Where did I leave that bus ticket
I can’t stay here any longer
They just don’t understand me
I wish mom didn’t die…

Dodge City, Kansas…

Teddy Kubelski winced as he heard the front door open and close. Living in a home where he was misunderstood was painful enough; that they didn’t try hurt even more. He breathed a sigh of relief, hoping the peril had passed. A moment later his worst fears were realized as a “where is that fucking kid?” came from the living room.

He looked out the window and saw that his bike was leaning on the side of the house by the kitchen door, so escape such as it was would be on foot. If he was going to make the move, it had to be right then and there. He went to open the window when the bedroom door opened up. Standing there, all five-foot-six of him, was his foster mother’s son, Kenny Pollack.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re goin’?” Kenny asked as he grabbed Teddy by the scruff of the neck, pulling him back away from the window. Before he could answer, the young man threw Teddy against the wall next to the closet door, sending a model of a 57 Chevy Nomad crashing to the floor, shattering in more than a few pieces and stirring up the accumulated dust of seven years of neglect. The room had been Kenny Pollack’s when he had grown up, and it had been passed along to any boy unfortunate enough to land at the Pollack house through the foster system.

“Look what you fucking did, you little faggot.” That Kenny didn’t consider Teddy’s orientation mattered not; he just called every boy that his mother cared for a faggot. He grabbed Teddy and pushed him back against the wall.

“Where the fuck is my money?” Kenny said meanly but in a voice almost too soft to hear.

“I told you…they don’t give me the money…your mother gets it and she spends it.”

Kenny continued to get it wrong despite his mother’s twelve year history as a foster parent, which wasn’t lost on Teddy. If he hadn’t banged his head against an old nail right then he might have laughed at the irony. But then again, probably not. Instead, he began to cry.

“What a little shit…you calling my mother a thief?” Again the misconception took precedence over the obvious and Kenny hit Teddy in the mouth with a hard slap, causing his lip to bleed.

“Nnno…Just a second…please…” Kenny was about to hit the boy once more when Teddy reached into his pocket.

“Here…this is worth a few hundred dollars…my Mom gave it to me…”

His hands shook as he produced a plastic case with a 1972 Lincoln penny, double obverse; it was worth over $500. Its 1969 companion was worth in the neighborhood of $30,000. It was almost too sad and painful to part with, since it was the last connection he had to the past, and Kenny was taking it like it was just milk money. But two broken ribs (unattended) and a sore lip, plus a secret that would likely get the boy killed loosened the grip on his treasure.

“Fuck…what a fucking wimp,”

Kenny said as he tore the case out of the boy’s hand. And with that, he walked out of the room, laughing as he ignored the boy sitting on the floor against the wall, crying over one more loss in a brief but painful history of losses. Teddy’s mother had been killed in a car accident along with his baby sister Claire, and with no living relatives to adopt him he had been placed with the Pollacks only three months before.

In that short span of time, Kenny had stolen Teddy’s Zune and his cell phone, along with virtually every dime the boy had. It had been nothing short of miraculous that the young man hadn’t found his one supreme treasure. And he wouldn’t get the chance. The boy looked down the hall and saw Kenny walk out the door and drive off.

He wiped his face with his sleeve, scratching his lip in the process and pulling off the already-forming scab on his lip. The tears kept flowing. He felt he could stand another beating, but losing that coin was like losing his family all over again. He took a deep breath and looked around. Kenny had taken most of his clothes, so there wasn’t anything left to do but grab the twenty and the bus ticket he had hidden under the table lamp and head out the front door.

Greyhound Bus Station, Dodge City…

Teddy walked up to the ticket gate and smiled.

“Excuse me, please? Would you mind telling me when the next bus to Wichita leaves?” He asked. The clerk looked up and smiled; her wide toothy grin was a welcome sight after three months of hell.

“Six-thirty-five or so; depending.”

“Thank you very much,” Teddy returned the smile, evoking,

“You’re welcome, young lady.”

