the night of September 11th, 2001. In a house of eighteen orphans and only one middle aged caretaker, peace and quiet is a miracle, a miracle that can only occur at quarter to eleven, when all the little ones who given up and let sleep take over. The caretaker, Mildred Duffy, was also tired and quietly getting ready for bed, washing her face, combing her hair, and all that. The news was playing in the background about what had happened early that day, which would be known from that day forth as 9/11.
Mildred was frazzled, scared, and shocked about the tragic events. Her town was only four hours away from Washington, D.C, and only three hours away from where the other plane had crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. That was much too close for Ms. Duffy. Midtown, Pennsylvania was located nice and comfy in country Pennsylvania, just between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia and near Pennsylvania State University.
The African American caretaker shuffled in her slippers towards the open window, which she pushed with great force to close. She didn't get the normal creak she was used to hearing. Instead, a terrifying noise reached her ears. A gunshot followed by the cry of pain from a man sounded outside the window on the street. Goosebumps erupted up her arms than she could hear the shuffle of little kids in pajama's running towards her room.
"Mildred!" they all screamed, running into the room. The little kids were there first, than the older ones.
"Was that a gunshot?" a ten year old red head asked.
"No, it was a firework!" a six year old yelled. Many others thing were shouted and Mildred couldn't respond.
"Let's go out there!" A eleven year old dare devil yelled and everybody else cheered, than followed before Mildred could yell, "Wait!"
Another gunshot was heard outside clearly over the yelling orphans. Girlish screams followed, but they didn't hesitate, only ran faster. Soon, they were all on the porch, Mildred trying to get to the front of the crowd. Other neighbors were coming out, too, having heard the gunshot. Mildred gasped at the scene right in front of the orphanage on the street.
Two people were there, one currently lying on the ground, the other above the fallen figure holding a gun. Mildred couldn't see clearly but could tell that the one was a gun was a young armed one was wearing an off-brown cloak which was falling off her head, light brown hair underneath. A spotlight was above them from the street light, like a scene in a play. The man was lying on the ground, two gunshot holes in his chest, blood slowly oozing out and forming a puddle around him. His chest unevenly heaved. After seeing all the witnesses crowding the scene, the girl took off running at an amazingly fast speed but kept the gun pulled in tight to her chest, like a precious treasure a pirate had stolen.
"Get her!" one of the older neighbors yelled. Two teenagers that were on the high school football team took off after her, but she was already gone. Many neighbors had run inside to call 9-11.
"Stay. Here," Mildred ordered the children and they did, nodding silently. Even they could understand the seriousness of the situation. An uneven silence fell over the street.
Cautiously, she walked down than over to the injured man. One gunshot was near his stomach, the other of his left breast, right where his heart was. A glassy look glazed over his blue eyes. His spiky red hair barely showed the blood that stained it.
"Oh, you poor man," Mildred cooed, then brushed back locks of hair from his sweaty face.
"I called the ambulance!" somebody yelled.
"Thank you!" Mildred yelled back. "Help is on the way." She said to the man, using some of her robe to clean off the sweat.
"Lewis," he groaned, each breath sounding painful. He focused his intense blue eyes on Mildred. "I need…to…see Lewis." Only than did Mildred think that the grown man looked a lot like her six year old blond orphan. He even had the same hair, stick up straight but red, but a different face with a more defined chin and a longer nose. The man also had many freckles. Mildred, being the nice lady that she was, let the dying man have his wish.
"Lewis?" she called. "Lewis, come here, honey."
"Me?" the bespectacled boy squeaked.
"Yes, dear, come over here," she said. Lewis did slowly, pulling away from the middle of the pile. He approached them. The man smiled, revealing his perfect white teeth, but than coughed, blood coming with that. Both of their eyes widened and Lewis took a step back fearfully.
"Lewis, my son," he whispered, barely loud enough for them to hear. With a lost hand, he reached towards the young boy, loosely clenching his fingers into a fist.
"Son?" Lewis said confused, looking between the dying man and Mildred. "I'm an orphan; I don't have parents." He said this with sad reluctance, than took a step back, eyes still wide with fear. Mildred grabbed Lewis's hand and the dying mans hand.
The man ignored Lewis's actions, than, with his open hand, reached into his blood stained white polo shirt. When his hand emerged, a crinkled picture was in his hand along with a golden locket hanging from a silver chain.
"Find her," the man wheezed, eyes closing. "Find…your mother." He grabbed the boys shoulders with a last bit of strength, digging his nails with surprising force into Lewis's shoulders.
"But-" the child whispered, tears of pain and maybe confusion in his young blue eyes, staring into the eyes of the wiser blue eyes, the dying blue eyes.
"Please, son, I'm sorry," he whispered, patting the side of Lewis's face. "I love you."
These were his last words to the world as he fell to the ground, blood slowly coming to a stop. A few tears leaked out of Lewis's eyes and Mildred cried, too. Lewis was more confused than sad, but his hands clenched into a small fist around the paper and locket.
"Lewis, go inside," Mildred said firmly as the cry of ambulance in the distance was heard.
"What was he talking about, Mildred?" Lewis asked, eyes still on the now dead man.
"I don't know, hun, now go inside," Mildred said. Lewis did so, only glancing back once, a strangled sound exiting his throat. Mildred pushed back some locks of red hair that was exactly like Lewis's.
Mildred glanced back at the departing orphan, his head bowed, glasses almost falling off his nose.
Could this man really be related to Lewis? Mildred thought, than gulped, a traitorous though entering her mind. And if this man is his father and was killed, could Lewis be in trouble to? And who was that woman?
The ambulance came a minute later. The man would be pronounced dead and, based on his Pennsylvania drivers license, he was William Vinson, age 35. He was pronounced dead. Lewis was quiet the rest of the night. The man looked so familiar, a familiar stranger. His voice, even though frail and gasping, rang through his young, clouded head as Lewis fell into a troubled sleep, the most in the orphanage to do so.
Peace and quiet fell over Sixth Street Orphanage on the night of Semptember 11th, 2001.
