Bringing the Light

10. Stephen

"Because it was so last minute, the only place I could get that could take you is the Boys' Home. You shouldn't be here too long. I'll move you to another foster family as soon as possible."

Arlene had pulled up to a building that looked like a mix between a school and a jail. The windows all had bars on them and the whole place was surrounded by a tall fence with barbed wire along the top.

The boys who were outside looked angry and sullen.

Arlene parked the car and then took my stuff out of the trunk while I got out of the car. I took my backpack and duffel from her and followed her into the building.

"Name?" The lady at the desk said.

"Stephen Jacob Freud," Arlene said. The lady looked up with a raised eyebrow and then looked at me. "No relation."

I didn't know what she meant.

"Age?"

"Ten."

"Any dietary restrictions?"

"No."

"Any physical restrictions?"

"Not really. His left shoulder can act up occasionally because of an injury, but otherwise he's fine."

"Any chronic conditions?"

"No."

"Any daily medications?"

"No."

"Alright. Leave the bags here and follow me," she said.

"But, my stuff," I said.

"We'll take care of it. You won't need it here. We have to go through it to make sure you didn't bring any drugs, alcohol or weapons. Anything contraband will be confiscated and disposed of. Personal items will be catalogued and stored."

"But, my books," I said.

"We have an extensive library."

And with that, I was separated from my own belongings.

"Be good, Stephen. You won't be here for too long," Arlene said.

The lady from the desk was holding open a door and waiting for me.

In the next room, a man stood behind a counter and looked at me.

"Size eight," he said, and handed me a pile of clothes, blankets and a pillow.

"What size shoe?" He asked.

I looked down at my Converse.

"Three," I said. He handed me a pair of blue shoes.

The lady led me out of that room and into another one. This time it looked like a doctor's exam room.

"Oh. Hello there," the man in the room said. "I'm Doctor Eaves. Just put your stuff there on the chair and undress to your underwear."

I didn't want to do that. I didn't move.

"I don't have all day, kid. Let's go. Chop chop."

I pulled off my shoes, socks, pants and t-shirt. The lady took it all and put it all in a clear plastic bag.

"We'll launder this and store it with the rest of your stuff," she said.

The doctor looked me over, looked in my eyes and ears, my mouth and my nose, under my arms and made me bend over and then he ran his fingers down my spine. It felt weird. But it didn't hurt.

"You had shoulder surgery?" He asked, looking at my left shoulder. I nodded.

"Why?"

"I broke my shoulder when I was eight," I said.