In the middle of the night, someone ran a wet hand across Early’s bare foot, which was hanging over the edge of her bunk. She shrieked, and then heard a patter-patter of running feet. Sum banged her sore head when she popped upright to see what was the matter. The Pearls ended up that night in a single bed, barely sleeping until early morning.
Their cozy one-room rental in Woodlawn now seemed luxurious. Privacy! The freedom of choosing what and when to eat, of knowing that when you closed your eyes at night, you were safe from strangers! The freedom of a cell phone and a job! The peace of mind that comes from being with the people you love most in the world.
Each in their own way, the three Pearls mourned. They’d give anything to undo the mysterious moment that had stolen Dash on that icy, dark January afternoon. Anything.
Each tried to be brave for the other two, even Jubie, hiding their longing as they traipsed up and down the stairs and waited in line for their food. It was odd how quickly each Pearl learned that wishing aloud made everything worse. Survival was a matter of adapting, of learning how to hide in plain sight.
As she dressed that first morning inside one of the toilet stalls, hopping into jeans and a sweatshirt, Early remembered adding adapt to the family Word Book, and thinking she hadn’t understood then what the definition meant. She hadn’t known what it felt like to adapt, or how hard change could be.
Hold fast, Dash had said. Hold fast to dreams. The next part of Langston’s poem was about life becoming like a broken bird or a field of snow if you let go. You can do it, Dash had said next. Not as hard as it seems.
But it is, Dash! It’s about as hard as a rock! Early thought. As tough as a diamond, that hardest of all stones that looks as clear as glass but can easily hide a family of colors. Dash had told her what diamonds are like. And a pearl is fragile; it’s never clear.
How can dreamers hold fast to their dreams when every part of life goes to survival? And how can a Pearl dreamer hide rainbows, like a diamond, without seeming to hide a thing?
Wait: Why was she thinking about hiding rainbows?
Suddenly, she could feel Dash’s mind right next to her own. She wasn’t alone! Dash hadn’t deserted them. He was scratching his left ear, which he always did when puzzled; he’d help Early to do it, whatever it was.
Early was cheerful that morning on the way down to breakfast, and her energy spilled across Sum and Jubie like sunshine across a sill.
“I think we should explore the whole shelter today while Sum is making her calls, Jubie. Let’s go on an adventure. Peek everywhere. And maybe we’ll find some new books to read.”
“Yeah!” Jubie said. “Maybe we’ll find pirates! Pirates with swords!”
“I hope not,” Sum said. She looked at her kids, one scratching her left ear, the other hopping with excitement.
“Hold fast, and beware of treasure,” she added.
Clutch
“Don’t forget, stick close if a grown-up walks by, but otherwise spy.” Early leaned over and hissed the last word.
“Eeuuw,” Jubie said, pushing her away. “You spat in my ear.”
“Sorry.”
“Like this?” Jubie hunched his shoulders and squinted.
Early hid a smile. “I was thinking more about detective rules. Like, see everything but pretend you haven’t.”
“Huh?” Jubie said, his mouth open and his tongue sticking out.
“Never mind. Just look. Then notice. The smallest detail may be the one that matters the most.”
“Huh?” Jubie said. “Like me? I’m small!”
“Oh, boy,” Early said. “Yeah.”
“So we can find Dash!” Jubie crowed happily as they walked around the edge of the huge room where everyone ate their meals.
“Shhhh … finders need to be almost invisible. Like a lion stalking its prey,” Early whispered.
Jubie stopped dead. “A lion! I’m sad, I finished my animal crackers! And they don’t have ’em here!”
Early pulled Jubie into a corner. “Now look. You want to be a spy or not? Spies don’t mind if they run out of treats. Their treat is finding a clue!”
Jubie looked at his sister. “Right,” he said, although his lower lip trembled.
Together they circled many cardboard boxes filled with frankfurter buns, baked beans, and ketchup. Next they came to plastic grocery bags filled with clothing, stacked high in a corner. They hurried by garbage cans that needed to be cleaned and peeked inside the swing door to the kitchen. A large man in a white cooking uniform wiggled his little finger inside his ear, pulled it out for a look, and flicked whatever was stuck to his finger into the air.
