Etched in Sand by Regina Calcaterra

Author:Regina Calcaterra [Calcaterra, Regina]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Biography & Autobiography, Personal Memoirs, Child Abuse, Nonfiction, Retail
ISBN: 9780062218841
Google: A1raMbGPQy8C
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2013-08-06T04:00:00+00:00

8

Empty Emancipation

November 1980 to Summer 1984

I SHAKE THE cramp from my hand and look at Ms. Davis over the thick affidavit on Addie’s table. “Emancipation,” I ask her and Addie, “means that I will never have to answer to Cookie again . . . right?”

Addie glances at Ms. Davis, who says, “That’s exactly what emancipation means, Regina.”

In exhaustion, I want to rest my head on this document. Completing this affidavit will change everything, but based on every event we’ve experienced in the foster system up to now, we can never predict whether the change will be better or worse.

The story of how we grew up is finally revealed to the authorities. Inside Addie’s kitchen on that Sunday in November, four days after my mother bruised me with her kicks and bloodied me with broken glass, Ms. Davis primes us to sign the affidavit by explaining that nobody can access a report where child abuse is involved, especially not the accused. She also assures us our statements will only be used to proceed with my gaining freedom from Cookie.

“And—you swear, the county is going to do everything it can to make sure Cookie can never get the kids again?” I turn to Camille, making sure Ms. Davis knows the hardness of this next statement is all for her: “Because I would suffer these black-and-blue marks all over again—I would spend the rest of my life sleeping alone behind a grocery store to hide from Cookie—if it meant I’d never have to see my little sister’s and brother’s faces in terror inside a social services car again.”

“I understand,” Ms. Davis says.

“Well then, promise: You and everyone you work with will fight for the kids’ safety from the second I put my pen to this page.”

“Regina, I promise.”

I look at Cherie and Camille. “I’m ready.”

I put the ballpoint pen to the line reading Signature and in loopy, feminine strokes, sign:

Regina M. Calcaterra

Then I flip the pen toward Camille. “You’re up.”

She gently slides it from my grip and, with the confidence of a maestro, scrawls her name beneath mine, and then Cherie follows her lead before she heads back home to her young family.

“Now that you both determined you won’t return to your mother’s care,” Ms. Davis says, looking at Camille and me, “you need to begin planning how you’ll live on your own as soon as you turn eighteen. The state only covers your foster care costs until then, unless you go to college.”

“College?” I asked.

“Granted, that comes with its own challenges—in fact, I have yet to see a foster kid go to college.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, think about it: It’s tough to hold down a job and make rent when you’re working hard to study. In any case, we’ll start teaching you how to live independently. Then, hopefully, one day you can make it on your own.” I glance at Camille, who’s giving Ms. Davis a look of daggers.

After she leaves, Addie stands aside to let Camille and me pass from the kitchen. “Will you be joining us for dinner?” she says.

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