Last Page Of Fall

The air was filled with clapping and cheering, the children's excitement echoed in the hall of the orphanage. Annually, a group of kind-hearted locals would pay a visit to the orphans to at least still make them feel loved and valued. Every fall they'd host a party in the small center home to not more than thirty children, giving them early gifts for Christmas too. Brian and Elise enjoyed watching the kids jump up and down in an uncontainable joy, their faces lit like a Christmas tree. It was the couple's first time to take part in this simple yet overwhelming act, made them feel just how much they longed for a child.

They have been married for four years now and the heavens hadn't been so kind to bless them an offspring of their own. Not even one. Before marriage they knew it was going to be a matter of acceptance and true enough, they managed to live a happy married-life even in the absence of a child who would have completed the concept of being a family. But even those who were lucky enough to have the chance of once in a lifetime experience of parenting still ended up broke and unhappy in the long run.

They drove all the way from Boston, hoping that the autumn in Tennessee and the family whom they left behind four years ago would somehow breathe fresh air to their now lifeless- marriage. Their jobs no longer kept them too preoccupied not to notice and grieve over their misfortune, pushing them to their breaking point. Then an old friend from the state introduced them to the shelter although they weren't up for adoption. It never crossed their minds although their fertility tests were enough to let them know it might just be their only option. For a moment they simply just wanted to embrace these unfamiliar innocent faces and be a part of the tradition, until their hearts skipped a beat with the glimpse of an angel.

While everyone gathered and had fun, a little boy with a tan skin and a bit of short curly hair quietly seated in the far corner of the hall, his small study table filled with art materials. He was alone but didn't seem lonely. In fact, he even looked like his artworks were a lot more fun to do than playing with other kids his age. Neither did he appear to be bothered at all by the noise around him. He was focused down to the pair of scissors in his hand and the construction paper in the other, slowly and carefully cutting it into pieces. The moment they noticed his calm and appealing behavior, there was no doubt they were instantly drawn to his charm.

Brian stood still, arms crossed as he thoughtfully studied the little boy whose age he guessed not more than seven. He wondered why he seemed so distant, not even showing interest in any of the activities that was happening. The social workers in the orphanage most probably were used to it because they just let him have his space, he concluded.

" That's Charlie right there. Such a smart kid but doesn't want no company." A black woman said from behind as if answering his silent questions.

" Why is that? " He turned to see an unfamiliar lady whose face held kindness as much as the sound of her voice.

" His family was murdered almost two years ago; he was the only one who ran and survived." She said. " He was devastated and traumatized that he rarely talked to other people since then."

Hearing just this one part of the little boy's story crushed their hearts, there was that sudden pain that struck them to the bone. How could someone deprived an innocent child the joy and the life he would have been having right now at such a young age?

" That's terrible. What kind of monster would kill a whole family and leave a kid with nothing? " Elise felt her throat clogged. As a lawyer she has seen different faces of crimes and criminals, heartless and shameless, their evil doings brought to court for trials and she was used to it. Murders and murderers neither was something new to a cop like Brian. But all of a sudden they were no longer people of justice listening to an ordinary and common story.

They probably might be a little too late to sympathize and feel anguish for the unfortunate fate of little Charlie but somehow they were more than sorry for him; like he was their own child.

A married couple without a child and a child without parents. What a cruel world.

" But what was the motive of the crime? Do you have any idea? " There was a flush of concern in Brian's face.

" Oh yes but until now I don't think I believe it. Police said that Daniel, Charlie's father was involved in drug business, screwed up and ripped it all for himself, the lords got mad and sent a bunch of bad people to get back at him and his family as a payment."

"Is it true? " Elise softly asked.

" I don't know. " She shook her head. " Daniel was such a good man that's all I know. "

" Can we talk to him? " He gestured to the boy.

"Yes you can try but don't say or ask anything about what I told you. He won't tell you a word."

Right before Brian and Elise could turn their backs on her, they halted for one last advice.

" You're a cop, aren't you? Be nice to him. He's not fond of cops. The last time he saw a police officer for questioning, he ran off scared to death."

Good thing he wasn't on his uniform right now.

*

" Hi little man, what's your name? " Brian crouched down so he wouldn't tower over the child who was peacefully minding his own business. He asked with his friendliest of tone although they were already aware of his name.

For a couple of seconds Charlie just stared at him, never saying a word. There was a puzzled look in his round tanned face, his big brown eyes blinked at the sight of the stranger smiling before him. Then as if he found something good just by shortly examining his face, he then genuinely smiled, showing the little dimple on his right cheek.

" Hello sir, my name is Charlie." He cheerfully replied. Brian was usually called uncle by his nieces and nephews but never sir by any other kid like Charlie. His voice was small and soft, it sounded cute, polite and like a full grown man all at the same time. Brian chuckled at his pleasing manner and extended his hand.

" Hi Charlie my name is Brian and this is my wife Elise. "

" I see people shake hands but I don't know how to do it sir." He pouted.

" It's alright I will teach you then. " Brian reached for his little plump hand and shook it. " Here."

" Can I have a hand shake with you too honey? " Elise bent over, a wide smile stretched across her face. Charlie shook hands with her too. While the rest played games, the three of them made origami and fall trees out of construction papers.

*

Everyone couldn't be any happier that after two years since Charlie lost his family, he finally found a new home. The orphanage that took care of him and kept him safe from the bad guys, wholeheartedly waved him goodbye as he took off with his new loving parents. Brian and Elise did the best they could to meet all the necessary requirements for the legal adoption of Charlie even if it meant extending their vacation and setting aside work for a little while. They didn't have to think twice about taking the boy home and give him all the love he deserved like it was all meant to be. Charlie jolted with enthusiasm upon learning the good news, like he knew he was going to be in good hands. He willingly packed his stuff and all the art supplies the orphanage provided him.

