Young Writers Society

(Quick summary: When Henri first came into my care I had a lot to learn, but slowly we were getting the hang of things. When I got called into her school for a meeting however, I realised we weren't getting the hang of things fast enough.)

I felt like I was six years old again, sitting on a child-sized chair outside the Calm Room. The Calm Room was were meetings happened, and was so named in attempt to help kids relax. It was a place of quiet, tranquillity, and no defences.

Henri told me that if something bad happens you either go to the Quiet room or the Calm room. The Quiet room was were kids went if they were too loud or naughty in lessons, and were they got told off. The Calm room was where teachers sat you down to give you biscuits and talk in soft voices.

She told me the Calm room was scarier. ‘They’re like you.’ She told me. ‘They only have that whispery sound in their voice when something is wrong.’ I’d never noticed that before; it was another thing that Henri was far too observant about.

I also later realised that Henri was familiar with both these rooms.

It was Friday 3rd of February, and already we were being called in to talk to what had been called a ‘family mentor.’

A woman with curly white hair who I came to know as Marylin, called us in.

‘Good afternoon,’ I said and bowed my head respectfully to her. ‘I was asked to come and see you?’

‘Yes.’ She smiled at Henri and closed the door. As soon as the colour and activity had faded from the corridor an unnerving silence fell over us like a rain cloud during playtime. Henri gave me a ‘see what I mean’ look.

The room was decorated in a way that seemed like a cross between a psychiatrists den and a postal office. The walls were plain, except for papers dotted around on several corkboards. Filing cabinets loomed over us as we sat each on a large, soft chair that couldn’t decide whether it was meant for comfort or work.

Marilyn was an interesting woman in appearance. Her skin was fair and smooth, making her look around thirty. The white of her hair and the frownful creases around her mouth added another twenty years.

‘Henri’s teacher showed some concern, so one of our investigators came to talk to them and Henri, and it seems you’ve been added to my case list.’ I nodded.

Mental note #1, ask Henri about this ‘talk.’

The meeting was tedious. We were there for a while as she examined everything she could about my background, family and financial status, and my ability to care for a small child. I cut out most of this chapter, since I’m sure you would have as much enjoyment reading it as you would reading someone else’s exam paper.

She asked me about why my parents and I are estranged, and about my relationship with Maurita. I told her everything except the truth, and she believed it.

I told her I was a mature child, and my parents gave me a slightly unstable environment, so I lived with and was raised by my grandfather. When I got old enough to move out and live on my own, I did so, after all my grandfather was getting too old to take care of a teenager.

Let’s ignore the answers to the questions I had asked myself as a child, like, ‘Which one of these women in the picture is my mum?’ and ‘Why did Grandad sell his house and go to Vegas?’

Best not to dwell too long on those.

Once she seemed happy, Marylin proceeded to talk about legal guardianship, and how it would be easy to obtain once they had tracked Maurita down and been assured that she was happy with Henri in my care.

She told me she worked with kids like us. Usually it was in the event that parents die and older siblings must care for younger ones, but my case was not much different. She was here to introduce me to the world of parent care, that was based on a program tailored to our needs.

Her main priority would be Henri, and the location of our meetings would be Henri’s school. The Family Mentor was someone who was called in to help solve a problem. She was the last step before social services got involved. Marylin in particular was part of a division that specialised in young carers of children.

‘Now for the bad news.’ She said. ‘There are some problems which need to be addressed immediately.’ She pulled out a piece of yellowish paper and started to write as she spoke. ‘Personal hygiene.’ She underlined it. ‘Is this something you are aware of.’

It had never occurred to me, but I could think of many, many times I ignored the bath problem instead of going through the ritual fight. ‘I leave Henri in charge of her own.’ I said. I didn’t really need her to tell me the importance of it.

‘She’s five years old. She’ll strive for her independence, so let her practice it, but not own it. As a guardian you have to set the rules for her to follow.’ I looked at Henri, who didn’t seem pleased with the comment.

‘Lunches.’ She underlined the next word. ‘This school doesn’t provide lunches, so it’s your job to give Henri adequate food to bring to school each day. I’m going to give you this.’ She handed me a booklet about child nutrition and feeding tips.

‘Turning up late.’ Another underline. ‘I would suggest you make an agreement with the teachers to hold on to Henri until you see them to collect her. She also needs an emergency contact in the event that you’re held behind, someone who can come to pick her up.’

She paused then and looked at me sternly. ‘An issue I can’t ignore is that I was told Henri went missing a while ago.’

‘Ah, that. That was the independence thing I suppose.’ I was struggling. ‘She had walked home alone, and when she found I wasn’t there she went to the rooftop.’ Lies, mostly.

‘The rooftop is accessible to children?’

‘Yes, but it has safety fencing all around. We don’t have a garden, so that’s where I take Henri to play.’ More lies. She then went on to ask about my own social and school life.

‘You should also speak with your teachers and let them know of your situation. They will probably be a bit more lenient about deadlines and such.’

‘Yes, I will do.’ Lies, lies.

‘I’m sorry to have held you so long. We’ll contact you about the next meeting, which will be in about a weeks time.’ She clicked her pen and smiled at me, folding her arms conclusively.

‘Okay, thank you very much. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.’ That right there, is total malarkey. ‘Goodbye.’

I left. In the hall I grabbed Henri’s hand and we made a quick exit.

‘What a toad.’ Henri said once we were out the gates. I felt so proud of her.