‘Tomorrow.’ The night shadows made her eyes larger and brighter. ‘Don’t bother me anymore tonight, or you’re going to piss me off more than you already have.’
‘I can get more cigarettes,’ Kit said.
‘I don’t care if you’ve got a carton stashed under your cot. Just get out of my face.’
‘Jessica.’ Kit backed off, but she continued speaking. ‘That’s her name.’
‘I’m not deaf. I already told you I don’t know any Jessica. Why do you care so much anyway?’
‘She’s a friend.’
‘Maybe not. Maybe she don’t want you to know where she is.’ The girl crouched on the edge of her cot, cupping her cigarette with her hand and waving the smoke away with short strokes in the air.
‘I told you, we were supposed to leave together,’ Kit said. ‘I screwed up, left too late.’
‘She’s better off without you slowing her down.’
‘You know as well as I do that two people have a better chance than one. Please tell me where I can go.’
‘Depends on what you want.’
‘Wherever she’s likely to be. Where do most kids go when they leave here?’
‘We get out.’ Kit could barely hear the words.
‘Tell me.’
‘We get out of town. It’s a no-brainer.’
‘Is that what Jessica did?’
The girl jerked on to her stomach and pulled the pale blanket over her head.
If Kit asked for more, she would get only cryptic answers or nothing. As much as she hated waiting, morning was only hours away.
The covers rustled. Kit didn’t look over.
‘That’s more like it,’ the girl whispered. ‘We’ll talk once we get some sleep. I’ll try to think about some of the girls I met in here. Maybe there was a Jessica, and I just forgot.’
As the smoke of the sneaked cigarette stung Kit’s nostrils, she thought about Richard and how finding Jessica might restore him to the man he had once been. She thought about Jessica, who had run away for reasons Kit did not yet understand. And she thought about John Paul. She wondered what he had experienced that taught him how to give her those cigarettes, the only currency next to money that mattered in the place. He had tried to protect her even though he opposed her coming here.
Every moment, she grew closer to finding Jessica, and only that possibility made getting through this night possible. That alone made her disregard the twinge of uncertainty about taking this chance. With only the night-time sounds and the unfamiliar blanket, Kit waited for morning more than sleep.
Noises drifted in and out of her head. Voices. Movement. She dreamed of coffee, bacon. Kit stirred in bed and opened her eyes just in time to see a face close to hers. The blond girl.
‘Hey.’
Kit tried to kick and realized her legs were pinned to the bed. Fully awake, she swung at her. ‘Help,’ she shouted. ‘Help me!’
‘Shut up.’ The blond girl pointed a kitchen knife at Kit’s throat. ‘If you say one word about this, you’re dead.’
Kit realized the two girls who had stood behind this one earlier now held Kit tightly in their grip. Slowly, the boot on her right foot was dragged off. And then the one on her left. John Paul had warned her about bringing in valuables. She had forgotten the boots her mother had bought for her.
Kit lifted her head to get a look at the girls removing them. The blonde’s knife pressed deeper. Her gaze didn’t waver. ‘Be glad we let you keep your feet,’ she said.
‘What the hell?’ Virgie, still in her red plaid shirt, faced them. ‘Help, somebody,’ she said. ‘She’s got a knife to this girl.’
Lights flashed on. The knife clattered beside the bed, and the out-of-focus kaleidoscope in Kit’s head faded. She pulled herself up, kicked off the covers, and lunged to her feet.
‘You OK?’ Virgie asked.
Kit touched her throat. Blood covered her finger. The cot beside her was empty, the girls nowhere to be seen. ‘That girl stole my stuff,’ Kit shouted. ‘They did. Stop them.’
‘Stop.’ The shouts of the security guard echoed back.
‘Come on,’ Virgie said. ‘You need to report it.’
Still dizzy, Kit wasn’t sure whether or not she should.
‘Come on,’ Virgie repeated. ‘The guards will anyway.’
‘Let them. I don’t want any trouble.’
