All the Little Children Need to Come Home

Chapter Nine: Hello

By the time Alice went outside to unload the bulbs, the air had turned crisp. She looked up at the darkening clouds. It was early November, and they hadn't had an Indian Summer yet. Now was the time to get the bulbs in the ground before it frosted over.

She chose the spot where the bench nestled right under the leaves of the Dwarf Japanese maple tree. Laying the boxes of bulbs on mulch under the bench, she stooped to sort them. Daffodils and tulips of all different colors; purple hyacinths because their fragrance was so strong. Crocuses. Just white. She loved color in her garden. She was not one to organize groups of colors like they showed in gardening books, although those arrangements were beautiful. She loved the freedom of the wildflowers in fields. Nature at its best.

Alice went to the garage and grabbed the navy-blue sweat-shirt with Shepherd University Baseball on the front. It was one of Todd's favorites for just hanging around. Slipping it over her head, the scent of her son teased her memory. She held a sleeve to her nose, breathing deeply.

"Todd," she said, and the tears flowed.

She sat down on the cement floor and let the memories sweep through her. She remembered something she had read somewhere. "Grief is like an ocean, it ebbs and it flows." Breathing deeply, the flow crashed over her.

After a few moments, she reached into the pocket of the sweatshirt and found some unused tissues. She had yet to wash it, relishing the scent of her son. She wiped her eyes and tossed the tissue into the open garbage can before she headed down the driveway towards the bench and her bulbs.

As she kneeled, she touched a leaf of the fiery maple tree. Then she began to dig the holes, enjoying the touch and smell of the rich, dark soil as it traveled through her fingers to the ground.

Something cold touched her forehead. She looked up as little flakes of snow started falling around her. Shutting her eyes, she let the small cold flakes gently touch her cheeks. She stuck her tongue out to catch a snowflake.

"What are you doing?" she heard a soft voice say.

Startled, Alice turned to see a little girl with almost white curls and bright blue eyes standing right next to her. Her cherub face was flushed and she had this questioning smile.

Alice looked at her and then looked around the yard, next door, up the driveway to see if anyone else was there. Not a person or a car in sight.

Alice leaned back on her heels and noticed how the little girl was dressed. She was totally unprepared for this weather. She was wearing a yellow dress, with ruffles along the bottom and a bow at her waist. She had no socks, but she had little white feathery slippers on her feet.

"What's your name?" Alice asked. The little girl was fiddling with the ruffles on her dress. "Are you by yourself? Where are your parents, Hun?"

"I don't have any parents."

Alice again glanced around at the empty neighborhood.

"Well, actually, I do have a mommy and daddy, but they don't want me anymore. So I chose you to be my mommy!" The little girl's excitement was authentic and Alice wasn't sure what to do. She stood, brushed her hands, and stooped to talk to the little girl.

"What's your name?"

"Haley Margaret Jensen," she replied, proudly.

"Well, Miss Haley Margaret Jensen," Alice said and reached for her hand. "My name is Alice and we have to find where you belong."

Alice started to walk towards the house that shared their driveway, but Haley held back.

"I belong here," she said, again. "I want you to be my mommy."