Becoming Johanna by C. A. Pack Page B

to steal it. No. She would continue to collect
her earnings, and when the time was right, she would
disappear.
     
    An elderly man with a
thatch of wispy, white hair arrived at Peakie’s Foundling Home one
evening and asked to speak with the headmaster. The girl manning
the reception desk relayed the message, but was told the headmaster
was too busy for visitors. The man smiled at her when she gave him
the answer. “Would you try again? Please tell him Malcolm Trees is
here with my annual gift to the home. I
wouldn’t want to leave with the donation still inside my
pocket.”
    She reluctantly returned
to the headmaster’s office and cringed when he blasted her for not
handling the visitor on her own. “But he says he has a gift—a
donation—and he’d hate to go home with it still in his
pocket.”
    That changed everything.
The headmaster rushed out with a smile plastered on his face. “Mr.
Trees, what a pleasure to see you again.”
    “ As you know, my
organization likes to present a small annual endowment to the home
for the betterment of the children here.”
    “ Yes, I know, and we fully
appreciate it.”
    “ I originally set it up to
help defray some of the costs of the little girl I brought
you—after she was abandoned in the Library of Illumination. I
wonder if I could see the child.”
    “ No … no. That would be
highly irregular. It would never do to single out one child. It
causes a disruption among the others—petty jealousies and
mean-spiritedness. I couldn’t possibly allow it.”
    “ I was really hoping to
check in on her, to make sure she’s okay.” He took a check out of
his breast pocket and looked it over. “Of course, if she’s not here
because she’s been adopted, then there’s no need.” He folded the
check and placed it back in his pocket.
    “ I’m … I’m sure there
wouldn’t be any problem if you just look at her from a distance.
That way the others won’t think she’s getting special
treatment.”
    Malcolm Trees relented.
“That will have to do.”
    The headmaster sent the
receptionist to ascertain Josefina Charo’s whereabouts and inform
the matron about their visitor. A short time later, they stood at
the entrance to a cafeteria, where lines of children waited to get
their dinner.
    “ The children all look
rather young to be the girl I’m inquiring about,” the visitor
noted.
    “ That’s because she’s not
in the food line,” the matron said. “She’s behind the counter,
serving peas and potatoes.”
    The visitor’s eyes
flashed. “She’s hardly old enough to be working here. It looks more
like indentured servitude to me.”
    “ It most certainly is
not,” the matron spit out. “She gets paid.”
    “ Oh,” the visitor said,
nonplussed. “What about her studies? This can’t be helping
her.”
    “ She has completed her
studies,” the matron replied. “She’s a sharp one, but not so sharp
as to outwit me.”
    “ Has there been trouble?”
Malcolm Trees asked.
    “ No. And there won’t be if
I have anything to say about it.”
    “ You see,” the headmaster
broke in, “Josefina is too young to send out on her own, and jobs
like this allow her to build up her skills for when she ultimately
leaves us.”
    “ If she finished her
studies two years early,” Malcolm Trees mused, “I can’t help but
think she’s gifted. So you can understand why I’m concerned that
you’re building her skills as a cafeteria worker rather than getting her advanced
tutoring.”
    The headmaster reddened.
“This is just one of the jobs she has here at the home. It’s not to
teach her how to be a cafeteria worker. It’s to teach her
responsibility and self-sufficiency.”
    “ Yes, I see,” the visitor
answered. I see only too well.
     
    A few weeks later, Cook
brought Josefina to the market with her. The sights and sounds
outside the home were not what the girl expected. Just one block
away from the foundling home, a village square bustled with people
going