The woman stepped into their home and set to work. She hustled Jubie into clean clothes and filled an ice bag for Summer’s forehead, which was swelling. Sum and Early stuffed grocery bags with clothes and the only book left — oddly, it was The First Book of Rhythms. It had slipped beneath a newspaper under the broken coffee table.
With every step, they slid and crunched on cereal, torn magazines, smashed dishes, slashed family photographs, unused garbage bags, supplies like screwdrivers, a broom, and a mop. Even the out-of-date encyclopedias that Dashel had turned into tables were gone. One lamp with a bulb still burning lay on its side, and Summer pulled off the crumpled shade. She held the light high so that they could get one last look. Anyone watching would have seen a woman standing like the Statue of Liberty, but without the crown, the gown, or the hope — a woman without.
“Our notebooks,” Early wailed, pawing through the piles underfoot. “They took the quote and word ones! Even mine!”
“Thieves,” Summer said. “They got Dash’s envelope of cash and also my wallet. Every last penny! I just can’t believe they took all that, on top of destroying our home.”
She stamped her foot halfheartedly, then grabbed her head. “Ohhh, ow,” she said, tears creeping into her voice. “Yeouch.”
She turned toward the old woman. “You’ve been so good to us. But how do we find a shelter and get there without any money? I’ve never even been inside one.”
“Dial 311 from a police precinct,” the woman replied, her voice kind. “My, you did have you a good man, not to know that number! Shuffle along now, come quickly. Turn out that light, and turn yo’ backs on the mess. My grandson down the street will drive you where you need to go.”
Early could see Sum looking at the broken door. There was no way of putting it back on. The only way to fix it — to fix the whole apartment — would be to hire someone, and she knew that was impossible without money. They had to go. There was no living in an apartment without a door.
“Hurry, girl!” the old woman said. “You gotta git.”
Jubie’s box of animal crackers had survived, and he put his blue truck carefully inside it and closed the top. Early checked to be sure she had Langston’s Rhythms. Summer clicked off the lamp she’d been holding, set it down gently, and gave one last look around their home; it had become a spooky landscape of destruction, a true field of broken dreams beneath the familiar streetlight that had always lit their sleep. How could that light still shine, calm and bright, when their world was gone? The wind outside had picked up, and snow peppered with ice hit the window with a shushhh-tick-tshhhh.
“Not did, do,” she said softly. “I do have a good man. And if my husband comes looking for us, can you tell him where we’ve gone?”
By then the old woman was shooing them out, practically pushing them past their broken front door and down the hall to her tiny apartment. Busy dialing numbers, she didn’t reply.
“They can’t stay in Woodlawn,” Early heard her say. “Just get them to a place where they can rest safe tonight.”
Early’s eyes lingered on everything familiar — the splintery stair rail, a wall stain shaped like a cat, the bulbs hanging from chains overhead — as they left the building. Sum held Jubie’s hand, as well as Early’s, the bags bumping between them.
A place to rest safe … Early had never imagined her family losing their home and fleeing into a night of unknowns, and all without Dash. The front door opened on a wall of cold.
Maybe this icy wind will help, Early thought to herself, at least by numbing the shock and pain. Ice on a wound. Ice.
Cling, from the Old English clingan
Verb: to hold fast; hold on; stick together; resist
change.
Cling
From the backseat of the grandson’s car, the three Pearls watched their neighborhood swirl away. A blanket of snow was now falling and the night was the darkest night they’d ever seen. Black was black, and white, white; there wasn’t much in between until they reached the welcoming traffic of Lake Shore Drive.
Peering out the window, Early thought about how lucky the other people in their cars must be: people who knew where their fathers were, people with homes to go to, people who talked and laughed as they drove, people who weren’t scared for their lives. Jubie was chewing a cracker when he suddenly wriggled and began to cry.
“We’re leaving Dash behind!” he wailed. “He’ll be lost!”
Summer hugged her kids, one on each side, and took a moment to reply. “Dash will find us. You know he will. And tonight we’re going to someplace warm, where we can sleep. And you two are the bravest kids in the world. Make your Dash proud now, by being strong.”
After Summer had stopped speaking, a tear rolled down one cheek. Then another, landing on Early’s hand when Sum leaned forward to peer out the window.
“We’re together, Sum,” Early reminded her mother. Comforting her mom felt oddly easier than soothing herself, and it felt needed. “Dash would tell us to hold fast.”
Summer nodded her head and closed her eyes. “Hold fast,” she repeated slowly, as if saying a prayer. “To dreams. Dreams.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence.
Cling
“Good Lord,” Sum said, her arms tightening around the children.
The grandson had pulled up in front of a huge police station on the North Side. Right in front of them, officers opened the back of a van on a group of angry men and women. Soon half-dressed people in handcuffs were being dragged across the snow. A woman screamed. One of the officers punched a man who tried to kick him.
“Don’t want to go there!” Jubie wailed.
Sum leaned forward to speak with her neighbor’s grandson. “You’ve been so kind, but … is there another police station you’d be willing to take us to? This looks like a bad situation, and I hate to bring the children inside here.”