‘Honey, it’s OK.’
Kit looked into the dining area. If the people who ran this place figured out who she was, she’d be back where she started. In the meantime, Jessica would get that much farther away.
‘I just need to get out of here.’
‘Not that you asked for my opinion, but you’re not cut out for this life.’ Virgie pulled a scruffy knit cap over her hair. At closer glance, Kit spotted the dark blotches that stretched like shadows under her eyes.
‘And you are?’
‘Some of us handle this shit better than others. That’s all I meant.’
‘I get that.’ Kit looked into her dark eyes. They gleamed with something she couldn’t identify. Amusement, maybe, or sadness. ‘If you hadn’t been on the next cot, I don’t know what that girl would have done to me,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. And thank you for giving me those pistachio nuts. I guess we saved each other in a way.’
‘I guess we did,’ Kit said. ‘Good luck out there, and if you run into a girl named Jessica …’ She wasn’t sure what to say next.
Virgie sighed. ‘Pretty girl, right? Stayed here for two nights? Short hair almost as black as mine except for all those dark-red streaks in it? Big eyes?’
‘That sounds like her.’ Kit said. All this trouble, and Virgie had known who Jessica was all along. ‘Why didn’t you tell me sooner?’
‘Not everyone in here has the right intentions.’ Virgie picked up her backpack. ‘You gave me your last food. It was your last, wasn’t it?’
Kit felt herself smile. ‘You were right in the first place. I’m not cut out for this.’
‘Ought to consider going back – maybe not where you came from, but to somewhere they’ll take you in.’ Virgie inhaled deeply. ‘Looks like they started the bacon frying. Come on. I’m so hungry my belly button’s pushing on my backbone.’
EIGHT
As she and Virgie went into the kitchen, Kit, wearing only her socks, realized how lucky she had been to find this young woman. Finally, she might be able to learn more about Jessica. Even with the close call, she had been right to come here.
Once they sat with their food, Virgie seemed to savor the pieces of bacon on her plate. She ate the scrambled eggs slowly. Then she swallowed some coffee and dabbed at the corners of her lips with a paper napkin in such a natural refined manner that Kit had to wonder about Virgie’s background.
‘You ain’t hungry?’ Virgie asked in a tone that didn’t match her gestures.
‘Sure I am.’ Kit faked interest in the muffin she had put on her tray. ‘Just thinking about what almost happened to me.’
‘Girl, every night out here is an almost happened. That’s why you ought to get out while you can.’
‘I will as soon as I find Jessica. I’ll go to as many shelters as I have to until I do.’
‘All right, then, if you insist.’ Virgie frowned as she studied her. ‘Here’s what you got to do. First of all, hide that hair of yours.’
‘Do you mean with a cap?’ Kit asked.
‘Vaseline first. You need to look like a guy. Wear a ball cap. Talk to yourself. Scratch yourself all over, and, most of all, act crazy.’
Even thinking about Virgie’s words made Kit’s skin itch.
‘If I do that, no one will talk to me.’
‘Not right off maybe, but you’ll stand a better chance of not getting raped or killed. You still want to go looking for your friend?’
‘I don’t have any choice,’ Kit said.
‘Here’s something else, then. When you’re a runaway, everyone wants to get you
into their system. A runaway don’t want to be in no one’s system, though. That’s why we’re out here.’
That was what Jessica had to deal with, whether on the streets or in the marginal safety of a shelter. Although she had never met the girl, Kit understood her more than ever after just one night in this place.
‘Do you have any idea where Jessica went?’ she asked.
Virgie shook her head. ‘Sometimes you just have to take care of your own self. You, for instance. You ain’t got any money, yet you gave me something you could have sold. Stupid, right?’
‘What about what you did for me?’ Kit asked.
‘That was a thank you, and so is what I’m telling you right now, and that is this. When you go on the streets and ask for loose change, there’s a way to do that.’
‘I’d never beg,’ Kit said, before she thought better of it.
