Chapter 1(Emily)
Thirteen-year-old Emily’s
backpack was stuffed full of her essential belongings. She also had forty dollars of
babysitting money hidden in her shoe, the iPhone her mom gave her on her last
birthday in her pocket, and the phone number of an aunt she’d never met at the
top of her contact list.
She turned out the light and watched Roger and her mom in
the living room from the open slit of her bedroom door. A look of euphoria
crossed her mom’s face after she inhaled the second time from the pipe Roger
passed her.
Stepping back from
the door, Emily closed it quietly and punched in the lock, knowing what would
happen next. When they were high on meth, they thought up ways to get more
money to buy more drugs. She hoped they would forget she was there, but knew their
plans usually involved her, and that’s what scared her. She got into bed, fully
clothed, and slipped in one ear bud from her iPod.
Roger had moved in with them two months ago, after hitting
it off with her mom at Nancy’s Cafe in Portland, Oregon where she worked.
He left her big tips for about a week, and then they started seeing each other
whenever she was off work. Roger said he was an accountant, but Emily had never
seen him go to work.
The way Roger looked at her creeped her out. When he touched
her arm or shoulder in passing, she felt her skin crawl. She couldn’t
understand what her mom saw in him. If he tried anything, she had her backpack
ready and she was prepared to run.
Emily’s hands balled into fists. She and her mom had been
doing great, just the two of them, before he showed up and introduced her mom to
meth. They had a solid Mom-and-Daughter relationship. Emily trusted her mom’s decisions—well, most
of them anyway. But now, when they were high, she didn’t recognize her.
She’d been able to avoid their small apartment when they
were using by staying late at school or sometimes walking through the large
department stores downtown—anywhere else but with them. She didn’t trust Roger.
Emily heard them
in her mom’s bedroom down the hallway next to hers. When their bed started
banging against the wall, she slipped the other ear bud in, letting the music
soothe her to sleep.
“Honey? Emily?” Her mom called, knocking on the door. “Get
up, we’re going out.”
Emily came awake and looked at the glowing numbers on her
clock radio. Eleven-thirty. She sighed and finally got out of bed. It was no
use—her mom would keep knocking until she answered the door. Yesterday, Friday,
had been the last day of school for the year. She hoped they wouldn’t stay out
all night—her mom had to work in the morning.
Emily grabbed her backpack, walked through the living room
stepping over empty fast-food containers and dirty socks, and followed them
out the front door. “Can we get something to eat? I didn’t get dinner.”
“Maybe later. We’re
meeting a guy at Walmart.” Her mom pulled forward the front passenger seat of
Roger’s red Toyota Camry so Emily could get into the back. Her mom’s brunette,
shoulder-length hair looked as messy as her makeup. The pain in the back of
Emily’s throat intensified as she stared at her usually perfect mom.
“Plus we’ve got some shopping to do,” Roger added, nodding
his head.
Emily watched his whole body vibrate with jerky movements as
he tried to insert the key in the ignition. When he backed out of the parking
lot without looking behind him, she grabbed a hold of her seatbelt strap, closed
her eyes, and prayed they wouldn’t crash into anything.
They pulled into the Walmart parking lot. “There’s the car—the
green one in the last row.” Roger parked next to it leaving the car running. He
pulled out his wallet and handed her mom some cash. “That’s all I got. You have
to cover the rest.”
Emily watched her mom approach the driver’s side of the
green car. The window slid open a few inches and fingers reached out for the
money. After it was passed through, a small bag appeared. Her mom stuffed it in her purse and got back
into the car.
“Quick and easy,” Roger said. “Now give it to me.”
He drove to the farthest row in the back of parking lot next
to a grouping of large shrubs and scrub trees. When they got out of the car, he
grabbed Emily’s backpack. “You’ll keep this safe for us.” He stuffed the small bag into one of the
zippered pockets.
Emily’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened with shock. “I
don’t want anything to do with this.” She swung away from him, grabbed her
backpack, and opened the zipper where he’d put the baggie.
"Do as he says,” her mom said,
dismissing her panic. “I’ll take it out when we get home. You keep it safe for
me."
Roger
gripped her mom’s arm. “Follow me and when I hand you something, slip it into
your purse. Emily, you stay close and try to block the view. We’ll make some
easy money tonight.”
“Lame, Mom. Shoplifting?” Anger coursed
through her body causing her face to flush. “Just for more of that stupid
drug?”
