Runaway (22 page)

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Baby, it's just you and me! Do you have any idea what goes into roasting a turkey? First you've got to cook it for five, maybe eight hours—basting it the whole while—and when the dark meat's finally cooked, the white meat's so dry it needs to be slathered in gravy and cranberries just so you can swallow it. Believe me. You'd be
very
disappointed.” She bit into a KFC drumstick and said, “Now
this
is delicious. It's moist and crispy and tasty.
This
is what a turkey
dreams
of bein'.” She wagged the drumstick at me and said, “Eat up, baby. Eat up! This is
our
tradition, and believe me, it's way better than the old tradition!”

The funny thing is, though, every Thanksgiving she'd open a big can of spiced peaches and a small can of cranberry sauce to go with the KFC. And she'd get this faraway look in her eye when she ate them.

Like she was remembering something.

Maybe a dream.

         

Monday, November 8
^th

There were sacks of food in the church foyer today! I grabbed one that was full of cans and split before anyone saw.

Score!

I've now got an amazing stash of spaghetti, pineapple, beans, stew, tuna, Spam, tamales, nuts…I am set for weeks!

But best of all, in the middle of the sack, I found a can of cranberry sauce and another of spiced peaches!

Spiced peaches!

My mouth is watering just thinking about them!

I'm saving them for Thanksgiving, though.

And sometime between now and then I'm tracking down a KFC.

         

Tuesday the 9
^th

I saw Gregory today. That priest with the Irish accent was tossing a carrot for him like a stick. It was so funny!

I was planning to get my hands on a math book or maybe a language book (one of those with lots of short stories in them—I like those), but on my way over to the junior high it began to drizzle and I started worrying about my house, so I came home. I'm glad I did, too, because there were puddles forming around the base of it. I think it was runoff from the roof, which was kind of surprising (and scary) because it didn't rain very hard at all.

I was wishing for a shovel to dig a trench to divert the water, but the ground is really sandy and I was able to scrape out a pretty good gully with a can. (I used beans, not peaches!)

It took a while to do, and I was pretty wet and dirty by the time I was through, so I almost didn't go out to the soup kitchen (because I have plenty of food here), but that would have been lazy of me.

The soup kitchen turned out to be pretty entertaining because I got to hear the tail end of a “Brother and Sister” shouting match:

         

Brother Phil:
Why do I always have to do it? You do it!

Sister Josephine
(
pointing her cane at him
): Because it's your job to do it!

Phil:
Why's it my job? Who says it's my job?

Josephine:
Father says!

Phil
(
storming off
): Well, it's not fair!

Josephine
(
muttering
): Neither is having to work with you!

         

I have no idea what they were arguing about, but it made me laugh. These are grown-up people, and they're arguing like little kids. Like a real brother and sister.

You know what? If I had a brother or sister, I would just refuse to fight. What could possibly be worth fighting over? If you've got family, you've got everything.

         

Wednesday, 2:15 p.m.

I tried reading my science book today, but my mind kept drifting again. It's making me mad. I'm supposed to be teaching myself the things I'll need to become a veterinarian, but I've had this science book for a week and haven't finished one chapter. Who am I fooling? What kind of ridiculous “plan” is this?

I keep thinking about family, too. Wishing for family. Remembering all the times I sabotaged my chances of being part of someone else's family.

I wish I could go back. I wish I had taken a chance on someone who was willing to take a chance on me.

I just wasn't ready then.

And now it's too late.

         

3:30 p.m.

I've got to stop thinking about this and look at the bright side. I mean, come on! I've got it made here! I'm not hungry. I'm not cold. I have my own place with no one telling me what to do.

Why am I seeing the things I don't have again instead of the things I do?

         

I think I'll go for a walk.

Clear my head.

Find something else to think about.

         

Thursday

There was a girl my age serving food at the soup kitchen this afternoon.

I didn't like it.

I felt embarrassed.

Why is she working there?

         

Is she a nun in training?

A goody-two-shoes?

         

She didn't look like it.

She looked a lot like…me.

         

Thursday night

I went for a long walk up the riverbank. The scenery's pretty much the same as far as you can see. Scrubby trees, tumbleweeds, tall grass, sandy soil…It was starting to get dark, and I was just thinking what a boring waste of time the walk had been when I stubbed my toe on a horseshoe.

A horseshoe!

And while I was pulling it out of the sand, I unearthed another one, buried right beside it.

They made a wonderful sound when I clinked the sand off of them. A Wild West sound. A strike-it-rich sound.

They're making me feel very lucky.

         

Friday, November 12
^th

That girl was at the soup kitchen again today. She started to ask me something, but I tore out of there before she could. The last thing I need is some nosy nun-in-training quizzing me up about stuff that's none of her business.

The good news is that Martin wasn't hanging around today. Neither was Charlene. Maybe they've moved on. Or been arrested.

One can always hope.

         

Sunday

The sky looks so heavy today. Dark and gloomy and
angry.
It's really humid inside my house. I've got the door propped open, but it's not helping much. I'm thinking I should have used tarps to protect my house instead of Hefty sacks. Tarps are way thicker.

I just looked up at the sky again. It's huge. All that water building up, waiting to rain down. Why didn't I ever get an umbrella? I could really use an umbrella.

Maybe I can trade in the horseshoes.

         

2:00 p.m.

I AM SO MAD!!!!!!!! All this time I was worried about Martin, and I should have been worried about that stupid nun-in-training! I came back from a bad encounter with Cece only to find that stupid girl ransacking my house! I jabbed my spear at her and you should have seen her eyes pop. She was shaking in her shoes because she knew I was ready to run her through! Who does she think she is? THIS IS MY HOUSE!