Jubie said, “Guess he was finding stuff!”
Early laughed, squeezing his arm. “You my man, Jubie! Come on, let’s peek in the tutoring room.”
Through the glass door, which was locked, they spied a bookshelf, a bunch of round tables with chairs, and some drawings on the wall.
“A dictionary in the corner!” Early said. “Two shelves of books! And look, a paper supplies cabinet — I need a notebook and a pen, so we’re coming back here this afternoon. Maybe they’ll let us borrow books and also give me something I can write in.”
Jubie nodded. “I see games in the corner! Look over there, next to the paper cups. Spies always need games.”
Next they headed up the stairs, past the open sleeping area with all the clusters, and up another flight to a floor with separate rooms. The linoleum and stairwells were chipped and worn everywhere; perhaps thousands had scuffed, kicked, and thumped their way through endless winters. The walls were bare. Every window was covered, and overhead bulbs were encased in wire, as if they might escape. Some of the doors, which were black metal, stood open.
Early whispered to Jubie, “Walk by as if you know where you’re going, and look, but don’t stare. You know, like you’re not really paying attention.”
Jubie frowned. “You’re not the boss of me,” he said. “Only Sum and Dash.”
Early rolled her eyes. “I know — I’m just reminding you. Spies need to fit in. You want to be my finding buddy, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Jubie nodded.
“So,” Early said.
They walked. Loud arguing came from behind one door, the sounds of a man and a woman, and at least two babies crying. Inside another room, boxes and open garbage bags were stacked floor to ceiling, clothes spilling outward in all directions. A TV was on in the corner. Sunlight from the one window filtered through a torn blue-and-white-striped curtain. The two bunk beds were unmade and blanketed with kids.
A boy just about Early’s height peeked out of the next room, which was darker. “Hey!” he whispered. “You new here?”
“Yup,” Early said.
The boy fell back inside as if pulled from behind, and a mom with tired eyes appeared. She didn’t bother to say hello but glanced at Early and Jubie as if checking the weather, then told her son to stay on that floor. “And don’t be wandering or I’ll get my belt out. You know I mean it, now.”
The boy said, “Yes, ma’am,” and hopped out the door, giving Early a wink. “What’re you doing?” he asked. “And why ain’t you in school?” He had green, down-slanty eyes and smiled at Early as if he liked looking at her. She felt her face get warm.
“Why aren’t you?” Early asked.
“Will be tomorrow. Sixth grade. We just moved back here, from another place where there was mice and my mom says she got itchy from the mattress.”
“Oh,” Jubie said. “I didn’t like my mattress last night, neither. And there were people coughing and talking in our room.”
“You’ll get used to it” was the reply. “My name’s Darren.”
Early and Jubie introduced themselves. “So where’s your dad?” Jubie asked. “Mine had mahhhney but he’s lost right now. But we’re peeking — OW! Whaddju do that for, Early?” Jubie’s face crinkled up as he rubbed his arm where Early had just squeezed it.
“Because,” she said fiercely.
“Remember?”
Darren nodded. “I know! You’re spying, right? Come on, I’ll show you a few secrets. We’ve stayed here three or four times. They put us in this private room because my little brother snores and chokes all night.” Shoving down on the loops of a too-short pair of jeans, he took off down the hall in a cheerful swagger. Odd tufts of hair boinged up here and there as if he’d had a trim with a pair of gardening shears.
“This here end of the hall you don’t want to mess with — there’s a real tough dad in that room, been at this shelter for a while, and I heard him yellin’ last night. He’s always burned about somethin’. Once saw him pick his little baby kid up by one foot and shake him.
“Now, over here, nice group, you can play with those kids. You’ll see, you learn real quick which families to hang with, and when to be real busy when others go by, you know what I mean. Now here, there’s a little girl got somethin’ missing, but she’s real sweet, all the kids are tellin’ me. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. When I go to a new shelter, I learn all the names, and get the good and bad guys figured out, you know? Never waste no time.”
“I don’t want those bad guys to find us again, Early! I’m scared!” Jubie began to cry.