“Roger and I planned this one out.” Her bright red lipstick flashed,
garish in the parking lot light. “Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doin’.”
Emily sighed. It was no use; her mom no longer listened to
her. She knew there were cameras in Walmart’s entrance, so she pulled the black
sweatshirt hood up over her shoulder-length red hair before walking through the
door.
“I’ll grab a cart and we can load it up with stuff—make it
look like we’re shopping. When we’re ready to go Emily’ll take it to a back
aisle, leave it and meet us back at the car.” Roger’s forehead shone with
sweat, his armpits were soaked, and he gave off an odor of ripe cat
pee.
Emily’s stomach churned as she followed them, her footsteps
dragging. She didn’t know what else to do. She saw her mom slip a watch into
her bag while Roger sorted through DVD’s on a sale table next to it. He tossed
several in the cart and motioned them to move forward.
After half an hour, Roger nodded at Emily. “Take the cart
over by the toys and leave it. Go out the other door. We’ll wait a minute and
walk out the main entrance. Meet you at the car.”
Emily did as she was told, and a few minutes later hurried out
of the store. She ran to the car and tugged at the door, but it was locked. She
pulled on it again but it wouldn’t budge. Her eyes darted around the too-dark
area of the parking lot, sucking in a quick breath when a car backfired in the
distance. Seconds later, she heard the alarm go off at the main entrance, and
saw Roger and her mom running toward the car with two security guards in close
pursuit.
Panic seized her. She dove behind the bushes in front of the
car and crouched down. The security guards grabbed both of them and they argued
briefly before Roger wrestled free and took off running. One guard gave chase,
but soon gave up. Emily watched in shock as they handcuffed her mom and escorted
her back into the store.
Sinking down on weak knees, she tried to calm her racing
heart. She stayed hidden in the bushes until two Portland police cars turned into
the parking lot and stopped at the entrance, lights flashing.
“I’m so outta here,” she said under her breath. She had no
idea what would happen to her mom. After the policemen entered the store, Emily
jogged to the street and started walk-running toward home. Surely they’d take
her mom there. She didn’t know what Roger would do now; she hoped he’d stay
away. She reached in to her pocket and pulled out her phone. Her heart sank
when she saw that the battery was dead. She was on her own.
The two-mile walk home in the dark after Portland curfew
wasn’t something she was looking forward to, but she kept to the side streets
and hoped not to attract the attention of anyone else out at this hour. She
shivered as the wind picked up and stopped in front of a house with open blinds
to zip up her sweatshirt. Through the living room window she could see a young couple
cuddled together on their recliner couch watching TV. Her stomach growled in
protest when she saw the half-eaten pizza sitting on the dining room table.
An hour later, Emily turned down the street to her apartment,
but stepped back into the shadows when she saw the police car parked outside
her unit. She watched for a moment, wondering if the police might have brought her
mom home. But the lights were out in the apartment and a female officer stood
outside. Maybe they were looking for her—just like they did three years ago.
She ended up in a foster home then. It had been the worst experience of her
life.
Emily’s eyes teared and her chin trembled. Her hands sought
the key to their storage unit hanging with her apartment key on a chain around
her neck. She always stored her bicycle in their unit behind the apartment. She
crept along the side of the building, stopped at the corner, and glanced around
for anyone else outside. Alone, tired, and hungry, she just wanted a safe place
to hide for the night.
Emily unlocked the padlock and opened the door quietly.
Their storage unit was one of the smallest and cheapest available—eight feet
square with an oversized man-door. She closed the door behind her and pulled on
the string attached to the single, bare light bulb. It lit up the small space; between
their stacked storage boxes and her bicycle, there wasn’t much room left. There
was no way to lock it from the inside, but it would have to do for the night.
Emily removed her backpack, leaned her bicycle up against
the door, and re-stacked the boxes to make a place to lie down. She pulled an
old comforter out of one of the boxes and wrapped herself in it. She buried her
nose in its softness and breathed in deeply, smelling her mom’s signature scent.
She grabbed the water bottle from the holder on her bicycle and shook it. It
sloshed. Relieved she gulped the lukewarm, stale water left from her last ride.
Tomorrow morning she’d make sure the police car was gone and
hope that Roger wasn’t there so she could sneak in to get their address book. She
wouldn’t call her Aunt Sarah. If she just showed up at her house she’d have to
let her stay. She tried to ignore the emptiness in her stomach as she pulled
the string, plunging the small space into darkness.
