Wendy's wish

This is my entry for the week of 9-22-02 for the

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The prompt was:
Your story or poem is about a chance of a lifetime and includes a raincoat, a wish, and a shy brown haired girl. Your story takes place in the Fall.

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Wendy's wish

Today was like any day, overcast, with a high chance of rain, the weather report that blared over the radio as I made my way through the traffic seemed all too familiar for this time of year. Autumn was upon us and that usually meant grey and wet weather for the next few months. I particularly enjoyed this time of the year for it's peaceful nature. Many people preferred escaping to places still teaming with life and sun, and the few that were left couldn't be bothered by such torrential rains as we had been getting lately. The city was quiet and serene. As I pulled up to the curb the familiar aroma of freshly baked rolls filled the air. I was going to buy a cake this morning, for it was my birthday, not a particularly happy birthday, and I didn't feel much like celebrating this birthday with my friends. I enjoyed spending as much time with them as possible, but today I wanted to be alone. All of my girlfriends seemed to have their lives perfectly on track with their goals, happily married to wonderful husbands, growing families, nice jobs. It was just a few days ago that I was strolling down this very street with one of them. I couldn't help but notice the way she looked at her daughter, a feeling I had longed to have myself, that devotion, the love that a mother has for her child. All these thoughts swept into my mind as I entered the bakery to pick out a small treat for myself on this day. I haven't reached any of my goals, I thought to myself.

Single, alone, and with no prospects of a serious relationship in view, that didn't seem to bother much today, it was the thought that had haunted me for the last several years, having a child of my own, that seemed to disturb me the most. It had occupied my mind more than any other thought for quite some time now. Another year has gone by, and I'm still no closer to having a child than I was a year ago. That thought was disturbing enough to make me break out in tears, as I peered into the glass covered shelf looking for something to indulge my palate with. I wiped my tears dry and made my way to the door, without having chosen anything from the delightful bakery. I thought to myself How could I think of food at a time like this! As I opened the door, I could barely make out the silhouette of my car in the downpour. I held my arm over my head as I jumped around the wet pavement looking for the shallowest of puddles to get to the vehicle. My eyes still full of tears I could feel myself fall to pieces over the thought of never being a mother at all. I stopped for a light and noticed to my left an alleyway, laden with dumpsters and trash containers it was used as the back door to the bakery and restaurants that lined the streets. I had never really paid much attention to this area before, as I've lived here my entire life, I know these streets blindfolded. Something had caught my eye, it was barely visible in the torrent of rain, but I could make out a small little yellow mass bundled up in a corner, under one of the door canopies. I dried my eyes and wiped the window clear and noticed it seemed to be trembling. I wasn't sure what I had seen, but I was going to find out. I pulled into the alley and parked the car glancing over to where I had first spotted the shivering bundle of yellow. As I approached, I could see that it was a child, in a yellow raincoat, hooded over to protect from the rain, the only thing I could make out was a long lock of wet brown hair as it lifted it's head. From under the hood, emerged the face of a pretty young girl, once she noticed I was there, she lifted off the steps and scampered behind one of the dumpsters nearby. What in the world is such a helpless young child doing out in these conditions, I thought. Where are her parents. I looked around but could see no one. I walked over curious as to her condition. “Are you ok?” I asked.

She nodded her head ever so slightly under the hood that hid her face from view.

I kneeled down slowly trying to get a glimpse of her “Why are you out here in this terrible weather?" I whispered.

She timidly lifted her quivering head from her arms that were tightly wrapped around her knees and said, "I don’t got nowhere else to go"

I was astonished at her response, How could such a young girl, not have anywhere else to go but this dirty trash ridden alley? I thought.

With the smell of food emanating from the nearby restaurants, I noticed my stomach turning. It was well past the hour I was used to having dinner. “Are you hungry?” I asked softly. She looked at me hesitantly and with a simple nod of her head, I knew she was. “I’m hungry too, would you like to go get something to eat with me?”

Timidly she arose from her position, and our faces met, she was shy wet and trembling, and dared not to look straight at me. I stretched out my hand, in a gentle and caring manner. She placed her hand in mine. I could feel how small her hand was inside of my own, and off we went around the corner to the closest restaurant we could find.

Drenched with rain, we entered the establishment, and the aroma of freshly made chicken soup floated through the air. “Uuummm, that smells delicious!” I exclaimed. I glanced over to see the girl nod in agreement.

When the waitress approached, I noticed the girl sitting across from me in the booth, slide into the corner, away from her, as she asked "My name is Betty. What can I get for you this evening?”

I whispered “Do you like chicken noodle soup?”

She nodded.

“Two chicken noodle soups and a couple of rolls please,” I responded to Betty.

Once the woman had stepped back behind the counter, the girl, looked up at me, with an inquisitive look. “It’s ok, don’t be scared, baby,” I said, as if answering her. “My name is Caroline. What’s your name?” I added.

“Wendy,” she replied with a shaky soft voice.

“Nice to meet you Wendy, I’m glad I don’t have to eat alone tonight,” I added.

I could see a smile start to take shape, as she said “Me too.”

When the waitress brought over the tray with the bowls of soup steaming with flavor, Wendy’s eyes opened wide with anticipation as they were placed down in front of us. I could see the steam rising from the brothy soup, and the noodles swirled around the bite sized chicken pieces. It wasn't long before she had slurped down the entire bowl and with her last bite of bread, she wiped the bowl clean of any trace of flavor. Slouched back into the booth clearly satisfied and gleaming with delight, she looked at me appreciatively, not daring to speak a word, unless asked.

Her words kept repeating in my mind, like an old record snagged on a verse I don’t have anywhere else to go.

I asked “Where are you from Wendy? Where are your parents?” She looked down at the floor, as if to avoid answering. “Do you live around here,” I added. Without lifting her head she mumbled “I ain’t got a home. I live a’the orphanage outside th’ city.” pausing breifly she then asserted “buu-ut, I ain’t goin’ back there ag’in, I don’t like it there!” Tears starting to fill her eyes and roll down her rosy cheeks.

“It’s ok Wendy, please don’t cry,” I uttered.

“Would you like to know a secret?” I asked. Her tears slowly fading, she nodded excitedly.

“Today is my birthday!” I whispered.

She sat stright up in astonishment; eyes wide open, and full of disbelief. “Re’lly?” She said excitedly. “T’day is my birthday too! I’m 7 years old today!” she added with a smile of excitement.

“Stay here,” I stated, as I lifted myself from the table. I approached the counter where Betty was standing counting coins at the register and whispered to her ear and quickly sat back down.

Soon after Betty was making her way to our table with two small plates, as she set them down, I could see Wendy’s eyes brighten up and a smile taking shape on her face, as she stared incessantly at the lit candles poking out of the two pieces of pie. Betty smiled and said “Don’t forget to make a wish!” as she headed back to the counter.

With a pensive stare, she closed her eyes momentarily and softly blew out the candle. Mine still lit, she asked “Aren’t ya gonna make a wish too?”

I thought for a moment what I would wish for, closed my eyes, and blew out that single candle.

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Wendy now 11 years old was cradled gently in my arms, both of us sharing a blanket cuddled in bed. I could see her eyes start to close ever so slowly, and she was drifting to sleep. As I paused to just admire her childlike beauty, and stillness. She softly whispered “Tell me our story again, mommy.”

Indicus