Kayla Kayla is nine and lives on the next block. I meet Kayla for the first time at the beginning of the summer. She just showed up in my yard and commandeered a soccer game my six year old son was playing. A few weeks later she showed up on my doorstep asking to come in and play with Sam. It was early Sunday morning and I thought it was odd that she wanted to play with a boy three years younger. When I asked her if her Mom knew where she was, Kayla said her Mom lived in New Britain a town about a half hour from us. She then proceeded to call her Dad who did not seem to care much where his daughter was.

I have a hard time dealing with Kayla. I know there is something wrong in her life. I want to do the right thing. She however, is like this bottomless pit of needs and wants. Those needs and wants are all wrapped in this frenzied energy that she gives off. If you offer her juice she wants soda (or coke for my Texas friends) if you offer her cookies she wants them and a sandwich. Yet, I don’t think she is really hungry for food, I think she is just hungry to get things. The only way to get Kayla out of our house half the time is to literally give her what my mother calls the “the bum’s rush,” and push her out the door.

There is something really desperate about her. I see her desperation but, I don’t even know how to begin to help her. There is nothing tangible that I could report to child protection. She is clean, well dress and doses not have any marks on her. Whenever I am around Kayla however, I feel like I need to fight being pulled into her vortex. She is just nine but, I have this fight or flight response in my gut. In the end I can not really help her I can only pray.  ¶ 8/23/2005 06:27:00 AM