Lisa had just gotten off the phone that evening when Shelli called from the shower, “What did your mother say?”

“She’s all for the project, but doesn’t want me to leave,” replied Lisa. “Typical. At least she didn’t cry like your mother did.” She was silent for a moment. “Do you think it’s because I’m adopted?”

“What?” Shelli came out of the bathroom in her robe, with a towel over her hair. “You mean the crying? Don’t be silly. That’s just my mother. She cries about everything. You shouldn’t be so hung up about being adopted. One of my cousins is, and nobody treats him any differently.” Shelli paused thoughtfully. “Can’t you find your birthparents? You’re old enough.”

“Yes, I could,” agreed Lisa, “if they wanted to be found. The last I heard, though, they didn’t.”

“Lisa, no!” Shelli was shocked. “Why not?”

Lisa shook her head. “It’s their right. I’m sure they have their reasons. I registered my willingness when I was eighteen. The agency said they hadn’t heard from either of them since I was two. They don’t even know their current addresses.”

“Have you checked since?”

“No.” Lisa sighed. “Two rejections are enough. If they want to find me, they can. Otherwise, I’m just going to forget about it. After all, Mom and Dad were the ones who raised me. They’re the ones who really count.”

“Right!” agreed Shelli cheerfully. But inside she felt a great deal of sympathy for her friend, and gratitude that she wasn’t in Lisa’s place.

Lisa was silent for awhile, just thinking. It was true, she loved her adoptive parents. But sometimes a person just wants to know where she comes from, and Lisa certainly did want to know. She couldn’t help wondering what they were doing, whether she had brothers and sisters, whether they regretted the adoption, and other things. “Do you remember — Dr. Rowell was in the lab when I told you and I think he was embarrassed.”

“Everything embarrasses him!”

“True, everything personal. He doesn’t like questions about his personal life, either. When he told us he went to State U. as a freshman – remember? – I asked him if he thought he might have known my father. That’s where my birthfather went, you know. But he just mumbled something and left. I guess I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It is funny, though,” laughed Shelli. “What do you think about this Kioska thing, anyway?”

“I think it’s strange, but there must be some explanation. He’s not the impulsive type, like me. Maybe he was thinking about this but just didn’t tell us.”

“Or maybe we don’t know him well enough, and he does have an impulsive side.” Shelli yawned. “We’d better get our sleep. Good night, Lisa.”

2 thoughts on “Kioska”

  1. Very intriguing story. I am definitely on the outside looking in when it comes to this level of science writing. So thankful you have been blessed with such a high level of knowledge about so many things. Keep up the good work.


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