Cherry bombs burst as they fell from the rim of the roof. Bottle rockets were shot at the moon and then fell to the lake below.
The children on the rooftop said that this celebration was even better than the first holiday in Grandville. There was a lot more to celebrate. The blistered hands that clapped and touched other hands had built something new.
The children on the outside, watching from dozens of dark places, finally had the answer to their mystery. They knew where Grand Avenue had gone. The strange night happenings of the past weeks at last made sense.
If those watching children had been able to stand in the cold throughout the night, they would have learned even more. The celebration lasted till dawn. The citizens of Glenbard sang a new song, and they shouted cheers and challenges that broke the silence of the icy night.
At sunrise, an awkward, small bugler sounded a new call. Slowly, a bright orange-and-yellow flag was raised above the new city.
CHAPTER TWELVE
T
he next year was a busy, happy time at Glenbard. Word of the new city spread quickly. Every day, children called up from the street to a rooftop sentry, “Can we join your city?” A committee of three would emerge from a heavy door under the protection of the rooftop sentries. The committee would ask: “Who are you? Where did you live? Why did you leave? What gang did you join? Who was the leader? Why did you quit?” All of these questions and several more had to be answered.
Many were turned away—not for lack of room, but because no one in the city knew them or because someone in the city did know them and said they couldn’t be trusted. The committee wouldn’t take any chances. Craig was the most skeptical of the three. He asked hard, tricky questions like, “Do you know my good friend, Tom Logan?” The unwise child who thought any friend of Tom Logan could get in had to leave.
But many new families were taken in, and the city changed. There were crowds of new citizens who brought their own ideas. By summer there were 90 kids at Glenbard. By September, the classrooms had over 300 students. The population kept growing.
On January 16th of the next year, almost 400 citizens jammed the rooftop for the evening celebration. They shouted challenges to the armies who threatened them from below. By the end of April, 19 months after the plague, Glenbard’s population was just over 500.
Some of them thought that the girl who owned the city was very odd. “How could a girl own a city?” they said. “Why should a girl own a city? People don’t own things like cities!”
Others just disliked her. “What does she do for Glenbard?” they asked. “We hardly ever see her.” But they knew that she was not idle. It was rumored that she only slept every other night, and that she still worked by candlelight in the dark tower chamber. “What a silly thing!” they said. “There’s no need for that anymore.”
During the day, however, Lisa did make her presence felt. She inspected the kitchen, gave orders to workers who were getting new rooms ready, sent her trucks to secret supply places, and settled arguments between the citizens.
Most of the children admired her and liked her strong way of doing things. She always seemed busy, and though she did not smile or laugh very often, they could tell by the way she moved about that she was happy. “You’d be happy, too, if you owned a whole city,” someone said.
But Lisa was finding that it wasn’t easy running a city, especially one growing as fast as hers. There were problems every minute of the day. “Lisa, we’re out of fuel for the torches,” Charlie might tell her. She would answer, “Well, I’ll add it to the supply list. It will be here by tonight. How much do you need?”
Then there were not enough books. “Go get them from the Lombard schools,” she’d decide. There was a big fight in the west wing. “Bring them to me.” Room 110 wouldn’t be ready by tomorrow, and the Wilson kids were getting tired of living in the gym. “Well, get somebody to work through the night. We promised to have it ready!”
The leaders of the city always seemed to be one step behind the problems. Still, it was exciting. They had great fun at their meetings, laughing at the funny things that happened each day. They teased each other but grew to be friends.
“You’re not going to believe what Lisa did today,” said the construction manager. “She gave us drawings for the family rooms in the south basement area and forgot to put any doors in three of the apartments.”
“This place is all confusion. You know what it’s like to build walls without nails? Not easy. But it’s even harder without wood! When can we get some lumber?”
There were lots of problems, but the council had plenty of help. The new children brought new skills to Glenbard. They were all happy to be free of gangs and starvation. For many months, the problems seemed challenging and exciting.