Charlie was quiet for a while in the backseat while on their way back to Boston, gazing outside the car window. He clutched to the edges of his sketchpad that he refused to slide along with his other belongings in the trolley, as he broke the silence.

" Sir? Can I ask you a question? "

" Yes little man of course. "

"Are you a cop? " Charlie politely asked.

"Yes daddy is a cop." He smiled at him in the rear view mirror.

For a couple of seconds the boy was quiet again before he hesitantly asked. "Hmm...are you a good one or a bad one? "

Six years in service and nobody ever asked Brian such a thing, not even himself. It was unlikely that a uniformed man of justice was asked of his intentions when he was supposed to be nothing but pure. Especially by an innocent child. The couple turned to each other, both in shock.

" Of course honey daddy is a good police officer." Elise turned and assured him with a smile. 

Charlie was indeed a little man, Brian thought.

" Aren't cops supposed to be good and nice, little man? "

" Some are not." He pouted.

Afraid that they might scratch open the scabs of his tragic past if they dig further, they agreed not to be taken away by their curiosity, glancing at each other's likeness of thoughts. Elise then stirred the conversation before it could go anywhere unpleasant. As much as possible they wanted to help the kid fully heal in every possible way and a topic like this won't do any good.

*

With the boy's presence their house was no longer the same huge and lonely place. Charlie would come running down the stairs to greet his foster parents with warm hugs and kisses after work and they'd read him bedtime stories at night. He was like a bundle of joy, the miracle to all of their prayers and the savior of their marriage. They'd let him play and filled his study with tons of art supplies for Charlie who loved to make crafts. He would turn simple papers to pages of artworks, all symbolized the beautiful season of autumn.

He made sturdy pumpkins of different colors out of construction papers, stick people out of tiny tree branches that he gathered outside to form their bodies, the heads were different types of yellow, red and orange improvised fall leaves. Charlie also glued together his popsicles making them as wide as an adult's hand to make enough room for the eyes, mouth and nose; their painted heads represent their genders. And so much more. 

Brian and Elise would give him space when he felt like isolating himself with his arts, making more and more of them even if it was no longer fall season. Everything was fine and normal, and Charlie was nothing but an artistic and talented seven-year-old kid until an unexpected call unfolded a very alarming matter, bringing them to the verge of tears. 

Charlie's school teacher handed them a familiar object over the table which they remembered their son refused to share with them once and yet now it was being offered for them to see. It was the boy's most precious spiral sketchbook and as the teacher handed it to them, there was a hint of worry written all over her face. A look as if telling them that what she had to say was embedded in the pages. 

" Please don't get me wrong Mr. and Mrs. Andrews. Your son is a very smart and talented kid. I usually let him have his sketchbook in my class even at times he no longer does his lessons because I was under the impression that Charlie just wanted to express his creativity. But lately he seemed distant and distracted." she paused. " I retrieved it from his bag this morning...and I think there's something you need to see." 

Elise reached over to take it and she then started turning the pages with Brian closely examining it too beside her. There was nothing unusual with the first few turns; just a couple of drawings that Charlie sketched with crayola. There was a line of autumn trees, it’s leaves covering the ground. Walking hand in hand in the long and slim stretch of road were four stick human figures that appeared to be a mother and a father holding a little girl and a little boy in the middle. They had a small fenced-house surrounded with flowers, and some drawings showed the happy family had a picnic in the yard. The little girl who had three thin lines of hair that fell above her shoulder and a little boy who had only one curly hair sticking out atop his round head was happy to have a full basket of fried chicken. There were huge smiles on their faces just like their parents. For a moment it was like Brian and Elise were reading a moving diary that told thousands of Charlie’s autumn stories. In them they could see what a beautiful family he once had; and on the next pages were how they were taken away from him.

A glistening half moon was sitting above the small house lit with yellow bulbs, it seemed sound from the outside. The next drawing was the same apart from that this time there were three other figures of men wearing black holed balaclava masks standing on the porch. They had long guns that on the next pages were already pointing at the people inside. Everyone was scared, tears ran down the little children’s faces. Lines which appeared to be bullets flew everywhere, hitting momma and poppa. Little stick Charlie tried to be brave and raised a baseball bat over his head as defense but it was too late, even his little sister Tonya now laid alongside their parents. What could he do when he was only a little helpless boy? One of the armed men removed his mask because he was pissed off of Charlie running away towards the door. He ran as fast as he could until he reached the woods and hid himself from the bad guys.

The whole time Elise was turning pages after pages, tears were dripping from her eyes down to the paper, soaking it wet. She couldn’t help but cover her mouth, trembling in disbelief just like her husband. It pained them so much that they almost didn’t want to turn to the next and very last page. One more. Just one more and the puzzle would be complete. One more and they’d finally be able to fully understand what happened that day. The last page of the autumn sketchbook held the key to unfolding a bigger picture. 

The last page.

A stick figure of a tall man with angry brows and scary eyes towered over Charlie. Although it was poorly drawn, it still was clear to see that the stranger with broad shoulders was indeed the bad guy. A gold police badge hung close to his chest. Then Charlie labeled him: Daddy’s friend...a bad friend.

The next day Brian and Elise were on their way back to the orphanage. They knew they had to do something.

“ Are you a good cop or a bad one? “ Charlie’s odd question kept echoing in Brian’s head as he sped up. Elise on her side was weeping, determined to fight on behalf of the child if necessary. If his father was in fact a good man and was just a victim of false accusation, someone had to clear his name and they doubt Charlie’s illustrations were lying. An innocent child would never lie, especially their son whose eyes held so much honesty.