“When will it be done?”

“I want the spoon!”

“I want the spoon! You can have the bowl!”

“Nobody gets the spoon or the bowl,” I reminded my little helper as I oversaw the brownie preparations.

The old kitchen of the orphanage was worn but clean, or at least it was before I started my cooking class. Now the place was covered in sugar and cocoa powder. The smell, however, hinted that our efforts were not in vain.

One of the kids stood in front of the oven with his back bent and his face nearly plastered against the glass. “Are they done yet?”

I clapped my hands on his shoulder. “Your nose will be done before them, now scoot over to the table. We’ll try them there.”

The kids didn’t need a second invitation but hurried over and climbed into their chairs. They craned their necks as I opened the oven door and drew out the large pan of chocolate goodies. Steam rose from the batter and the scent wrapped around me. I cut the goodies into even squares and set them on paper towels which I divied out to the eager children. They dove into them like starving wolves and soon not a single crumb remained on their makeshift plates.

Miss Wynn came in with another half dozen kids of various ages in tow. She stopped at the table and sniffed the air. “If the smell tells me anything it’s that you’ve outdone yourself this time.”

I grinned down at the kids and ruffled the head of one of them. “It’s all thanks to my little helpers here.”

A little girl of six tugged on Miss Wynn’s hem. “What about mine?”

“There’s still plenty left,” I promised her as I returned to the pan.

Soon all the kids were at the long table munching away or happily licking the remains from their lips. Miss Wynn stood beside me watching them with a soft smile. She leaned toward me and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Thank you.”

I shook my head. “It’s my pleasure. Really.”

“And theirs,” she added as she looked down at the kids. Half of them were still licking the crumbs off their plates. The other half were fighting over the cake pan.

“Lemme have it!”

“You had it last time!”

Miss Wynn clapped her hands. “That’s enough!” Her tone was gentle but there was an underlying warning. The children dropped the cake pan so fast it clattered to the table. “It’s time to get ready for bed and that means baths and brushing.”

The children slunk off their chairs and shuffled out the door. I smiled and shook my head at their forlorn backs as they disappeared into the foyer and up the stairs.

Miss Wynn’s gentle hand settled on my shoulder and I turned to find her staring curiously at me. “You could go now. They wouldn’t mind.”

I shook my head. “It’s okay. I promised I’d tuck Sarah into bed tonight.”

She sighed. “I know this sounds rather silly of me to say this, but you really do need to get out and see people your own age. There’s more to life than living in the past.”

I wrapped my arms around myself and dropped my contemplative gaze to the floor. “I know, it’s just. . .”

“You don’t think Mr. Right is waiting for you?” she guessed.

I laughed and shook my head. “It’s not that. It’s just, well, I feel like I’m waiting for something.” I grinned up at her. “I know that sounds stupid and it goes against what you taught me about making what I want happen, but that’s just how I feel about this.”

She patted my shoulder. “Well, if you should ever find what you’re waiting for then you bring him here.”

I rolled my eyes. “It might not be a guy I’m waiting for.”

Her eyes twinkled and she slid her hand off my shoulder. “We’ll see.” A crash and a scream came from upstairs.

“Miss Wynn!” a girl shouted. “Benny stole my shampoo!”

The mistress of the orphanage laughed. “Never a dull moment.”

Together we went upstairs to break up the fights and tuck many a bedcloth around a squirming child. I was seated on the edge of Sarah’s bed when the troublesome Benny scurried into the room with something clasped in his small hands.

“Look what Miss Wynn did with the sketch you made for me!” he told me as he thrust his prized possession in my face.

The surprise was a picture frame and tucked into the frame was a sketch of the young boy. I admired the simple but clean frame and nodded. “It’s very good.”

“Benny!” Miss Wynn called. “Time to tuck you in!”

“Coming!” Benny shouted before he raced out of the room.

Sarah stared up at me with those beautiful blue eyes of hers. “Can you draw me next?”

I cupped her cheek in one hand and smiled down at her. “Not tonight. Maybe next week, okay?”

She nodded and snuggled deep into the covers, but a strange expression marred the sweetness in her eyes. “Anna?”

“Yes, sweety?” I returned as I tucked her into bed.

“Will I still get a second name even if I’m not adopted?”

I pulled the covers to just below her chin. “Of course you’ll get a last name. Everyone gets a name when they leave here, even if you’re not adopted.”

“Do I get to pick my name?” she asked me.

