Crystal (Orphans 2)

I paused at the desk and opened the cupboard to see a computer all set up inside.

"Surprise!" Thelma cried, clapping "We got that just for you only two days ago. Karl priced them and found the best deal."

"It's very updated," Karl said. "I have you connected to the Internet also, so you can get your research done right in your room when you start school in a few weeks."

"Thank you," I said, overwhelmed. No one had ever bought me anything expensive. For a moment, it took my breath away, and I just ran the tips of my fingers over the keys to check that it was real.

"Now, don't you get like some of those other children we hear about," Thelma warned, "and spend all your time alone staring at the computer screen. We want to be a family and spend time together at dinner and watching television."

"Me, too," I said, nodding. I was really too excited to listen to anything she said. "Thank you." "It's our pleasure," Karl said.

"I'll help you unpack your clothes, and we'll see what new things you'll need right away. We'll make a list, and Karl will tell us where it's best to go, right, Karl?"

"Absolutely," he said.

"Oh, dear. Oh, dear, no!" Thelma said, suddenly putting her hand to her heart.

Mine skipped a beat. Had I done something wrong already?

"What's the matter?" Karl asked her.

"Look at the time," she said, nodding at the small clock on my computer desk. "It's a little past three. I'm missing Hearts and Flowers, and today Ariel learns if Todd is the father of her child. Do you watch that one?" she asked me. I looked at Karl for help. I had no idea what she was talking about.

"She means her soap opera. How can she follow that one, Thelma? She would proba

bly be coming home from school or still be in school when that one is on."

"Oh, I forgot that. Well, you know what I do when I have to miss a show. I videotape it. Only, with all the excitement, I forgot to set up the videotape machine. Do you mind waiting a little, dear? I'll help you unpack as soon as the show's over."

"That's all right," I said, putting my first suitcase on the bed and snapping it open. "There isn't much for me to do."

"No, no, no, Crystal, sweetheart." She reached for my hand. "You come with me. We'll watch the show together," she said, "and then we'll take care of your room."

I glanced at Karl, hoping he would rescue me as Thelma pulled me toward the door.

" Thelma, remember we have to get ready precisely at five to go to the restaurant," he said.

" Okay, Karl," she said. She was really tugging me. I practically flew out of the room.

"Welcome to our happy home," Karl called after me.

2 Another World

One of the biggest fears any of us orphans has is that when we do become part of a family, we won't be able to adjust to their style of life. We won't know how to behave at their dinner table, how to behave in front of the other relatives, how to keep our rooms and spend our time. In short, we won't know how to please our new parents. For us it would always be like an audition. We'd feel their eyes following us

everywhere we went, hear their whispers, wonder what they really thought. Were they happy they had taken us into their lives, or were they sorry and looking for a graceful way to give us back?

It was easy to adapt to life with my new parents, to know what they expected, liked, and disliked. There was nothing unpredictable about Karl. He was the most organized person I had ever met. He rose at precisely the same time every day, weekend or not.

"People make a mistake sleeping later on the weekends," he told me. "It confuses their body clock."

He also ate the same thing for breakfast every weekday, a combination of cold cereals, mixing the correct formula of fibers and grains with fruit. On weekends, he made himself an omelet with egg whites, or he had oatmeal and raisins. Although he was chubby, he paid attention to nutrition and wanted me to do the same.

What he didn't do was exercise. He admitted that this was a fault, but he made little effort to correct it, the closest thing being his purchase of a treadmill, after what he described as months and months of comparison shopping. I commented that it looked brandnew, and he confessed that he still had to develop a regular schedule for its use.

"Maybe now that you're here to remind me," he said, "I'll pay more attention to those things."

I didn't think he needed my reminders for anything. All of his things were organized and inventoried. He knew exactly how many socks he had, how many white shirts, how many pairs of pants and jackets, how many ties. He could even tell me how much each item had cost. What was even more impressive was he knew just how many times he had worn what and knew when something had to be cleaned and pressed. He serviced his clothes the way people service their cars, and when something had been worn, cleaned, or washed a certain number of times, he retired it to a bag marked "To be donated."