Teddi's Wish   Where did I leave that bus ticket. I can’t stay here any longer. They just don’t understand me. I wish mom didn’t die.

Dodge City, Kansas…

Teddy Kubelski winced as he heard the front door open and close. Living in a home where he was misunderstood was painful enough; that they didn’t try hurt even more. He breathed a sigh of relief, hoping the peril had passed. A moment later his worst fears were realized as a “where is that fucking kid?” came from the living room. He looked out the window and saw that his bike was leaning on the side of the house by the kitchen door, so escape such as it was would be on foot. If he was going to make the move, it had to be right then and there. He went to open the window when the door opened up. Standing there, all five-foot-six of him, was his foster mother’s son.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re goin’?” Kenny asked as he grabbed Teddy by the scruff of the neck, pulling him back away from the window. Before he could answer, the young man threw Teddy against the wall next to the closet door, sending a model of a 57 Chevy Nomad crashing to the floor, shattering in more than a few pieces and stirring up the accumulated dust of seven years of neglect. The room had been Kenny Pollack’s when he had grown up, and it had been passed along to any boy unfortunate enough to land at the Pollack house through the foster system.

“Look what you fucking did, you little faggot.” That Kenny didn’t consider Teddy’s orientation mattered not; he just called every boy that his mother cared for a faggot. He grabbed Teddy and pushed him back against the wall.

“Where the fuck is my money?” Kenny said meanly but in a voice almost too soft to hear.

“I told you…they don’t give me the money…your mother gets it and she spends it.”

That Kenny continued to get it wrong despite his mother’s twelve year history as a foster parent wasn’t lost on Teddy; if he hadn’t banged his head against an old nail righ then he might have laughed at the irony. But then again, probably not. Instead, he began to cry.

“What a little shit…you calling my mother a thief?” Again the misconception took precedence over the obvious and Kenny hit Teddy in the mouth with a hard slap, causing his lip to bleed.

“Nnno…Just a second…please…” Kenny was about to hit the boy once more when Teddy reached into his pocket.

“Here…this is worth a few hundred dollars…my Mom gave it to me…”

His hands shook as he produced a plastic case with a 1972 Lincoln penny, double obverse; it was worth over $500. Its 1969 companion was worth in the neighborhood of $30,000. It was almost too sad and painful to part with, since it was the last connection he had to the past, and Kenny was taking it like it was just milk money. But two broken ribs (unattended) and a sore lip, plus a secret that would likely get the boy killed loosened the grip on his treasure.

“Fuck…what a fucking wimp,”

Kenny said as he tore the case out of the boy’s hand. And with that, he walked out of the room, laughing as he ignored the boy sitting on the floor against the wall, crying over one more loss in a brief but painful history of losses. Teddy’s mother had been killed in a car accident along with his baby sister Claire, and with no living relatives to adopt him he had been placed with the Pollacks only three months before.

In that short span of time, Kenny had stolen his Zune and his cell phone, along with virtually every dime the boy had. It had been nothing short of miraculous that the young man hadn’t found his one supreme treasure. And he wouldn’t get the chance. The boy looked down the hall and saw Kenny walk out the door and drive off.

He wiped his face with his sleeve, scratching his lip in the process and pulling off the already-forming scab on his lip. The tears kept flowing. He felt he could stand another beating, but losing that coin was like losing his family all over again. He took a deep breath and looked around. Kenny had taken most of his clothes, so there wasn’t anything left to do but grab the twenty and the bus ticket he had hidden under the table lamp and head out the front door.

Teddy walked up to the ticket gate and smiled.

“Excuse me, please? Would you mind telling me when the next bus to Wichita leaves?” He asked. The clerk looked up and smiled; her wide toothy grin was a welcome sight after three months of hell.

“Six-thirty-five or so; depending.”

“Thank you very much,” Teddy returned the smile, evoking,

“You’re welcome, young lady.”

Teddy smiled once again and headed toward the door to wait outside. In the space of a half hour, his fortune had turned a bit as the flight he so long awaited had finally come, and the recognition she so longed for had finally arrived. She pulled her hoodie back, revealing nearly shoulder length blond hair; very unruly perhaps, but still long.

Four hours later, she stood at the counter of the Riverside Cup of Tea. A young lady came up and smiled; just another blessing among small blessings, but a blessing to be sure.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m meeting a friend…Nancy Wadden?”

“Oh…that would be…” The girl grew red even as she smiled sweetly. A kindly looking woman, fortyish, came to the counter. The girl turned and spoke softly.

“This girl says she’s here to meet you, Daddy.” The girl giggled a bit; it never ceased to amuse her in a pleasant way.

“You must be Teddi. This is my daughter Janine.” The woman smiled and the girl beamed.

“Oh…I talked to you on the phone. I hope you like it here. You’ll be in my classes at school this fall, and I can introduce you to all my friends.” She smiled again and turned to help a customer. The woman stepped from behind the counter and led Teddi to a booth where they sat down. She smiled again; this was going to be alright, the girl thought to herself and the woman spoke once more.

“I’ve already talked with social services; they know about your situation, and I’ve got a nice couple from the Lutheran Church around the corner that you can stay with. Welcome home, Teddi… welcome home!"

The girl looked around and the tears began to flow, but for the first time in months they were tears, not of grief or pain but of relief and joy. She put her hand in her pocket and fingered the small plastic case … the 1969-S double obverse Lincoln penny secure in her hand. She sighed with a half-grin and pondered the woman’s words…

“Welcome home!”

Next: Kiera’s Wish