Kirby's Secret - Part 3
by Carrie Harris

"We're here to help, Kirby. We just want you to be safe, and we want to help you," the first man said, while his partner continued to hold from behind.

Kirby quickly realised that he couldn't get away by fighting, so he relaxed his body and resorted to glaring at the first man.

"Who are you?" he challenged. "What right do you have to do this?"

"I'm David, and this is Aaron. We're from child protection. We had a report that a fifteen-year-old boy was living here, and we came to investigate. You are fifteen, aren't you?"

"Yes. Can you let me go now? You're hurting my arm!" Kirby felt the man behind him loosen his grip, and he held his left arm close to his chest. The broken arm would surely have healed by now, but Kirby had been afraid to visit a doctor to have the cast removed.

Kirby sat down on the grass just outside his cave, and looked carefully at the two men.
"So what happens now?" he asked.

"First, I think we should get you to a doctor for a check-up. You look half-starved and pale, and I really think we need to get that arm looked at. After that, we'll take you back to the office and figure out what you need."

"And what if I don't want to go? I've been doing fine looking after myself."

"You really have no choice. You are only fifteen, so the law sees you as a child. This means you need to be protected. If you won't come with us willingly, we'll need to get the police involved."

David knelt on one knee and put his arm on Kirby's shoulder.
"We really do want what is best for you. We're here to help you, and to do the best we can for you."

Kirby thought it over for a moment.
"Okay, I'll come if you promise I don't have to go home."

David nodded, and stood up again.
"Listen Kirby, we know you wouldn't be out here if there wasn't a real problem. We'll let you tell us what that problem is in due course, but we really do need to get you to a doctor."

Aaron went into the 'cave' and came out with Kirby's personal belongings, including a blanket that he wrapped around Kirby's shivering body. He had worked for child protection for many years, and had dealt with many kids like Kirby.

As promised, the first stop was the hospital, where Kirby was checked over by a doctor while Aaron and David waited in the foyer.

The cast was removed, much to Kirby's relief, but having it on for so long had left Kirby's arm weak. He struggled with the simple tests the doctor gave, such as squeezing the doctor's hand or raising his arm above his head.

The doctor was also concerned that Kirby seemed malnourished, and decided it would be best if he spent a day or two in the hospital for monitoring.

David signed the necessary forms for Kirby's admission, then the two headed back to the office to report to their superior.

Kirby was more exhausted than he had been willing to admit, and he fell asleep long before he was taken up to the ward.

Kirby was disoriented when he awoke early the next morning. His usual clothes were gone, and he was lying in a hospital bed with a drip in his hand. The room was still dark, but there was light creeping in from the hall.

Kirby looked around, and saw that he was in a room with three empty beds, but he was too exhausted to get out of bed and look around. With a sense of relief that came from not having to be on constant alert, Kirby lay back down and returned to sleep.

Later that morning, Kirby woke up to see David standing beside him. He looked around, but couldn't see Aaron anywhere.

"Good morning Kirby. Breakfast will be here shortly, but I need to fill in some forms so I can get a start on arrangements for you. Do you feel up to talking?"

"Yeah, I guess …" Kirby yawned, and made himself comfortable.

David carefully asked some basic questions; full name, date of birth, parent's address … then left so that Kirby was free to eat his breakfast in peace.

On Kirby's third day in the hospital, the doctor told him that he was happy to let him go home. Kirby immediately stiffened; had it not been for the hospital gown he was wearing, he would have run.

"I can't go home, I can't!" he cried, the edge of hysteria in his voice, and the doctor raised his hand calmly to quiet him.

"Don't worry son. I'm to understand that arrangements have been made for you. Your case worker will be in later to speak to you, and then we'll decide from there what will happen. For now, I'd like you to just rest. The sister will be along shortly to remove the cannula from your hand."

With that, the doctor made a few notes in Kirby's chart, then withdrew the curtain and walked away.

"What are you looking at?" Kirby snapped at the ruddy-faced boy in the bed opposite, and rolled over to lay on his side. The other boy, who had come in last night with appendicitis and had no interest in Kirby, closed his eyes and slept.

