Three Little Words by Ashley Rhodes-Courter

Author:Ashley Rhodes-Courter [Rhodes-Courter, Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781416948063
Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers
Published: 2008-01-08T00:00:00+00:00

Living in an institution with a myriad of regulations, it was impossible to lead a normal life. When my school had a fund-raiser, I was determined to sell enough to win one of the prizes. Ms. Sandnes squashed my plans to go door-to-door in the neighborhood. “Sorry, it’s against the rules.”

That afternoon I grumbled in therapy. “You could show the brochure around campus,” Mary Fernandez suggested.

I started with Mr. Bruce, who placed an order. He offered to accompany me on my rounds. By the time I returned to Lykes Cottage, I had made one hundred fifty dollars in sales, enough for one of the better prizes. I gave the envelope filled with checks and cash to Ms. Sandnes for safekeeping before I went to change into play clothes.

When I returned, Ms. Sandnes looked ill. “Ashley, did you take the envelope back to your room?”

“No, you put it on your desk.” My pulse quickened. “Is it missing?”

“I’m afraid so. I was gone just a minute or two.”

Nobody found the envelope and the deadline to turn in the order forms passed. I was more upset about accepting everyone’s money and not having anything to show for it than not winning the prize. A week later someone noticed that Daphne, who had not moved in with her adoptive family yet, had used a twenty-dollar bill when they went to a store. Eventually, she admitted to taking the money and made a halfhearted apology to me.

I held in my fury for a few days. On the way back from the gym after a soccer game, Daphne kept trying to trip me. My seething started in my gut and exploded through my fists. I punched her above her eye. I expected I would be punished, but I did not care. To my surprise, no one ever said anything about the incident.

Isabel, the other redhead in my fourth-grade class, was my best friend. She invited me to her home often, though I was never permitted to go—not even for her birthday party. Because campus residents could be unpredictable, they always had to be accompanied by staff. I pestered Ms. Sandnes for a visit so many times that she finally agreed to take me on a playdate.

Isabel’s mother was tense because I had come from “that place” and needed supervision. The four of us sat in the living room staring at one another until Isabel asked, “Want to see my birds and guinea pigs?”

The room smelled like cedar chips, and animal cages and tanks lined the walls. Isabel handed me a fuzzy guinea pig, which I petted until I noticed the raisin-like poops on its fur, then hurriedly gave him back. Because Ms. Sandnes had to be on duty at the cottage, we had to leave after only an hour. That was the first—and last—time I visited with a friend until I went to my adoptive family.

I had come to The Children’s Home expecting to be gone in a few months, but a year passed without anyone adopting us.

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