“Planning is the secret,” Lisa said over and over again. “If we can anticipate problems before they happen, then we’ll succeed.” They had never run a city before, and they learned most of their lessons the hard way. But they seemed to be making enough right decisions. Things were going well. Soon Glenbard would be full.
“Not bad for a year’s work!” Lisa boasted. And then she admitted what was also true. “A year of very hard work,” she said, as she studied the tired faces of her assistants—Craig, Jill, Steve, Todd, Charlie, and the six new council members.
Glenbard’s defense plan was the biggest success of all. There had been eight enemy attacks and none of them had lasted more than 10 minutes. Boiling oil in the face had a way of making a gang leader choose other targets.
There had been attacks by seven different gangs. Six never tried a second time. But Tom Logan tried twice. He dreamed up a clever plan for the second attack, but it wasn’t clever enough to beat the rooftop soldiers, who scarred his face with the burning oil. Charlie wondered if revenge would bring Tom back a third time with his 150 soldiers.
Charlie was turning out to be a good military leader, but he was worried about Logan. “Lisa,” he said at one council meeting. “I think he’s going to be back. Tom’s no dummy. We’ve got to watch out for him. For some reason he wants to get us.”
“Charlie, you worry too much,” she said. Looking at Craig, she added, “You generals are all alike!”
They both looked back at her. Craig said, “Lisa, you don’t worry enough!”
Later that night, alone in the tower chamber, Lisa thought about what Craig had said. Maybe he had a point. They couldn’t take any chances. Logan could have spies in Glenbard already, and even if Tom gave up, there were plenty of other gangs. The city had to be prepared.
She’d discuss it with Charlie tomorrow. They would figure out some new plan. Maybe a walking army of their own was what they needed. After all, they had 510 people—or was it 518? She couldn’t even keep track anymore.
They wonder why I seem so strong. They think I’m something special because I run my own city. Don’t they see that it’s fun, and that any one of them could do it, too? All you have to do is look at the old world for the clues. There are hundreds of books that tell you how to do it.
Then, in a harsher tone, she said out loud, “You know the truth, don’t you? You’re still a kid just like the rest of them. How did you get yourself into all of this? You’re scared to death, aren’t you? And tired, too.” She tried to think of tomorrow’s problems. It didn’t work.
The citizens wondered why she sat in this dark room. They called it her ‘chamber.’ But she couldn’t leave the room or change it in any way. It was the only place where she could really think.
Then thinking became too hard, and she decided to inspect the roof sentries. She went outside. The fresh air felt good. It cleared her mind.
“How does it look tonight, Jody?” She was glad she had remembered the sentry’s name.
“Looks just fine, Lisa. But you’d better tell Charlie to do something about those dogs. I dropped my stone a few minutes ago and there was no barking at all. They must all be sleeping. Maybe we’ve been feeding them too much.” When
he turned again to look at her, she was peering over the wall.
“Jody! Come here and look. The dogs do seem to be sleeping—but it’s not right. You can’t feed them that much food. There’s something wrong! Something is wrong!
“Sound the ‘quiet’ alarm and get the militia up here. Now!” she ordered. While he passed the word, she ran to the other end of the building. All the dogs were lying still.
“I’m going down to see what’s the matter,” she called to the nearest sentry. “Get some kids with rifles over here to cover me. Here, help me with the rope ladder. Todd, is that you?” She had forgotten that her little brother had sentry duty on the rooftop this night.
On the way down she realized her mistake. If there was trouble, why was she going down into it? But it was too late—she was on the ground.
She went to the nearest dog. Its body was cold. She ran to the next. Dead. She knew they had been poisoned.
She started to run for the rope ladder, but her path was blocked by a boy with a hideous scar on his face.
“Let me by!” she ordered, but he was not from Glenbard, and he grabbed her.
She bit him until he screamed. Two soldiers rushed to his rescue and grabbed her by the arms. She couldn’t move.
“Let me go! Sentry!” she shouted to the roof. “Pull the ladder up, quickly!”