David and Aaron arrived just after 3pm, and found Kirby sitting on his bed, dressed in jeans and a clean shirt. He had been reading a magazine, but looked up when they walked in.

Aaron pulled the curtain around as David sat in the chair next to the bed, then stood in the gap where the curtain didn't quite close.

"Okay Kirby, we've spoken to the doctor," David began. "He's happy for you to be discharged. Now, you have two choices. There is a foster home available to take you in, but there is also a room available at the youth shelter on Praherial Street. It's up to you."

Kirby considered his options. Although he didn't relish the thought of living with other kids like himself, with goodness knows what problems, he didn't like the idea of being in a foster home. What if they were like Sarah and Kym?

"I think I'd rather go into the hostel," Kirby admitted. David then fished around in his briefcase, made a note on a bit of paper, and then stood up and left the room while Aaron waited with Kirby.

"Are you sure about that?" Aaron asked. "It can be pretty tough living with other troubled kids." Kirby nodded.
"Okay then Kirby. Get your things together, and we'll take you there when David gets back." Kirby quickly gathered his few belongings, and shoved them into his backpack.

"What happened to the rest of my things?" he asked quickly. For the past few days, he had been too tired to do anything but sleep, but suddenly he remembered his little 'apartment' under the overpass.

"Don't worry about that," Aaron advised. "It's all been taken care of." Kirby wondered how exactly it had been 'taken care of', but didn't question further. It didn't really matter to him anyway.

David returned with the doctor soon after, who gave Kirby a quick look over, and then they were on their way.

The hostel wasn't what Kirby had imagined. He had expected some kind of sterile-looking building, with signs out the front, and possibly a carpark …

David pulled into the driveway of a long, ordinary house, with two front doors. Kirby immediately recognised it as one of the double houses littered throughout Serenity, except there was no dividing fence.

Kirby was lead to the door on the left, and Aaron leaned over to ring the bell. Moments later, the door was opened by a tall man with neat dark blonde hair and blue eyes.
"Hello Alan," David said. "This is Kirby, the boy we called about." The man nodded, and opened the door.

Kirby followed Aaron and David in through the mesh door, and was invited to sit in one of the office chairs littered around the office. There were three desks, two of which housed a computer, the third with a messy pile of papers.

Alan sat in front of one of the computers, and pulled up a program, then turned towards the two welfare workers.
"It's okay guys, I can take it from here. Can you sign the register?" Alan asked cheerfully. Aaron quickly wrote on one of the various pieces of paper on the desk without a computer, and then he and David said goodbye to Kirby before heading out the door.

Alan then turned his attention to Kirby.
"So Kirby, I hear things aren't so hot at home?" he began, and Kirby looked at his hands.
"No sir. Things aren't so good," Kirby replied. Alan turned his attention back to the computer, and started to type.

"Okay Kirby, we're happy to let you stay here, but we need some information from you first, okay?" Kirby looked up in alarm, but Alan was still looking at the computer screen.
"Don't worry mate, we're not going to ask anything too personal, just a few routine questions to keep the government people happy."

Kirby relaxed a little, but remained tense and ready to run. He looked at the door, which was locked by one of those automatic catches. He was sure he could open it from the inside, if he needed to.

"Okay mate, first I need your full name."
"Cabraius Elroy Dane," Kirby muttered. "Kirby for short." Alan raised an eyebrow, but didn't turn around. He simply asked Kirby to spell it.

"No worries. Um, date of birth?" Alan ran through all the usual questions, then got a bit of a history about Kirby's home life and subsequent time on the streets, and finally ran through the house policy.

"There is a small amount of rent that needs to be paid, but we don't expect that until you have some sort of income. Are you currently on any kind of government assistance?" he asked, and Kirby shook his head. It had never occurred to him to apply for one.

"Not a problem, mate. We'll help you to apply, and we'll also write a referral to their youth assistance officer. I'll get you settled in first, though," he said, and closed the program. He picked up a large bag that Kirby hadn't noticed, and prompted Kirby to follow him.