‘Don’t be so sure, Miss High and Mighty.’ Virgie looked at her with a mixture of pity and contempt. ‘When you get out there, here’s how you do it. You go up very polite and all. You say, “Pardon me, ma’am. Would you have any spare change?”’
‘And if they tell you to get lost?’ Kit asked.
‘You’re already are lost, so that don’t bother you. Just go to the next person and say the same thing till someone bites. And then – and this is real important. Then say, “Thank you, ma’am. Bless you.” I don’t care what their faith is or isn’t, but they all like that “bless you” part.’
‘Man coming through,’ someone called out.
Kit looked toward the commotion and spotted John Paul heading toward them in jeans and a black jacket.
‘Looks like you’re covered,’ Virgie said. ‘I’ll be going now.’
‘No, wait,’ Kit said, but Virgie was already heading out the same door that John Paul had just walked in.
He came closer, and Kit noticed that the women were deserting the table as if a cop, even a former cop, carried an odor that everyone could smell.
‘Come on.’ John Paul towered over her, and she tried to figure out what she had done to anger him. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Once they were on the sidewalk, he took a closer look at her. ‘What happened to you, Doyle? Where are your shoes?’
‘I screwed up. The girl next to me asked for a cigarette. I felt sorry for her.’
He touched her cheek as if it might burn him. ‘Did she hurt you?’
‘When I woke up, she had a knife to my throat, and her friends were taking off my boots. I feel like a fool.’ Inside the socks, her feet felt numb on the cold sidewalk.
‘Don’t worry about it. I have a lead.’ His eyes gleamed.
‘What kind of lead?’ She felt as if she were negotiating with the cold, letting it take just enough of her to make its presence known, but not enough to slow her. A police car crawled slowly by, black and white in a world of neutrals.
‘We probably look like hustlers,’ Kit said.
‘Be glad they’re patrolling.’
‘I am. So what’s your lead?’
He walked with her to the corner and watched the car disappear into the fog. ‘I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but I hadn’t counted on you being attacked your first night.’
‘Please tell me you aren’t using that as an excuse to back out,’ she said.
A guy on a bicycle pedaled slowly in their direction, his features hidden by the hood of his bulging jacket. Something about the way the streetlight hit made him appear enormous. Kit shoved her hand in her pocket and clutched her keychain.
‘I’ve got my pepper spray,’ she whispered.
‘And what do you suppose he has? Don’t make eye contact.’
The bike swerved down a driveway into the street and passed them. Kit’s heartbeat quickened anyway as if her brain hadn’t sent the message of safety to the rest of her. They reached the street corner. As she started to cross, John Paul pulled her back. ‘Wait a minute.’
Kit breathed in the street air. It felt as overcast and as dark gray and indifferent as their surroundings. She would answer his question once she had a chance to figure it out, but not now. Not with every shadow on their path reminding her of the guy on the bike, the girl with the knife, or worse.
‘Come on.’ He motioned to his truck. ‘Let’s get you some shoes.’
‘Thanks.’ The only feelings in her feet were little needles of pain. ‘You warned me about valuables. I just didn’t think it through. At least I found one girl who had seen Jessica. I just don’t where to go next.’
‘After what happened last night? Nowhere.’ She started to protest, but as he pulled out of the parking lot on to the street, he said, ‘The shelters are just the starting place, Doyle. The kids team up after that. Or they don’t.’
‘Because they don’t want to be in the system, right? I already learned that. They didn’t run away just to be sent back.’
‘Exactly. And most shelters, however well meaning, are conduits to one or more systems.’
‘Doesn’t sound that bad compared with what could happen.’ Feeling began to return to her feet, and she tried to squeeze away the pain. ‘You weren’t supposed to come back early this morning, John Paul. What happened?’
‘Some runaway kids were talking about a Mexican restaurant several hours from here.’
‘What?’ Kit asked him. ‘They live at a Mexican restaurant?’
