Roughly a year had passed since Lunan's arrival at Higgins' Orphanage, and as the months came and went, so too did his hopes for adoption. During one of his monthly meetings with Mary, they discussed his future at the orphanage and what he could realistically expect concerning his prospects.
"Although you're eleven years old," she said, "There's still a decent chance a loving family will welcome you to their home."
That day had yet to come. Believing in his caretaker's words, Lunan held onto the hope of an expedient adoption until four more months had passed, marking his sixth month without meeting anyone. One day when browsing online, Lunan wanted to confirm the veracity of Mary's claim, and was dismayed by her deception.
She knew that Lunan had already passed the upper limits of peak adoption age. The chance of getting adopted decreased sharply after age ten, when the kids looked less fresh faced and their eyes were more hardened. Every day for Lunan between his tenth and eleventh birthday was a steady countdown to the gates of freedom and opportunity closing until he turned eighteen. Fortunately, for Lunan, about a month later, potential adopters visited the orphanage. As the new year came into fruition, the symbolic time encouraged people to consider adoption.
Although if they really cared, thought Lunan, they wouldn't wait until it was fashionably acceptable to start looking.
In spite of Lunan's cynicism, he wasn't one to balk at opportunities. He figured he had some things going for him, recalling the many times women would stop him and his mother in the supermarket to fawn over his enchanting, mismatched eyes. Indeed, the child garnered much attention from visitors. Lunan endeavored to make a good impression, but like his efforts to make friends, they were in vain.
For the remainder of his eleventh year, he watched with heartbreak as every potential adoption fell apart. There were two groups of people that took interest in him. The first were the ones that commodified him, seeing Lunan with a sense of amazement, but never looking beyond his appearance. Although Lunan wasn't fond of these people, his desperation pushed him, and it still hurt when they inevitably rejected him because his background clashed with their desired aesthetic.
The second group's rejection cut deeper because he actually wanted them to take him home. Those families were genuine in their interest and many of them visited Lunan on a frequent basis; one of those families was even kind enough to take him out for ice cream on multiple occasions. The most recent of this kind to turn him down was an elderly couple suffering from empty nest syndrome. By the time Mary shed the unfortunate news, it was the fifth ideal family that passed him over. Lunan had no outward reaction, although his heart clenched painfully when she shared the news. In spite of his regret, his curiosity persisted.
"Did they say why they're not interested anymore?" he asked.
'Why does no one want me?,' is what he wanted to say.
Mary huffed. "It's a bunch of nonsense. They said something about having bad dreams about the adoption. They even visited a psychic who told them the dreams were bad omens. I can't believe people are still so superstitious these days."
"Yeah," is all Lunan could force out. After Mary departed with more kind words, Lunan processed the full weight of what she said.
He immediately thought of Heather. Who was he to call on spirits and order them around, to drive someone to their emotional breaking point no matter how much they hurt him? Lunan didn't believe in karmic justice, but it certainly seemed like the universe was punishing him for his decision. If this was the consequence for hurting Heather, no matter how much he felt she deserved it, he would bear it as stoically as he could manage.
To avoid the inevitable pain that came with potential adopters, Lunan drove people away. If he was fond of the library before, he practically lived in it now. Whenever he heard from Mary or through the grapevine that visitors planned to come, Lunan took refuge in the library and hid among its shelves. He established a routine of bringing books and art supplies with him to pass the time. Lunan deduced early on that the library repelled more than Heather and her thugs. For whatever reason, people generally avoided the place. Even among those that regularly perused its shelves during the school year, few of them frequented once classes ended in May. Also, since potential adopters wanted to see as many children within their allotted time, they went to the more densely populated areas of the building.
It was a balmy summer day; most of the children were on a field trip to the Museum of Fine Arts. Lunan had declined going and had spent the day reading in the living room. He was engrossed with the comic book he had until Mary's trailing voice broke his concentration.
"It appears that you're the only person visiting today. We don't get many visitors this time of year."
Lunan's forehead wrinkled as he shared her bemusement. He shook his head, rose from the couch, and made a detour to his room for supplies before heading to his sanctuary. He took a deep breath upon entering the library, appreciating the stillness. The few regulars who roughed out the summer heat were absent. He grabbed a beanbag chair, went to the reference section, and pulled out his sketchbook.