“They can’t come in here, Jubie. That’s not what Darren meant. Right, Darren?” Early looked sideways at their new friend as if to say, You’d better agree — tell you why later.
Darren nodded. “I just meant grumpy folks, not shoe-rockin’ evil.”
“How many shelters have you stayed in?” Early asked. She wondered what shoe rockin’ meant, and pictured a sneaker rolling back and forth on its sole.
Darren waved his hand. Early noticed a half-moon scar running along the back. Somehow, it looked good on him, like he was proud of it.
“Oh, a bunch,” he was saying. “We’re in and out. Sometimes we stay with one of my cousins until the ladies start fightin’, then we go to the train station for a night or two, and once we took a bus to another city to stay with an uncle, but my mom, she has trouble keeping a job and taking care of us — costs so much to get a sitter — so we ended up back in Chicago. At least here she knows when the free days for exciting stuff are, where to get a meal, health stuff, all that. We don’t have a home, but at least we got neighborhoods and places that we know. There’s benches and parks that feel kinda homey, at least when it’s not winter. And the last time she saw my dad, it was in Chicago, so just in case he wants to find us, she knows he’ll look in the shelters here.”
Early liked the way Darren made shelter life seem almost normal. “So dads know about the shelters?” she asked.
“You bet,” Darren said.
“Yeah! Dads can find kids! Just like we see every little thing!” Jubie crowed happily.
Early nudged him, suddenly embarrassed by how young he sounded, but Darren didn’t seem to mind. “I gotta head back before my mom starts swingin’ leather,” he said. “But maybe we’ll catch you later this afternoon when the kids are out of school. There’s a tutoring room downstairs — I was in there yesterday and those folks are all right. Plus sometimes they got a treat to share even if you don’t got no homework.”
“Yeah, I already wanted to go there,” Early said, and stood up straighter. Darren straightened up, too, so they were eye to eye. “Hey, one quick question,” Early added, wanting him to stay. “What was this building before it was a shelter?”
“Think it was a funeral parlor and then a chicken coop,” Darren said, with a grin. Seeing Early’s shocked expression, he said quickly, “Score! Naw, it was somethin’ like a warehouse for pet food long time ago, and the place we eat downstairs was for the trucks. I asked the lady once. Later.” He jerked his chin up in a quick salute, turned, and then spun back to say to Jubie, “Be easy, bro. Your sister rocks.” Jubie shrugged and giggled. Early blushed. After Darren was gone, Jubie practiced turning away, bending, and then spinning back, just the way Darren had.
Lunch that day felt less strange than any of the other meals had been. The mom and baby who’d vanished in the ambulance weren’t mentioned; there was grilled cheese, chips, grapes, and even chocolate graham crackers; and Early and Jubie told Sum they’d made a friend, pointing out Darren, who was busy helping his mom with his three little sisters, but still gave the Pearl kids a secretive nod.
Sum was cheerier because she’d gotten an appointment in two days to talk with a detective at the police department, someone who would surely listen to her suspicions.
“You and I will take the bus, Jubie, while Early’s at her new school. And maybe that’ll be when we get to the bottom of this crazy mess and get some traction on figuring out where your father might be. If we need to, we’ll raise such a stink that someone official will have to uncover whatever bad stuff is going on. They’ll find Dash, and when they do, he can set it all straight. Then all of this will just feel like a bad dream. Funny what a difference one successful phone connection can make!”
Although happy to hear her mom sounding so bubbly and hopeful, the thought of school made Early’s heart drop. Closing her eyes, she sent her dad a message.
Hurry up and come home, Dash! Gotta go to a new school, and I don’t want to. I’ve had enough of all this.
She opened her eyes to see Darren looking at her, with no winks but a tiny, questioning smile. She rubbed one eye, as if there were something stuck in there, and straightened her pony-tail. Noticing her sneakers were untied, she bent over to fix them, then watched her brother eat. She waited for Dash’s voice in her head, but all she heard was the sound of Jubie chewing his second cookie with his mouth open, chewing and humming.
