Chapter 1

Can you imagine never knowing your parents? Unless you've been orphaned, believe me, you can not. Even those who were adopted, if they so desire, can make the attempt to find their birth parents. The ones who don't have parents to find, have no such hope. They fall into two categories. Those who have living relatives to take them in, and those who have no family at all.

In the first case of orphans, the child can gain a sense of who their parents were, what they were like, and have a sense of family. The second case is the one I found myself in. I was placed in the orphanage at the age of two. All I knew about my past was what I was told by the nuns there.

My name was Paul Anderson, and I was told that my only living relatives had been my parents. They had been killed in an explosion, while I was in the care of a sitter. That was all that I knew about my family history.

Growing up in an orphanage sucks, especially when you have no friends. For some reason, I just didn't care to be around many people. In fact, there was only one person that I wanted to be around, at all. Denise Was a year younger than I was, and seemed to feel the same way. She had been left at the front gate around the same time I arrived. No one had any idea who had left her there. The only clue was a note pinned to her blanket. All it contained was her name, Denise O'Toole, and asked that she be cared for.

From the first day we saw each other, we were inseparable. The nuns tried for a while, but the fits both of us threw quickly ended the effort. That was probably the reason we weren't adopted. We were a 'package deal', and there was no way around it.

That presented a monumental problem, as not many prospective parents were in the market for two children to adopt. Oh, people tried to adopt one of us a couple of times, but it always failed badly.

In each case, both of us immediately stopped eating, and would not speak to anyone. The first time, we were back together in two days. The second time it happened, they tried to outlast us. They thought that sooner or later, we would have to give up.

They were wrong, and as a result, Denise and I both ended up in the hospital. That had been the last effort made. I was five years old then. I suppose you could say that we adopted each other. The nuns tried to reason with us a few times, but even that had been given up as a lost cause by the time I turned seven, and Denise six.

I'm sure the poor sisters would have liked to be rid of me, more than Denise. I didn't think that I was that much trouble, but they seemed to. My constant habit of taking things apart and putting them back together exasperated them. I couldn't understand why. I just wanted to see how things worked, and besides, when I put whatever it was I was playing with back together, it worked at least as well as it had before I started.

Some of the things worked even better. When I put the grandfather clock, music box, and record player back together they worked fine. None of those things had worked at all, before I played with them. And then there were the animals.

I really couldn't help the animal situation. I liked all kinds of animals. I guess that wouldn't have been a huge problem. The thing that made it bad was that they liked me, too. The sisters always gave me grief about the cats and dogs that were constantly hanging around. I was just glad they all didn't catch on to the birds.

I had trouble believing that most didn't have some kind of idea there was a connection. Every time a sister scolded me outside, or close to a window, bad things happened to their hair soon afterwards. Many times, right after giving me heck, a nun was washing the bird poop out of her hair.

Sister Caroline was the only one who figured it out. We didn't mind her knowing, she was the only one who always took up for Denise and I. After we assured her that the birds were doing it on their own, she got a good laugh out of it. She thought it was funnier than we did!

We were convinced that both of us would call the orphanage home until they turned us out at eighteen, so we spent years preparing for it. We studied every day, and were always at the top of the class. When we weren't doing that, we got what little exercise we could on the small playground. That amounted to running, chin-ups, push-ups, and lifting anything we could find.

That was in our 'free time'. We had to earn our keep the rest of the time. We were drafted to do all sorts of things. The orphanage had a huge garden, to save funds. I spent a long time every spring with a spade, hoe, and other garden tools in my hands. My 'chief assistant', was Denise.

That was our life, until I was thirteen, and Denise was twelve. Our lives were transformed by freak happenstance.

That day, as a 'treat', the sisters walked all the children to Freeman Park. It had all sorts of playground equipment, along with a huge field. That field was big enough to fly a kite. Some of the kids were doing just that, when it happened.

I heard it, before I saw it. Recognizing what the sound was, I quit pushing the little girl on the swing, and ran as fast as I could. Denise was right on my heels, but I yelled for her to stay out of it. She didn't listen, but I didn't really expect her to.

The dog was huge, and appeared to be a Doberman mix. It was snarling, and chasing a kid who was oblivious to the danger. He was so interested in getting his kite up in the air, that he didn't see what was coming.

I wasn't thinking much, either. I jumped between the dog and the kid, and looked at the dog. Holding my hand up, I yelled "STOP!", followed by "What do you think you're doing, you fool, sit!"

I was almost as surprised as everyone else, when he did. I couldn't let it go there, though. Figuring the danger wasn't over, I knelt in front of the dog. Speaking softly, I began to pet it. I wasn't doing that but a few seconds, when two cops and the dog catcher showed up. The cops talked to us, while the dog was led away.

The nuns, who were usually pale anyway, turned snow white as the cop explained

"We think that dog might be rabid, but we're not sure. He has attacked two people today. I'm afraid that one of them passed away. The other is in pretty bad shape. We don't know where it came from, or who the owner might be."

He looked at me, then. "That was a mighty brave thing you did, son. You probably saved that youngster from a mauling, at the very least. I don't know how you did it, but I wouldn't suggest doing it again. It's not very healthy."

Before I knew what hit me, Denise had me wrapped in a bone-crushing hug. Some of the sisters started to object, but sister Caroline stepped in.

"Leave them be" she admonished. "You know how close those two are. This had to be quite a frightening experience for them, especially Denise."

She motioned a couple of people forward that we hadn't noticed, then.

She introduced them as Daniel and Rachel O'Halloran, before springing her surprise.

"The O'Hallorans were very impressed with your display, Paul. They were even more impressed with that of your friend." She gave Denise a stern look, and almost hid her smile as she said "Where did you get that knife, young lady?"

We knew better than to lie, so Denise confessed. "I found it when we dug the flower beds this year. It was really rusty, but Paul cleaned it up for me. Do I have to give it up?"

Sister Caroline was desperately trying to hold her smile in, but failing.

"We'll see." She looked to me, then. "I know you didn't notice, Paul, but your protector was right beside you with that puny little pocket knife out. She seemed quite ready to attack that beast, if it had been necessary. I'm glad it wasn't, because I fear that little thing would have just made the animal more angry."

She was probably correct. The longest blade on the pocket knife was two inches long. It was pretty sharp, though.

Sister Caroline ushered us, along with the O'Hallorans, to a shady spot with a handy picnic table. After everyone was seated, she let her smile escape.

"Dan and Rachel came to us looking for a son, today. They were looking for a young boy, perhaps two or three years old. We arranged this outing so they could see how the young children interacted with each other, but your display seems to have altered their perception of the ideal son."

She saw the look in our eyes, I suppose, and cut off our objections before they could be voiced.

"We explained your special bond to them, and they didn't seem surprised. Especially after witnessing Denise's little lioness display. They have some questions for you, however, so I'll quit talking about them like they're not here, and leave you alone for a while."