Oakley

My heart faulters when I approach the building. The sign next to the large glass door nearly has it stopping completely.

’Indianapolis Social Services’

A blast of cool air hits me in the face and blows my hair behind me as I open the door. It smells like a clinic, everything is too clean and perfectly placed. I study the directory on the wall next to the staircase until I find the correct room number.

I take the stairs up to the third floor. The third floor is less put together than the main entrance. A musty smell has my nose crinkling in disgust. The wallpaper is peeling near the ceiling and suspicious stains mark the carpeted floor. Halfway down the hall I find my destination. Room 309. I knock loudly before pressing my ear against the door, trying to hear any noises. There’s some shuffling, then a feminine, “Come in!”

I crack open the door, “Macy Worths?” I ask. The lady behind the desk nods at me with a curious stare. I close the door behind me as I enter the office and go up to the desk covered in paperwork and yellow folders with papers peeking out. A large wooden hutch stands behind her. Framed pictures of a young girl smiling sit on the shelves along with various nicknacks.

“My name is Samantha and I was told to come find you in case of an emergency,” I take a deep breath, looking into the woman’s eyes before reciting the set of words that Marcus had forced into my memory, “Grim And Morally Evil Over Virtuous Existing Righteousness.”

Her eyes widen in recognition and fear, “It’s really over?” she asks after a moment’s hesitation.

I nod and stare blankly through the window behind her desk, “I was told to come to you if anything ever happened.”

She looks me up and down while grabbing the keys on her desk. The chair she’s in squeals as she turns her back to me.

All I was given was a quick glance over her shoulder before she moved one of the larger picture frames, revealing a metal safe. A key was inserted into the main lock. It made a clicking noise while a small thin door swung open, showing a keypad for a code. Her head once again turned to see if I was looking and then she used her hand to shield my view as the code was entered.

The thick door to the safe flings open, showing more files in disarray. She rifles through them and then pulls one out with a small victory cry. She doesn’t seem organized with anything in her life. Her wrinkled blouse has horizontal stripes that contradicts the vertical stripes on her pants. Her office has random chairs scattered about and most of them are covered with different colored papers.

Macy closes the safe and locks it before handing me the file, “This is yours, you’re very lucky that you have a family.”

I look at her confused, “I have a family?”

She smiles at me with pity swarming in her eyes, “The file should explain everything. Please sit and read it. Afterwards I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

Ignoring her command to sit, I open the folder.

Oakley Williams

Female

DOB: May 6

Eye color: Hazel

Hair color: Blonde

Age when missing: 4

Oakley Williams went missing at the county fair on September 4th, 2009. She was last seen wearing a pink coat and pink rain boots. A witness claimed that she was picked up by a short brunette woman. If any information is known please call 1-800-hot-line

“Is this true, or another lie?” I ask, my voice shaking in anger.

She blinks at me, shock written all over her face at the hostility in my voice, “This is real. I was given this file about 5 years ago. Apparently you were taken from the fair by a woman named Lia, who sold you 2 years later to Marcus. I really thought you knew.”

I vaguely remember Lia. She was a brunette with a crooked nose who always smelled of cigarette smoke. She was a kind woman but I never knew why I hadn’t seen her again. Now I know.

I stare at the small black and white picture on the first page of the file. It’s me, but younger, much younger.

“I’m not going. I can’t.”

Macys eyebrows furrow in confusion, “But you’re free. This is what Marcus intended to happen.”

My head tilts to the side, “I will never be free. Just because Cali’s Kids is over doesn’t mean there aren’t others looking for me.”

“How long has it been since it shut down?”

“Four months,” I respond.

Her head bobs up and down slowly, “Exactly, it’s been four months and I’m assuming no one has come for you in that time or you wouldn’t be here.” She holds up her phone with a triumphant smile, “And if you don’t go then I will call the police and report that I found you.”

My eyes snap to hers as I approach her behind the desk. My tall frame towers over her as my face fills with fury, “Are you threatening me?” I place my hands on the armrests of her chair, trapping her there.

The woman recoils and shakes in her seat, “I-I legally h-have t-to. I-it’s protocol.”