Thinking she wanted a bite, he clutched it protectively against his shirt. When Early didn’t react, Jubie held the half-eaten cookie over one eye and whispered, “Spies!” then popped the rest into his mouth and grinned.
Early looked back toward Darren, but he was gone. She wished she’d returned his smile.
Circle, from the Middle English cercle and the Latin circulus
Noun: a flat curve that is always and forever
equidistant from a given fixed point; a group of
people sharing an interest or activity.
Verb: to enclose, revolve, move around an object
without reaching or touching it.
Circle
“Aisha.”
“Chantuse.”
“Key.”
“Raven.”
“Gani.”
“Nando.”
Early lost track of the names; the kids stood in a circle inside the tutoring room, and Mr. John, a young man with a white button-down shirt and jeans, introduced them all. He then clapped his hands and said, “Okay! Who’s got homework to do before we play a few games?”
Jubie held tight to Early’s hand and neither moved. Other kids unzipped backpacks and pulled out work sheets. In the middle of each of the tables was a jelly jar with pencils. A sign on the jar said HELP YOURSELF IF YOU NEED TO. PLEASE SHARPEN PENCIL BEFORE RETURNING IT.
“I’m not in my new school yet,” Early explained to Mr. John, when he asked if he could help her get started. “But I will be, the day after tomorrow. Could my brother and I look at some of your books? And — well, my notebook is gone, and do you have a small one I could write in?”
“Yeah,” Jubie piped up, before the tutor could answer. “Those bad guys took everything, and smashed all of our dishes and stuff, too. Pushed my mom and she fell down. They should be in jail. Or pow! Dead!”
Early’s heart sank. Keeping secrets was not her brother’s strong point. She felt her face getting hot as the other kids looked up from the tables. The room was suddenly quiet.
Jubie, standing up straighter, added, “And Early and I are gonna be spies.”
One of the older boys patted a chair next to him and said, “Here, spy dude, you can come sit next to me. We got paper and crayons you can use for your work.”
Sliding happily into the chair, Jubie grabbed a large red crayon and began to draw squashed
circles, one inside the other. He didn’t seem to notice the other kids smiling at him.
The tutor was digging in the supplies closet. “We used to have some small notebooks that one of the volunteers brought in … wait, no, darn!” He turned back to Early and shrugged.
“If you got some scissors, I can help her make one,” offered one of the girls. Terrible pink scars covered her neck, as if someone had ironed wrinkles onto her skin. She wore a spotless yellow sweater with a velvety collar, one Early would have loved to have. Her dozens of hair clips each boasted a perfect bow, and she touched them once in a while, as if to be sure they were still in place.
“You can call me Aisha,” the girl said to Early, and ducked her chin down toward her collarbone. “It says Belinda on my papers, but I renamed myself.”
Soon the two were cheerfully folding and cutting and stapling, and Early had a homemade pocket notebook. “Thanks so much!” she said with a grin. Meeting Aisha was one of the best things that had happened since leaving home. The other was Darren. Early wondered why he hadn’t come to the tutoring room yet.
“Do you like to read books?” Early asked as they carefully lined up the edges of each sheet of paper.
“Not too good at it,” her new friend replied. “It’s kinda hard, you know?”
“I could help you,” Early said. “It’s so fun, like seeing a movie with popcorn, only better, because it stays in your head as long as you want it to and then you can go back and see parts of it again!”
Aisha looked at her and shrugged. Her lower lip went out. “You sound like a teacher.”
Early wished she hadn’t been so quick to share. A teacher! This was no compliment. Was that because she said she liked reading? Would Aisha still be her friend if she knew how much everyone in the Pearl family loved books?
She tried to explain. “Books can keep you company, just like a stuffed animal or doll. My dad, we call him Dash, makes us kids hungry for words and stories. My mom loves ’em, too. And Jubie there can’t read, but he likes to listen. Plus, we don’t have a TV and you never get bored if you can read. There’s lots of free libraries in Chicago and anyone can take out books whenever they want. Just walk in, wave your card, and walk out with whole worlds under one arm, not even a penny spent! That’s what my dad used to say. What kind of stuff do you like to do?”
Hold Fast (9780545510196) Page 7
