A Family Secret (Parts Six, Seven, and Eight) (standard:Editorials, 4082 words) [2/3] show all parts
Author: Kenneth Nash	Added: Oct 18 2006	Views/Reads: 2411/1826	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A story of how a family secret infuenced a young woman's decisions

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Adrienne knew she had to be honest with Michael, but could she 
jeopardize losing his love if he failed to understand her giving up her 
baby? The only other person that knew was her best friend, Amanda. But 
she knew she could not enter into something as sacred as a marriage, 
with a person that was totally honest with her, and not share the 
family secret that she had kept hidden for so many years. 

She tried to tell him several times, but the words wouldn't come.
Michael knew there was something she wanted to say but, he didn't know 
how to help her say it. “If only she knew that no matter what it is, it 
will be alright! Our love is stronger than anything that has happened 
in the past. How can I tell her that we can't let the past affect our 
future?” 

One night Adrienne mustered the courage to tell Michael the whole story.
She told him about the dreams and not going to med school because of 
having to be around children. He held her in his arms as she cried. 
Michael said something else that let her know that she had fallen in 
love with a caring, unselfish person. “Honey, I don't know much about 
adoption procedures, but I know an attorney that can check into it for 
you, maybe, you will be able to see your daughter again.” 

Alex Boatwright made an appointment with Michael and Adrienne. As they
sat in his office, he said, “I cannot offer you a lot of hope, but we 
can try something.  I know there used to be an adoption agency in 
Lynchburg that worked closely with the hospital there. Although the 
records have been sealed, they are still there. They will have the 
names of the adoptive parents, and probably a birth certificate of the 
baby. We can send a notarized letter stating that if the adopted child 
ever inquires about her birth mother, you are willing to make contact 
with her...This is the best we can do.” 

Adrienne and Michael left the lawyers office with mixed emotions. For
the first time since that morning that she woke up after the delivery 
of her child, Adrienne sensed a glimmer of hope. She told herself that 
it was a slim chance, but at least she had opened the door. 

(Part Seven) 

She was led, with a group of other prisoners, into the courtroom. The
judge called her name from the bench, “Janelle LeAnn Armstrong, you 
have been charged with possession of a controlled substance. How do you 
plead?” She plead guilty as charged, and was sentenced to six months in 
a county drug rehabilitation center. It was her first offense as an 
adult. 

It had been six years since she ran away from home. She sat in the
holding cell waiting for the bus that would take her to the 
rehabilitation center. 

Janelle thought about so many things during the next three hours. She
remembered the early morning hours a couple weeks after her parents had 
brought her home from the Garland Jail. She made the decision to run 
away then. 

She purchased a bus ticket to San Antonio, about 295 miles from Garland.
Janelle wanted to get as far from her parents as fast she could. She 
knew her dad and mom would think she just went to Dallas, which was 
about 20 miles. They would come searching for her.  She had about 
$300.00 left after the bus ticket. 

It was a long ride from Garland to San Antonio. There were no other kids
her age on the first leg of the trip. Janelle sat in the back of the 
bus, watched the other passengers, and tried to sleep. “I know I will 
have to call mom and dad and let them know I am okay... I will call 
from a pay phone... they will probably have the cops looking for me!” 

The teenager, now sixteen, began to have some doubts about her decision
as she observed the other passengers. There was the older man and women 
in the front of the bus. They were reading and occasionally would talk 
in hushed whispers to each other. She wondered where they were going. 
She noticed the middle aged man in the dirty clothes across the aisle. 
He needed a shave... and a bath! She could smell the stench of body 
odor waft across the aisle. He would occasionally bend down between the 
seats and drink from a bottle that was covered in a filthy brown paper 
bag. Several times she caught him staring at her with small watery blue 
eyes.  Janelle moved to the middle of the bus, turned her face toward 
the window, and watched the landscape pass swiftly by. She had no 
definitive plans at this point. “At least I am on my own now... the 
money I took out of my savings account will be enough to get a room in 
San Antonio... I can make my own decisions without having to listen to 
mom and dad gripe all the time!” thought the girl. 