But then her quivery voice said, “Don't kill me, Holly! I'm sorry!”

All I could hear was my name, echoing inside my head.

How did she know my name?

“Holly, please,” she said, holding my sleeping bag in front of her. “Just put down the knife. I'm not here to steal anything.”

I jabbed my spear in closer, even though there was no way I was going to slice up my sleeping bag. “Who sent you?” I asked through my teeth. Fear and anger and betrayal were all combusting inside me. How
dare
she?

“Nobody sent me!” she quivered. “Nobody!”

I didn't believe her. Not for a second. “It was those nuns, wasn't it? Those stupid nosy nuns. How'd they find out who I was? Have they been—”

“No!” she said. “Your name's in your jacket! And I'm only here because I thought you might have Father Mayhew's goblets and cross.”

“Goblets and cross? What goblets and cross?”

“He thought
I
took them, and I saw you in church the other day, and when you came through the food line, I heard something clinking in your backpack and I thought—”

“Well, you thought wrong!” I shouted, jabbing the spear at her again. Then I really let her have it. “You thought breaking into a cardboard box wouldn't be the same thing as breaking into someone's home, didn't you! You thought tearing through someone's bags of stuff wouldn't be the same as tearing through someone's kitchen or closet, didn't you? You probably live in some cushy little house and sleep in some cushy little bed and have someone put a warm meal in front of your spoiled little face every night!”

“You're wrong!” she shouted back. “I live in a seniors-only apartment with my grandmother where kids aren't even allowed! I have to sneak up the fire escape so no one sees me! Everything I own fits into my grandmother's bottom drawer!”

“Oh, poor you,” I said, but I was thinking, Man! This girl knows how to come up with a lie
quick.

Then she said, “So maybe I don't live in a box, but there's no way I've got it
cushy.”
She frowned and added, “And I am sorry. I really am. My friends and I followed you out here on Friday because we…”

I don't even know what the end of the sentence was. All I heard was “my friends and I.” It was like a slug to the stomach. I staggered backward and sat on the riverbank. I couldn't seem to catch my breath.

Her
friends
? How many people knew? How long would it be before some stupid social worker got sent to “rescue” me?

My beautiful house. My first real home. It was over. I was going to have to move.

She caught me crying, which made me madder than ever. “This place was perfect!” I sobbed. “Why couldn't you just have left me alone!”

“We won't tell, I promise!”

I snorted and slapped away tears. “Oh, sure. Right. Like I believe that!”

She sat next to me and said, “But why are you living down here?”

I jumped up and shouted, “Because I'm sick of people treating me like dirt! Because I don't want some foster-home jerk locking me in a closet or Sani-Flushing me ever again!” Her eyes were really popping now, so I snapped, “And why are you working at the soup kitchen? You some sort of nun-in-training?”

She blinked at me, then laughed really hard. “A nun-in-training? No! I'm working off detention for school. They gave me twenty hours for ‘using and abusing the school's PA system.'” She grinned at me. “Among other things.”

Among other things? I wanted to laugh, but I stopped myself. I wanted to hate her, but somehow I couldn't.

Twenty hours of detention?

The most I'd ever gotten was two!

I was dying to ask,
How
did you use and abuse the school's PA system? What school? Do you go to that bullfrog school? What's it like? Twenty hours? Wow! But I stopped myself in the nick of time. “Look,” I growled at her. “This place took me a long time to build and I don't feel like moving.” I grabbed my spear again. “So if you or one of your little friends decide to rat on me…”

“We won't!” she said. “Trust me, we won't!”

I snorted. “Trust you?
Trust
you? What kind of idiot do you think I am?”

“Well, I trusted you!” she said. “I told you all sorts of top-secret stuff!”

I sneered at her. “Shows how bright
you
are…” Then I shrugged and said, “So if you don't want me spillin' your secret, don't spill mine.”

The funny thing is, she thought that was a fair bargain, even though her secret seems worthless compared to mine. I don't even know where she lives or what her name is or anything. But if she's worried about me ratting her off, fine. I'll use it.

I sure hope she keeps her mouth shut because I can't exactly move now. I'm sure it's going to rain any minute.

Besides, I don't
want
to move.

This is my home.

         

Monday the 15
^th

No cops showed up last night, but I'm kicking myself for not following
her
home yesterday. If I knew where she lived, then I'd really have something to hold over her head.

Hmm.
I wonder how many “seniors-only” apartments this town has.

And she mentioned a fire escape.

Maybe I
can
track her down….

I've also got to track down a shovel. It rained a little last night, and although it didn't unload like I thought it might, the sky's still heavy and angry-looking, and it's going to. Soon.

I tried trenching a little deeper with a can, but even with the soil moist, it's slow and hard.

Maybe I could score a shovel from someone's backyard. Or, hey! How about from a gardener's truck. Or a road-repair truck! Yeah! I bet there are hundreds of shovels out there just waiting to come home with me.

I should have thought of this days ago….

         

Almost 4 p.m.

I am chock-full of new information!

Here's what I found out today:

There are four senior buildings in town, but only one has fire escape stairs. (I called them all from a pay phone, and the other three places said, “They're not necessary here. We're only a single-story facility.”)

So now I know where she lives
and
…

I also know she goes to the bullfrog school! I wandered over there because it's not far from the seniors building, and there was some big-deal girls' softball game going on. The whole school was out cheering and whistling. It was an intense game. The coaches actually got into a fight! No fists flew, but there was a lot of shouting, and some big guy had to step in to break it up.