He stared at it for a while and wondered what to draw. The white sheet blurred as his thoughts trailed to his eleventh birthday which came and went a few days prior. Mary made everyone's birthday a big deal and preferred celebrating with fanfare. Lunan no longer took enjoyment from the day and would have rather passed it without acknowledgement. Although disappointed, they compromised and she had an assortment delivered from Georgetown Cupcakes. On that day, all he could think of was two years ago, the horrors outshining the highlights.
Lunan sighed and pushed his emotions down. He didn't intend to fall into a rut that day and wanted to appreciate it. He hated how thinking of his parents sank him into depressive moods and wanted to rectify that. His goal in mind, Lunan set out on drawing a portrait of his family, but because humans weren't his strong suit, he decided to draw a family of deer instead.
As with any artistic activity, Lunan was so consumed by it that he failed to notice his surroundings. He didn't notice the library's heavy door open. What jarred Lunan from his focus was the barely audible, "I swore he was in here."
Lunan stilled. The unfamiliar voice sounded like the stranger Mary was showing around the place. He swore she didn't notice him leave the living room. Otherwise, he would have heard her singsong voice call out to him in the way she did when introducing the children to visitors. His thoughts turned apprehensive.
Lunan breathed shallowly, hoping the silence would deter the strange man. But like a bloodhound to prey, he made his way to him. When Lunan could clearly hear his footsteps, he let out a slow breath. If this person insisted on seeing him, Lunan would briefly entertain him before turning him away so that he could resume his work.
The footsteps finally came to a stop at the head of the aisle Lunan was nestled into. Lunan's eyes were trained on the man's boat shoes before they trailed the length of his body. The two observed each other for a long moment. The man's outfit complimented his footwear, with a pair of well-fitting jeans encasing muscular legs partnered with a maroon button down. Despite their exaggerated height disparity, Lunan approximated that the man was quite tall, perhaps exceeding his father's stature. Full-bodied light hair framed his strong face, and his burnt sienna eyes met Lunan's heterochromatic gaze.
"Hello there," he said. "Why are you on the floor when there are plenty of chairs available?"
Lunan didn't budge and ignored the man's gesture to the nearby furniture. He backtracked on his decision to entertain the stranger.
"Who are you and why were you looking for me?" Lunan asked. The man took a step forward, but stopped his advance when Lunan's body tensed further.
"I wanted to make sure I saw all of the children here," he said. Lunan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"You picked a bad day to see what we have to offer," Lunan quipped. "I heard you talking to Mrs. Higgins and I know you didn't see me. Why are you lying?"
A smile—or was it a smirk—quirked his lips.
The man held up his hands in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged. There's no mistaking it; you really are theirs."
"What?"
His smile dimmed. "You're Michelle and Robert's son, right? I'm Gabriel. I was a friend of theirs."
Lunan blinked hard at hearing his parents' names, the 'was' in Gabriel's statement serving as another reminder of their passing. His cheeks colored and he immediately regretted his initial hostility. But his parents had few friends, and Gabriel's face was an unfamiliar one.
"How did you know them? I've never heard of you and I don't remember seeing you at my house before," Lunan said.
Gabriel's smile returned. "I first met them shortly after your mother was pregnant with you. They still lived in Winfair at the time. They wanted to live a quieter life, and so although I knew they were in Ridgeway, I struggled to visit due to the distance," he explained.
"I see. Did you just find out about their...passing?" Lunan struggled with the words, and sympathy flashed in Gabriel's eyes.
"Yes, I only found out recently. It was a shock to everyone in town. It's such a tragedy for them to depart from you at such a young age." He looked at Lunan as if expecting him to ask something, but Lunan wasn't sure what.
"And so you wanted to see me because I'm what's left," Lunan concluded.
"Is it alright if I grab a chair?" Gabriel asked. Lunan nodded and accepted the redirection. Although he felt less alarmed with Gabriel's presence, he appreciated him keeping the distance. "Why run to the library of all places? Don't you feel lonely in this large of a space?"
Lunan stared hard at Gabriel and tried to prevent showing how much those words affected him. Although they just met, Lunan felt a sense of kinship with the man. Maybe it was because Gabriel was the closest link to his deceased family. Perhaps Lunan clung to this person for giving him the time of day and making him feel like a person again. Regardless of which reason held greater sway, Lunan abandoned his reservations and confided in the man.
***
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