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    Escape to Niñothia
    Escape to Niñothia
    Escape to Niñothia
    Ebook123 pages1 hour

    Escape to Niñothia

    By M.T. Kores and Kalie Fick

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Shia Bachman longs for the day when he’s old enough to leave his “home”. Smiles Orphanage is run by Olga, the meanest woman you’ll ever come across. Between cooking meals, cleaning, fixing the old house, and working for Mr. Heinmeyer, Shia barely has time for anything else in his life. That is, until one fall day….

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPPH & Belle Publishing Company
    Release dateNov 22, 2016
    ISBN9780692787656
    Escape to Niñothia

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      Book preview

      Escape to Niñothia - M.T. Kores

      ONE

      THE BOOK

      He sat on the corner of Bilberry Street, waiting. Every morning, he would sit and wait for the bad things in his life to go away. He would wait for the dreams he had dreamt the night before, on his lumpy bed at the orphanage, to start happening. He would wait for the sound of the harmonica to flow into his ears. He would wait for the smell of oil paints to sneak into his nose. There, on the rough gray pavement of his corner, where many children had fallen riding bike, not quite turning sharp enough, he would sit and wait.

      His waiting would be interrupted by the loud ringing sound of the school bell and his hopes for the extraordinary would be put on hold until tomorrow morning at seven o’clock, when he would be able to escape early from the orphanage for his precious half an hour of freedom; the only time he had in his life to breathe. The other hours of the day were filled with school and working at the orphanage. If the orphanage director, Olga, was nice enough to give them a half hour break before their bedtime, he would be able to get some homework done. Olga, however, was rarely nice.

      He pushed his hands against the rough pavement to help himself stand up and started walking towards school. Clack, clack, clack. The wheels of the case that held his cello sounded behind him. He remembered when his dad would walk with him every day, playing his harmonica. Sometimes, when he was in a bad mood, he would get annoyed and plead for his dad to stop, but this only made him play louder. He would play on and on until Shia smiled. Shia never used to walk alone. He missed his dad.

      Mr. Bachlan was an artist and musician. He enjoyed living in the moment. He painted and played everything he saw and heard. He taught Shia how to experience the beauty of this world. Shia was so grateful for this gift his dad had given him, because, without it, he would have a hard time remaining optimistic and appreciative now.

      Hey Shia, wait up! yelled a voice approaching from behind him. When he turned around, Whitney had already caught up with him and her face was about an inch from his.

      Whatcha movin’ so slow for? she asked, giggling. She sprinted ahead with her curly light-blond hair bouncing and swaying from side to side. She was younger than all of the boys but always hung out with them. She played every sport the boys played, dressed in the same clothes the boys wore, and even copied their habits, such as only taking a shower once a week. She did just discover the ritual of brushing her hair before school and the boys gave her a hard time about it, telling her that soon she would be too girly to play basketball with them.

      Shia! Shia!

      He turned around to find the twins, Caston and Easton, walking up. He waited for them to catch up.

      How bad are your hands hurting from last night? I can’t believe she made us scrub the entire dining hall, Caston exclaimed as he examined his hands, turning them over to reveal the blisters that had appeared on his palms from the previous night.

      I’m not surprised. Olga just keeps getting more and more heartless. Before you know it, we’ll probably be up on the roof, fixing that leak she keeps complaining about, he uttered.

      Caston moaned, I wish we had lives like the other kids in our school.

      I wanna have a Christmas where we get a present or two, Easton added.

      Why are you thinking of Christmas already? It’s only August! asked Caston.

      You know that guy we saw on the street downtown carrying those skis with him while we were picking up groceries for Olga? Well, I want a set of those to ride down hills and mountains in the winter, just like him! replied Easton as his large, turquoise eyes grew with excitement.

      Large heavy breaths came from behind and when Shia glanced behind him, he saw Randall, waiting his turn to speak.

      Well, keep dreamin’ mister; because there ain’t no way you’re gonna get them. We live in an orphanage! We have no parents to give us stuff like that. Just evil Olga, who thinks giving us an hour off of cleanin’ and cookin’ on Christmas is the nicest gift anyone has ever given and gotten, Randall scoffed.

      Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, remarked Nydia. Shia hadn’t even realized she was walking with them, but that happened often. Nydia was always busy taking care of the younger kids, so a lot of the time, she didn’t have time to join in with conversations the older kids were having. He felt bad for her, but she always reassured them that she didn’t mind. She liked taking care of people. When Shia thought about it, she seemed more like a mother to him than Olga did and was pretty sure every other kid at the orphanage felt the same. He was very grateful for her.

      Why don’t you just be quiet? I had no choice. Iggy was hoggin’ the whole bed last night.

      I second that, agreed Caston, I was halfway off the bed.

      That’s nothin’. I woke up on the floor! expressed Randall, trying to fix his brunette hair that kept swaying in front of his eyes.

      Yeah, well if you guys were a little fatter, maybe you could get your own beds and Olga wouldn’t put you three to a bed! laughed Nydia.

      I already tried that. It’s impossible with the little food we get, sighed Easton.

      Hah, it’s not impossible; you’re just a scrawny little boy who’s never gonna get big. I bet I could gain ten pounds this week if I really wanted to, smirked Randall.

      Fine! It’s a deal, but if you lose, you have to buy new skis for me with the money your parents left you! bartered Easton.

      Shia knew that was going to hurt Randall. Randall had never found out what exactly happened to his parents, just like the rest of them. The difference between Randall and the other children was that Randall believed his parents purposely wanted to disappear, whereas they thought there had been some sort of tragedy or accident that their parents were involved in.

      Okay you guys, this has gone on long enough! Nobody is going to gorge themselves this week, he said, trying to settle the matter.

      Why do you get to decide when we stop arguin’, Shia? asked Randall.

      Yeah, you’re the one who started this whole thing anyway, Easton spoke, now siding with Randall.

      Shia was confused. The subde discussion they were having, in the beginning, was starting to turn into a huge argument. He glimpsed at Randall who narrowed his eyes at him, his left fist clenched. Shia took a step back and put his hands out, showing he hadn’t meant any harm. Randall stepped toward him. Just then, little Hailey came out from behind Nydia, her deep blue eyes peeping out at the older boys. Her straight, light brown hair was combed neatly down her back. An expression of discomfort was displayed across her face from the arguing.

      You know what I wish we all had? asked Hailey.

      He lowered his hands and relaxed as they all shifted their attention toward her, waiting for a response.

      A mom that would sing in the kitchen while cooking our food for us and tuck us in at night when we were scared. And a dad, that would work during the day, but then come home at supper time and give our mom a big kiss for all the hard work she’d done during the day.... and he would play with us after supper until it was time for bed...and when it was time for us to fall asleep, he would protect us through the night.

      I wanna dad that’ll teach me how to hunt, wished Randall, completely forgetting what he was just about to do to Shia.

      I wish what Hailey wishes, Shia agreed, smiling down at Hailey.

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