Life Will Have Its Way Read Free

somewhat relieved that we might finally be getting somewhere. “But, then… where did your grandma go?” I asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    “What do you mean you don’t know? Did she just leave you all alone?”
    She nodded her head, “Yeah… but she always does that.”
    “She always does what?”
    “She always leaves me by myself.”
    “Why? Why would she leave you by yourself?”
    “I guess she must have other stuff to do.”
    “Well, I can’t believe she would really just leave you all by yourself.”
    “But she does all the time,” she replied, confused by my concern.
    “That doesn’t make it right!”
    “But she comes back! She always comes back!” she added defensively.
    I couldn’t understand what kind of person would think it was all right to leave a small, helpless child alone in an unfamiliar garden. “So why do you think she didn’t come back this time?”
    “I don’t know. She usually comes back when I call her.”
    I perked up, why hadn’t I thought of trying to call her grandmother… of trying to call her mother, her father, someone, anyone? “Do you have her number?” I asked with a sudden sense of optimism. 
    Her forehead scrunched together and her eye lids tightened, she looked at me as though she thought I might be trying to trick her.
    “Her telephone number?” I repeated.
    “What’s a tel… uh… fone num… ber?” she asked, her forehead bunching.
    She seemed serious, how could she possibly not know what a telephone number was? I pulled the phonebook from the cupboard and asked if she could just tell me her grandmother’s full name so I could look it up for myself.
    Her head moved slowly side to side.
    “Her last name? I just need your grandmother’s last name, what is it?”
    “Uh,” she scratched the back of her head, “she doesn’t have one.”
    “She must have a last name.”
    “No… she doesn’t have one,” she trailed off, “her name is Petra. Just Petra.”
    Well then, easy enough, all I had to do was find a woman named Petra, just Petra, who thought it was okay to leave a tiny five year old unattended and far away from home. I wasn’t exactly sure I wanted to find this Petra woman, and I was sure she wouldn’t want to hear the strong words I had for her when I did.
    I walked toward the window, hoping to look outside and see a woman, an older woman, bundled up in a dated woolen jacket with her hair tied in a colorful scarf standing patiently in the garden waiting for her granddaughter. There was no one there. The garden was empty, the sidewalk deserted.
    The girl joined me at the window.
    “Do you think your grandma might be back for you tonight?” I asked.
    She shook her head and started fiddling with her hair, twisting it round and round her fingers, then letting it loose in long golden spirals. I could do nothing but sigh. The cute little girl that sat in my living room wasn’t making it very easy for me to help her. I turned back toward the window, from a block or so down the sidewalk on the other side of the street someone exited the small café, the only shop in my view with its lights still on. It looked like it could have been a woman. “Look, look,” I pointed toward the moving silhouette. “Do you think that might be her?”
    She barely bothered to look out the window.
    “Right there,” I tapped on the glass, “the woman walking this way.”
    Without making any effort to look again she shook her head back and forth, as far as it would go to each side. I could tell she was getting bored, but I was determined to keep her focused on the window, on the street outside, hoping somehow, if we tried hard enough, we might actually will her grandmother back to the garden.
    The street seemed even more quiet than usual. I couldn’t help but remember the old adage about watching water boil. I felt as though the pot I was trying to watch was a pan filled with ice water that was apparently never going to get hot, let alone boil. I perked up when