Off To The Beattys - Chapter 2 (part 2)

That afternoon, all the kids that were in school, including seven

year-old Priscilla, were taken back home and were allowed to pack

what few clothes and toys they had into little boxes. Within minutes,

the three girls were ready to go to the ranch, and the two boys were set

to go with the social worker to their new foster home. Priscilla, with her

brown hair and brown eyes, then sat on the bed, which she shared with

her sisters, and began to think about the times she had in that house.

She remembered when she fell out of a tree and broke her collarbone.

To avoid a costly medical bill, she wasn't allowed a hospital visit but

instead had to let it heal on its own, often keeping her up for hours at

night. She recalled the "haunted house" that she and her brothers and

sisters visited, and how her dad had to go catch chickens in the back

yard and cut their heads off so they could have dinner. She also remembered

how she was recently baptized with her brother, Philip, in

the small, storefront church where her dad was a pastor for a short time.

It had been only six hours earlier, at five o'clock in the morning,

that Ross had awakened and walked into the rooms of his children.

Roger, age ten, and Philip, age seven, were still asleep, as well as all

the girls. Quietly, Ross walked over to their bedside and prayed over

each one. He finished praying and then stood watching them, rolled up

in their blankets.

He felt helpless.

In his thoughts, he imagined himself much more successful, perhaps

something like his wealthy, younger brother and entertainer, Jack.

He imagined a world with the kids running around in perfect contentment,

and in that world, he could have time to play catch with his boys,

buy dresses and toys for his girls, provide wonderful things for his

wife, have warm cooked meals every night, go to restaurants, or go hiking

in the mountains. He even dreamed of one day being able to go to

the Holy Land and be baptized in the Jordan River.

All these things he pictured as the things a family should be able to

do. Even so, he was an honorable man. He knew that he served God

and kept God's commands despite the lack of material wealth. He

didn't feel disappointed in his role of father, whose measure of success,

ultimately, was in depending on God and teaching his kids the ways of

the Lord.

But sometimes he just wished he could do more.

He wanted to take all the blame, but he knew that if the word blame

was used, it had the unmistakable tinge of failure, and as long as he

served his God, nothing he did, as a faithful husband or father, would

ever be seen as a failure. This, however, did not keep him from envisioning

a life not of excess but at least of reasonable comfort.

By now the kids were standing quietly, waiting for their dad to help

load the car. Then Ross walked into their rooms to see if they were

ready. As he noticed their small, cardboard boxes, packed neatly with a

few clothes, he was determined to one day bring his family back together

again. Disheartened that he was sending his kids away to live

somewhere else and unsure for how long, he began to feel the pressure

all around him, as though he were the rag doll packed tightly between

folded clothes, and locked in a small suitcase.

But it was time.

They collected all of their belongings, got in the car, and headed to

Beatty's Ranch. Roger and Philip said their goodbyes and left with the

social worker. It was easy as long as each other's car was in sight, but

the moment the two cars took different streets, the moment the Owens

kids could no longer see each other through the back windows was the

moment that hurt. It was the beginning of their separation, and as incomprehensible

as time and distance were to their young minds, so too

was it perplexing that they should find themselves thrown into new

lives, new environments, and new worlds.

Edith and Harold Beatty welcomed them as they drove up. It was

12:00 noon, and Mrs. Beatty already had lunch made for the carload of

shy but hungry Owens girls. Ross promised to stay for only an hour, as

he had to get back to his work. The girls, Ruth, Priscilla, and Esther,

took an immediate liking to the place.

They ran around the ranch as if every dog, cat, horse, and donkey

were waiting just for them. Ross went inside and talked with Edith and

Harold, while the girls examined the place like exuberant gumshoes

looking for signs of life. The only thing that interested them more than

the black and white Shetland ponies was their pink, blue, and white

bedroom, decked out with blankets, mirrors, books, and vases full of

magnolias, daisies, sunflowers, and tulips. The window was open, and

the wind flung the curtain up and down, boasting an inviting, cool

breeze that whirled throughout the bedroom.

They walked back to their dad, shy but smiling nonetheless, as if to

say about the ranch, "We'll take it."

"Looks like they plan on staying," said Mrs. Beatty with a

large grin.

"I believe so," said Ross.

Out the back door the girls went, off to retrieve their belongings

from the car and to bring them to their room. Since lunch was waiting

for them, they were allowed to eat before they unpacked, even though

unpacking for them might have taken only minutes. Still, there would

have been the time-consuming, inevitable matter of "who-gets-to-sleepwhere"

and "who-gets-what," so unpacking could wait.

Nonetheless, the Owens girls were apprehensive at being somewhere

completely new. The fact that Mrs. Beatty was as welcoming as

chocolate chip cookies and teddy bear hugs certainly helped win their

affection, so that within a day they were already calling her Aunt E.

She served peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and fruit juice for lunch

that first day, and that didn't exactly hurt the cause either.

After lunch, Ross said goodbye to the Beattys and to his girls. Ross

found it hard to leave them there, but as usual it wasn't noticeable on

the outside. As they waved from their porch, they disappeared into the

distance from his rear view mirror. He strategically placed the little

ones, Elizabeth and Lois, in the back seat so he could have the privacy

he needed to let his streaming tears fall in peace.

Elizabeth and Lois were getting restless, since they weren't getting

enough sleep. Ross was sure that they would be knocked out in no time

with the warm temperature and the cool breeze coming through the car

windows during the drive back home.

He was right.

The social worker and the two Owens boys had already made it to

their new home. The middle-aged couple escorted the boys inside. It

wasn't an impressive place, and neither were the people. But after all,

not everyone could be like the Beattys.

Roger and Philip weren't exactly thrilled with their new home, but

it had to do for now. They unpacked their things in their new bedroom,

and the couple responded hospitably, which was out of their character

but well timed under the watchful eye of the social worker. Finding it

acceptable, the social worker said goodbye to the foster parents, shut

the door, filled out paperwork in his car for a few minutes, and drove

off. Suddenly Roger and Philip felt as though the only ones they had in

the world were each other.

Roger and Philip looked around their room. They knew it needed

some Dodger pennants on the wall. The boys did their best to make the

best of things, but having someone other than their own parents tell

them that it's late and it's time to clean up and go to bed just seemed to

make the whole situation worse.

A week later, the boys began noticing how much beer and wine

their new foster parents were drinking. To them, this was a foreign and

moral intrusion on their living space. They were not accustomed to the

presence of alcohol in their house. Every sip of wine and chug of beer

seemed as threatening as thunder and lightning. They lived under a

cloud of grief and felt the downpour of discomfort, and within a couple

of months, they desperately wanted to call their dad.

Roger and Philip consoled each other in their room at night, often

sharing all the things that they saw the couple do or say. One night,

Roger and Philip were working on a jigsaw puzzle together. Roger

couldn't help but think how he missed listening to The Lone Ranger on

the radio every night after doing his homework. Somehow, he wished

that the Lone Ranger would learn about their misery, and, while riding

Silver, crash through the front door, splintering it into a million pieces,

and rescue him and his little brother.

It had been just a few months, and the Lone Ranger finally arrived.

It wasn't the masked man, dressed in sky blue, white hat, and red neckerchief,

guns drawn, and riding a gallant horse. It was a man they were

much happier to see.

Dad.

Although dismayed at the circumstances, Ross knew he still had to

find another place for his boys. He had talked with the social worker to

find a place for Roger and Philip that would be as fun and exciting as

Beatty's Ranch for girls. They did, or so it seemed.