Idea of a Flower
One day I was playing in the yard. I must have been five or six. I had this game. I would pick up some pebbles, toss one, and then a second to see how close I could get it to the first. Then I’d let my imaginary little sister throw, only I did it for her.
After a while, a lady in a navy blue dress with a gold cross hanging from a tiny chain came up to the fence and said she liked the song I was singing. I didn’t know I was singing. She asked my name, and I told her Greta Williams. She said she knew my parents and grandparents and had a present for me. I didn’t know them so I was very curious. Out of her big black handbag she pulled a sweet lady doll with round stitched eyes and a lavender bonnet. The doll had a pale purple blouse and a long plum skirt. She looked like Red Riding Hood except that she had light brown skin and black braids under her bonnet, and I always thought Red Riding Hood had yellow hair and pink skin, plus a red hood. The lady told me it was a secret doll and to flip it over. When I turned it upside down, there was another doll, but instead of legs under her skirt, it was a man with red hair, a white shirt, brown jacket, and green eyes. The lady said it was my beautiful smart teacher mother on one side and my handsome piano-playing dad on the other.
“Did they give you this doll for me?” I asked.
“No, darlin’. I made it for you. They were beautiful souls, those two,” she told me.
She had a deep voice. If God were a lady, she’d sound just like her. I wanted her to keep talking because she made me feel calm and knew important things. I wanted to ask when she knew my parents because she said they were beautiful souls. I wanted to ask her so many questions my hat would have popped off my head if I had had one, but just then, my foster mom came out of the house and asked who was I talking to. The lady in the hat said she was taking a walk in the neighborhood and heard me singing and stopped to say hi. She said she had picked up the doll earlier and was delighted to find a little girl who might want to play with it. Miz Del, that was for Miz Delores, looked stern. She and El had gone to a funeral that morning and when they came home, she got busy making a cake for the dead lady’s family. She was in a hurry when she came out to see who was I talking to. She took the doll out of my hand to look at it, but since I had turned it back over, she didn’t see what was underneath. Miz Delores gave me back the doll and didn’t say anything more, so I thought it was okay, but I could tell she didn’t want us to be talking to the lady. She didn’t tell her to leave exactly, but then she nodded and put her hand out to wave and said good day. The lady understood that she was meant to go away. As she started up the street, Miz Del suddenly grabbed the doll out of my hands and ran after her. I didn’t hear their conversation but saw Miz Del point her finger at the lady’s face and place the doll in the lady’s bag. Then Miz Del came back to the house and went inside. I looked toward the corner hoping the lady would turn around, but she was gone. I stayed outside playing for a while, and then when I went in, Miz Del told me to go to my room.
A few days later, El and Del gave me back to the fostering agency. I thought things had been going okay. Elmore was nice. He played parcheesi and checkers with me and was teaching me solitaire. I felt so sad to be given back again because I still didn’t have a forever home.