Teddy smiled once again and headed toward the door to wait outside. In the space of a half hour, his fortune had turned a bit as the flight he so long awaited had finally come, and the recognition she so longed for had finally arrived. She pulled her hoodie back, revealing nearly shoulder length blond hair; very unruly perhaps, but still long.

Wichita, Kansas…

Four hours later, she stood at the counter of the Riverside Cup of Tea. A young lady ages with Teddi came up and smiled; just another blessing among small blessings, but a blessing none the less.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m meeting a friend…Nancy Wadden?”

“Oh…that would be…” The girl grew red even as she smiled sweetly. A kindly looking woman, fortyish, came to the counter. The girl turned and spoke softly.

“This girl says she’s here to meet you, Daddy.” The girl giggled a bit; it never ceased to amuse her in a pleasant way.

“You must be Teddi. I’m Nancy. This is my daughter Janine.” The woman smiled and the girl beamed.

“Oh…I talked to you on the phone. I hope you like it here. You’ll be in my classes at school this fall, and I can introduce you to all my friends.” She smiled again and turned to help a customer. The woman stepped from behind the counter and led Teddi to a booth where they sat down. She smiled again; this was going to be alright, the girl thought to herself and the woman spoke once more.

“I’ve already talked with social services; they know about your situation, and I’ve got a nice couple from the Lutheran Church around the corner that you can stay with. Welcome home, Teddi… welcome home!"

The girl looked around and the tears began to flow, but for the first time in months they were tears, not of grief or pain but of relief and joy. She put her hand in her pocket and fingered the small plastic case … the 1969-S double obverse Lincoln penny secure in her hand. She sighed with a half-grin and pondered the woman’s words…

“Welcome home!”

Who am I?
Even after all this time?
Even when she loves me...
I wish I trusted my life

Department for Children and Families. Wichita, Kansas Years later, the Friday before a long Monday-Christmas weekend…

Teddi sat at her desk, one of six in several cubicles spread through the larger office. She had just finished a quick call to her supervisor when she heard her cell-phone beeping almost merrily to the happy lilt of Guaraldi’s rendition of Little Drummer Boy.

“Hey, Babe? Yeah. Just the one appointment. Same old, but…” She paused. Confidentiality is a dicey thing, but she never spoke to her partner in anything other than very general terms that focused on approaches and asking for support when things were stuck.

“Yes. I think thing will be okay. Just…” She paused and looked at the picture on her desk. A grand-motherly woman being kissed by her daughter and daughter-in-law. She nodded at the photo.

“Pretty much like me, Babe. Yeah. Get out the hankies and maybe some Merlot for when I get home? Give NanNan a kiss for me and tell her we’ll be over tomorrow afternoon? What? Oh yes. That dark Blue-Green shawl she likes? Got it all wrapped up. Love you, Janine! Kisses! …”

Even after so many years, she still doubted herself. So much of what she had been through as a child, both good and bad, had helped define who she had become. But that’s really how things are with everyone. We often see good things in others while missing those same good things in ourselves.
Teddi was as much like anyone else that she had ever wished for. Nevertheless, she still struggled with the feeling that she had nothing to offer, despite a wonderful family and a very helpful place in the lives of the families she helped.

She clicked off her cell phone and stared at the file on the screen before turning off the computer. She sighed and turned to the woman sitting at the desk to her left.

“I’ve got an appointment and then home. Merry Christmas, Leela. Give my best to your family.” The woman smiled back and returned her attention to the work on her desk.

Teddi looked around. Nearly every desk was clear, computers off and chairs pulled close. A few of her colleagues might actually be home already or on the way, but all too many would be working late into the evening, with some on-call and some pulled away from home to another sadly frequent Christmas-time crisis in some poor family’s home. She grabbed her purse and keys and stood up. Another sigh escaped her lips as she hoped the day would at least turn out well for the child she was about to meet.

Teddi stepped into the vestibule and smiled. Two figures sat on the long padded bench. The woman looked nervous. She rubbed the shoulder of the girl sitting next to her.

