Kelsey

It was cold. Bitter cold. Kelsey walked quickly, trying to keep warm. Her ears were freezing; they felt almost numb. Reaching up, she tugged her toboggan cap down over her ears, hoping it would at least shield her ears from the wind, if not warm them. Hiking her backpack higher on her shoulders, she listened to the crunch and squeak of her boots on the new snow.


She reached the foster-care center and hurried up the front steps, pausing for a moment to shake the snow from her boots. Tamping down the butterflies that threatened to flutter in her belly, Kelsey took a deep breath. A rush of warm air met her when she opened the door, and her exposed skin felt much colder in contrast. She hurried to shut the door and walked up to the front desk.

“Mrs. Dorran?”

She looked up from the paperwork she was reading and peered over the edge of her reading glasses. “Oh, Kelsey, hello.” Her smile looked tired. “You’re here to check on the placement in Montclair?” she asked as she removed her glasses.

Kelsey nodded, her lips pressed together. She so wanted to move, and yet she didn’t want to move again. She wanted a new family, but what if they were worse than what she had? She shivered. God, Your will be done. You know my heart.

Mrs. Dorran shook her head, her eyes crinkling with her sad smile. “I’m sorry, dear. It fell through.”

Kelsey exhaled, her eyelids sliding closed. Swallowing hard, she looked up again and met Mrs. Dorran’s eyes. “Okay. Thank you for trying.”

Mrs. Dorran nodded. “I’m sure something will work out soon.”

Kelsey made a faint attempt to smile and began backing towards the door. “You’ll call me if something works out?”

“Of course.” Mrs. Dorran nodded and smiled confidently.

Kelsey knew the social worker was putting on a brave face for her. There were too many teens in the system to get them all into good homes. Besides, most foster parents want little kids, not teenagers. Little kids are generally more adaptable, not to mention cuter. She sighed heavily. That was one of the reasons they were trying to find her a different placement. The Klassens, the ones fostering her at the moment, wanted a younger kid. Not a sophomore in high school.

She trudged along the sidewalk, her boots squeaking in the snow. A car whizzed past, and her eyes followed it without really seeing it.

She’d age out of the system in a couple years. They let you stay until you graduate high school. If you can graduate.

What would she do when she graduated? Try to get a job at a McDonalds, maybe, and find a dinky little apartment with rent higher than it was worth.

Kelsey sighed and kicked at a pile of dirty snow that a snowplow had piled on the edge of the sidewalk. She wanted to complain that it wasn’t fair. To rant to the sky that she didn’t deserve this, that her life should be different. But she knew better.

She took a deep breath, the cold air sharp in her lungs. Life wasn’t fair – she knew that. But she also knew that everything has a reason, and that you are here for such a time as this.

Shoving her icy hands into the pockets of her coat, she wiggled her numb fingers against the nylon lining. Knowing didn’t really help with feeling, more’s the pity. She paused by a lamppost and looked up at the sky now purple with dusk. Her breath clouded in the air and a tiny bit of winter struck her face. Half-smiling, Kelsey stuck out her tongue. Snowflakes were unique, just like people. They carried a message of death, and one of hope.

The wind was picking up, though, and it was getting late. She needed to get home. She made a face – it wasn’t home. It was just a place to stay. Would she ever be truly home?

The words of Jewel, a unicorn in C. S. Lewis’s Narnia, came to mind. “I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it until now.”

It was true. Kelsey sighed. She didn’t belong here anyway, so she never could really be home here on earth. Her allegiance lay in another country. She belonged somewhere else. No matter how hard she wished, it would probably be a long hard time before she could go home.

Tugging her cap over her ears again, she hurried off down the street. Her temporary home was waiting for her, and her temporary ‘parents’ would be getting worried if she was home, amend that, back, soon.





The pencil lead scratched softly on the paper as Kelsey bent over the page, humming tunelessly. Glancing up at the clock on her wall, she heaved a sigh and pushed her wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose. Turning back to her homework, she began writing again, but stopped after only a few words. She gave a small grunt of disgust as she stared in vexation at the blunt end of the pencil.

“Dull again,” she muttered, tossing it onto the desk where it clattered annoyingly. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face. As her bangs flopped back down, she leaned back against the chair, closing her eyes in weariness. It was so late, but at least she was almost done with her homework. Another glance at the clock goaded her to her feet.

She picked up the pencil and made her way, again, to Mr. Klassens’ office at the back of the house. She hated being a nuisance, but she had to sharpen her pencil. A light shone from the crack underneath door. She knocked hesitantly, standing first on one foot, then on the other. Finally, Mr. Klassen called, “Come in,” in his ‘I’m busy’ tone of voice.

Kelsey opened the door slowly. He sat in front of a classy black desktop computer, his fingers tapping the keyboard in front of him.

“What is it?” His tone was sharp and slightly annoyed.

“May I…” Her voice wobbled and she mentally glared at it. He was brusque, but that didn’t mean she had to be nervous. “May I sharpen my pencil?”

He leaned back in his leather desk chair. “Didn’t you just sharpen it a few minutes ago?”

As she stepped across the threshold onto the thick carpet, Kelsey shook her head. “No sir. I last sharpened it about an hour ago.” She walked over to the electric pencil sharpener on top of the file cabinet.