The bus arrived in San Antonio at 6:30 pm. She retrieved the small
suitcase from the luggage section, and wondered what to do next. She 
had to find a room. As she was sitting there trying to decide, a girl 
about her age, although she looked older, said, “ Hey, girlfriend, 
waiting to meet someone?” “Uh- no,” Janelle answered. “Then whatcha 
doing here?” Janelle was reluctant to tell the girl anything about 
herself. She said, “I am visiting here from Dallas.” “I need to find a 
room for the night.” The girl eyed her, for what seemed like a long 
time. And replied, “My name is Sabrina, are you a runaway?” Janelle 
didn't respond to the question, but, asked her if she lived in San 
Antonio. “Well, I guess you could say that. I don't have a regular 
address, mostly; I just try to find a room for a night or two. That is 
when I have the money, or can get someone to pay for it.” That is why I 
come to the bus station once in awhile. Easy to get someone that will 
pay for a room, if you will do him a “favor”. “Have to be careful and 
not  try that too often here, I usually go to the ticket window, ask 
about bus schedules, then get a magazine and it looks like I am waiting 
for a bus. The cops check here all the time.” 

Janelle, while not as street-wise as the girl that went by ‘Sabrina',
knew what she was making reference to. She wondered how a young girl 
could allow herself to do something like that. Janelle would soon know 
the answer to her question. 

Michael and Michelle Armstrong were frantic! They called the Garland
police, and were told they should check with Janelle's friends, and 
then call back. Usually a child will just show up back home. They 
explained they had already done that, and no one knew anything of her 
whereabouts. “Michael, what was the officer's name that we spoke with 
when we picked her up from the police station?” Michelle asked, 
anxiously. “Was it Harris...no, wait Howard, that's it, Officer Howard. 
Ask to speak with him!” Officer Howard politely told them the same 
thing the other policeman said. But he said he would check around at 
the bus stations, and truck stops. Could they provide him a recent 
photo of Janelle? “Yes, and thank you for any help you can give us!' 
Said Michelle.  “Oh my God, Michael... her bank account... I never 
should have signed the waiver allowing her to withdraw cash!” The bank 
said the account had been closed out two days ago. 

So the Armstrongs sat by the phone and waited. 

“Hey, I know a place near here that will give us a room for the night.
It is pretty cheap, and if you pay a little extra the man won't ask for 
ID and all that. You got money?” asked Sabrina.  Janelle said she had 
enough for the room and a taxi. When they got in the cab, Sabrina said 
that she knew of a place they could get some beer and wine, too. “This 
girl knows a lot; she must have been here awhile!” thought Janelle. She 
was beginning to enjoy her new adventure. 

The room wasn't anything to brag about, no TV, no phone, but the full
sized bed was clean at least.  Janelle and Sabrina sat on the bed, 
drank the beer, and started on the wine. The liquor was making her 
talkative. If only her friends in Garland could see her now! She told 
her new-found friend about the arrest in Garland, how her parents had 
“ragged” on her about it. She told about being adopted. How her birth 
mother didn't want her. She felt like a “throw-away” kid. Sabrina said 
she could relate. She never met her father, and her mother was usually 
gone all night. So she, too, ran away from home. Although, she added, 
it wasn't much of a home anyway. 

The next morning Janelle awoke with a headache, and vague memories of
the night before. The girls decided to pay for another night, and that 
afternoon Sabrina said, “Girlfriend, if you think last night was fun 
... if you still got any money... tonight will be even better!”  
Janelle had never experienced drugs, except for an occasional marijuana 
joint. Sabrina told her she knew where they could get some cocaine.  It 
was about three blocks away, and Janelle would have to give her the 
money because she knew the guy that sold it. By now Janelle felt 
Sabrina could be trusted, they walked the three blocks and made the 
“score”.  Once in the room Sabrina showed her how to put it on the 
glass pipe and inhale it. That first “hit” as Sabrina called it was 
like something she had never felt before! The light headiness, the 
euphoric feeling of well being, that followed was the start of a path 
that led nowhere but downward to degradation and destruction. 