“Well, you can, but the kids who leave here usually just take the name of the street,” I told her as I patted the sheets. “But don’t you worry. You’ll definitely get adopted. Now get some sleep.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. I stood and shut off the lamp by the bed before slipping out into the hall. All was quiet and calm from the other dozen or so rooms. Miss Wynn stepped out of Benny’s room across the hall and sighed. “That Benny is so excitable.” She paused and looked me over. “He reminds me of a certain little tomboy that used to hang around here.”

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I grinned as we strolled downstairs together. “You’ll have to tell me about her someday.”

Her eyes twinkled as we reached the foyer and I took up my coat and scarf. “Oh, definitely. I have many, many stories about her.”

I laughed. “I hope they’re not too incriminating.”

“Perhaps,” she teased as she opened the door for me. I stepped up to the threshold and she clasped my shoulder in one hand. “Be safe out there and have a good weekend.”

“You, too,” I returned as I zipped up my coat and ventured out into the chilly night.

All was quiet and dark as I trudged down the steps and along the sidewalk to the corner of the block. A tall street sign stood as a guide for lost travelers. I paused and looked up at the sign. Bold black letters spelled out the name of the street I had called home for many years. Roberts Street.

A soft but sad smile crept onto my lips before I stepped off the curb and made my way home. However, the night still had an adventure left for me.

I had gone a block when a car drove by close to the curb. The sewers were as ill-kept as the buildings and the passenger tires crashed into a large puddle close beside where I walked. The water flew up and soaked me to the bone. I heard laughter from inside the car as the occupants drove away.

I stood dripping wet on the sidewalk glaring at the rear taillights. It didn’t take long for my nose to detect the putrid odor of the water as it sank into my clothes. I dropped my arms to my sides and sighed.

“Just great. . .” I muttered to myself as I trudged down the road. “Six blocks of this.”

However, there was one option and I soon arrived at an impasse. The crossroads led northward the long way to my home, but heading forward to the empty lot would cut off those two blocks. The stench of my clothes decided for me and I hurried forward. There was a loose spot in the fence on this end, courtesy of my past experiences and many a local kid.

I ducked through the fence and into the empty lot. The place had always been a little creepy, being empty for as long as anyone could remember, but now eerie silence seemed to wrap around me. I almost tiptoed across the bare ground and my eyes flickered over the area as if I expected some wild animal to leap out of the shadows.

What I didn’t expect was for the ground to cave in.

I stepped into the center of the lot and a cracking sound echoed beneath me. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked down. Huge cracks shot out from beneath my foot and raced in every direction. I had only enough time for my body to tense before the ground gave way completely.

Terror tore a scream from me as I tumbled into the darkness. I landed hard on solid ground and the air was knocked from my lungs. Dust shot up from beneath me and covered me like a dry blanket. The two combined sent me into a coughing fit that didn’t clear until the air did.

That’s when I saw the tree.

I froze mid-cough and lifted my gaze to the grotto in which I found myself. The hole was some twenty feet below street level and twice that in width. Modernity had passed by the plant as pipes and electrical conduits slithered through the dirt walls on either side of the hollow space. Standing in the center of the grotto was a short tree but the branches stretched out to the very edges of the hollow, creating an umbrella with its thin and fragile limbs. The branches were covered by purple leaves that looked almost like petals, so bright and soft were they. They even seemed to give off a gentle light that cast the whole area in its gentle glow.

I climbed to my feet and gaped up at the tree. I’d never seen anything like it except in fairytales and legends.

Something shimmered on one of its branches. I squinted my eyes and beheld a small bright purple fruit in the shape of a pear. It clung to the branch by its silver stem and the smooth surface shimmered in the strange light of the tree.

I found myself unable to pull my eyes away from the mysterious fruit. Before I knew what I was doing, my feet moved forward, propelling me across the empty ground and up to the tree. I stretched out my arm and my hand wrapped around the fruit. A strange but soothing warmth emanated from the pear as I wiggled it. The fruit gave so easily that I stumbled back, cradling my treasure in both hands. I opened my cupped palms and watched in wonder as the fruit pulsed with light.

The glow brushed aside all the alarms going off in my head. I raised the fruit to my lips and took a small bite. It didn’t taste anything like a pear, or any other fruit I’d ever had. The outside was soft and sweet but the center was bitter and hard. Still, I couldn’t help myself. I closed my eyes and swallowed.

A strange warmth tickled my toes. I glanced down and my eyes widened. The soft glow of the pear now emanated from my feet and was climbing up my leg.

I screamed and dropped the fruit as I danced around trying to throw off the light. The glow kept up its steady advance and reached my heart. A sharp pressure struck me and the world began to spin. The light covered my eyes and blurred my vision, adding to the chaos as I began to feel light-headed.

I crumpled to the ground and fell on my side. The last thing I saw was the tree as its light faded and darkness took us both.