Home at Last

Kate stared into the large, rectangular bathroom mirror as she swept her medium-length, silky, dark-brown waves of hair up into a loose bun. Her large, gray eyes and thin, rosy lips pulled a look of displeasure as she saw the five freckles on her nose. Her skin was very pale, so the freckles seemed even more prominent. In actuality, to anyone else, it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it vexed her. She knew she was no extreme beauty, but she had always thought that her nose was pretty nice looking. Now even that is spoiled by those horrid freckles.

She sighed as she closed the bathroom light and continued to examine the empty house. She had only bought the house a week ago so it was completely barren on the inside. She had cleaned the kitchen, living room, bathroom, and bedrooms thoroughly with plenty of soap and water. There was no furniture yet other than her bed, table and chair in her bedroom. This house was once her parents’. Her mother had died of some illness a few weeks after giving birth to her. Her father had died of a high fever a few months later. This left her an orphan at the mercy of those who would take pity on her. She had no known relatives. Her neighbour, Mrs. Jameson had taken her in when her parents had both passed. The Jamesons were very poor and had six children. Kate had helped to look after them.

When she was ten, tragedy struck the Jameson household. Mr. Jameson had died in an accident at work. Mrs. Jameson was at wits end of what to do. Her relatives and Mr. Jameson’s relatives took pity on her. Mrs. Jameson and her youngest child, Summer, went to live with a cousin of hers. The rest of the children were spilt among the relatives. None of them had wanted Kate, a strange, scrawny orphan with large grey eyes. So, Kate was sent to the Orphanage of Ashville where things were just as scarce. The orphanage hadn’t wanted to take her in for it was so full, but as she had nowhere to go, so they had to take her in. In that orphanage she stayed until she was eleven years old.

Kate neither liked nor hated the orphanage. There weren’t many rooms for the dozens of orphans, so several orphans would have to share rooms in crowded, small bunkbeds. The food was subpar at best and there was never enough of it. They only had barely enough to get by, and it often didn’t taste very good. The cook was hired with low pay. She was half-blind and didn’t seem to care much what she was cooking. The clothing given to them were either old clothes donated to them or new clothes made from the cheap fabrics that were donated to them. They were made from the least materials needed, so they were more on the skimpy and sensible side. There was no heating in winter and air conditioning in summer. The building was made of some sort of stone, so it wasn’t too hot during summers, nor too freezing in winter if you were in rooms that had no windows that led directly outside. The orphanage was at a dismal location, no greenery nor trees were in sight. This was the part that Kate disliked most about the place. The place seemed dead and forgotten without even a blade of grass.

A lady called Sherry Taylor had adopted her when she was eleven. Although she was well-fed and clothed in fine clothes in the care of Sherry and her husband, John Taylor, she was not happy. Every time Sherry looked at her, it was full of dislike. Sherry had adopted her just as a duty to help the world, so she could boast about it in church. The Taylors had a little boy and a girl of their own. John Taylor was a businessman, so he was always busy. He rarely paid much attention to his own kids, Martin and Marie. He ignored Kate completely. Although Mr. Jameson often got violently drunk and would start hurling things and holler profanities, he had been amiable in his good moods. Kate found that she would rather be at the receiving end of temporary wrath than the permanent indifference. It was as if she was invisible or didn’t exist. It was an unpleasant feeling to her sensitive little soul. Sherry would always rebuke her and constantly remind her that if she did not behave, she would be sent back to the orphanage. She was not to quarrel, be angry, have an attitude, complain or cry. Sherry would look at her scornfully and scold her if she was aloof or absentminded with daydreaming. Sherry would always turn a blind eye or ear if her children picked on her. Martin and Marie weren’t naturally violent, so she did not suffer much physical abuse. However, she was often chided and insulted until her soul was raw with indignation.

Kate had gotten a job and moved out as soon as she could. When she was seventeen, she went to college to major in law. She hadn’t had many friends during school days, and was often picked on, but in college she had some chums. Upon graduating with honors, she looked for a new place to rent at. After scrolling through the listings of apartments, houses and rooms for rent, she decided to look up small houses she could buy. After all, buying a home would be a good investment, and she wouldn’t need to worry about pesky roommates. Also, she would finally have a home to call her own. She had heard of a song that claimed that “a house is not a home” but she had not believed it. To someone who had always felt like an outsider in her “home”, having a house of her own would finally give a feeling of home and security that she had never had. On a whim, she checked the listings near the town she had been born in. She found that the house of her deceased parents was up for sale and bought it.