“Lisa,” the boy with the scarred face said, “it won’t help for you to fight. I’ve got 200 soldiers surrounding your lousy Glenbard. It was nice of you to drop in,” he laughed. “Don’t you recognize me with my new face? I’m Tom Logan. Your boiling oil trick won’t work tonight, Lisa. Your city is not your city anymore. It’s ours now. So relax. I don’t want to hurt you.” For a moment he seemed almost kind.
But she didn’t believe him. She fought him and, somehow, she broke free and ran. “Stop, Lisa, or we’ll shoot! Stop, Lisa! We don’t want to . . . .”
Those were the last words she heard. There was a deadly pain in her, somewhere, and she fell silently near the bushes.
“Who did that?” Logan shouted. “I told you not to shoot until I gave the order. See if she’s all right!”
A soldier studied her body and came back to Tom with his report. “I think she’s dead. There’s blood all over her head, and she isn’t breathing.”
Tom shuddered. In all his violent days, he had never killed anyone. He knew it was a mistake, but did that really change anything? Why her? he wondered for a moment.
“Don’t shoot till I say so!” he shouted. Tom then shouted a bluff to the sentry above. “We’ve got her! We’ve got your leader! So don’t throw any of your junk down here or we’ll kill her. And I mean it! Open the big door—we’re coming in!” The doors opened slowly.
The army of Chidester, Elm, and Lenox streets filed into Glenbard. They took over the city without resistance. They had the guns and the girl who owned the city.
“You see!” boasted Tom Logan to his captains. “I knew it would work. Wasn’t I right?” Now he was the leader of the city.
Tom’s soldiers were everywhere. The citizens of Glenbard were frightened and helpless. Their lives had changed into a nightmare.
“Where is Lisa?” Craig demanded.
Tom bluffed again. “We’re keeping her below in a safe place, just to be sure you don’t do something stupid. We’ll kill her if you try anything dumb!”
Tom turned to Craig. “You’re the next-in-command, aren’t you? Well, go tell your loyal citizens that their home sweet home is under new ownership. Go ahead, tell them! And while you’re at it, tell them not to try anything dumb. Remember, we’ve got Lisa!”
Craig had no choice. He turned Glenbard over to Logan without a fight. The girl who built the city was suddenly powerless—a captive, or worse.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
T
odd watched the encounter from the top of the wall. When he saw Lisa fall near the bushes, he dropped to the roof and began sobbing. While the others met Tom Logan downstairs, no one noticed the little boy crying in the darkness.
After a time, his tears dried, and he began to think. Was she really dead? How could he know for sure? He had to find out for himself. She can’t be dead, he decided, as he climbed down the rope ladder.
But when he came near her, it seemed that he was wrong. He fell upon her body in tears. “No!” he cried out loud. He couldn’t believe it. For a long time he rested his head on her chest.
He noticed something and suddenly raised his head. “She’s breathing. She’s breathing! Lisa, Lisa!” He whispered it, frightened that some enemy would hear.
“She’s okay. She’s alive!” Somehow he had to get help. He knew that the enemy was everywhere inside Glenbard and that soon they would assign roof guards. He climbed back up the wall and moved the rope ladder to a spot directly above Craig’s window. He lowered himself, slowly.
The window was locked. Craig was gone, but Erika was there, sleeping in her bed. Todd knocked on the window. As Erika turned and saw him hanging there, he put his finger to his lips. Cautiously, she came to open the window.
“What are you doing out there, Todd?”
“Don’t you know what’s happened? They’ve shot Lisa and taken over our city. Haven’t you heard?”
“Oh, no!” she cried. “I didn’t know, Todd. Is she hurt bad?”
“I think so. There’s blood all over her, but she’s still breathing.” He still didn’t know how bad Lisa was. “I can’t come inside, Erika, so you have to help me. Can you pretend that you’re sick . . . uh . . . with a stomachache?”
She didn’t understand. He continued: “Try to look real sick, and go find Jill. Get her to take you to the hospital room. Tell her your stomach hurts. And find Craig. Have him come with you and Jill. If Tom Logan thinks you’re sick, he’ll leave you alone in the hospital room. I’ll be waiting outside the window with a ladder. We have to take Lisa away, and I need help.
