Emily Out of Focus

by Miriam Spitzer Franklin

  “Emily,” Mom warned.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. I was trying to have a good attitude and I really wanted to be an adventurous, daring person like Nana. But it was hard when you were hungry and everything on the table looked, well, DISGUSTING. I was sitting there dreaming about real Chinese food, the kind we got at Wang Fu’s at home, when Mei Lin reached for my water glass.

  “AAIIIEEE!!” she cried out.

  I jumped out of my seat as the flood of cold water splashed across the seaweedy broccoli and onto my lap. “Mei Lin!” I yelled at her. “Look what you’ve done!”

  Mei Lin burst into tears. This time when she started shrieking, it was louder than ever before.

  While I took a napkin and tried to dry up some of the water that had splashed all over my clothes, Dad stood up from the table. “Well, I guess this brings this dinner to an official end.”

  ***

  “Look at it this way,” Dad said as he opened the hotel carry-out container full of French fries and onion rings, “You win some, you lose some.”

  “I sure am glad Mei Lin decided to spill the water,” I said, reaching for an onion ring. “We’d still be stuck at the worst restaurant ever if it weren’t for her.”

  “I wouldn’t say the worst restaurant ever,” Dad said. “How about that one we stopped in on the way home from Florida?”

  “We’d been driving for hours and couldn’t find a place to stop—” Mom said.

  “And everyone was getting so cranky!” I said, jumping right in. “And when we went inside it was crowded and everyone was drinking these great big drinks with little umbrellas and the food was really gross!”

  “We were so hungry we ate it anyway,” Mom said with a laugh. “And we didn’t notice the sanitation sign until we walked out. It was a 72! The lowest rating I’d ever seen.”

  We started talking about all the bad restaurant experiences we’d had, and by the time we’d finished off the hotel junk food, I’d decided there were plenty of awful restaurants back in the states, too.

  “So, what are we doing tomorrow?” I asked as Mom got Mei Lin ready for bed. “Can we go to Orange Lake?”

  “We’ve decided to go on the trip to the orphanage after all,” Mom said.

  “Oh.” Disappointment shot through me. “Mei Lin would like Orange Lake much better.”

  “Maybe. But this is an important trip, both for us and Mei Lin.”

  I didn’t bother to ask why, but I didn’t argue with them either. “Is everyone else in the group going?” I asked.

  Mom nodded. “So you’ll have Katherine to talk to. You two have hit it off, haven’t you?”

  “She’s really nice,” I said. And sneaky, I thought to myself. For a moment, I wished I could tell my parents about Katherine’s plan to find her birthmom. There was so much about adopting a baby from China that I still didn’t understand and keeping secrets from Mom and Dad made me feel a little funny inside. But there was no turning back now. I’d made a promise and Katherine was counting on me.

  I finished off the last onion ring and threw the container in the trashcan. “We’re not going to be there all day, are we?”

  “It’s a long drive out in the country,” Dad said. “So it might be a long day. Better get a good night’s sleep.”

  As it turns out, I was more tired than I thought. All of us went to bed a little while later, and I only read for a few minutes before my eyes started to close. I fell fast asleep.

  It seemed like I’d just dozed off when Mei Lin’s screams woke me.

  Mom flicked on the light and jumped out of bed. “Mei Lin’s warm,” she said, her voice on edge. “Do you know where the thermometer is, Dan?”

  Dad rolled out of bed and searched for the thermometer. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, glancing at the clock. 2:31. “Is she okay?” I mumbled.

  “We’ll see,” Mom said as she tried to quiet Mei Lin down. “Go back to sleep, Emily.”

  I closed my eyes, but I could hear my parents’ worried voices. Next thing I knew, Mei Lin was throwing up formula all over Mom, then Dad. And then she started to howl even louder.

  I sat back up again. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s all right,” Dad said in a tired voice as he cleaned up Mei Lin. “Babies throw up sometimes.”

  “Did you find the thermometer?” I asked.

  “She has a low-grade fever, only 101,” Mom said as she rocked her.

