Back on the Map

by Lisa Ann Scott

  I slid the map from the container and smoothed it out on my bed. It’d be so nice to see New Hope listed there.

  I paused for a moment. It can still be listed there, I thought. It should be. I grabbed my pen and picked a spot between Asheville and Winston-Salem. I colored in a big dot and wrote New Hope right next to it. They were the two prettiest words I’d ever seen. My heart filled, seeing our town finally listed there, even if it was only me who put it there. I am the girl who put her town back on the map.

  I went into the living room, where Mrs. Carlson was reading the newspaper. “Good morning.” She flashed me her reach-to-the-heavens smile.

  “It is a good morning. And I have a big favor to ask.” Couldn’t believe I was asking for something else! “Can I hang my map up in my room?”

  “Of course. Mr. Carlson can help you with that. We can get a nice frame for it. We’ll have to repaint in there, too, and get you a new quilt and decorations. You can pick out whatever you’d like.”

  My throat was too thick to say anything. That was way more than I could have ever hoped for. “I’m going to go pick out the perfect spot.”

  I ran back to my room and turned around and around, taking it all in—the two big windows that let in just the right amount of light. The pretty little table next to the bed. This is my room. This is my home.

  I was sitting on the bed, smiling, when I noticed a scrap of paper on the floor next to it. Cautiously, I picked it up and unfolded it. It was from Charter Maps. I guess it must’ve been inside the tube with the map. My heart started pounding.

  Dear Penny,

  It sounds like you’re doing amazing things in New Hope! We’ve actually gotten a few calls from people wondering why your town isn’t on the map. If we keep getting more calls like that, I’m sure New Hope will be included in our next edition. Keep up the good work!

  Sincerely,

  Sheila Blakeley

  Secretary to CEO David Charter

  I looked up at the ceiling and closed my eyes. I pictured that bright slice in the sky from a few weeks ago. Guess my wish really had wiggled its way through to the place where amazing things happen. “I did it. I really did it.”

  I hurried out to the living room and took the note to show Mrs. Carlson.

  She read it and hugged me. “That’s wonderful, Penny!” She stepped back and stared at me, lowering her voice to an awed hush. “I can’t wait to see all the other amazing things you do.”

  I beamed, just imagining the wonderful life waiting for me.

  Parker wandered out of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes.

  “Guess what?” I said. “We’re probably getting back on the map next time they print a new one.”

  “You did it!” he cried. “Just like you said you would.”

  “We did it. We all did it,” I said.

  I looked down, and my hands were glowing. My color was brighter than ever before.

  After breakfast, the four of us walked down to the Finest, just to look around. It felt nice being there, especially being there together.

  A tour bus was parked along Main Street, and people were wandering up to New Hope’s Finest.

  “I can’t believe people are still stopping for a look,” I said.

  “I want to take another walk around. Seems like I notice something different each time I’m here,” my new mom said.

  Mom. Mom. Mom. The word pulsed in my heart.

  When we got to the gate, Miss Meriwether was there, telling a group of old folks about the best dishes to order at the diner.

  “This is a remarkable place,” said a man walking out the gate.

  “None of it would’ve happened without our Penny,” Mom said, settling her hands on my shoulders. “It was her idea to turn this old eyesore into something new and bring life back to the town. There was no hope here for a long while. But she brought it back.” She beamed down at me. “She is our hope.”

  Those were just about the kindest words I’d ever heard.

  The man looked at me and put his hands on his hips. “You’re Penny?”

  I nodded.

  “You did all this?”

  “I had some help.” From everyone in town. From the great people on my family tree.

  “But Penny started everything. Without her, this never would’ve happened,” Mom said.

  The man smiled at me. “Guess you’re a lucky penny.”

  “I’m not lucky,” I said, without thinking. But then I clamped my mouth shut. Maybe that was changing now.

  “I meant you’re the town’s lucky penny,” he said. “They’re lucky to have you.”

  I blinked a few times, ’cause tears were pricking the back of my eyes. “Come on, let’s go look at it all.” I raced for the tree house, with Parker and Mr. and Mrs. Carlson following me. My mom and dad.

  Forgetting my crooked teeth, I smiled wide, like I’d never smiled before. I turned around and saw all the folks from my family tree standing behind me in the yard, waving at me.

  “We’ll be here whenever you need us,” Sacagawea said.

  Miss Ida nodded. “But it looks like you’re in good hands for now.”

  I waved to them, then turned to look up at the tree house before climbing the stairs. For just a second, I thought I saw a flash of copper-colored hair and a splotch of freckles.

  My whole family was finally here together in New Hope.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I am so very grateful to the many people who helped bring this book to life. To my agent, Jennifer Unter, thanks for finding it a wonderful home. To my editor, Rachel Stark, your amazing feedback helped turn this story into something even more special. Thank you so much to Abby Stroman, and Ella and Sara Manurung for your perspective on growing up mixed-race. Jennifer Galyon answered a lot of questions about growing up in a small town in North Carolina in the early 1980s. Thank you! Anne Siconolfi from Hillside Children’s Center gave me helpful information on the foster care system.

  And sadly, as I wrote this book, I experienced a firsthand account of dementia, as my mother’s memory slips away, very much like Grauntie’s. It’s been devastating to watch her go from forgetting her purse to forgetting who I am. I’m heartsick that my mother will never be able to read this book, will never be able to tell me she loves me again. If only I had a letter from my mom like Penny does, telling me how to go on without her. Thank you for being a great mother, and for making me believe I could do anything.