7
Maven stood in the doorway watching the boy…she couldn’t keep calling him that. Paul was right, he needed a name. Her mind sifted through a list of possibilities. None of them seemed right. And then it hit her.
Moses.
It was perfect.
Moses had been left by his parents and so had this little boy. Moses had been found and taken in by the Pharoah’s daughter. And even though Maven wasn’t a king’s daughter, she would love this little boy the best she could while he was with her.
Moses seemed content with sitting in his circle.
Maven walked over to the circle, but sat down outside of it. “I don’t know what to call you. Can you tell me your name?”
His gaze met hers. Well, that was something.
Pointing to her chest, she said, “I’m Maven. Can you say that?”
No response.
“For now, I’m going to call you Moses. Moses was a brave man and a hero. Just like you. You are so brave. Is it all right if I call you Moses?”
He stared at her saying nothing.
She stood back up. “OK, I’m going to fix us lunch. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me, Moses.” She walked to the kitchen.
Hot dogs and macaroni and cheese. All kids loved that, didn’t they? She sighed. Who knew what he liked? After starting lunch, she went back through the hall to check on him.
He was still sitting in the same spot, but instead of staring at the wall, his gaze was focused on the desk.
“Hey, Moses.”
He jerked at the sound of her voice, almost cowering.
Her heart broke. She knew from experience that special needs children often weren’t as easy to care for due to their circumstances. Perhaps that was why he had been abandoned in the park. She spoke again, softer and sweeter this time. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
His gaze turned towards her. He stood up and walked over. Obviously, he understood her words.
She moved out of the doorway and opened the bathroom door.
He followed.
When she pointed at the toilet, he walked in.
Not wanting to shut the door lest he lock himself in, she walked to the kitchen to give him privacy. Water was boiling in both pans, so she put in four hotdogs and dumped in the box of macaroni. As she was stirring the macaroni, she heard the toilet flush and the water run in the sink. Somebody had taught him basic hygiene. A few moments later, he peeked around the corner of the hallway.
“Come on in. I’m just cooking our lunch.” She pointed at the stool by the kitchen island. “You can sit there if you want and watch while I cook.”
He walked over to the stool but made no move to get up.
“Need some help?”
A very small shake of his head. He’d actually responded! That was definite progress. Moses climbed up on the stool by himself and settled in to watch her with his elbows propping up his little head.
Maven carried on a monologue of what she was doing and why as she cooked.
Moses said nothing, but his gaze followed her as she moved around the kitchen.
~*~
Moses had eaten both hotdogs and two helpings of macaroni and cheese. Eventually, he made his way to his room.
Maven cleaned up and mixed up a cake. While it was baking, she went to check on the boy.
He was back in his circle but had curled up in a ball and was asleep.
She returned to the kitchen to get her cell phone. After fielding questions from an anxious Lizzie, Maven got to the point of her call. “I have an idea about how to find Moses’s identity.”
“Moses?”
“Well, I couldn’t keep thinking of him as ‘the boy,’ so that seemed like a fitting name.”
“Well, I get the similarities, but I’m pretty sure he won’t grow up to free his people. Still, it’s a pretty good biblical reference.”
“You never know what God has planned. Anyway, I think you should take his picture and forward it to all the elementary schools in Ohio. He might be old enough to be in school. Someone might recognize him. And while you’re at it, you might want to contact the Cleveland and Columbus TV stations to do a story on him. Someone must know him. Nobody lives in complete isolation.”
“Mmm. Both great ideas. I can’t believe we didn’t think of it. I’ll get busy on tha—”
Screams erupted from the bedroom.
“Gotta go.”
Maven ran to the bedroom.
He was still inside the circle in a fetal position.
“Sweetie. Moses.”
More screaming.
She sat down outside the circle. Not knowing what else to do, she started singing.
He’d liked that earlier, but not this time.
She jumped up and started dancing and singing like a crazy woman.
After ten minutes, the screaming turned to soft sobs.
She wasn’t sure how long she could continue, but she figured it was as good a workout as running in the park with Lizzie. Her blood was pumping and sweat oozed from her pores.
Moses giggled.
“Do you think this is funny?” She held out a hand, not expecting him to respond. “Come on, dance with me.”
He stood up and stepped out of the circle.
Would he take her hand? She held her breath and prayed. But it didn’t happen.
However, he did jump up and down.
Following his lead, Maven did the same.
Soon the two of them were jumping around the room while she sang.
Eventually, she slid down to the floor. “Enough, enough! I’m exhausted.” She leaned against the child’s plastic desk she’d bought the night before. It was filled with art supplies. She pointed at the chair. “You can sit here.” She got up on her knees and opened the desk lid. “I thought you might like these.” Pulling out some paper and crayons, she made a crude doodle, and then handed it to Moses. “OK, you have fun and I’m going to frost the cake.”