Maddie
The next day
I had a miserable night last night, but right now I am in the absolute best mood. You're not going to believe where I am!
I happened to find this place while I was searching again for The People's Church. (My friends from last night tried to give me directions to the church, but I don't think I understood right.)
Forget that. Right now I'm inside the coolest building I have ever seen. It's big, with tall ceilings and echoing halls.
So where am I?
Hint #1: I haven't told you the main thing they have here.
Hint #2: You'd love it here!
Give up?
I'm in the library.
This is nothing like the hardly-ever-open Aaronville library. This place is a museum of books. Floor after floor of books! I wandered around for hours and am now in the teen section. It's unbelievable here: cushy couches and coffee tables and magazines... it's more like a lounge than a library.
I've picked out a few books and magazines, too. There's one about escaping from Alcatraz. (You've heard of Alcatraz, right? The old prison on an island? I never knew this, but it's in California.)
One of the magazines caught my attention, which is why I grabbed it. On the cover was a young woman, long, blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. She's wearing a purple blouse, and an orange pencil skirt. She's pretty. It says her name is Jennifer Lawrence.
I could probably sneak the books out of the library, but why would I?
It's cool and comfortable here, and there's no traffic noise. Plus, the bathrooms are nice, and everybody's minding their own business.
Too bad the library closes at eight.
Too bad they don't have free food.
Forget about that. I'll deal with sleep and hunger later. Right now I'm going to sit on this cushy chair and read!
* * *
3:45 PM
Guess what?
I found a room with a refrigerator and scored big-time! Two sandwiches, a couple of yogurt cups, a can of almonds, and some beef jerky. I stashed them in my jacket quick, then went into a bathroom stall, scarfed some of it down, and put the rest of it in my backpack.
I love this place!
* * *
7:45 PM
The library's closing in 15 minutes. All of a sudden I'm really, really tired. I shouldn't have spent the whole day reading. I should have found that church. Or I should've taken a nap in here.
Maybe I'll hide behind the bookshelves and wait for the place to close down. It would be so nice to sleep on a couch...
But what if they have night security? What if I get caught? They'll know I'm homeless. They'll turn me in.
Crap.
* * *
10:30 PM
There are guards roaming around. Two, I think. They cruised through the teen section but haven't come back for a while. I can't see any cameras mounted on the walls, scanning the room, so I hope I'm safe for the night.
I'm going to forget the couch (even though it's calling my name really LOUD). It's in the wide-open middle of this room, and they'd see me for sure if they came through again. I thought about snagging two of the couch cushions and bringing them back here, but then I can't pretend to have fallen asleep during business hours if I get caught. (That's what I'm planning to say if they find me. "Oh no! I can't believe it! I've got to get home. My mother is going to be SO worried!")
Better safe and uncomfortable than comfy and caught.
* * *
The next day, 8:45 AM
Close call! I was on my way to the bathroom, because my bladder couldn't make it to opening time to get relieved, when this lady came into the teen section with a cart of books. I held really, really still, and she was too busy rolling the cart around, putting books on the shelves, that she didn't notice me. The minute she went around a stack, I beat it to the bathroom.
So now I'm in a stall, killing time before the library opens. I hope there's some librarian's lavatory that they use instead of this one. One look at my shoes under the divider and they'll know I don't work here. Then they'll bust me and find a yogurt cup and figure out that I just had their lunch for breakfast.
* * *
10:45 AM
Back in my teen-section chair, comfy and fairly safe. I did get "The Look" from a librarian. At least I think she's a librarian. She asked me, "Weren't you here yesterday?"
"Yes, ma'am," I said with a smile. "I love the library." Then I added, "My mom's a lawyer, and I beg her to take me here whenever she has to do research. I love books, and getting to spend whole days at the library is the best!"
So okay, I laid it on pretty thick. But she smiled and nodded, and I think the bit about my mom being a lawyer was a stroke of genius, don't you? Who wants to mess with a girl whose mother is a lawyer?
* * *
3:15 PM
The story about escaping Alcatraz was pretty good. I like escaping books. I can relate.
I found other magazines about Jennifer Lawrence. She's an award-winning actress. How cool is that? You know what's kind of funny? We kind of look like we could be related. Same blue eyes, blonde hair. She's a lot taller than me.
I've gotten "The Look" about ten times in the past hour, and I know the clock is ticking. I tried to wash up in the bathroom, but it's not even close to the same thing as a shower. No matter how polite I act, my clothes are filthy and I know I look awful.
I guess it's time for me to find that church.
I wish I could get a library card. I'd really like to finish my books.
I guess I'll have to steal it.
* * *
8:00 PM
When I realized my little vacation at the library was coming to an end, I started getting really stressed out. I didn't want to go back outside! I started thinking about how long it takes to go anywhere in the city. How depressed and disoriented and hungry I've been living here. Then I got the brilliant idea that the library might have maps, and it does! Tons of them!