  But what if her temperature goes up? What if she has the stomach flu and gets really sick? I thought to myself but didn’t ask out loud. Mom and Dad seemed like they had things under control and I didn’t need to make things worse by asking a bunch of questions.

  I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep even though my head filled with worries. After a while, the room became quiet again. Dad yawned and climbed back into bed. Mom gave Mei Lin some medicine and put her back in the crib then turned off the light. I listened for Mei Lin’s steady breathing until I finally fell back asleep.

  Mei Lin slept until almost eight, and so did the rest of us. When she woke up, she wasn’t crying, just lying in the bed making baby sounds. Her fever was gone, and she drank up the bottle Mom gave her. I watched her carefully from a distance to see if she was going to puke afterward. When she didn’t, Mom and Dad decided it was safe to go on the trip to the orphanage.

  “We gave her some medicine and I’ll pack towels just in case,” Dad said to me with a wink.

  “I’ll get her pink baby blanket,” I said.

  “Thanks, Emily.” Mom let out a long breath as we headed downstairs for breakfast. “I’m just glad the fever’s gone.”

  “Me too,” I said, and Mom squeezed my hand.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  China, DAY 4, 4/6/14

  Dear Diary,

  I’m worried about Mei Lin. She woke up in the middle of the night with a fever and she threw up all over the place. I had a hard time going back to sleep even after she settled down. What would happen if she got really sick and had to go to the hospital? How could we help her if we couldn’t understand what the doctors were saying?

  Here’s something else I’m worried about: Mei Lin is so tiny and maybe she’s not strong enough to fight off infections. She only weighs SIXTEEN AND A HALF pounds, which is the size of a seven-month-old, not the size of an eighteen-month-old. I know because I looked it up just now and that’s what I found out and it’s the truth.

  This morning her fever’s gone, and Mom and Dad seem to think it was just a cold and she’ll be okay. I never thought about it before, but it must be tough to be a parent and try not to worry about all the things that could go wrong with your baby.

  Well we’re off to the orphanage today! I was hoping we’d skip the trip because it sounds like another boring day. How will I ever find any good photos for Plan B of the contest if we spend all our time in government buildings?

  Love,

  Emily

  (whose sister is hopefully not sick anymore)

  An hour later, we were on our way to the orphanage. Mom still had a concerned look in her eyes, but Mei Lin seemed fine except for a few sniffles as she leaned back against Mom, sucking her fingers.

  It was a long drive. We left the city, and soon we drove out into the country, surrounded by nothing but green fields and rice paddies. After a while, Mei Lin fell asleep, and Mom wasn’t far behind.

  Katherine turned around from the seat in front of us. “Do you want to sit with me, Emily? Over there?” She pointed to an empty pair of seats across the aisle.

  “Sure!” I said, jumping up quickly. There were too many parents close by to discuss our Guangzhou plans so Katherine and I talked about normal stuff like school and friends and hobbies. I even decided to tell her about the photojournalist contest, though I didn’t tell her that “Girl Finds Birthmom” was a topic that might give me the winning entry.

  “I like to take pictures, too,” Katherine said, “but I’m not that good at it. Mom says I’m too much in a rush to sna
p the picture.”

  “Well,” I told her, “That’s one thing Nana taught me. You have to be super patient.”

  “That would be great if you won,” Katherine said. “I’ve never been to New York.”

  “We go to the city a lot. You just take the train and the subway and you’re there in an hour and a half,” I said.

  “Lucky,” Katherine said.

  “But the camp is at a college, so we get to spend the week in a real dormitory,” I said.

  “Cool,” Katherine said. “Will you let me see your project when you’re done? Even if you don’t win, it will be really special to have all those photos of when you first met Mei Lin.”

  “My project’s not about Mei Lin,” I told her. “The judges don’t want to see a bunch of pictures of a baby.”

  “But it’s not just a baby,” Katherine said. “It’s your sister. You’re supposed to tell a story in the contest, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Getting a baby sister is an important story, don’t you think?”

