Orphan
I bundled my too-large, second-hand coat around myself as I paused on the path back into the orphanage. The main bulk of the dormitories loomed to my right, and behind me the ramp that led into the cafeteria teemed with children. They talked and laughed, shouted, jostled, feared or anticipated, radiated contentedness or dissatisfaction or happiness, and generally ignored me. The only concession they gave to my presence was to carefully walk around my still figure and not think about me.
Finally they were gone, and their noise with them. My breath misted in the winter morning air, and though I knew I should join my fellows at their lessons, I did not move. The fence that ringed the entire compound of the orphanage stood just ahead of me, cutting me off from the houses beyond and, more importantly, the families who made those houses into homes. The pride of a father in his son, a mother’s love for her daughter, the natural rivalry and affection among siblings—I had no part in such normal happiness. And I never could.
Whenever couples came, they did not meet me. Whenever some brave soul said that they wanted to adopt a child with “special needs,” I was not even mentioned. Not that I belonged to such a group. The orphanage simply had no other way of classifying me.
Once, a young woman had broken off from her husband’s arm as they were being shown the playroom, and walked over to crouch next to me where I huddled in my corner. “And what’s your name?” she had asked with a smile.
The guide had answered before I could, “Oh, don’t mind Sam, ma’am. Often sits alone like that, very much a loner. If you’ll come this way?” And she had gone.
Sam, I thought now. How like them to abbreviate that which they can’t pronounce. I had told them, in my own way, what my real name—my full name—was, and indeed it did “sound” something like the syllable they had lumbered on me. Unfortunately, I had misjudged the capability of the man I had told. Rumor had it he was still seeing psychiatrists. The administrators told any visitors who asked that I was mute, and it was true I had not spoken more than a handful of words aloud in my entire life. After the one and only time I had contacted a visitor—accidentally giving her reoccurring dreams identical to those I had been having at the time—I had been admonished to never do that again!
And I hadn’t.
“Sam!” I didn’t react, though I recognized the voice. “Sam, time for lessons, come on!” Ms. Rose appeared at my side. Sweet, kind, far-too-open-minded Ms. Rose. I dared not even think of contacting her.
But I responded to her gentle pull on my arm, taking one last look at the clear blue December sky before following her into the dark, loud, crowded confines of the building. The crushing weight of thoughts bore down on me. Fighting hard, I kept my defenses in place, but their emotions and musings battered me from every side. Ms. Rose was the worst, so near, so innocent, so open! Why was it so much worse today? Ah. It was my sight that gave me the answer: the silver band that circled her left ring finger, its little diamond winking in the light.
Her joy swamped me, her desire to share it even more powerful. She reached out and I struggled, held myself apart as best I could. But I felt my self begin to slip, begin to be pulled with ever more insistence into a mind not my own, until—
Ending One
I blinked, came slowly awake as I realized two things: I was lying down, and I was not in my body. A doctor’s concerned face thrust itself into my line of vision, “Ms. Rose, are you all right? What happened?”
I recoiled from him, from the name, from the knowledge of what I had done. Looking wildly around I located the limp form I had so recently occupied. “Sam” lay, apparently unconscious, still bundled in the trenchcoat, eyes closed. Did I really look so frail? Not anymore, I thought, looking down at Ms. Rose’s body, and cursed myself with every profanity I knew. But she had pulled so hard, reaching out to me, her emotions clutching at my consciousness, and I had slipped, I had let her drag me, unknowingly, out of my body and into hers. I could still feel her, the collection of memories and thoughts that were “Ms. Rose,” hovering at the edge of our mind. She was frightened and confused and in no state to deal with this inquisitive, stupid man who stood over us, blinking through his enormous spectacles.
“I’m fine,” I said, trying not to flinch at the high-pitched sound of the words. “How is…how is Sam?”
The doctor glanced briefly to the unmoving body. “Physically, Sam’s fine. Heart beating, lungs functioning, all that. But I might, um, I might be able to do more for…Sam if…” He leaned in close, and even his thoughts were sweaty, “Would you happen to know, Ms. Rose, whether Sam is a boy or a girl? No one seems to be able to tell me, and I, well, I thought it rude to check.”
It was all I could do to keep from snarling at the man, but at least he had had some shred of decency. “It’s all right, doctor,” I said. “If you could just give me a moment alone with Sam, I might know what to do.” I admit—I cheated. I do my best not to influence others’ thoughts and opinions when I can possibly avoid it, but at this point such manipulation was my only option.
The doctor suddenly found it a very good idea to be somewhere else. He all but fled, as did the three or four people hovering anxiously nearby—colleagues of Ms. Rose, as far as I could tell. I rose and crossed the small room—the nurse’s office, I realized—and shut the door firmly before turning back to face my prone body.
What’s going on, Sam? Ms. Rose small voice was barely audible at the back of our mind.
It’s all right, Ms. Rose, I assured her, It’s all going to be all right.
Without another word, quelling her fear and confusion, I placed her slim hand on my cool forehead. The engagement ring winked at me in the overhead light, and I took a deep breath, silently praying that this would all one day be just a nightmare she could tell her husband. Then I gathered my mind up, holding myself as compact as possible, and focused on the empty, defenseless brain I had once inhabited. With all the strength of my will and Ms. Rose’s body, I surged into myself.
Ending Two
I ran. I did not think of where or how or if, I simply fled. Somehow I managed the fence, and only later realized that I had left my coat behind when I scaled it. My legs pounded, my heart hammered, my breath came in short, unhelpful gasps until I collapsed, sprawled on something soft—grass, I think—and let the darkness take me.
When I awoke, it was to warmth covering me, softness below me, and…an emptiness in my mind. I blinked, opened my eyes. “Mommy, mommy, it’s awake!” came a shrill voice to my left, and I started. A little girl in a beflowered dress gaped down at me, her brown eyes round. Shivering despite the blanket, I reached out for her mind, felt nothing! In the first instant panic consumed me, but it was only my panic, only my mind it consumed. I laughed, for the first time in my life I laughed and laughed until tears rolled down my cheeks and I could not draw breath.
A cool hand on my forehead, a concerned face that looked like the adult version of the little girl’s. “Are you all right?” came a soft voice. “What’s your name?”
Gradually my laughs subsided, and I drew in deep, wonderful breaths. “Sam,” I all but sobbed. That other name had no hold on me now—no normal person would be called by it. And so I reveled in the simple, ordinary name I had been given by another normal person. “My name is Sam.”
Ending Three
I stepped back, deliberately separating myself from the crushing mental weight of the childrens’ minds, forcing myself to focus, to keep my defenses in place. Ms. Rose followed my gaze and blushed, her pleasure radiating out like a sweet scent. “I haven’t told anyone yet,” she whispered, holding the hand out for me to examine the diamond.
I took another step back, and either she saw the dismay on my face or I was lax at containing my emotions. “Oh, Sam!” she cried, and threw her arms around me. The physical contact only intensified the link between our minds, and I tried to pull away. “I won’t be leaving, Sam!” she explained, and for an instant I paused, sensing something welling up in her mind, just at the edge of my understanding.
“We’re going to adopt you, Sam! He and I—we’ve agreed to adopt you!”