"As you can tell, this is the office. If you want to come and go after 7pm, this is where you'll need to come. The door at the other end of the house gets locked at 7pm for security reasons. There is always one worker on duty at night, and at least two during the day."

Alan led him through a small kitchen, and pointed out a door on either side of the hall.
"This," he said, pointing to the door on the right, "is the worker's overnight room. The other door is the counselling room." They came to a door that obviously closed across the passage.

"This door gets locked at 5pm. From then until 8am, you can knock on this door if you need assistance, but it is generally understood that it's for emergencies only. After 5pm, the overnight worker is technically off-duty."

A few more steps, and they came to a group of doors leading off from the passage.
"These are some of the bedrooms," Alan explained. "Yours will be the third one along on the right, with a view of the street. Each door has a key. The resident has one key, the office has the other."

Alan led Kirby to the third door on the right and inserted a key, which he then gave to Kirby.
"This is your room, and this is your key. You are responsible for that key, and if you lose it, you must replace it. This room is your responsibility. It must be kept tidy at all times, but other than that, it's yours to decorate how you see fit."

Alan put the bag on the bed.
"This bag contains everything that was found in your DIY digs under the bridge," he grinned. "Seems you had quite a little nest set up there, kid." Kirby pocketed the key and looked around his new room. It was small, but neat, and had a desk, a wardrobe, and a single bed with a small chest of drawers beside it.

"The workers will check in from time to time to make sure you're keeping your room neat, but they will always knock and wait to be let in. The only time they will come in without your permission is if they believe you have harmed yourself," Alan continued.

"Every Sunday, you will be required to vacuum and dust your room. I'll show you were the cleaning equipment is in just a moment, so you can clean more if you like. If you come with me, I'll show you around the rest of the house."

Kirby closed the door behind them and tested the locked, then followed Alan down the hall and into a spacious lounge room with a blackboard on one wall.
"This," Alan said, pointing to the blackboard, "is the chores board."

"Every Sunday, every resident is required to help with the general chores of the house." He picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote Kirby's name in one of the boxes, under three other names.

"The chores you are given for that week will be written here, along with any messages for you."

Alan then led Kirby to the left, into the kitchen area. There were several cupboards, some with locks and numbers, and there were two fridges side by side, and a stove, sink, and bench.

"This is where you will make your meals. The kitchen at the other end of the house is for the workers. Your room key will also open your cupboard, and you can store the food you buy in here. You are in room 4, so your key will open cupboard 4. Try it."

Kirby reached up and put the key in the lock, and opened the cupboard to find cereal, flour, pasta, and a few other odds and ends.
"Those are there to get you started," Alan explained. "Until you have an income, you will be provided with the basics. The bread on the counter, the coffee, tea, sugar and milk, are all to be shared."

Alan then went on to explain the fridge shelf system, where each resident had their own shelf to store items, as well as the cleaning up system, where each resident was designated a night to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen.

Kirby's head was swimming by the time everything had been explained to him, so Alan took him outside to the porch area, led him through to the worker's smoking area, and offered him a coke from the outside fridge.

"I know it's a lot to take in, Kirby, but it's all to make sure that everyone share the responsibilities of the house. The other residents are out at the moment, one of them works, and others are still at school, but I'm sure you'll get along with them."

Just then the back door opened, and a small woman with long, blonde hair stepped outside.
"Hi, you must be Kirby," she smiled, and held out her hand. "I'm Tanya. I'm the other worker on duty today. Just had to duck out and sort out an issue with the beaurocrats." Tanya helped herself to a fanta, and sat down.
"Karen's on her way home," she said to Alan, who nodded. Alan quickly filled her in on what had happened while she had been out, and then Tanya went back inside.

Kirby asked if he could go and lie down, and Alan smiled.
"Sure. It's a lot to get used to all at once, eh?" Kirby smiled weakly, and made his way back to his room, locking the door behind him. He didn't lie down, but instead sat on the bed, holding his knees and rocking gently as tears began to creep down his cheeks.