  I shrugged and glanced over at Mei Lin, asleep in Mom’s arms. “I’m thinking I’ll take photos showing China’s beauty,” I said. “Unexpected and expected.”

  “Well, that’s up to you. But I think you’re missing out on a winning entry. Hey, guess what I like to do for fun?”

  “What?” I asked her. I knew she was a great swimmer, and Mrs. Bresner had bragged about how she’d been playing violin since she was four and had been on a gymnastics team since second grade.

  “Fix people’s hair,” Katherine said with a grin. “I could French braid your hair if you want.”

  “Really?” I looked over at the long twisty braid that hung over one shoulder. “You do your own hair?”

  “Sure! Someday I want to have my own salon. Katherine’s Creations. What do you think?”

  “I love it!” I said.

  “Mom doesn’t. She thinks fashion and hair styling are a waste.” She lowered her voice and leaned in closer to me. “‘With your brains, you can write your own ticket. You can be a doctor, lawyer, whatever you dream of!’” Katherine frowned.

  I nodded, totally getting what she was saying. “Mom and Dad think I should be an engineer someday since I’m good at math. But I want to be a photojournalist. That’s why I want to win the contest—to show my parents I’m serious about it.”

  “Then you should take my advice,” Katherine said with a grin. “Tell the adoption story. The judges will love it.”

  I shrugged. “We’ll see,” I said, my stomach flipping. I didn’t tell Katherine that’s what I hoped to do, only I’d be telling her story instead of Mei Lin’s. Technically I’m not lying, I tried to convince myself. I just told her Plan B instead of Plan A.

  “So, you want me to braid your hair? It will look great, I promise.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  ***

  An hour and a half after we left Changsha, we arrived at the orphanage in YiYiang City. I kept running my hand over the back of my head where Katherine expertly braided my hair. I couldn’t wait to get to a mirror, so I could take a better look.

  A security guard opened the iron gate for us. I stared at the two stone lions sitting on both sides of the entranceway until a woman greeted us at the door. “Welcome to YiYiang Orphanage,” she said. “Today we will give you a tour and meet in the reception room afterwards. Is everyone ready?”

  Everyone nodded and followed her down the hallway. Daycares are usually noisy places, so I expected to hear the chatter of little kids, laughter, shouts and squeals. In the background, I thought I’d hear music like you’d hear in most preschools. Instead, this place was strangely quiet, except for the sound of some babies crying.

  “First we will go to a room where the infants are sleeping.” The guide put her finger to her lips and opened the door to a small room with ten cribs lined up across it. None of the babies were actually asleep. Some were wiggling around, and one was crying.

  The cribs were little and close to the floor. My heart skipped a beat. The babies were strapped to the railing. I tugged on Mom’s hand. “Why are they strapped in?” I whispered.

  “I guess they’re afraid the babies might fall out,” Mom said in a quiet voice.

  Chills moved up and down my arms. Mei Lin had slept here, strapped into a crib when she was only a few days old. When she cried out in the middle of the night, did anyone come?

  I glanced over at Katherine. She stood close to her mother, hugging herself with her arms, her mouth in a straight line.

  The guide took us to the toddler room next, where the older babies slept. She opened the door to show us a room full of cribs in neat rows, all with straps. I counted quickly—six rows of six cribs each, mostly empty except for a thin blanket.

  In my baby pictures, I had a shiny white crib with a soft colorful blanket. An assortment of stuffed animals, even though PuddleDuck was the one I loved best. A musical bunny mobile spun around above my head.

  Mei Lin let out a cry. I looked over at her. She had turned her head away from the cribs, rubbing her face back and forth against Mom’s shoulder. Mom reached for a tissue to wipe her nose.

  “She’s okay,” Mom whispered to me. “Just a little sniffly.”

  “Everyone is playing now,” the guide continued. “I will show you the playroom where they have fun,” she said, moving us out of the room quickly.

  The playroom was full of babies and young children. I started counting but it was hard to keep track. I spotted a few girls with cleft palates, like Madison, a little boy with hearing aids and another with thick glasses. Mei Lin stopped fussing as soon as we entered. There were only two ladies trying to keep an eye on all of them. One sat in a chair rocking a smaller baby who was crying.