“Hi. Teddi Wadden.” She offered her hand.

“Oh… hi. I’m Rhonda McNair… We talked on the phone?” She stood up, but her hand lingered on the girl’s shoulder, a reluctant gesture.

“Yes. Normally we don’t handle these things this way.” The woman looked around the vestibule and then over her shoulder through the open door to the offices beyond. The girl shook anxiously on the bench and Teddi noted that the girl’s face was marked by tear tracks and a black eye. She knelt down in front of the girl, gaining her attention.

“I’m sorry… your name. sweetie?”

“M…Mmmm….” She burst into tears. Teddi already knew the girl’s name from her conversation with Rhonda.

“I…. I didn’t know what to do. She’s been coming over to my place almost every day. You can see….” Rhonda wasn’t someone given to public displays of emotion, but the child’s predicament was too much even for her and she sat down again and pulled the girl into a hug as she began to cry as well.

“Listen? It’s almost noon. Why don’t we all go over to Bionic Burger for some lunch?” Teddi stood up and waited a few moments before offering her hands to Rhonda and the girl. As the girl stood up, Teddi leaned close and spoke softly; no in a whisper but with a quiet, almost soothing voice.

“We’re going to make sure you’re safe, honey, okay.” The girl shook her head; not in disagreement so much as a worry that her hopes and wishes were just that. Teddi leaned even closer. She turned to Rhonda as if to ask permission for what she was about to say, since they had discussed how to broach the subject gently. Rhonda nodded and Teddi spoke.

“Miss Rhonda and I talked yesterday after you came to her. I know your name, sweetie, and I know exactly how you feel about it.” At her words the girl shook her head furiously. She stared at Rhonda and stammered.

“How…you promised.” She shook a bit and Teddi grabbed both her hands. The gesture was almost magical as the girl’s shaking stopped. She looked up into Teddi’s eyes and saw that the nice lady holding her hands was beginning to cry softly. That alone was at least enough to nudge her into a small measure of trust.

Teddi paused, reluctant but conscious of the sad need for acknowledgment she was about to make.

“Your name … the one you have now? I know you hate it, and no, Miss Rhonda didn’t tell me. I just know because I hated my name when I was your age. When only my Mommy knew. I like my name now, but that’s just me.” The girl still wept, but her shaking had stopped altogether at the sound of Teddi’s voice and the touch of Rhonda’s hand on her shoulder once again.

“So, I guess the first question I have for you…Mark?” She said the name as softly as she could. Teddi recalled a scared teen years ago who had felt almost the same way. The girl put her head down as shameful tears fell from her face, but the mention of her name had to be a bridge of understanding that made the question even more important. In saying the hated name one last time, the girl was given the chance to permit herself to bid that part of her goodbye in a way. She felt Teddi’s hand lift her chin gently.

“What name do you call yourself, honey? Not what anyone else says. What is your name?” Teddi smiled broadly, her expression one of inclusion and hope. The girl paused and thought, as if mentioning her name was wrong. The bruise under her right eye was only one of a series of brutal rebukes by her step-father, and the mere mention of her name always led to hurt, both outside and in. Nevertheless, the smiles on both Teddi’s and Rhonda’s faces coaxed what little trust remained in the hopeless child to emerge and she spoke at last.

“My name….my name is Clare.”

Teddi put her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. She stooped down on one knee and pulled the girl into an awkward hug, speaking softly, recalling with only a bit of remaining sadness over the deaths of her baby sister and her mother so many years ago.

“That is such a beautiful name. Clare is a beautiful name.” She stood up and smiled again. Clare reached into her pocket and handed Teddi a small pack of Kleenex, evoking an even broader smile from Teddi, who accepted the gift almost eagerly. She nodded and pulled a tissue from the pack and wiped her tears before saying at last,

“Well, Miss Rhonda? Miss Clare? Let’s go get some lunch!”

To be continued...