@silversprinter here have a thing
“... These two have been in the States nearly a year. Yet they haven’t been in a home yet. Why?”
Hokulani Hewahewa stared down at the two files that came bundled together- as all sibling files did -on the desk before her. The office wasn’t exactly big, though several filing cabinets were pushed against one white wall. The desk had a computer, lamp, and office phone with a stack of similar looking files beside it.
“Who? Oh, those two. Yes, they’re a... special case.” Mrs. Seamore was middle-aged, her ginger hair, pulled into a tight bun, streaked with white. Plump with a kind smile, she peered at the open folders the younger woman was staring so intently at. She was one of many foster care case workers.
“They’re all special cases.”
“But these two are different. They’re older teens, and you know how hard it is to place those. Twins, from a small Eastern European country named Sokovia. The country is in civil war and they lost their parents. They were sent here to be in the care of a distant relative, but that relative never showed up to claim them. We’re doing the best we can but-”
“Hoku, the oldest you’ve taken on was a twelve year old.”
“And? Don’t they deserve someone to care for them?
“That isn’t what I... don’t give me that look! Fine. You know the procedure. Home inspection, then I’ll bring them to you.”
Home inspections were easy. Hoku owned a brownstone in an older, quiet neighborhood. The front of the four story building as well as the back, and the others connected to it, was dotted with green ivy that grew naturally over the stone walls. The style of the buildings showed they were from an earlier time. Four stories, the ground floor opened up into a high-fenced in back garden through lovely french doors. This floor was where the kitchen and dinning room was held, along with a pantry, half bathroom, and a small den. The next floor up, with the main entrance to the street- potted plants dotted the stairs leading up to the front door -held two living rooms, the one at the front slightly more formal than the one toward the back; the one overlooking the garden was used more as a playroom than anything else.
The third floor held two large bedrooms, one for boys and one for girls when Hoku fostered multiple children at a time, with a bathroom. The fourth floor was entirely her’s. Her bedroom, bathroom, and her art studio. From top to bottom, the brownstone gave off a well lived in, warm feeling with bright colors and patterns and plants everywhere. Hokulani was not the only one to inhabit the home. A petite feline, with fur as black as night, also called it home; in fact, she seemed to think she ruled the brownstone.
Before inspection, Hoku did as she always did when new kids were coming in. She repainted the bedrooms white, donated the older furniture, and bought new stuff in. It wasn’t like she was struggling for money- far from it -and when once questioned about the strange practice, she responded that a child needed to feel that they were home, that their choices and opinions mattered. She left the bedrooms white when the kids first came in and allowed them to choose what they wanted to do with them, without her influence. She simply provided the means for them to do so. They were allowed to choose what color the walls would be, to the curtains, to the throw rugs that would be placed over the wood floors. Not to mention furniture.
Especially now, given she was taking in older teenagers. The last kids she had were in grade school; she was sure the teens wouldn’t appreciate Elsa and Anna staring them in the face, nor toy race cars being everywhere. The inspection went smoothly, as it always did, and two days later, Mrs. Seamore arrived with her new wards.