Michelle and her husband had all but given up hope on hearing from their
daughter again.  The police had not found any leads that might help 
locate the missing girl. There was no evidence of foul play, and with 
over 450,000 children listed as “runaways” each year, it is impossible 
for the police departments to spend time on each one. 

It had been almost four months since Janelle had left home. 

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon when the phone rang. “Hello” answered
Michelle. There were several minutes of silence on the other end... 
then the voice said. “Mom, it is me...” “Oh, God, Janelle where 
are....” Before she could finish the sentence her daughter 
interrupted... “Mom, don't try to find me... I can't come back home... 
I am sorry...” the line went dead. Her daughter had hung up and 
Michelle had a premonition that it would be the last time she would 
hear her daughter's voice.  She simply replaced the phone and wept with 
an agony she had never experienced before. 

It didn't take long for her to go through the money she withdrew from
the account in Garland. She spent many nights, thereafter, sleeping in 
the alleyways, and on park benches in San Antonio. Janelle became 
accustomed to watching for the patrol cars as they cruised the streets. 
She learned how to panhandle and shoplift for enough to eat once a day. 
She hadn't seen Sabrina for nearly a year. Word was she got busted and 
was in jail. Janelle would sometimes go to the bus station... she could 
get a room once in awhile and get off the street for a night or two... 
but there was always the “favor” that came with it. 

It had been a year since the wedding. Michael and Adrienne Barnett moved
into the ranch house just west of Richmond. They loved living away from 
the hustle and bustle of the city yet were close enough to commute 
daily to their work. Adrienne had been so happy and busy with the 
wedding, honeymoon, and her return to work that she didn't think of her 
daughter quite as often. Yet, the dream was still there. Sometimes she 
didn't say anything to her husband when it occurred but, he could tell. 
The next day Adrienne would be more withdrawn and somewhat lost in her 
own thoughts. 

When she would think of her daughter and her heart would ache. “What
does she look like now... what avenues has her life taken...is she 
happy...will I have grandchildren I may never see... so many 
questions... and no answers,” pondered Adrienne.  On several occasions 
when she and Michael would discuss her daughter (she never mentioned 
what she might have named the baby) she would say, “Honey, I wish we 
could share our happiness with her!” 

Late one night she lay awake wondering if she should tell him. Finally,
she shook her husband gently and said, “Michael, there is something I 
need to tell you.” “Hmmm?” was all he said and went back to sleep! She 
smiled... “Must have been a long day in surgery.” she mused. Again she 
tried; this time she shook his shoulder a little harder. “Honey?”  
“Wha...what is it? Something wrong?” Good, he is almost awake now. She 
smiled again and said, “I think I am pregnant”. Now he was wide awake.  
The good doctor fairly flew to his feet. “Are you sure?” As she nodded 
he came back to bed and embraced her. She thought he was going to 
squeeze the breath out of her. She had not seen her husband this 
excited since she answered “yes” to his proposal. I will make you an 
appointment with Richard Carpenter; he is the best OB-GYN man in 
Richmond. And his wife, Maria, shares the practice with him and is as 
good a pediatrician as there is around. 

Doctor Carpenter examined her and confirmed Adrienne's suspicions. 

It was a wet, gloomy, overcast day when Phillip Michael Barnett was
born. Dr. Maria Carpenter checked him out and gave a thumbs up in all 
categories. Michael was so happy. “Sometimes a proud poppa can say the 
dumbest things,” Adrienne thought smiling to herself. Michael sounded 
almost serious when he ask, “Honey, do you think the weather will 
affect his disposition in life?” “Now this was coming from an 
intelligent, educated man!” 

Little Phillip was a bright child. He looked so much like his daddy!
Michael would look at his long delicate fingers, and comment on how he 
will one day make a fine surgeon. Of course, this was just said in 
passing. He would let his son find his own niche in life. 

Almost three years later, Amanda Yvette arrived. Such a beautiful child.
She had dark curly hair like Adrienne, but the gray-blue eyes she 
inherited from her daddy. Amanda was Adrienne's dream come true. As she 
gazed upon her baby daughter she couldn't help wondering if her first 
daughter looked like this. She had never seen her. 

