The orphanage was as one would expect. The children were lonely and showed loneliness through rebellion, the adults were busy and showed business through ignorance and the rest of the world turned a blind eye and showed their blindness through the perpetually drying funds their aid supplied.
The building itself suggested a less blind, more love-filled and caring era. The building was spacious and accommodated everybody quite comfortably. Unfortunately (for most of the orphans), this meant more cleaning and larger chores. But the Gothic exterior and aged but functional interior were home to many and nobody had an alternative.
Today, however, was a day Levi had come to expect the least. Somebody was looking for a child to adopt. This was the first potential adoption in all of Levi's memory. There was an old man and a young girl. The girl must have been about his age, Levi surmised, and wondered if she had had to give somebody up for adoption. Despite his hopes, even his generation had stupider elements. But the father did not look angry. It would be bad if the father was not the girl's father, but the father of that poor victim of the house he grew up in.
Then, against all his imaginings, Levi found that the father was a candidate foster parent and the girl would be a foster sister.
Petra had a different take on the day. To her, she was watching a home invasion and did not have the power to stop it. She tried. She wheedled, she begged, she screamed, she cried, she argued, she ranted, she complained, but worst of all, she understood. It was her father's decision to make and she agreed that the recently emptied third seat looked odd at the dinner table. But a sibling would not replace her mother.
She let the invasion happen merely because she knew her father needed it. She knew that she had failed, that in her eyes he saw his wife and in her occasional tears or uncontrollable brooding stares he felt empathy, but she did not need another human being sharing all that was hers to symbolize that. But Peter Ral thought it would help, and that was how things tended to happen.
"Missy here isn't convinced about adoption." Peter said to some suited person as they sat in a small, red-bricked and dimly lit conference room. All three sat down as the suited man observed Petra.
"How so?" The man asked, concluding his inspection and not at all surprised.
"Surely you know." Petra grumbled. "With the line of waiting foster parents outside."
"Know thine enemy, they say. What aren't you convinced about?"
"It's not so much as not convinced – I'm sure your system is quite effective – as it is that I don't want it to happen."
Folding his lip downward, condescendingly seeming impressed by Petra's rationality, the man nodded and said: "I can't do anything about that."
Peter nodded. "Walk me through the process though – I have never had to do this."
"Of course. Today you get to meet everybody. We'll narrow down the list and you get to do the final winnowing. Once that is done, you get paperwork and then a child."
"Is there anything special if there's a sibling involved?"
"Paperwork and a pamphlet."
"The perfect system." Petra grumbled.
"Well, for the first parameter: do you have a gender preference?" The man ignored Petra deftly.
"Not really."
"Age?"
"Becoming a year ten next year."
"Is that her age?" The man indicated Petra.
"Yes."
"I see." The man turned to leave. "Please wait a minute." He returned with a laptop and unfolded it. "I just have to pull up our roster." The man typed away, clicked and the stared at the screen. "Only three people meet the criterion."
"Any girls?" Petra asked, allowing a small amount of hope in her voice.
"Three boys." Petra frowned.
"So, now what?" Peter asked with some enthusiasm.
"Well, you meet them. They'll come down here and present themselves."
"Present?" Petra snorted, wondering how the poor orphans would manage that feat.
"Yeah, they'll have something short to say, and we'll move from there."
In two minutes, the first candidate boy came down. After a rhetorically weak whine of a speech: some general "I'll be good, I swear" combined with a "I'll do the dishes" and many other things, the boy left. Petra stared at her father and smiled a small bit when he nodded a no.
A minute later the next boy walked in. He also drawled in a similar way. Levi stood outside and felt better in knowing that the unfortunate family only had to deal with three orphans. This friend's prattling would probably earn him the house – Levi knew to expect that unpredictability from most people.
The boy walked out and Levi's eyes followed him. "I sense a pattern." He heard as he waited the required minute.
Levi entered after a minute. "Name's Levi." He mumbled. Then he stood there.
"Don't you have more to say?" Petra prompted, a few seconds in. "Aren't you a clean freak or professional at dishes? And wouldn't you just love to leave this place?"
"As a matter of fact, no. I think I don't know how family works and I really don't want to know."
"Why not?" Peter said.
"My only family rejected me, so I guess I did something."
"I think they did." Peter said.
"So, you're willing to experiment?" Levi mused.
"I think you'll be fine."
"It will take effort."
"You're honest, you don't make promises you won't keep, you know your weaknesses, so I think you'll do very well." Peter smiled. "What do you think, Petra?"
"Also the only person we talked to." Petra said. "I don't mind much."
"The fallacy of pretending not to care." Levi mumbled.
"Hey! I'd be your sister, so you'd best not start by antagonizing me. Besides, I have reasons."
"Look at you two! Arguing already!" Peter joked.
"Should I tell the office that you've seen all of us?" Levi said.
"And we have a decision, right?" Petra shrugged as Peter looked at her to corroborate his statement. "Yes, tell them that."
Levi left, with a slight skip in his step despite his previous words.
Paperwork, Peter Ral quickly learned, was the bane of all existence. Humans were not designed to tabulate data onto papers or check boxes about their lives or summarize the specifics into a short blank. Yet, that was paper work. It was the false assertion that a life could be converted to a piece of paper, that the tone of the checked words did not matter, only the denotation did.
After a short miracle and a fortnight, Peter Ral was back at the orphanage and submitted the papers. In return, he quickly got Levi. That did, however, mean the Petra could not be there – she was at school. She was only informed of the presence of her new brother through a text message.
That afternoon, therefore, she was not pleased. She practically stormed into the house and sighed. "Hello." Levi said, noticing his new sister's entry.
"Do you start school tomorrow?" She sighed.
"Yes."
"I'll have to show you the bus. Did you get a uniform?"
"Yes."
Petra smirked. "Welcome to normal."
"Thanks."
It was that night that Petra knew that in her welcoming, she lost normal. Tucked in and reading, she was surprised to hear a knock on her door. She looked up, sure that the entry was open, and found Levi. She sighed, reminded of her changed reality.
"I wanted to talk." Levi said.
"About what?"
"Your attitude. I was wondering if there was anything I could do to-"
"I think it's obvious."
"Besides that."
"Not that I know."
"Do you even… hate me?"
"I'm uncomfortable."
"What?"
"You're the first boy to ever be there." Petra's eyes indicated the square foot Levi's feet occupied. "And I have to live with you. I don't like feeling forced into it."
"I'm sorry."
"Really? You don't have to be."
"Then who does?"
"Nobody. It'll all be better when you and I get to know each other."
"How would you-"
"Conversations. We'll be living practically the same lives, so you'll see a lot of me. If you want anything quicker, I'm open to suggestions."
"I don't know people."
Petra smirked. "That other hurdle."
After a silence, Levi said: "good night. And thank you for… trying." Levi fumbled to find the perfect diction.
"Anything for my dear brother." Petra sliced with her words. "See you tomorrow."
(And so begins a new fic...
I'll be publishing this in multi-chapter parts.
Have fun!)