I snatch the phone from her hand, “Screw your protocol. It’s not protocol to hold files of missing kids and yet you do. I can easily tell the authorities what you’ve been up to.”

“I didn’t mean to make you mad! I just think you should take the opportunity to be a normal kid.” She whimpers.

I straighten up, carelessly throwing her phone on the desk and walking away from her. She relaxes more and more with each step I take away from her. Once I’m on the other side of her desk I study her face. She doesn’t seem to have ulterior motives and I can tell she’s not lying.

I’ve always wanted a normal life. Every time I pass by a child with their parents I get this overwhelming sense of desolation at the thought that I’ll never have that. But now I can, and with my real family.

The only thing stopping me from jumping into a new life is the thought of me getting attached to someone only for them to get hurt because of me. I can’t let that happen.

“Just give it a chance,” Macy pleads, “If it doesn’t work out then you can leave them. I’m sure you have the resources to do that.”

I nod my head, “Fine.”

She seems shocked and I roll my eyes at her. People who know the real me are always surprised to find out that I want to have a normal life. I think they assume that I like what I do.

The next pages of the file are various pieces of information that I skim over, not having the patience to fully read. The last page is a handwritten note.

’My dear Pet,

If you’re reading this then Cali’s Kids is officially dead and I am gone with it. I hate the thought of never seeing you again but I always knew this day would come. As my first successful creation I expect you to carry on the legacy I created. Do what you need to do until you have a chance to rebuild what I started. You will know when that time is. Never forget what you are.

Expect the best. Prepare for the worst.

Marcus.’

My face and neck flush with anger. The note shakes as I hold it in my grasp. I read it multiple times, trying to process the words before I fold the paper and slide it in my back pocket to look at later. I take multiple deep breaths to calm myself.

I push the note to the back of my mind and cleared my face of all emotions, “What do we do now? Where do we start?”

“We need to go to the police. Were you told a cover story for if you were ever caught?”

“I was taken by an older couple, they both passed away and I was left to fend for myself.”

She clicks her tongue in thought, “That should work. Just tell the police you were tired of taking care of yourself so you decided to turn yourself in to social services. Tell them that the couples name was Mark and Robin. Say they never let you leave the house,” She pauses before continuing, “Tell them that Mark and Robin had weird rules, like no questions, but were nice otherwise. I’m sure you don’t need to hear this but I’m going to tell you anyway; tell no one the truth. Stick to your story, never waver. I need you to lie like your life depends on it.”

I nod, “I’m aware.” My life does depend on it.

She raises a thin eyebrow at me, “Are you sure you don’t want to know more about your family before we go? You’re going to be living with them until you’re at least 18.”

“It will sound more genuine if I don’t know anything and I won’t have to refrain from talking about something I shouldn’t know about.”

She smiles at me, “Do you have your bags?”

“I don’t have any.” I say while folding my arms, the file still in my hand.

She grabs the file from me and took out a thick stack of papers.

“What are those for?”

She glances at the papers and then back to me, “These are your medical records, fake of course. Whenever a kidnapped child is found it’s protocol to take them to the hospital to have a full body check-up. These papers will say that I already took you and that you’re fine to go home. I just need to fill out the date on some of these and then I need to get your hospital bracelet filled out.”

I roll my eyes, “Marcus was nothing if not thorough.”

“And scary,” Macy mumbles under her breath.

I scan through some of the other papers while she finalizes the fake documents. Accordig to the policer records my birth family never stopped looking for me. I can’t help but wonder if they would still want me back after meeting the new me. I’m definitely not four anymore and I am far from innocent.

She picks up the keys on her desk again and grabs a bright red purse from the floor, placing the papers inside. “Follow me,” She orders, motioning with her hand.

I follow her out of the office, waiting as she locks the door behind me. She leads me through the building and outside to a parking lot where she walks up to a beat up green car. She manually unlocks her door and then presses a button inside the car, making the passenger door that I’m standing by unlock with a click. A strong wave of menthol and fast food hits my nose when I open the door, making my eyes water.

