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Blog #6 - The Hulk

2,346. Caris decided that he’d counted enough sheep and flipped his pillow over to the cooler side. But this was his 6th time flipping the pillow so both sides were equally warm from his restlessness.

After the library, Caris had come home to Ms. Christie sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by a mountain of paperwork. Caris liked to imagine she was like an explorer exploring tall white glaciers in the arctic. Of course, he knew that her head in her hands meant that she would much rather be in the arctic than doing her paperwork. Since the storm, she had been working more and more trying to help her business rebuild.

When he’d walked in, Ms. Christie was so buried she hadn’t even noticed him so he assumed he was on his own for dinner. Even though he hated them, the only thing he knew how to make was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He made a sandwich, poured a glass of chocolate milk, and gave Ms. Christie a quick hug before heading to his room so as not to disturb her work.

That was 6pm. Since then, Caris had eaten, finished his homework, read the “Intro to Whittling” section of his new book, got ready for bed, got in bed, and had laid awake for the past two hours and 27 minutes. His thoughts kept him from sleep. He worried about Ms. Christie. She was his favorite foster parent so far. What if she decided that she was too busy with work and couldn’t be responsible for Caris anymore? Where would he go?

He checked the clock for the 17th time. His Iron Man alarm clock read 12:07. Just then, a light shone through his window giving his whole room a Hulk-like tint. It burned his eyes so Caris pressed his face into the uncomfortably warm pillow. He wished the light would go away. He wished he could stop worrying about Ms. Christie. He wished he could fall asleep.

The next morning Caris woke to the smell of bacon frying. He bumped into his door frame as he tried to stumble into the kitchen wiping the 5 hours of sleep from his eyes.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Ms. Christie sang over the griddle of chocolate chip pancakes.
“Aren’t we going to be late for school?” Caris asked.
“I already called your teacher and my boss to say that we had both gotten the stomach bug. I thought we could spend the day together. How does that sound?”
Caris couldn’t think of anything better but he felt uneasy. Ms. Christie had made his favorite breakfast complete with a glass of fresh orange juice. Maybe this was her way of making his last day perfect before she sent him to another foster home.

“Caris,” Ms. Christie started. “I was going to talk to you about this later. Maybe at the park after a big ice cream cone, but I can’t wait.”
Caris looked down at the smiley face of chocolate chips in his pancake. He knew what was coming. He almost got up to start packing his bags.

Ms. Christie started again, “Would you give me the permission to formally adopt you?”

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