Angel Child

Chapter 1

December, 1962

Eighteen-year-old Maggie wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. The hot, soapy water splashed against her wrist as she continued to scrub the kitchen floor. "Ouch."

"You bettah git thru wid that floor," Big Mama called from the dining room. She was Maggie’s foster mother. "It don’t take all day to scrub that floor."

Back and forth, the brush made a scratchy sound, as Maggie performed her chore.

"Yes Ma’am," she replied. Maggie scrubbed furiously. Won’t be long. Not long at all. It was already December. Just one more month and she would be free. Free to start her life. Graduation was next month. She would leave this house, and move on. That was all she’d heard since she arrived fourteen years ago.

"Be glad when you git eighteen gal, you gotta git outta my house. Welfare don’t take care of y’all afta that."

The faded, yellow linoleum floor appeared to get bigger and bigger. Give me a break, Maggie thought. Not two or three; just one to see me through this month.

She heard the sound of Big Mama’s chair being pushed away from the dining room table, and hastily dipped her brush into the dirty water.

Accidentally, she banged her hand against the side of the bucket with a thud. "Man," she muttered in pain. Tears welled up in Maggie’s eyes. She bit her lips in frustration. "Gotta hold on, just have to," she mumbled to herself. Won’t be long--

* * * * *

Spring, 1948

Four-year-old Maggie scampered into the brightly- lit dining room. She scurried under the huge maple wood dining table covered with a flowing, white lacy tablecloth, hiding herself from the stares of the strangers in the room.

"Oh, don’t worry ‘bout that chile. She’ll be fine," a voice said.

Maggie could hear everything being said. The ride in the car had been long, and she was tired and sleepy. What was going on? Where was she, and why? Her nine-year-old sister, Karen, had tried telling her three-year-old brother, John, and Maggie that they were going to a foster home. John was fast asleep in the car, but Maggie had stared at the darkness surrounding the car, not understanding what that meant.

"These children have had a rough time. Their mother just died, and they’re in shock. Maggie is a quiet one, and doesn’t talk much. Karen is a very smart little girl, and quite protective of her siblings. There are other children, but these three are being placed with you. Here, you take the baby. Her name is Ellen. She is not their sister, but she came into our care at the same time. Their baby sister is Ellen’s age, six months, but she was adopted. We are so pleased that you agreed to keep the three siblings together. They need each other. We need more foster parents like you, Mrs. Hudson."

"Yeah, I know how it is. I’m gittin’old now. Can’t be keepin’ kids too much longer. Gittin’ tired. Too much trouble. This sho is a cute baby."

Miss Smith smiled. "Believe me, Mrs. Hudson. You are a blessing. So far, you’ve helped us with what, twenty children?"

"Somewhere ‘round there. Don’t rightly remember. I just know, I been doin’ this for a while now, and I’m tired."

From her hiding place under the table, Maggie watched the slender young woman who had brought her, her sister and her brother head toward the front door. The young woman’s young face looked troubled. Maggie watched as Miss Smith turned to face the old lady.

"Sometimes I think I’m in real danger of losing my soul doing this job. Thanks again, for your help, Mrs. Hudson. I’ll call you in a couple of days to see how they’re getting along."

"Like I said, don’t worry ‘bout them. They’ll git used to me. They all do. That gal will come from under that table, soon as you leave. Go ahead, you look as tired as I feel." The old woman closed the front door behind the young social worker.