Nobody's Child by Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch

young,” said Ovsanna.
    â€œLet us not argue,” said Anahid Baji. “This is the way it shall be. Onnig and Aram and Gadar shall stay in this house. They are too young to go to school, and so there is no advantage for them at the orphanage.”
    Ovsanna let out a huge sigh of relief. “You are right, Mairig,” she said. “They are too young.”
    â€œMariam needs an education,” said Anahid Baji, “and her sister should stay with her.”
    Mariam swallowed back a sob in the darkness. She knew her grandmother was right, but the prospect of living at an orphanage was terrifying. She felt her grandmother’s hand grasp hers in the darkness and give it a reassuring squeeze. “You and Marta can always come back here if it doesn’t work out,” she said.
    â€œWe will give it a try,” said Mariam in her bravest voice.
    â€œWhat about me?” asked Kevork.
    â€œYou will be coming with me to the orphanage,” said Anna firmly. “You need a trade, and I need you near me.”
    The family settled into silence after that, pondering their newly minted future. Mariam tried to hold back her sobs, but the thought of leaving her grandmother’s house and all she held dear was too much for her. She bit the edge of her pillow and silently wept. Even more terrifying than leaving this home was the prospect of being separated from her baby brother. In her head, she knew that he was much better off staying with Ovsanna and her children,but her heart was breaking. One more part of her family was being torn away.
    Mariam pasted a brave smile on her face as she and her sister walked towards the stone gate that circled the huge orphanage complex. Kevork and Anna were mere steps behind them, but everyone was silent in their own thoughts.
    They stepped up to the street door, and then Mariam reached up and pulled a rope hanging from a bell at the top of the door. The bell rang once, and then the door opened just a crack.
    Mariam’s heart pounded wildly in her chest. Who would answer? And what did this place have in store for them?
    â€œWho is it?” a small voice from the other side of the door asked.
    Mariam peered through the crack, but didn’t see anyone, but then her sister said, “Hello!”
    Mariam looked down and saw one mischievous brown eye. Anna stepped forward. Crouching down so she could look into the eye, she said, “Miss Younger is expecting us. I am Anna Adomian.”
    The door opened wide. A little girl, perhaps five years old, with unkempt hair and a broad smile stood there. “My name is Paris. Mother Younger told me you’d be coming!”
    Mariam’s eyes widened as they stepped inside of the complex. It was huge. A city within a city. Directly in front of her was the kind of street Mariam had heard about inEngland and France. It was straight and broad and paved with bricks. The buildings on either side of the road were made of the same kind of uniformly sized bricks as the road, and they were several storeys high. They had hundreds of windows of plain rectangular glass that reflected the sunlight. As far as Mariam’s eyes could see, there was huge square building after huge square building. They looked cold and foreign, as far as she was concerned.
    Paris gestured with her hand for them to follow her, and then she scampered down the street.
    As the little group followed Paris down the street, Mariam was greeted with a number of sensations. She could hear voices floating from the buildings as she passed. She caught snippets of an arithmetic lesson, and then a flash of German grammar. Her nose wrinkled at a brief scent of chalk, and then of bread baking, and then of laundry soap. So much activity, yet no one in the street.
    Paris walked up to one of the buildings and knocked on the door. It was opened by a foreign woman with yellow hair parted in the middle and pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a