Frowning, Mr. Klassen looked at the digital clock on his desk. “What are you doing up, anyway? It’s ten-thirty. You should have been in bed an hour ago.”

The sharpener whirred and she winced at the noise. “Yes, sir.” She withdrew her pencil and blew on the tip to remove any loose shavings. “I’m finishing my homework.”

He frowned again. “You should have finished it already.”

She bit back her frustration. Didn’t he understand how much homework she had? “Yes, sir. But after school I checked in at the center, and when I got home I helped Mrs. Klassen with dinner. I couldn’t get to my homework until after I had washed the dishes, and I’m struggling with science, so it’s taken a while.” Maybe, just maybe, he might offer to help her… She dismissed the thought as soon as it appeared. No, workaholic Mr. Klassen couldn’t think of anything but business.

“Well, you need to get to bed.” He waved his hand, dismissing her. That rankled.

Kelsey walked to the door, staring at the plush rug under her feet. Rejection – why could she never inure herself to that feeling? She felt it often enough. She shut the office door behind her, and as it gave a soft click of finality, she heard the tapping of computer keys recommence.

Reentering her room, she set the pencil on her desk and walked over to the window. As she stared out over the wintry street, she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Dead grass showed in dark patches where the snow had melted earlier in the day, but now a hard frost crusted over the ground. At one end of the street, a streetlight flickered.

Shivering again, Kelsey rubbed her arms as she stared at her reflection in the window. Her reflection stared back, light glinting off her glasses. She gave another shiver and closed the blinds, shutting out the darkness, the cold, and the image of an insecure girl. After turning out the light, she made her way to her bed, massaging her tired face with her fingertips. She huddled between the cold sheets, trying to stanch tears until slumber claimed her.





Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEP. BEEP. BE-BE-BE-BE-BEEEEEP!

Groaning, Kelsey rolled over and slapped the offending alarm clock. She blinked at the LED numbers, sure she’d read the time wrong. No, she had read it correctly – it was an hour later than when she had set the alarm. Had she slept through the snooze, or was the clock faulty?

She sat up, shivering, holding the covers to her chin. Ugh, it was cold. She threw off the sheets and jumped out of bed onto the cold wood floor. After pulling on jeans and her warmest sweatshirt, she grabbed the homework she had been working on the night before, giving it a cursory check before stuffing it into her backpack.

The screeches of a smoke alarm and the smell of burnt bread drifted upstairs, and she knew that Mr. Klassen had burnt the toast again. She hustled downstairs, dropped the backpack by the front door, and walked to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” she greeted the Klassens with a strained smile.

Mr. Klassen gave a civil grunt without looking up from his Blackberry and toast.

Mrs. Klassen returned Kelsey’s smile as she poured herself a glass of orange juice. “Ready for school?”

Sliding onto a stool at the breakfast bar, Kelsey nodded. “Yes ma’am.” She wolfed down some toast and began making a sandwich for lunch. School was a brisk thirty-minute walk away, and she was pushing it for time. Finishing the sandwich, she zipped it into a plastic baggie and ran for the door. She snatched up her backpack and stuffed the sandwich inside, all the while telling herself not to panic. If she ran part of the way, she’d make it in time. Pulling on her coat, she hurtled out the front door.

Kelsey hurried through town, praying she wouldn’t be late. Jogging to the crosswalk, she looked both ways and stepped off the curb.

Loud sounds crashed into her consciousness.

Bright lights blinded her.

Everything exploded in pain.

Someone was screaming – and then she realized the sound came from her own throat. What had gone wrong?

Darkness seeped around the corners of her vision. She tried to process what had happened, but it was too had to think. Bright pain and dark oblivion shut out all else. She let go and the pain carried her away.





She had to wake up. She was going to be late for school.

Kelsey fought to open her eyes. Something was beeping – sharp, shrill beeps. They were faster now. She had to turn off her alarm.

She lifted her arm to hit the ‘off’ button.

Her arm refused to move.

She forced her eyes open. A jagged bright red line bounced across her field of vision.

She blinked slowly, trying to comprehend it. The beeping grew louder. As her eyes began to focus, Kelsey realized there were several graphs at the foot of her bed. Bright colored lines jerked frantically, the beeps growing closer and closer together as they grew louder.

A hospital? Was she in a hospital?

Drawing in a jagged breath, she winced. It hurt to breathe. Come to think of it, everything else hurt, too. She coughed weakly and fought to keep her eyelids open.

She heard a vague noise, like lots of people talking in muted voices. Her eyes drifted to the wall on her left. A picture hung there, splashing brilliant color against the stark wall.

A white shape stood silhouetted against a vibrant sunset.

A horse? She squinted. No, it had a horn. A unicorn?

Jewel?

She shut her eyes. What did Jewel say?

“My real country… home at last… I belong…”

Kelsey took a deep breath, fighting the pain. As she exhaled, her eyes drifted closed.

The next thing she knew, she no longer hurt. No pain, anywhere. It was gone. She opened her eyes to light – warm, comforting, pleasant. She looked around and her jaw dropped. With a radiant laugh, she ran across the soft grass into waiting arms.

Kelsey buried her face in His robe, breathing in the scent of life.

“I’m home,” she whispered, and laughed again. “Home at last!”