“Why did you help him?” I ask as she turns out of the parking lot and onto a main road.

“Hmm?”

“Marcus. Why did you help him? Did he have something over you?”

She peeks at me from the corner of her eye before focusing on the road again. “A little over six years ago my daughter was diagnosed with cancer. I was a single mom and being a social worker doesn’t exactly pay much. Her cancer treatments were expensive and I fell into debt. It got to the point where I almost lost my house and car. I’m not sure how he knew about me, but Marcus called me and made me an offer. If I helped him then he would give me a large sum of money. I was desperate and agreed before I knew what he wanted me to do.” She takes a ragged breath, running a hand through her hair. “When I found out I wanted to take it back, but it was too late and I was too desperate for his help. I took the money and was given your file along with some other children’s as well.”

“Who were the other children?” I never got to know this side of Marcus’ business.

“I never met them, but every once in a while I would get a call from Marcus telling me to burn a file. I assumed the child was deceased.” She explained.

Her last statement has me humming in confirmation.

“You were actually my last file left from him,” She admits.

“What happened to your daughter?”

Her face turns grim, “She got the treatments and then went into remission two years later. Two years after that it came back but it progressed too quickly and there was nothing we could do. She passed away ten months ago.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say emotionlessly.

The rest of the car ride is silent besides the boring jazz music being played through car speakers.

When we finally arrive at the police station the parking lot is empty except for some police cars and a beat up pick-up truck. I open the car door and step out, enjoying the fresh air that doesn’t smell like Macy’s old car. Macy walks to the station with me behind her. Before she opens the door she turns to me, murmuring over her shoulder, “Let me do all the talking for now.”

Without waiting for my response she opens the door, forcing a wave of cool air to wash over us, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. There’s a couple policemen milling about. Two are in a corner whispering like old ladies. We walk up to the front desk and Macy waves one of the gossiping officers over. The officer is middle aged and was sporting salt and pepper hair and a small gut.

“What can I do for you?” He asks with a forced smile.

Macy’s face remains expressionless, “I have a missing person with me. Oakley Williams. She showed up at my office.”

The officers eyes widen and he shouts out, “Somebody call Sheriff Lewis!” His eyes flicker to me and then back to Macy, “Is this her?”

“Maybe we could go somewhere a little more private?” She inquires, looking around at all of the officers staring at us with curiosity.

The officer motions for us to follow him. My eyes rake over the large building and I note all the cameras and exits as we’re guided to a small room with table and chairs. The table has a landline phone and a box of tissues in the middle. It looks like a crappy conference room.

Macy sets her purse on the table, but we both remain standing.

“I’ll send in the sheriff when he gets here, it shouldn’t be too long.” He closes the door behind him, leaving Macy and I alone in the room surrounded by silence.

“Oakley-“

I cut her off by throwing my arms around her neck so it seems like we’re hugging, “Don’t say anything, there are cameras in here.”

I pull away and watch as she glances at all the cameras in the room. I roll my eyes at her lack of subtlety.

“Are you nervous?” She settles into a creaky wooden chair.

I shrug, “I’m not sure.” It’s a lie. I have never been so nervous, there’s a war going on inside me. My mind is screaming at me to leave and never look back, but that little girl inside of me that always wanted a family tells me to stay.

We sit in silence for about fifteen minutes according to the clock on the wall before there’s a knock at the door. It opens and an older man, closing the door after him. He holds a stack of papers under his arm, close to the large pit stains on his button up dress shirt. He’s nervous. His face is dotted with sweat, his eyes flicker between Macy and I.

“I’m Sheriff Lewis, it’s nice to meet you.” He wipes his hand on his slacks then shakes Macy’s hand. “Can I sit?” His hand waves towards the seat next to me. As soon as I nod in confirmation he’s sitting. “This must be very strange for you, but I’ll try my best to help you understand what’s going on. However, first I need to ask you a few questions.” His eyebrows furrow when he sees the impassive expression on my face. “Can you tell me what happened?”