‘I don’t think so, but the two guys I talked to had heard of it. They didn’t sound as if they were going there, though. More likely, it’s another conduit – one outside the system.’
‘Cheese enchiladas.’ Kit pulled her jacket closer, even though the chill had come from inside. ‘Remember the stuff on Jessica’s computer? I’m going to find that restaurant.’
‘Not alone,’ he said.
‘Richard will help me.’
John Paul’s hands seemed to tighten on the wheel. ‘The man’s not equipped to help you. Don’t involve him in this. I’ll do what I can as long as it doesn’t interfere with law enforcement.’
This wasn’t the time to decide if she would involve Richard or John Paul to find the restaurant. Or neither of them, for that matter. At the moment, she would have promised him anything. ‘I’m just not sure where we’re going.’
‘Neither am I,’ he said. ‘But here’s the deal. Someone meeting Jessica’s description was spotted hitchhiking near Fowler.’
‘Fowler?’ she asked.
‘You never know.’ He gave her a look she couldn’t figure out. ‘It’s a small town. At least, there can’t be that many restaurants there.’
NINE
When John Paul dropped her off at her house, he had said he would pick her up Monday after they got off the air. But when she shared her plan with Richard late Sunday afternoon, he insisted they drive to Fowler right then.
‘It won’t harm his efforts,’ Richard said. ‘Besides, we might get lucky and find her right away.’ The hope in his expression was enough to convince Kit.
As they drove down Highway 99, Kit savored the stream of air that warmed her feet in Richard’s car. Except for the gaudy neon sign along the highway, the tiny agricultural town between Sacramento and Bakersfield was one she had barely noticed in the past. The sign, which was in the shape of a hand, advertised the local palm reader who had been telling fortunes there longer than Kit had been alive. According to their research, the town had fewer than a dozen restaurants that were not fast food. They could go through all of them that evening.
She had spoken to her mother that morning and had lied when her mom asked if she was all right. As always when they ended the call, Kit had to fight tears. This woman, both innocent and wise, both amusing and serious, could have been hidden from her forever. Had it not been for Kit’s persistence and a great deal of luck, they would have lived separate lives, unable to know what they had lost. Many conversations lay ahead for them, more confessions and disagreements even. But now Kit had what she had always needed, and realizing what she had after all these
years, she didn’t fear much else – certainly not a road trip a few hours away.
Tule fog, indigenous to this place and this time of year, had risen and clung like translucent ghosts. It reminded her of frosted glass that let only the light pass through and distorted the forms beyond. Richard turned on an NPR station, which had been their background music.
‘I used to drive this highway with my dad when I was a kid and he worked in LA radio,’ she said. ‘It brings back memories.’
Richard glanced over at her.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘Want to discuss the elephant in the car?’
‘What elephant?’ she said. ‘Stop trying to be the therapist, will you? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Your insistence to go into these places alone.’
‘I’ve got my phone,’ she said. ‘It will be all right.’
‘Even though Jessica was seen near there? Kit, you don’t know what you’re walking into.’
‘After what we’ve just been through, I’m not worried.’
A Mexican restaurant just before the city limits sat off from the freeway. ‘Richard, look.’
‘We won’t get anywhere here,’ he told her. ‘It’s too obvious, too close to the mainstream.’
‘If you were a runaway, wouldn’t you want something like this?’ she said.
‘This close to the freeway, it’s the first place people would search for you.’
‘Not if they didn’t know what they were searching for. And not if they had no idea the kids they were trying to find had headed this way.’
‘All right, then. Let’s look at the other restaurants first.’
She entered and left two cafes, both Spanish-speaking only, and, after them, something calling itself a Mexican delicatessen. ‘Let’s go back to the first one,’ she said.
Richard agreed. As they pulled into the drive, the restaurant came into view, even smaller than it had appeared from the highway. She wished the two of them could walk into that sorry-looking place together, arms locked against the world, but once they did, they would be viewed as a pair, and she would appear less vulnerable.
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