Reaching Sky

ACE

If you don’t want to eat burnt pancakes, please open the door. I was never good at cooking, so it sounded like a real threat. And please be nice... at least this time...

Sky had her ups and downs with unplanned visitors. One day extremely polite to even undeserving individuals, another day she was jumping on them like a wild animal, ready to shred random strangers into ribbons.

Sky nodded and slid down from the high bar chair. She loved sitting on this extremely uncomfortable chair watching me swearing and burning our food. I believe this picture of me, struggling with cooking, was giving her a feeling of home, family, safety maybe... if an occasional fire alarm can be called safe...

She was reading when someone knocked at the door or was pretending to read. Hiding behind the book was something she did a lot even while being a little girl, shielding herself from the world, not bothering to see what it offers.

I usually make an effort not to stare at her while she is reading, but every time I see her absorbed by a book, it reminds me of the day we met.

It happened in an orphanage, during one of those charity events, when your company decides to spend their money on something good. I never volunteered before because the idea of being surrounded by kids... scared me to death...

I have an excuse though... My first experience with it was slightly traumatic. I was in my early 20’s, working at my first ever job. My company decided to organize a charity event in an orphanage and to bring along girls who already made their living by entertaining kids (it was our actual job - hosting kids’ birthday parties). We just needed to do everything we did daily: keep kids entertained... Sounded easy enough. The audience was supposed to be 5 or even 10 times bigger than usual, which could be a challenge, but we were up to it. Young and ambitious.

Yes, audience size was not the main issue at all. What our bosses failed to tell us before we arrived there, was that kids were not only orphans (which was not an issue!), kids were sick...

I barely remember the room we entered, only that it was huge and reminded me of school theater. Probably it was not such a significant interior compared to a big picture.

You probably guessed it by now. The kids were sick. Some of them mentally, some physically, most of them clinging to wheelchairs. They were really happy to see us, probably not having much entertainment, the atmosphere was hospital or even prison like there.

I still remember the moment my coworker and I looked at each other, realization hit us. We had bags stuffed with items for active kids’ games. The only items we were able to use now out of our inventory were small paper flags, to waive and attract attention. I will never forget how I was trying to give one of the flags to a child in a wheelchair and he spread his leg to pick it up with his toes, unable to do it with his crooked fingers.

We did the best we could to keep the energy high, our smiles up and our audience entertained. On our way back me and my partner were sitting in the car, not able to talk to our boss, who set us up so badly. Each of us stared through the passenger side windows, silently trying to hide the tears streaming down our cheeks. Deep inside I was struggling with a heartbreaking picture of poor kids mixed with raving rage. They didn’t warn us, they didn’t bother to, or they were just afraid we would reject the offer knowing the truth.

As much as I wanted to forget this experience, it was still there after years, reaching out to me every time kids related charity events were planned... like that child in a wheelchair.

So, that was my first orphanage visit experience. Still wondering why the idea of doing it again was not flying with me? The first one broke me badly...

I would be happy to purely blame it on my PTSD, but even before that colorful experience I never wanted to become a mother. Phrases like Oh, you’re still young or You didn’t meet the right guy yet only made me smile. If I tried to explain that I simply am not a fan of kids and never wanted one, people just couldn’t accept it. How is it possible that a young, smart and successful woman doesn’t want to get married and have a child? So, usually when the conversations about kids started, I simply nodded when someone was telling me that it’s not my time yet. Nodding helps to change the subject, also if you pretend sad or even crying, they mostly shut the f*ck up. I was good at it before, having scenarios for different people, like an actress. Sometimes playing along is easier. What’s the point of arguing with a happy mother of two little angels regarding life choices?

I heard it somewhere before: Getting a child is like putting a tattoo on your face. It’s highly visible and it is for all your life. Try to say it to a happy mother, you probably would get an intense reaction.

So, years later, after deep and paranoid research of the orphanage we were going to, I finally said yes to this terrifying offer. Look at me trying to beat emotional trauma! Maybe I just needed to stick a new picture on top of the old faded one on my wall of memories. Maybe that’s where I was meant to be. Probably both.