The grandson nodded. “I don’t blame you. There’s a big family shelter nearby. You might not have to go through the police at all, not on a night like this.”
“Your grandma told me that we had to call for help from a police station, though,” Sum said, her voice thick with worry.
The grandson shrugged. “Maybe not. Let’s give it a try.”
Minutes later, Summer stepped out of the car in front of the entrance to an old three-story building on the North Side of the city. On the block before, they’d passed a figure wrapped head to toe in blankets and a sleeping bag, sitting motionless inside a doorway; another plodded forward in a giant coat that dragged behind, pushing a baby stroller heaped high with garbage bags. She hoped the kids hadn’t seen. The temperature was a kind twenty-two degrees, kind in comparison to the many sub-zero nights they’d had in past weeks, but the storm was now gusting. Gusting and gnawing.
“Well, thanks so much for your generous help,” Summer said to the young driver, once the three Pearls were standing on the curb, hats and gloves on and jackets zipped to the chin.
“Glad to be of help. Good luck,” he said, and drove away quickly, as if eager not to linger in the area. Looking around, Summer couldn’t blame him. This was one spooky place, all shadows and peeling paint.
“Well, come on, kids. Let’s get out of the cold,” Sum said. She and Early picked up the bags, grabbed Jubie on either side, and stepped into the entrance. Summer pulled on the door. It was locked. Then she knocked. And knocked again. There was a light inside and someone sat at a small desk.
That someone, a young man, mouthed, “Not open,” and shook his head. “Curfew at eight,” he mouthed. It was 8:08.
Summer threw her arms up. “Got kids! No money!” she shouted.
The young man shook his head again.
“Cold out here! Let us in!”
No response. Now Jubie was pounding on the door. Summer picked him up so the young man could see. “We need shelter!” Sum shouted.
The young man held up one finger and then waved a phone receiver. He gave Summer an open palm
. “I sure hope that means five minutes!” she said. “Meanwhile, we’re going to stay right here, where he can see us freezing and feel bad! Dang, we should never have gotten out of that car.”
The three huddled together. “Let’s sing something and jump around,” Early said. “Like row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream!”
“Good idea.” Sum’s voice was half moan. “But I can’t do it with my sore head and we’re definitely not merry. How about you kids pretend to be jumping rope and I’ll turn?”
Early nodded, chanting, “One, two, buckle my shoe! Three, four, shut the door! Five, six, pick up sticks! Seven, eight, lay them straight! —”
Sum spun an imaginary rope while the two kids jumped up and down, their heads bobbing in front of the shelter door. Soon a car pulled around the corner — a police car. The three stopped.
As the policeman walked toward them, taking his time, Early heard Dashel’s voice in her head, clear as clear could be: You my girl, Early. You my girl.
But what should we do? Where are you? she asked back silently, trying to send the message as hard as she could.
There was no reply. The officer said loudly, “This city shelter locks for the night at eight o’clock, ma’am. You can stay in the precinct waiting room, or I can take you to Union Station. That’s open and there’s vending machines.”
Summer didn’t move. If the policeman was surprised to see her bruised forehead, he didn’t show it. “We don’t have any money,” Sum said. “My husband has disappeared and we were robbed tonight and our home, wrecked. I understand I have to call DSFF —”
“Yes, ma’am, DFSS,” the policeman said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if Summer were making small talk about the weather. “The Department of Family and Support Services. I’ll take you to the closest precinct, and they’ll get you three connected to a shelter by morning.”
In the back of the patrol car, looking out through wire mesh, Jubie said, “Does this mean we’re criminals now?”
“Of course not, baby,” Summer said. “It just means we’re in hard times, but we’ll be getting some help.”
“And Dash will find us,” Jubie added.
“Dash will find us,” Summer repeated.
“Or we’ll find him,” Early said. Summer squeezed her hand.
Cling
The police station was as blindingly bright as the night outside was dark. The policeman took them over to a long wooden bench and said, “This is it. Tuck your bags under your feet. For the washroom, ask at the desk and someone will take you. Over on the side, that’s the phone, and here’s the DFSS number. They’ll send a van to pick you up as soon as possible.”
“But, sir, I have something to report,” Summer began.
“In the morning,” the policeman said, walking back to his desk.
“Doesn’t crime matter at night?” Sum asked, her voice getting stronger. Early was glad; it seemed like talking back was sometimes helpful.
The cop glanced at Summer as if she were a badly behaved child and then ignored her, focusing instead on paperwork. She continued speaking, her voice loud and clear, telling the officer what had occurred over the last ten days. She ended by saying, “Something terrible has happened to keep my husband away, we’re terrified, have had to leave our home, have been robbed, lost our savings, and our family has done nothing wrong. Now, aren’t the police supposed to protect people like us?”
Early noticed that Sum hadn’t specifically mentioned finding and then losing the strange envelope with the money in it.
The cop looked up. “Ma’am, we’re only staffed for emergencies at night. You can speak with another officer in the morning. Better make that call now.”