(Part Eight) 

Janelle boarded the bus with several other prisoners destined for the
Rehab Center. She was one of four young women that were assigned to the 
center... “Sentenced” was more like it thought Janelle. She didn't know 
what to expect. “Maybe someone out there has some coke...”she thought 
to herself. She was surprised as the bus pulled into the serene looking 
facility. It was in a wooded area with tall trees, a pond, and cottages 
that housed six to eight people with individual bunks and lockers. The 
grounds had picnic benches, and there were rooms set up for the 
meetings everyone was required to attend each day. This was in addition 
to the classrooms, counselor's offices, administrative office, dining 
hall, canteen, outdoor movie screen, and infirmary, or medical 
building. 

The first day was just to rest up. They “residents”, as they were
referred to, were assigned cottages and bunks. 

The next morning the new residents were up, had their beds made and were
in the dining room for breakfast by 7:30. Orientation was at 9:00 and 
would last until noon. It was “free” time until 4:30; meet with the 
counselors on a “one on one”. Group meetings started at 7:00pm and last 
‘till 9:00.  Lights out at 11:00. That would be the routine for the 
next six months, except Orientation would be replaced by classes about 
the effects the drugs had on the users' body and mind. “I didn't see 
anyone sneaking any dope!” thought Janelle ruefully. 

The young girl wasn't looking forward to the strictly structured
environment of rehab. But, during orientation, it was stressed to them 
that the volunteer commitment was for three months, court appointed was 
for six months, and any violations meant automatic discharge and back 
before the judge. 

Janelle had learned to survive on the street for over five years.
“Surely I can put  up with this crap for six months!” 

Most of the time she just kept to herself. She seldom joined in the
discussion groups, just listened quietly as her counselor tried to coax 
her out of the shell that she had mentally and emotionally withdrawn 
into. 

It wasn't until the end of three months that she began to open up to her
counselor and peers. Even then she was reserved during the free times. 
She enjoyed going down by the pond, sitting on the bench, and feeding 
the ducks. 

She had a lot of time to think, and write in her journal. All residents
were required to keep one, even if they had a hard time spelling and 
writing. 

A part of the program was to try to make amends to those that you have
injured. Janelle gave this a lot of thought. “It has been five years 
since I tried to contact my adoptive parents. I don't know what to say 
or even if the will talk to me but maybe I need to try.” 

She discussed her thoughts with her counselor, whom she had come to like
and trust. The counselor thought it might be a good idea but warned her 
that it might not go like she wanted, and trying to make amends to 
people we had injured was not always well received. 

She used the pay phone the next day and called the number that she still
remembered. The message stated that number was no longer in service. 
She tried three times and received the same message. After the third 
time she gave up and felt somewhat relieved that no one had answered. 
She didn't know what to say anyway. None of her family knew what she 
had been doing for the past five years. Maybe it was best just to keep 
it her secret. 

It was a warm Sunday afternoon. Janelle was sitting by the pond. A young
man she had seen visiting one of the male residents was sitting with 
his friend on the bench next to her. “I wonder why that pretty girl is 
always sitting alone.”  Janelle would soon learn that his name was 
Jonathan. She felt him looking at her and glanced up. The man looked to 
be a couple years older than Janelle. She smiled at him. He smiled back 
as he ambled over to her. “I have noticed you sitting here each time I 
visit my friend, Ben. My name is Jonathan Scott Mason, the third.” 
“Well, nice to meet you Jonathan Scott Mason, the third. I am Janelle 
LeAnn Armstrong, the fourth!” countered Janelle. He smiled and said, 
“Really?”  “No, not really. I just couldn't think of anything else to 
say. I don't think I have ever met anyone with the name ‘the third'!” 
Jonathan told her he thought his daddy and granddaddy was just playing 
a joke on him. “He is kinda funny but, he has a killer smile,.” 
considered Janelle. She said goodbye and walked back toward her 
cottage. He hoped he would see her again. He didn't know when she would 
be leaving the program. 

(to be continued...) 


Tweet