You stare out of the window of the cruiser, thinking that maybe you will see something that looks familiar, that looks like home. Unfortunately, NOTHING looks familiar-- you are well and truly lost.
Feeling tired-- passing a bank you see that the time is almost 11:00 PM!-- you find yourself starting to doze off. You wake up when you feel the police car start to slow down. Looking around, you find you are in a part of the city where small shops are scattered among older houses. Some of the houses have signs advertising rooms or apartments for rent.
The house you stop in front of has some sort of sign out in front of it, but the sign has no lights on it, and the name on the sign is some long word you don't know, with some smaller writing underneath which is too hard to read in the dark.
The police officer opens your door and you step out. Some guy is sitting on the porch of one of the neighboring houses smoking something which smells kind of like some sort of herb, and the police officer glares at the man for bit. Finally, he takes your hand and leads you up to the house you stopped in front of. The policeman rings the doorbell and returns to glaring at the neighboring house. The guy on the porch gets up and goes indoors just as the door in front of you opens.
"Yes?" asks a kind of pretty woman with long, black hair and blue eyes. She's wearing an old knit sweater over some sort of dress.
"Hi, I'm officer Harding. This is the boy we called you about," the policeman explains, gesturing toward you.
You look up at the two adults, trying to process the fact you once were an adult like them. Everything looks so big now, and so do these people. You think you were probably a little older than the woman, and taller. You aren't so certain about Officer Harding, though. He's probably taller than you were, maybe. Maybe older, too? Or is just because he's a sort of important adult, being a police officer and all? Maybe it'd be cool to be a policeman when you are bigger....
You realize you just missed whatever the two adults were saying to each other, but the officer is heading back to his car and the woman is squatting down to your level.
"Hi, I'm Ms. Wren," she says by way of introduction. "You can stay with us until the police can find your parents."
You feel a slight stab of fear as you realize they WON'T be finding your parents. They, your parents, probably still think you are a grown up.
"What's your name?" she continues.
"I, I don't 'member," you confuse softly, looking down at your feet. Didn't the police tell her you didn't know your name? Maybe they forgot.
"Well, that's OK for now," she replies, standing up again. "Let me know if you remember it.
"Now, let's see where we can put you."
She leads you deeper into the house. The house has a large, cluttered living room made up as some sort of common area. An older boy-- a teenager-- is draped over a sagging couch, staring moodily at a television set, flipping through channels with a remote. Another teen boy is leaning back in a beat up recliner, intently reading a paperback book of some sort.
"Anthony? Aaron? This is our latest resident," Ms. Wren announces, looking expectantly at you.
"Uh, hi," you say, feeling a bit intimidated by the bigger kids.
The teen with the remote looks at you with only a slight bit of interest.
"Hi," he says before looking back at the television.
The kid with the book merely grunts.
The woman looks disappointed-- it isn't clear if she is disappointed with the two teens, you, or both you and the teens.
"Back there is the kitchen," she says, pointing down a short hallway. "Did your parents teach you anything about cooking?"
You give her a shrug as a response, earning a sigh from Ms. Wren.
"That's OK, we have some of the older boys cook for the younger ones," she informs you. "But you will have to learn how to cook for yourself if you stay here any length of time. The same goes for doing your laundry.
"Say, you didn't bring any clothes or anything with you, did you?" she asks, looking down at you as the two of you reach a well used staircase.
You shake your head "no." How were you supposed to bring anything? You didn't HAVE anything when the police found you.
"Hm, we will have to see about getting you some more clothing, you can't keep wearing that all the time. All the residents have a trunk with a lock for their spare clothes and any valuables. Most of the boys are honest enough, but it isn't a good idea to test them. Remember that, uhm..."
She pauses, as if to let you provide your name. You just look back at her, and she slowly resumes climbing the stairs.
You go down a hallway and stop in front of a plain, wooden door at the end of the hall. Ms. Wren knocks twice, softly, before opening the door.
By the light of a nearby streetlight you see two sets of bunk beds, an old wardrobe someone painted white, and some trunks on the floor. One top bunk is taken by a skinny, black haired kid about your age, and the bottom bunk of the other bunk bed is occupied by a kid with lighter hair who is a bit bigger than you and the black haired kid. The bigger boy is looking suspiciously in your direction; whereas, the boy with the messy black hair looks as if he just woke up.
"Tyler, Daniel, meet our newest member," Ms. Wren says cheerfully. "He will be staying with you. Please show him around in the morning."
"OK," mumbles the boy in the top bunk, sitting up.
"What's your name?" demands the boy with the lighter hair. It looks kind of honey colored, now that your eyes have had a moment to adjust.
"I dunno," you confess. "I can't remember it."
"We could always call you 'Freckles'," suggests the dark haired boy, sounding as if he is trying to be helpful.
You blink for a moment. You have freckles? It occurs to you you haven't had a good look in a mirror yet.
"Naw," vetoes the bigger boy. "We had a dog named Freckles, and he doesn't look like him at all."
"Well, they do have a good point," says Ms. Wren. "We do have to call you SOMETHING."
"How about 'Red'?" the dark haired kid asks. He seems to be warming up to the idea of trying to come up with a name. "Or 'Green Eyes'?"
"I guess 'Red' might be OK," you reply, thinking of the girl who changed you. "Maybe I will come up with something better in the morning."
For some reason Ms. Wren sighs.
"All right, we can address that in the morning, after you have had a good night's rest," she decides. "The bathroom is down the hall on the left, if you need it. Tomorrow we can get you a toothbrush and other necessities."
With that she leaves, and you look at the two boys.
"I'm Tyler," the black haired boy states.
"I'm Danny," the other kid informs you. "Why'd you run away."
"Run away?" you ask, momentarily confused. It then hits you that everyone here thinks you ran away from home! Maybe Ms. Wren thinks you are faking not knowing your name...! "Oh..."