  When they saw us standing in the doorway, the room filled with squeals and excitement.

  “She wants you to play!” the guide said when a baby crawled right over to me and tried to pull up on my legs.

  In the meantime, Mei Lin had spotted the walker, attached to the wall with a strong rope, just like Katherine had said. This must have been where she spent a lot of her time. She struggled to get out of Mom’s arms, but the tour guide wouldn’t let us stay, which made Mei Lin start fussing again.

  “We have to go,” I said to the baby whose hand was on my knee. I tore my eyes away from her, and all the others who’d spotted us and wanted our attention.

  We followed the guide to a clean room where everyone ate, stocked with high chairs, and after that she showed us the room for baths where they used a big sink for a tub. The tour didn’t last long, and I knew the guide had only shown us a small part of the orphanage.

  “What’s down there?” I asked as we walked right past a long hallway.

  “That’s where the older children stay,” she said. “Come, it is time for refreshments.”

  Older children. The word echoed in my head. Older meant they didn’t get adopted when they were babies. Almost everyone wanted babies or young children, not eight or nine or ten-year-olds. That’s when the truth hit me.

  If they weren’t adopted when they were little, they grew up in the orphanage, without a family of their own. I knew they were the ones on the Waiting Children list, children who might never find a home.

  As we followed the guide to the room with refreshments, I looked over at Mei Lin in her red dress. She had quieted down by then, and when Mom fed her bananas and cookies, she ate them right up. We’d brought gifts for the orphanage staff—a box of chocolates, a red envelope with money in it, and a bag of clothes and toys for the orphanage.

  We were finishing up our snacks when Mei Lin let out a loud shriek. All of a sudden, she was squirming in Dad’s arms and shrieking away.

  “Looks like Mei Lin recognizes her nannies,” Lisa said, pointing to some of the orphanage staff who had entered the room.

  Mei Lin reached her arms out in the direction of the ladies.

  “Do you want to go see the nannies?” Lisa asked Mei Li
n. From her cries, it was clear she did. One of the ladies broke into a huge smile when she saw Mei Lin and started talking away in Chinese.

  “She says this is her special baby,” Lisa explained. “That Mei Lin used to get jealous when Nano held anyone else. She wants to know if she can hold her.”

  Mei Lin squirmed to get out of Dad’s arms. He handed her over, and she stopped crying. Nano spoke to her in a quiet voice, rocking her in her arms.

  Nano held her for a long time, until it was time to go. Then she handed her back to Mom. Mei Lin started hollering again, reaching for Nano. As we walked out of the orphanage, Mei Lin was crying like I’d never seen before.

  My stomach sloshed in a funny way. As we left the building where she’d spent the first eighteen months of her life, I stayed close by her side.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Mei Lin didn’t stop wailing, even after the van started moving. Mom held her and rubbed her back, then passed her to Dad to try to calm her down. I sank down into the seat next to them. What had my parents been thinking, bringing Mei Lin back to the orphanage? Mom said she wasn’t feeling well because of her cold, but she didn’t start fussing until she saw the cribs. Had she been worried we would leave her there? After she saw Nano, was she confused about where she belonged?

  I closed my eyes, trying to get the pictures out of my mind: the nursery lined up with back-to-back cribs and the playroom overflowing with babies and toddlers wanting our attention. Then there were the rooms we didn’t see full of children in wheelchairs, or with Down syndrome, children who might have been missing a limb, or had heart trouble, or were born with other problems that weren’t as easy to cure as a cleft palate.

  As I thought about those rooms filled with children waiting for a home, I wished I’d never made the trip to orphanage. The images of what I’d seen would be etched into my mind, forever.

  Mei Lin’s jagged sobs pulled me away from the orphanage and back to where I sat in the van. I took a deep breath, her cries cutting right through me. Finally, I tried something that I hoped would work. I pulled out my camera, trying to distract her. “Mei Lin,” I said, “Look over here.”