And guess what?
I'm only about 15 miles from the ocean! I could walk that in a day! (Or two.) And I could go south or west. The coastline curves around, so either way I'll wind up at the Pacific Ocean!
I was so excited to know my way out of this cement trap that I almost just started walking. But I was also hungry and needed a shower and clean clothes. So first I looked up the address of The People's Church in the phone book.
No wonder I couldn't find it! It doesn't look anything like a church. No pointy roof or stained-glass windows. No crosses or statues of Jesus or Mary or angels. Just a little sign posted on a basement door that says The People's Church.
It's an actual underground church!
I told the pastor, "My mom said to meet her here because-" But before I could even finish building up my lie, he waved me in. "Come! Come in! The House of the Lord welcomes all I'm Reverend Raymond, this is Shawna, and we're here to help you in any way we can."
They are believers, and you know what? It's nice to be around them. I've taken a shower, gotten clean clothes, eaten a ton of baked spaghetti, and I've got my own mat, pillow, and blanket over here in the corner. And they haven't asked me once, "So... when did you say your mother was coming?"
If it wasn't for the druggies and schizos, I might actually feel comfortable.
* * *
August 1st
Summer is going by fast and I haven't even seen the ocean. I wasted yesterday sleeping. Except for stuffing my face during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I slept the whole day away. I wasn't wide awake at night, in case you're wondering. I slept the whole night away, too.
It felt so good.
Still no questions about my mother.
Shawna made me go to church this morning. "Time to give thanks," she told me. "Time to let Him hear your gratitude."
"I'm grateful to you, anyway," I muttered.
"I'm just the messenger," she said with a smile. "Tell Him."
So I went into the "chapel" (a cramped room with a very low ceiling and folding chairs), and I listened to Reverend Raymond sermonize about the bounty of blessings the Lord has laid on the table for our feasting, and how the Light is the way for God's lost flock to find its way Home.
I was surprised to see so many children at the service. Maybe it's the bounty of donuts and orange drinks and coffee that the reverend and Shawna put out. After the sermon, everyone pigged out, tanked up, and took off.
* * *
4:45 PM I've lost track again
I should know better than to walk along the main streets. Cops use main streets. But when I left The People's Church, I wanted to get out of Cement City and to the ocean as fast as I could.
I almost asked Shawna about the beaches and which one she thought was the best, but I really didn't want her or the reverend to know where I was planning to go.
"Sweet child," she said, "I think we should get you some help. That mama of yours is just not showing up."
"Oh, she's coming," I told her, like I really believed it. "We've done this before and you don't mind me staying here, do you?"
"No, of course not! I'm just hopin' everything's okay."
"Everything's fine," I said. "And you've been really, really nice. Thank you."
So I acted like I was planning to stay longer, but the first chance I got, I stashed away a ton of food and took off.
According to a big billboard temperature sign that I saw, it was 101 degrees yesterday. Actually, I'm sure it was hotter than that. There's asphalt heat. I swear heat radiates off the street and jacks the temperature up another ten degrees. And all the air conditioners that are cranked up to cool off the inside of buildings pump hot air outside. So up in the sky where they've got that temperature signs it may be 101 degrees, but down here om the street with the fire-breathing air conditioners and asphalt, it's more like 120 degrees.
WHERE'S THE OCEAN?!
Too late to find that today, so let me finish telling you about the cops:
The same cop saw me, two days in a row. I recognized her and she recognized me, because how many twelve year olds with green corduroy pants (that's all they had at The People's Church that fit me) and an overstuffed backpack do you see hiking down the same street, miles from where you'd spotted them the day before?
But instead of doing something really constructive like offering me a lift to the ocean so I could jump in and COOL OFF, she pulled over and called, "Excuse me?"
I didn't pay one bit or attention to her. I just kept walking.
"Excuse me?" she said again, and this time she came onto the sidewalk.
I smiled at her and kept walking.
"Stop!" she commanded. "I'm talking to you!"
I turned and did something my mom used to do. I asked her, "Pardonnez-moi?" (Forgive me?) like I didn't understand a word she was saying.
She frowned at me and said, "You some two-pint tourist?"
I only know about three French words, but that's all my mom knew, either, so I did what she used to do: I made up whole sentences of phony French.
"Stop!" the cop snapped. "You don't understand English?"
"Oui! Oui!" (Yes! Yes!) I said, then spoke a bunch more of phony French. And in an effort to get away from her, I channeled my phony mother, Louise, as I curtsied and said, "Au revoir!" (Good bye!)
It worked. The cop threw her hands in the air, made some grumbling sounds, and got back in her cruiser.
Inside, I felt really good. Like both my mother and Louise were watching over me, helping me.