"Well, step this way Miss Greene, I'm sure I can answer some of your questions," The silver-haired man smiled at me. I didn't trust him. I followed him, however, to an office at the very end of the hallway. He opened the door, which groaned and protested, but eventually let us through. The room was a lot brighter than I anticipated, instantly making me feel at ease.
Oddly, the room reminded me of a doctor's consulting room with the desk in the corner of the room and two swivel chairs facing eachother. 'The grey man', I thought to myself, 'potentially amusing nickname'. He indicated for me to sit on the plush purple of the chair, which I did, as he sat opposite me.
"My name is Mr Smith, but that feels way too formal - call me David," He winked at me, "Dave if you like. What's yours?"
"Miss Greene. But you can call me Amy," I did not return the wink, and I was certainly out of my comfort zone.
"Fantastic Amy, do you know who I am?" He asked patiently.
"Erm, the guy running this operation?" I hazarded a guess.
"Well done; that usually takes people a few guesses," I thought he sounded a little patronising, "normally people can just state my main job," it was as if he was hinting at something.
"That wasn't it?" I was astounded.
"No," he chuckled, "don't you watch the News?"
"No," I looked down, playing with the ends of my shawl, "we don't own a television".
"What about radio? Computer? Telephone?" He looked desperate, but when I looked blank he finally announced "I'm the president!" I clamped my hand over my mouth. I felt like such an idiot.
No way, no actual way. This was not happening, not to me. What should I do? Bow? Curtsey? Kneel?
"I'm so sorry, I - I didn't realise," I closed my eyes and bowed my head. He took my chin by his index finger, and tilted my head up so that we were face to face.
"Chill," okay so now he sounded like the teenager.
"But, but you're..." I trailed off - I found him being president completely and utterly incomprehendable.
"Just a normal person, like you," he finished for me, smiling.
It went on like that for some time, me making statements and him saying how 'normal' he apparently was. I didn't mind the strange chatter because it kept my mind off what I was here for - some reason unbeknown to me, but I evidently was not one of the first of my kind here. It was as if David could read my mind, as he asked "so Amy, do you know why you were brought here?"
"To be fostered?" The reason sounded stupid to me now.
"Eventually; I was actually hoping you had some information on your parents," he said the word 'parents' very loosely.
"Well, they're lawyers," I started off but was unable to finish.
"Yes Amy, but I don't think you understand what I mean," he rested his hands on my shoulders. "I meant do you know about anything they've done during their careers? Do you know any of the cases that they handled?"
"I'm sorry, they never spoke to me about that, I don't even know what TYPE of lawyers they are -ahem- were," I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head.
"Oh well, not to worry; all you need to know is that they delved into some classified investigations, and that we had to eliminate the threat to national security," he then smiled, "which brings us back to the delicate matter of what to suggest to you. We will of course get you the very best foster care-"
"I don't want to have to fit in with some other family. I can look after myself," I said stubbornly, interrupting him and folding my arms.
"But surely, there're positives to being fostered?" He questioned me; maybe it was supposed to be a rehtorical question. I answered it anyway.
"The negatives outweigh the positives," I was adamant.
"Such as..." he prompted.
"Lack of freedom, not that I had that beforehand, constant pity, always being checked on... Need I go on?" I said, flapping my hands about.
"Fair enough," he shrugged.