Now she was finally exploring her parents' house. It wasn’t very large. She had fallen in love with the house even before entering it. It was a little charming house that was surrounded by a meadow of flowers. The most prominent were the daisies of various colours. They were all wild flowers and possessed a charm that man-sowed flowers never could achieve. The house itself was draped with vines of ivy, and morning glory that climbed wherever they pleased. The bottom of the house even has moss climbing up it—just a few centimeters of it near the flooring of the stone walls. Inside the house was a kitchen, bathroom, study, living room, a bedroom, a spare room, several closets, a basement, and a shed outside in the backyard. She had been told that her father’s father had paid for the land many years ago for both of her parents were very poor. Her father had constructed the entire house. She had discovered many secret hidey-holes and closets that were not visible to those who don’t inspect it carefully. She wondered how many secret rooms the house had. Her father had been a carpenter and her mother had been a school teacher.

Kate went down the basement stairs upon turning on the lights. It was the only part inside the house she had not explored. The walls were made of reddish-brown bricks. There was a large sink and two rooms upon first glance. The first room she checked was empty. The second room was kind of particular. There were large circles on the walls near the floor. The circles were made of wood, and they were about two meters in diameter. After staring at them for a couple of minutes, she noticed that one of the circles was a little different in position by a few centimeters. She touched it and tried to move it, and soon found that it could move. If you push it from the left with considerable force, it slides open. When she got it almost fully open, she saw it was some sort of tunnel made of wood. She was wrong. It wasn’t a tunnel, but a slide. The sides of it had hoops of metal that you could use to climb back up the slide.

Kate gasped as she drunk in the sight around her when she reached the bottom of the slide. There was a built-in cushioning where the slide ended. A giant pillow of some sort was fastened securely to the ground by four large nails. The underground cave was glowing softly with its numerous large clusters of big glowing stones. There was a natural spring at the center of the room. A suspicious package wrapped in brown paper laid on the dirt floor a few feet away from the spring. The spring was like a small pond. It was enclosed with large stones. Near these stones were large, flat-surfaced stone that were like tree stumps.

Kate walked over to the package and picked it up gingerly. With it in hand, she went over to the stool-like rocks and sat on one of them and placed the package beside her. She carefully peeled away the loosely wrapped brown paper and set it aside as she lifted up the box it was wrapped around. It was a faded yellow cardboard box. She placed the box on her lap and lifted off the lid. A moment of shock froze her as she stared at its contents in bewilderment. They were letters exchanged by her parents, Linda Moore and Matthew Evans. There were three faded photographs too. They were portraits that were about two inches tall and one and a half inch wide. One was of her mother smiling, one of her father’s boyish grin as he held up a daisy, and one was of her little mother smiling down at the newborn baby in her arms.

Kate carefully pulled the top letter out of its envelope and unfolded it. The return address was from Linda Moore of Dryad’s Cottage (14 Brooks Lane), Bloomsburg, BC, Canada. It was written from the little mother to the father when were parted during Kate’s birth.

Dearest,

I know that you would give anything to be here right now, and that it isn’t by choice, but duty that you are away during such an important time. You know that I have always loved the sunrises and sunsets of our lovely Dryad’s Cottage. A time when the entire house is engulfed in rosy sunshine and it seems as if the fairies of yesteryears have gathered and showered the entire place in glowing pink dust. On Monday, just as the sun was setting, our little one came into this world. Her eyes are silvery gray like moonshine. I have christened her Kate Lily Rosemary Evans like we had decided. She is quite a good little one. She doesn’t cry very often, and is probably the sweetest, most well-behaved little baby.

The letter was two pages long. The proud little mother gushed about her happiness and adoration of the wee infant, concluding with some loving words to her husband and how that she and the baby would be eagerly awaiting his return. Kate’s eyes grew teary as she read the letter, and soon a flood of tears streamed down her face.

“I am no longer an orphan.” She breathed out softly. ‘I have found my parents. They might not be in this world anymore, but I feel like I've finally found a home. I’m so glad she was happy with me. I don’t think I could endure it if I had disappointed her. They will never be dead in my memories.’