I Was Bought Twice

I Was Bought Twice

It all started when my mother invited me to diner. I didn’t know what to expect but contempt. I was right. That night, she wanted me gone for good. First, my birth parents and now the adoptive one. She told me politely to accept this twenty thousand cheque and leave somewhere else, travel, whatever as long as I would feel something. She was inventing something just to hide the real reason.

At first, couch surfing wasn’t easy. I didn’t want to rent hotel because I knew I would have felt alone. I was alone, my mother abandoned me ironically with an amount of money but that just proved how much she wanted me gone. Expensive vacation for her but I won’t get in her way. Fine! I will do my best to be gone properly. Now that a year passed, I am sleeping in a hotel alone and as I think about everything, I feel happy. First, I went to France. As a French Canadian, I wanted to be able to communicate properly. The family that took me temporarily in was sweet. Angry but sweet. I remember this Pamela who was never happy with anything. We got along very well. They asked me like every other family I went to why I was leaving at twenty years old everything behind. I was delighted to tell them how my mother wanted me gone. Usually, the parents would find funny the cheque part. Even a mother in Spain who learned French a long time ago told me: ‘’ If I didn’t want my child, I would just cut myself from her or him. Not give money.’’ I remember answering instantly: ‘’ Exactly! She involves money to make sure I don’t come back!’’ She laughed but I wasn’t. For me, I was bought twice. When I was adopted and now to make me leave. In France, they made me visit the school where their teen went. Fifteen and always angry. As I said, a friend. We could complain about anything together. Everything and everyone was an enemy and against us. Then came Germany. A family of only boys. A single father raising his two kids. I felt that because these people didn’t know me, they were more opened to talk. Like they would never see me again anyway. He explained how this woman left everything behind for drugs. I asked him what he would do if she came back. I was expecting something aggressive. You don’t leave children behind. He just calmly said: ‘’ People make mistakes. It doesn’t mean they should live with nothing for the rest of their life.’’ He then handed me this black notebook and told me to write things in it. Said I was looking like a young woman seeking something. I took it and didn’t really understood what he meant. I was this poor woman who her mother abandoned. When I left, I felt weird. I felt that he was sad seeing me leaving. In the airport, waiting for my plane to go to Italy, I wrote in the notebook: ‘’ I hope he and his children live happy.’’ I closed it and watched the boarding schedule. My heart started beating faster when I saw Romania written. A plane was leaving for there in two hours. I rapidly turned my head for some distractions. It would be stupid. I got on the plane for Italy. I remember finding men cute in this country. I didn’t go to the Vatican because I wanted to enjoy little streets. I didn’t miss my mother at all. We concluded that I would write her something everyday to make sure I was alive. Alive for what? To give me another check in three years but bigger because I came back? I remembered liking the idea of being sure of coming back to her. I even wrote it in the black notebook: ‘’ After all this, I will come back see my mother and tell her everything.’’ A really nice family greeted me with a lot of food. More than I could imagine. At the first night, I noticed a young woman breastfeeding her baby in the street, barely clothed. I felt remorse and didn’t like it. I woke up the mother and told her about this woman. She ran outside and encouraged the young lady come inside. As if she was the priest, the woman talked about everything. How the dad died of an overdose and was stuck with it. The couple of parents gave her and the baby some food. She even showed her some resources to go to if she felt desperate or felt like giving away the baby. I went upstairs to get my stuffs because I was shocked. What was this trip all about babies and children left behind? I then went to a rich Italian family. More boring than I thought. I surprisingly felt more alive than them. After 3 days, I left but didn’t know where to go. I decided to sleep in the street with my bag, wanting a glimps at what it’s like to live this way. I wrote it in my notebook and tried to sleep. I was lucky because it didn’t rain but I was cold. I forced myself to get through the night. I think I slept three hours that night. I felt lucky when I felt the heat of the sun on me in the morning, thinking that the cold part was over. I went in plenty of museum, plenty of restaurants, never missed anything, even discovering to connect with myself. I felt ready for the big day and wrote in my notebook: ‘’ Romania.’’

In the airport, I almost had a heart attack. It wasn’t. It is apparently called an anxiety attack but I like to think I survived a heart attack. In the plane, I was seated next to a Romanian. A tall woman going back home after some traveling. She had the reflex to speak to me in Romanian, then apologised, telling me I looked native. I explained her my backstory and she was happy for me. She taught me few basic words to help me and then asked me what I wanted to do there. I simply said visiting. She felt something was up but I didn’t tell her more. I felt a wall talking about maybe seeing my birthparents. I would do whatever I want without having to tell anyone.

Once in Timisoara, I booked a hotel. I left my bag in the room and left to visit some buildings. Known for the beginning of the revolution against Ceaucescu, I was curious. I put out a paper of my pocket with an address and then went to the place. The place was now a restaurant. My orphanage now being a pizzeria wouldn’t stop my hunger. Felt like home. Why not? Once back in my room at night. I am now here, unable to sleep in the bed. I open my notebook and write in it: ‘’ I think I know why my mom wanted me to travel. ‘’ I can’t yet understand for sure but I think my mother wanted to give me a chance to heal or whatever. I take my phone and send my mother a shy ‘’thank you’’ out of nowhere and fall asleep, peaceful.

In the morning, I eat toasts at the hotel. The staff highly recommend me to eat sermales for diner, a popular meal in Romania. I go for a walk and decide to pass by my orphanage aka pizzeria. As I am walking, I see a woman coming my way and I begin to feel weird. As she gets closer, I notice resemblances. The height, the green eyes, her weird nose. She walks by me and I continue like it’s nothing. I turn around and see her stopping for a moment too. Not really subtle but I hide in a corner. I decide to follow her carefully. I don’t even know if I am careful, I am too stressed. I see her turning a corner and joining her family in front of the block. The smallest one looks just like me at that age. She looks around and they go in the building. I don’t move for what seems eternity and then turn around. A mother, a father and two daughters. He has my teeth! I can tell. Is this genetic?

I go to a currency bank and come back to the block. I go in and read the names on the door. As I expected, I read the same name as on my papers. I don’t know if I should knock or not. Maybe I slip it under the door? Maybe I knock and stay there? No, I knock and run? I run and knock? No, I must knock first. I take a big breath and try to think about nothing. I’ll take whatever comes to mind next. I hear their two children laughing and screaming. What if… Don’t be stupid. What if… Everything is in place and it is as simple as it is? No. They had me and the next day not. Well, yes. What if they made me live a life so they could too? I feel good about it. I put the envelope with the notebook behind with my name and everything on the doorstep and leave. At the hotel, I feel lighter than ever and call my mother. I explain how I need more money to come back. She gladly accepts and I take the plane on the same night. For the first time, I feel excited to see my mother. I write to Pamela on social media to go sleep outside a night or maybe two in her case and close my phone for the ride. I think I just healed my insomnia I couldn't understand.

Cristina Garant