“Pretend like you want to throw up. Try it now so I can see.” She looked awful. “That should work,” he said. “Be careful, Erika, and hurry. Please hurry.”
Todd climbed back to the roof and walked along the rim to a point above the nurse’s room. But he wasn’t sure which window it was. Was it two windows over from the chamber tower or was it three? He couldn’t remember. I’ll have to take a chance, he thought, and climbed down.
Where are they? he wondered, looking into the spotless room. He thought about his sister. What could have gone wrong? Suddenly the door opened, and four people entered the room. Todd pulled away from the glass. He had the right room, it seemed. Logan was with them and stayed for a long time, arguing with Craig.
Todd peeked in now and then at the edge of the window. Erika looked awful, like she would actually throw up. Logan told a guard to watch the hall and then closed the door behind him.
They opened the window, and Jill whispered, “Where is she hurt? What should I bring? The stretcher? Throw it down to the ground, Craig. Can she talk? Here, take these bandages and get some alcohol . . . and . . . oh, what else will we need?”
They rounded up more supplies, just in case. “That should be enough,” Jill said. “Let’s go quickly. Erika, you’d better come with us.”
Todd was the last one down. When he shut the window, the latch fell into place, locking the window from the inside. Figure that one out, Logan, Todd said to himself. When the three of them reached the ground, they ran. Craig carried the stretcher.
“All the dogs are sleeping, Toddy!” Erika hollered.
“Shut up,” Todd said, not caring that the dogs were dead. They were quiet and maybe, because of it, Lisa could be saved. “Follow me.” He led them to her body. “You help her, Jill. I’ll get the car. Craig, you stand guard. Here’s my gun. And, Erika,” he added, “keep your mouth shut.” Erika thought he was beginning to sound like his sister.
They slid the stretcher into the back seat. Lisa didn’t move or even open her eyes, but she was still alive. Cold and silent, but alive. “How is she, Jill? Can
you fix her up?” Todd started the car.
“Where are we taking her?” Craig asked.
When he heard the words “to the old farm on Swift Road,” Craig was startled. After all this time, he thought, she’s bringing me to the farm.
The beat-up old Cadillac carried the leaders away from Glenbard. The girl who owned a city was now without a home.
The old farm was quiet and undisturbed. “Look, Jill,” said Craig. “There’s an oil heater with its own fuel tank. All we need is a match.”
The warmth—something they had learned to do without at Glenbard—would help make the operating room comfortable. Jill ran around, preparing the room and giving orders to Erika, Craig, and Todd.
Lisa was unconscious. They covered her with blankets and put her on a sofa. She stirred once and began to mumble. “What did she say?” asked Todd. Then she spoke again. “No chances, can’t take any chan—”
“I wish she hadn’t been on the ground for so long. She’s lost a lot of blood,” said Jill. They covered Lisa with more blankets while Jill studied a first-aid book.
She was very nervous about the task that lay ahead of her. At Glenbard, she had treated cuts and injuries of all kinds, but she didn’t have the faintest idea how to remove a bullet. There was nothing about it in the book. She threw it aside.
“Craig, tear this sheet into strips.”
“How wide?” he asked.
“About six inches. Todd, try to find some whiskey in the kitchen. Erika, bring me some clean sheets, all you can find. No! No! Look in the linen closet—over there.”
She would have to use the big dining-room table. “Todd and Craig, bring a mattress in here. There must be one in the bedroom . . . good . . . now go wash your hands.”
“Jill, there’s no water in the house,” said Todd.
“Well, we’ve got to have water. Go find some quick. Get at least six full pails. Hurry! Go to the lake if you have to.” Jill was getting panicky. Todd went out immediately. “Build a fire, Craig!”
Jill felt Lisa’s forehead. “She’s much cooler now than before. Where is that water? Did Todd actually drive to the lake? Maybe we could have collected rainwater.”
The Girl Who Owned a City Page 11