To Sing Frogs Chapter 18b

Katya with her locker in the locker room

“She says Katya has been obsessed with flowers,” Anya translated. “Every morning when she wakes up she goes to the window to see if there are flowers. Then when it’s time to go outside, Katya doesn’t play with the other children but wanders the grounds looking for any sign of blooms. The director asked one of the workers why the child kept looking for flowers. The woman explained that the mother told her when the snow went away and the flowers came up, she would come back to bring her home. The director said she tried to explain to Katya it just meant you would be back sometime in the spring and maybe the flowers would bloom a little bit before you came. Katya insisted you promised you would come back when the flowers came up. At first the director thought it would be all right and you would probably beat the flowers. It has been a lot warmer over the past week, though. Things are getting green fast. The director knew that any day the first flowers of spring would show their colors. If you weren’t here she didn’t know what she was going to tell Katya. She says she is exhausted. Katya has been running them all ragged, constantly asking when the flowers would come.

When Anya finished translating the story the director laughed, pretended to wipe sweat from her forehead and sat up straight. Amy apologized while shaking her head. “I’m so sorry! Katya asked me when we would come back. I was trying to make it more general than specific. I had no idea she would take it literally.”

The director laughed and waved her hand, telling us in international language it was no big deal.

It was a big deal though. Maybe Amy didn’t know it and maybe the director didn’t understand. A cynic like me can spot one like Katya a mile away. The little girl had given us a test. Orphans like her have heard lies their whole lives. Then they are told there will be new parents who they can trust. Katya had understood Amy to say we would be back with the flowers. What she perceived was all that mattered. The child was watching to see if we could be trusted. How much of the foundation of our future relationship had been resting under this Damocles sword? An arrival a week later could have had adverse effects for years.

Jack got his flowers. We made our flight connections. Katya had been spared from the crushing effects of a promise Amy put into motion without any ability to control the outcome. Someone must have been living right. It could have only been my wife.

The theatrics evaporated and the director cordially welcomed us to Russia, to Partizansk, and to the orphanage. She thanked us for taking time to meet her, even though she knew we must be bursting to see Katya. She stood, led us to the door and down another bare-naked hall to a room next to where children were kept. While we walked, Amy tried to hand me the flowers.

“You do it,” I said.

She insisted. “Please. I want to see her get flowers from ‘Papa’. You two are so sweet together.” I didn’t reach up to grab the flowers, hoping my wife would reconsider. I wanted to see Katya get flowers from “Mama.” Finally I relinquished and grasped the cellophane covered stems. “Thank you,” Amy said as she put her arm around my waist and squeezed me while we walked.

Within seconds we were standing in a room with twenty-four imitation wood-door lockers. The director excused herself and went into a connecting room to retrieve our daughter-to-be.

We waited silently.

Link to other sections of To Sing Frogs