Before Summer could say another thing, the doors to the precinct burst open, and a man came staggering inside, using language so ugly that Summer covered Jubie’s ears with her hands and told Early to do the same. Early could hear anyway. The man was spitting at everyone close by and then vomited, right on the policeman’s shoe. He was shoved roughly against a wall, and they heard the thunk of his head on wood paneling.
Right after, the doors burst open again and a group of teenagers came in, all handcuffed, off balance, and loud. “Drunk,” Summer whispered to Early. One had cuts and scrapes all over. Another had blood and drool coming out of the side of his mouth.
No one official seemed to be too concerned. It was almost, Early thought, as if you weren’t 100 percent human when you came into the police station on the wrong side of the front desk. If you were upset, it was unreasonable. If you had a question, it could wait. Just the fact that you were there seemed like a strike against you. Right then Early made herself a promise: She wouldn’t be helpless, not ever, not if she could see a way out. She wouldn’t allow that to happen. She could see that being helpless in a situation like this was dangerously close to becoming just plain less.
Some of the police were polite but no one was sympathetic. She knew the officers were saving lives, doing hard and scary work, and sometimes even dying themselves. She knew people who broke the law deserved to be locked up. But she still felt it was true: Being helpless could lead to even less help. She thought about Alice falling down the rabbit hole in Alice in Wonderland. She’d asked for help over and over, but none of the replies got her back to where she’d started.
As soon as the station quieted down, Sum made her call. She was on the phone for a while. By the time she returned to the bench, Jubie was fast asleep, his head on Early’s lap.
Sum sat down. “Now we wait. They’ll take us to a twenty-four-hour emergency shelter when they can locate one with space and when the DFSS van is free to pick us up. From there —” Sum stopped talking and swallowed. Early looked at her. Sum swallowed again, and wiped angrily at her cheek. “From there, who knows,” she said.
Early nodded. Sum reached out and held her hand.
Cling
Dawn brought a cup of milk for the kids, coffee for Summer, and time with a kind policewoman. The three Pearls were tired, but glad to be off the wooden bench and sitting in chairs.
They were told that the police would go to the apartment to investigate. The officer asked if they’d be returning to Woodlawn, and when Sum said she didn’t see how they could, the officer nodded.
“So you’re waiting for the van,” she said. “The city shelters are overflowing. You’ll be lucky to find any sort of temporary housing at all.” Sum, the officer promised, would get “further guidance” once they were in a “facility.”
“But,” Sum asked, “couldn’t you help me with putting some pressure on the public library folks to see what’s happened to my husband?”
“What’s your cell phone number?” the policewoman asked.
Summer’s face fell. “My phone was destroyed by one of the men last night. The same ones who wrecked our apartment and stole my wallet. Could you reach me at the shelter? Or is there any police emergency fund I could have so that I can get a phone and get to work on all this? I’ll pay you back — I promise I’m good for it!”
The policewoman looked as though Summer had asked for a manicure. “I’m afraid there’s no such fund,” she said, pursing her lips. “They’ll help you apply for TANF assistance once you’re at a shelter, ma’am.” When Sum looked puzzled, she added, “Temporary Assistance for Needy Families. You’ll qualify with two young children.” She stood, making it clear that all aid had been given.
Sum nodded, her lower lip trembling. “My husband will be back soon,” she said.
“I’m sure,” the officer said. “Call when you get settled, and give us a number. Perhaps someone at the station here can keep you informed.”
When the van finally arrived, the driver stepped inside and barked, “Pearl? Anyone here by the name of Pearl?”
Silent with exhaustion, Sum, Early, and Jubie groped for their bags and left. As luck would have it, they were on their way back to Helping Hand, where they’d been the night be
fore. The three looked out at a graceless, gray morning. Fresh snow had drifted across parked cars and sidewalks, but nothing twinkled. As the van pulled up outside the entrance and the Pearls climbed out, a group of smokers parted to let them through.
“Morning, dear! Hi, kids,” one older man said, smiling broadly. He was missing teeth and had a winter jacket mended with duct tape. “Things aren’t so bad, now! Think there’s pancakes this morning — get yourself a plateful.” He reached for the door and pulled it open. Early noticed his knuckles were covered with scars and fresh scabs.
“Thank you,” Summer said. “You’re very kind.” She gave him a half smile. “We’ve had a bad night.”
The man threw back his head and laughed. He glanced around, and several others smiled, too. “Hold it at one, beautiful, and you’ll conquer the world!” he said.
As the door closed behind them, Early heard him saying, “Sad when you first see ’em. They don’t know …”
If Summer heard, she didn’t let on.
They were inside a large room that looked like an old garage. A line of families waited for a turn at a kitchen window, where each was given a heaping plate and a glass of juice. At least fifty people sat on benches, eating over long plastic-covered tables. There were one or two fathers with young kids; the rest of the adults were women. Lots carried babies on one hip, with toddlers holding on to a sleeve or leg. One woman had two kids tied with leashes to her belt, a baby in pajamas under her arm.
“I’m hungry,” Jubie said. “Can we eat?”
“Just a moment, son,” Sum said. She filled out a form at the front desk, and was told that the director would be speaking with her after breakfast. She was handed three meal vouchers.
Hold Fast (9780545510196) Page 5
