The Foreign Service Journal, September 2008

large and wary. “I bet you could go for a nice bath?” Linda said hopefully to Gina, reflecting her own desperate need for a good, soothing soak. When Gina did not respond, Linda turned to the hall- way. “Back here is your room,” Linda chirped, hating the false note of cheer in her voice, as Gina shuffled behind her. The two stood in the doorway of the room, looking at the bare bed overflowing with books, papers and clothes. “I’m sorry,” Linda said to Gina. “I know this isn’t very nice now, but I’ll get it cleaned up right away.” Gina stared mutely at the room. The contrast between her peaceful, blue-and-white-eyelet sanctuary back in Akron and this impersonal mess could not have been more glaring, Linda thought, and she felt silent reproach emanating from the girl standing motionless beside her. “Look,” Linda said, hearing an edge in her voice from fatigue and her feeling of incompetence. “Why don’t you take that bath while I straighten up here a bit?” With a small sob, Gina turned on her heel and ran out of the room. Linda, shocked, simply stared at her without moving. But the sound of the front door opening galvanized her into action. She ran out and down the hall after the fleeing girl. Catching Gina’s small shoulder in front of the elevator, she whirled the child around. Something snapped inside of Linda — the tiredness, her anxiety, her sorrow. “Gina!” Linda shook her shoul- ders a little. “Look, pal, I’m doing the best I can here. I’m new at this, too. You’ve got to help me with this. I don’t have all the answers!” Gina stared at Linda, horrified. “But you’re the grown-up,” she wailed. “You’re supposed to know what to do! I don’t! You’re supposed to know!” Gina’s face crumpled into tears. Linda leaned back, staring at the child, whose head hung down, tears dripping onto her blue top. Linda could almost feel her heart crack with love for the child. She fell to her knees. “Oh Gina, honey,” she whis- pered. “I’m so sorry. So sorry. Please, honey. Please.” And she blindly drew S E P T E M B E R 2 0 0 8 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 49 “But you’re the grown-up,” she wailed. “You’re supposed to know what to do!”