I sat up and looked at him. “My dad died about a year ago and my mom died about four months ago. I’ve been trying to live on my own but realized I needed help,” I lied. “I walked to the first child and family services building near me and found Macy.”

“What were your parents names?” He questioned.

“Mark and Robin. They were really old and had a bunch of health problems.”

“What-“

Macy cut him off, “I have already asked her these questions at my office.” She pulled out some papers from her large red purse and slid them to the Sheriff.

He pursed his lips as he read them over and then nodded his head in approval. “I’ll still need to ask some more questions just for clarity and details, but right now we should get you to the hospital to be checked over,” His eyes glanced over me. “You seem to look fine but I’m afraid it’s protocol.”

Macy grabbed more papers out of her purse and slid them over to him, “I already took her. I knew it was protocol and I figured she would be more comfortable with a female escort.”

“You didn’t have to do that Ms…?”

“Macy Worths” she answered.

“Ms. Worths. Thank you for your help, but how come the hospital didn’t contact us?”

“Well...” She started.

“I asked them not to,” I interrupted, noticing Macys lack of answer. “I don’t like hospitals and I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. I knew that if they called the police that I would be stuck there for hours.”

His eyes showed pity and I looked away, “I understand.”

Sheriff Lewis studied my face, but I kept it blank. He clasped his hands together, resting them on the table. “What has Macy told you?”

“Well she told me that my parents aren’t actually my parents and at the hospital I heard them say that I was a missing person. My name is Oakley, right?”

“What you heard is true. Your name is Oakley Williams and you went missing at the age of four, no one has seen you since. Do you remember being with anyone other than Robin and Mark?”

“No, should I?”

“It’s not surprising since you were so young. I’m going to ask you some more questions. Some of them may be the same that Ms. Worths asked but I need you to be as specific as possible. Some of these questions are not going to be easy.”

I nodded my head.

“The medical reports show signs of abuse, did Mark and Linda ever hurt you?”

I figured this question would be asked. I was covered in little scars and it would be hard to explain unless I said it was abuse. I knew Marcus would have put that in the reports to settle any suspicion.

“Um, sometimes. Usually it was when they were drunk or I disobeyed them.”

“Did they ever…” he hesitated. “touch you?”

I shook my head and he looked relieved at my answer.

“What did they tell you your name was?”

“Samantha”

He nodded his head, “Do you know their last name?”

“I asked and they didn’t tell me.”

The questions continued. I answered them as truthfully as I could while keeping up my cover story. The less lies I told the less I had to remember. When I couldn’t answer a question I would just stare at him until he moved onto the next one. Every once in a while, he would take a few minutes to write things down on a piece of paper before continuing. Macy stayed quiet the whole, time just listening to my answers.

The sheriff finished asking me questions a few hours later, “I think that’s all the questions I have for now. Thank you for being patient and honest, Oakley. Would you like some water?”

I nodded my head and he looked to Macy who also nodded her head.

He left the room with the stack of papers he brought in and all the ones that Macy had given him. He came back after a while with two plastic cups filled with water. I chugged mine down quickly, realizing how thirsty I was.

“Thank you,” I muttered setting my now empty cup onto the table in front of me.

He didn’t sit down as he talked to me, “Your parents,” His eyes widened, “I mean your biological parents are waiting outside. They’ve been here for an hour. Would you like to meet them?”

I shrugged, knowing I would have to meet them eventually.

“Don’t worry, they’re just as nervous as you are.” He gave me a gentle smile. “They’ve already been filled in on the important details. They know that you’re healthy and a little scared. I told them about some of what you told me about Robin and Mark so that they were aware.”

I glanced at him, slightly annoyed that he had told people that I was abused. I think I would have been annoyed even if it wasn’t a lie, that was personal information and I didn’t want people walking on eggshells around me or treating me like I’m broken. I despised pity.

He smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, but they needed to know what to expect and how to properly handle yo-this situation.”

I rolled my eyes at his slip up; I didn’t need to be handled and I would not be treated like a child.

On the contrary, however, all I wanted to do at that moment was run and hide just like a child would do. A life changing moment was about to occur but I couldn’t tell whether it was for better, or worse.