The Child On the Milk Carton

Drag; verb: Pull (something or someone) along forcefully, roughly or with difficulty; take (someone) to or from a place or event despite their reluctance; noun: the action of pulling something forcefully or with difficulty; act of inhaling smoke; clothing more conventionally worn by the opposite sex.

Mumble; verb: Say something indistinctly and quietly, making it difficult for others to hear; noun: A quiet and indistinct utterance.

Penetrate; verb: Succeed in forcing a way in or through (a thing); infiltrate an enemy or group to spy on it; (of a man) insert the penis into the vagina or anus (of a sexual partner).

He had it coming. If you knew him you would know he had it coming. He was my father I guess on paper but I had always had a nagging feeling about him like he really didn't want me but had me only for my mother’s sake. He was abusive, dictatorial and  hard to live with. Friends were out as were boys. If mother hadn't objected I wouldn't even have been getting a driver's licence. 

When I asked my mother how she had met him and made me all she would do is mumble. When I tried to penetrate the layers of deceit I discovered the truth. I wasn’t my mother’s biological daughter or his either. I was a child on a milk carton.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I was eighteen and had demanded my birth certificate for the umpteenth dozen time and had been stymied with a fake one they had produced. I took that to get my beginners driver licence and the clerk at the licence place said to me...

“You are lucky I’m going on a break kid trying to fake your age with a fake id. I should call the cops, but you look like a nice kid so I’m not going to.”

“I don’t understand.” I protested

“Fake Id? Give it up kid.  The gig is up, unless you want me to change my mind and drag you to the cops?” she had said

I left then I was afraid she’d call the cops. I didn’t understand what was going on. Then when I started thinking about all the times I’d look at my blue eyed blonde parents and wondered how they could have produced a brown eyed blonde I put it together. Either I was adopted or… I had been stolen.

I went home and began searched forums and missing children’s faces on the internet and that is where I found it. My picture… it was me at two years old. I was shocked no wonder my pictures had begun at two years old. I read the few details on the internet could this really be me?

Missing Cecilia Everett

Parents Louisa and Carl Everett

91cm tall weight 13kg

Last Seen in Arva, Ontario

On July 12, 1995

At Roundtree Park

I read if you have seen this child call 1-800 and some other numbers that blurred before my eyes. Where was this Arva? These people were my parents? I had been stolen? There had to be some other explanation. I decided to talk to my Father. I printed off a copy of the missing child flyer and placed it in my purse.

I went to his office on the second floor and was ushered into his office by his secretary.

“What’s up Lorie?” he demanded “Why are you here.”

“Is it true did you take me?”

What are you talking about now Lorie?” he demanded

“This !” I said throwing the flyer on his desk and watching him closely

He unwound the sheet of a paper and I watched as he turned pale and then he burnt it in front of me with a lighter he pulled from his desk drawer.

“Yes this child looks a little like you Lorie but it’s not you. You are our natural child. Haven’t we given you everything you’ve ever wanted? Put this foolishness aside. “He demanded.

“Why did you take me?” I persisted

“Stop this foolishness now.” he commanded again “What are you doing?”

“I am settling this once and for all.” I said dialling the 911

“No you are not.” He said grabbing my arm then continued pleading “Think of your mother .She doesn’t know. She thinks we adopted you.”

I have to admit I was torn for a moment I loved the woman who thought she was my mother. I hesitated and he grabbed once again for my phone.

        We struggled and moved closer to the window. I fought him and we went sailing through the window falling to the ground below. As I said he had it coming. I however did not. He had taken me from my family so he deserved his death. No I didn’t die, but I was in a coma for three long months and hadn’t been able to tell anyone my discovery. My ability to speak was impaired when I awoke.

I had worked months and now I was sure I could tell them what happened. I was worried about my Mother though. She had stayed by my side through of this her love shining over me encouraging me to get better. To say I was torn was one thing. As I struggled to say the words and nothing but a mumble came out a couple entered my room. The woman stood my height and had blonde hair and brown eyes; the man was tall over six feet and had brown hair with brown eyes.

“Lorie I know what your father did now. I’m sorry he hurt you. Lorie, I didn’t know then. Oh I’m not explaining this well. I know you found what he did Cheryl your Dad’s secretary finally told me what really happened. “she paused her dabbing her eyes appealing to me.

"I hope you know, I didn’t know. I couldn’t have taken someone’s child. I thought you were my daughter and you always will but this couple are your real parents. Robert took you from them. This is your real Mother and Father, Louisa and Carl Everett. They have kindly said I could remain in your life and they wouldn’t prosecute me for your Fath ..er…my husband’s doings.”

“Cecilia my baby.” the woman said reaching for me crying.

“Mom.” I managed to croak out and am enveloped in her arms and his.

I've recovered now I can walk and talk. I live with my parents and I am learning about them as well how to love them. My mother has moved to Arva to be close to me in fact she bought a house next door. I thought they be angry at this after all she had me all these years but they are special people who love me enough to share me. They tell me that is because I am Cecilia “Lorie” Everett and they never stopped loving me even  I was the child on the milk carton.

©Sheilagh Lee  August 31 ,2011