Page 33 of Cloud Storm

I have to make them proud of me. Even when they can’t see me. I couldn’t bear to think I’m shaming the enormous gift they gave to me. Every single step I’ve taken in this new life has been for them.

In all those lonely nights sleeping under a bridge, in a dirty alley or in a shelter, the only comfort I had was that I was doing something to grow and have the life they wanted me to have.

My dear brothers. What I would give to see them again. Just for a minute. To tell them I’m fine, to know what’s become of their lives. To know how they’re doing.

I’m pretty sure I’m an auntie now to precious kids I’ll never get to meet.

They are the reason I’m so determined to succeed. One day I’ll find them and make them proud of me. I’m working on it, I swear it. One day I’ll be worthy of their sacrifice.

I dry my tears with the back of my hand, raising my face to enjoy the gentle breeze. It smells of the sea, we are close to the bay, and it has always been strangely comforting.

We all are living under the same sky.

Of course, as crazy as it sounds, I hate the way it smells when it rains. Many people find it comforting and even romantic. I find it sad, regretful, depressing. That’s why I like southern California and made the decision to stay here. The weather is wonderful and when the sky decides to turn against me, I can get distracted by burning incenses, lighting candles, and baking cakes.

The latter is the grace I learned from my mother. We were in charge of the bakery at The Villa, so every day I met her in the kitchen for that purpose.

Between old iron ovens and battered pots I learned the way to my future. I worked in some shelters where I stayed, also as a helper in a coffee shop or two. It was difficult at first, at the young age of fourteen. Wandering the streets, looking for a place to stay and to earn some bucks to buy food. I took good care of the money my brothers gave me and never wasted it.

The wife of the guy who gave me that first ride taught me the basics, but I had to run away from them, because they wanted to go to Child Services since I was a minor at that time.

I was so afraid they’d send me back to The Villa.

I couldn’t go back there.

I wandered, I traveled around the country and I learned how to survive.

After almost eight years I ended up here in the city they called Plymouth of the West to start again. With no savings it was hard. I didn’t have any documentation and it took me several months to get my ID. My birth name was Stoltzfus, but I wanted something different. So when one day I saw something in the newspaper about a woman with the surname Wilkinson, I decided it was for me. No more Ariel Rebecca Stoltzfus, I became a new person. Ariel Wilkinson was born and I would be the person I was determined to be.

After some months of living on the streets, working here and there, I met Mr. Hatz, and he offered me the chance of a lifetime.

“Come and have a coffee with me,” he insisted, opening the door of his house wide.

“I’m not a whore, I’m not looking for that kind of job,” I replied with a frown.

He was a sixty year old man, tall and slim, with a friendly smile and kind eyes. But in these times you never know.

He laughed at my words. “I hope you aren’t,” he said. “Come with me, girl, I bet you’re hungry.”

Yeah, I was hungry, which was the reason I knocked on his door, looking for a job. Cleaning windows, taking care of the garden or even walking his dog. I didn’t care, if it was honest and helped me earn some money, I’d take it.

To my surprise, the house was pristine and smelled like homemade chicken soup. My stomach grumbled and Mr. Hatz laughed again. He guided me to his kitchen and after pouring two bowls of soup we sat at his breakfast bar to eat.

That day I told him about my life, about my family and my brothers.

I told him I was working to survive but looking for my future.

“I’ll help you,” he stated. Gosh, I had heard those words so many times I didn’t want to have high hopes. “I’m the owner of this complex, and I’m looking for someone who can come here and keep it clean; the gardens, the walking paths. I know I can hire a specialized company, but I have a feeling you would be perfect for the job, and one of its perks is you will have a place to live. No more sleeping on a sidewalk for you, Ariel.”

Of course I said yes. Saying anything other than yes would have been stupid. That day Mr. Hatz helped me do my laundry, to move to the apartment that has become my home and the threshold to a bright new chapter.

Don’t you dare pity me. I’m not who I am despite my past. I am who I am because of my past. I’ve embraced it and decided to turn my dark clouds into rainbows.

My mother taught me how to bake and I really enjoyed it. So that was always it for me. My ticket to Emerald City.

That day the dream of having a bakery was born. And speaking of my bakery, I have plenty to do at home. I need to get back to work.

I look up to the sky and start walking, leaving the stupid paper flower behind in my footsteps.

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