Chapter two
The late afternoon, in between afterschool chores and dinner, is my favorite time of day. The shadows are just beginning to lengthen, and the kids play on the expansive fields behind the mansion. I can't see Hollow Lake from my perch here on the back steps, but I know that it's just beyond the bucolic plateau, at the base of small cliff. I would love to sneak off and see the sunset, crimson and gold against the inky lake. In all honesty, this part of England, particularly Shyroe, is extraordinarily beautiful. Hollow Hill looks out upon seemingly endless miles of fields and hills and forests, but it is only about 5 miles from the mansion to the nearest town, Shyroe. A bit too far to conveniently walk, but not far enough to justify rousing the ancient automobile. All the kids walk to school, even now, in the winter. And most weekends the older children are permitted to go into the village. I've abstained from theses trips so far, instead exploring the ancient, stately mansion. It wasn't always an orphanage, in fact I think they only converted it about 25 years ago. In the west wing, there are still several unused bedrooms, empty except for old portraits of beautiful girls in outdated dresses. The rooms have the air of a deserted museum, as if everything was left there for a reason, and nothing should be touched.
All in all, it's an odd setting for an orphanage, but most of the caretakers and nearly all of the kids seem to love it. Many of the near-eighteen year olds, like Megan, plan on working as caretakers here after they outgrow their "ward-of-Hollow-Hill" status. I can imagine that it's not a bad place to grow up. I guess they don't feel stifled, surrounded by beauty and the expansive, now star-studded sky.
The night is even more beautiful from the roof, where the terrifically cold winter air makes every starry detail of the sky sharper, clearer. Megan and I live in a small room, on the top floor, where the roofs of the lower levels jut out, forming a nearly flat, 7 foot perch under our window. I had dreamed of a room like this in New York, where I could lie against the roof tiles and admire the purity of the sky, in all of its glory. However, perhaps the greatest feature of our upper-story room is the outdoor fire escape, located several feet to the right of our window. I noticed it on my fourth night at Hollow Hill, but I was afraid to test it out, or even touch it in case it was rusted through and would detach from the side of the mansion. The next morning, after awakening early from another unpleasant dream, I examined it to find very little corrosion, and the ladder ends near enough to the ground so I won't risk life and limb dismounting it. It's depressing that I found the perfect way to sneak out when I have no place to sneak off to.
Megan joined me on the roof perch. She, actually, was the one to show it to me. It was very nice of her, especially considering that she could have easily resented me; before I came, she had the room and this roof to herself. Megan strikes me as a very considerate, gentle girl. She's so looking forward to turning 18, when she can graduate from ward-status and shoulder some caretaker responsibilities. To be honest, it's a bit hard for me to relate, but we've developed a sort of quiet comradeship over the weeks I've been here.
We sit side by side without talking for a bit, but eventually she breaks the silence. "Do you miss New York?" she asks.
"Mm? Oh. Yeah. I mean, it's beautiful here. Really beautiful," I began, trying to figure out how to translate my emotional wounds into English. "And everyone is so nice," I continued, throwing her a small smile. "But it could never feel like home."
"You haven't given it a chance. You don't even try to get to know any of the other wards, and you haven't even gone with us to Shyroe. I bet if you were willing to just try, even just a bit, you might not be so miserable, and you certainly won't feel isolated."
I guess I hadn't given Megan enough credit. Gentle and perceptive. She would certainly make a great caretaker. I digested her words for a while. "I guess I just see this as a short stop. Like a glitch or something," I felt awful after saying it, but it was true. I didn't feel at home because I wasn't letting myself.
Luckily Megan laughed. "That's exactly your problem," she said. "Why don't you come with us tomorrow? To Shyroe? I'm sure it's got nothing on New York City, but we could show you around. Its nice, it really is," she encouraged.
"Alright," I agreed. "Alright."