I was not even supposed to be there, I was just covering for my colleague as she became sick right before this visit. My boss made an effort to convince me that it’s good for my career to take part in this kind of event and I thought What can go wrong? ... Like I had something better to do on Saturday... Young, smart, successful and very single at the time. One thing was true, I didn’t date the right guy then.

They had a plan. Toys, games, food, gifts, kids’ performances... all the regular stuff, I guess. It was going smoothly, but I was looking for a dark corner to hide from all of it from the moment I stepped into the building. It was not horrible; I just couldn’t do it. After one hour of fake smiling and pretending to be having a fun time, I faked a phone call and hid in one of the bedrooms to answer it. Was it fate to choose the right door in an unfamiliar building? It could be a broom closet for what I know, but it wasn’t... It was her bedroom.

I remember how I flinched, not expecting someone else to be in the room, thinking that every single soul, except me, was having fun at the party.

Later I found out that she was 4 years old, but my initial thought was that she was 6 or 7 at least. She was tiny, she didn’t look older, but the picture didn’t really match. Sky was sitting on her bed, reading a book that was bigger than the girl herself. Not one of these colorful children's books. This one even looked huge and boring, like history or philosophy... no pictures at all! It was not something you normally see in the hands of a tiny girl. I never saw an adult reading such a book, not talking about a 4-year-old! That’s why my brain was shocked and tried to convince me that she was older.

She looked into my eyes, and I felt goosebumps all over my body. For a few seconds she was curious, checking out my hand holding the phone and smiling. Like she knew something I didn't, like she had a plan. And that was it. After that she lost her interest and continued reading.

All those kids around were so lonely, clingy, craving for attention, genuine and friendly... and here was Sky. Probably because she was so different, I decided to approach her. I was intrigued.

I stepped closer to her, no reaction followed. Her tiny finger kept sliding through the dusty page. I took one more step for her to look up again. And it happened again: my goosebumps, her curiosity for a few seconds and... she lost interest again... That huge book apparently was way more exciting than I was.

I heard the door opening behind my back. The nurse was standing in the doorway. Not going to work if you’re expecting a dialog, Dear she said sarcastically. Sky is... different.

She sounded like she had a secret on her mind but was not sure if she could trust me with it.

What do you mean? That was the only question I had, the only thing I wanted to know.

You better go back. The nurse made up her mind about trusting me. Was she protecting the little girl’s privacy, or was it planned to spike my interest? I guess we’ll never know. I had no choice but to come back to enjoying myself at the party.

Everything I could think of for the next couple of days was that tiny girl with the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. I will never be able to erase that day from my memory, the day when Sky put a brick into the foundation of my life.

The memory flow stopped as soon as I heard his voice:

I told you already. If your mother decides to cook, let me know and I’ll bring something edible. Dave was standing in front of me, gracefully balancing two paper cups in one hand.

Thank you for believing in my culinary skills, Hon!

I will take my words back if you tell me that none of the pancakes got burned. He knew me better than I thought, but he would never check for the bodies of fallen pancake soldiers, hidden in the garbage the moment he rang the doorbell.

Sky couldn’t hold a laugh, trying to hide her face behind the book. It was barely audible, but I saw her eyes lighten up, the expression I’ve seen so many times before and would love to see as many times as possible in the future.

Dave was my first boyfriend she actually liked, the first guy who stepped into our lives with ease. My previous boyfriends were trying to connect with Sky, sometimes making an effort of buying their way into her heart (which didn’t work) ... Dave didn’t. Sky was never his main girl to charm. He didn’t try to please a child to win points from her mother. He just cared about me and was there when I needed him. I didn't even realize when and how it got him a seat behind the family table. Both me and Sky just took Dave in, and he became something more than just a friend in the blink of an eye.

It is my day off and I will start it by burning a few pancakes and having the best coffee in town! I took a paper coffee cup from Dave’s hand acting like my life depended on it.

Brought here by the best boyfriend? Dave tried to kiss me. I felt blush popping up on my cheeks. It was still