“Like what?” I asked.
“For me it’s who I was and who I am and who I’ll be. It’s everything I know and everything I don’t know. It’s this, right here, right now.”
I laid my hand on his chest. “You’re amazing.”
I thought about his surgeries, the one he’d had and the one he needed.
“I’m going to talk to Buck,” I said. “Demand that he give us whatever money he earns from our photos. We can put it toward your surgery.”
He smiled. “Thanks. But I have money from my dad, remember?”
“No you don’t,” I said. “You spent it on a bulldozer.”
He laughed. “I did?”
“Yep. I used it to scoop Buck up. He’s in the dump now, where he belongs.”
“Good,” he said. “I’m glad.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Me too.”
CHAPTER NINE
Miracle was eating chicken wings at the counter. Her cheeks were stained with tears.
“Where’s Mr. Chen?” I asked.
She nodded to the back.
He was sitting in a chair in the corner.
I’d never seen him sitting before. Poor man was overworked. And having Miracle around all the time probably didn’t help.
Before I had a chance to ask him why she’d been crying he said, “Do you like this job, Poppy Flower?”
“Of course,” I said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t do it.”
“What do you like about it?” he said. “Besides the hiding?”
“Hiding?” I said, through the mesh screen in my neck. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“You wear your costume to and from work,” he said. “I’ve never had a mascot do that before.”
“It gets me in character,” I said.
Mr. Chen rolled his eyes. “Oh, please.”
“If you don’t think this job is suitable for me,” I said, grooming my chest feathers, “you can always fire me.”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” he said. “I just think you might want to reflect on why you chose this job and whether or not you’re happy.”
“I’m happy,” I said. “Deliriously happy.”
He rolled his eyes. “Excuse me while I get my mop. There’s a puddle forming from your dripping sarcasm.”
“None of this really matters anyway,” I said. “Summer’s coming to an end and this mascot gig will be a thing of the past.”
He looked to the sky. “Hallelujah.”
For some reason, I didn’t feel as jubilant as he did.
“Anyway,” I said, “I just came back here to ask about Miracle. She looks upset.”
“The social worker’s car was outside her house,” he said. “She’s afraid they’ve come to take her away.”
“Do you think they will?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
We headed back to the front counter. Miracle was gone.
“I wish her mother would do a better job of keeping an eye on her,” I said.
“It takes a village, Poppy Flower.”
“Where’s the village when she’s down on James Street with the drug addicts and the crazy people?”
“James Street is the village,” he said. “Part of it anyway.”
“James Street? A village?” I said. “Pfssh. More like a slum. If you ask me, that place needs cleaning up.”
“It’s not cleaning it needs,” said Mr. Chen. “It’s fixing. I’ve been fighting for a long time for more services down there, to get the police focused on harm reduction, not law enforcement, to open more health clinics.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “It’s just as well I spend my time hiding,” I said. “I don’t think I’m a very nice person.”
“Don’t worry, Poppy Flower,” he said. “You might be completely useless as a chicken, but as humans go I think you’re pretty fine.”
He wasn’t so bad himself.
I looked at the till. “Remember that night I worked on cash?”
He picked up a cloth and started wiping the counter. “Yes. I remember.”
I reached for the cloth and took over his cleaning. “Remember how I answered the phone?”
He put on a feminine voice. “Chen Chicken. Poppy speaking. How may I be of service?”
I laughed. “That was very professional of me, wasn’t it?”
He shrugged. “I suppose.”
I kept my head down and scrubbed a particularly stubborn coffee stain. “Mr. Chen, I was wondering if, in the fall—”
He reached over, put his hand gently on mine. “Yes.”
I looked up. “Really?”
He slid the cloth from under my hand. “As long as you keep up with your studies.”
He looked at the stain with disgust.
“Try whiskey,” I said. “I heard it really does the trick.”
He pointed to the door. “Out.”
I smiled. “I won’t let you down, Mr. Chen.”
Outside, I marched with my sign up and down the street. A car pulled up. An old man inside it said, “You selling sex?”
“No,” I said. “Chicken wings.”
He looked me up and down. “How much?”
I pointed to the sign. “$8.99 a dozen.”
He parked the car and went into the shop.
Guess I wasn’t so useless after all.
* * *
Things were quiet at the bridge that night. It was just the two of us, Thumper and me. There was a hole in my life but he filled it a bit. But then Lewis rounded the corner and the hole got a little bit bigger.
“Miracle’s gone.”
Butterflies filled my stomach.
“Her mom thought she was in her room but she wasn’t. We’ve looked everywhere.”
“She left Chen Chicken at four,” I said.
I counted on my fingers. “That was four hours ago.”
“Have the police been called?” said Thumper.
He nodded. “They’re on the way.”
Images flashed in my mind. Nasty, horrible, vile images.
I ran to the river and threw up. “She’s dead,” I said. “Someone kidnapped her. They did terrible things, then they killed her.”
Lewis grabbed me by the arms. “Get a grip, Poppy.”
“I can’t,” I said.
“You can,” he said. “And you will.”
* * *
We went to Miracle’s house. Prints of her latest school photo covered the kitchen table. The cops wanted to speak with me. They wanted to know what Miracle was last seen wearing, but all I could picture was Miracle dead in a ditch—a beautiful mix of pattern and color dumped in a pile of dirt.
My voice shook.
“Her baby-blue shirt was covered in hearts and her backpack was dotted and striped. She wore her hair in two braided buns, high on her head like mouse ears. Her skirt was green with three tiers of frills and there was a Band-Aid on her right knee. Her Mary Jane shoes had lights in the soles and her socks had polka dots.”
I felt an officer’s hand on my shoulder. “‘Don’t worry, about a thing.’”
He said thing without the h.
* * *
Cam was staring at the ceiling with headphones on. I took them off with shaking hands.
“The little girl with the polka-dot socks, she’s gone missing.”
“Go away, Poppy.”
“This is serious,” I said.
“You know what else is serious?” he said. “A little thing called a sexual assault evidence kit. You’ll be happy to know that my genital bruising has been thoroughly documented.”
My head was spinning. I leaned against his wall.
“Sorry,” he said. “Am I boring you?”
“No. I—”
“I know this isn’t as exciting as a missing kid,” he said, “but it’s kind of a big deal to me.”
My voice came out strangled. “She’s all on her own.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Poppy. Little kids are a
lways getting up to no good. She’ll be home in a few hours, when her little adventure gets old.”
I grabbed hold of his words, clung to them for dear life. “Oh, Cam. Do you really think so?”
He put his headphones back on. “I dunno. Maybe. What the hell do I know?”
Miracle was dead and Cam hated me. What was the point if my points were all gone?
* * *
I cried in my mom’s arms. My dad put me to bed like I was a child. I wanted to search all night, but he said no, he wanted me home safe and sound. So I stayed in bed, but when he was gone I jumped into a portal of darkness.
I watched kidnappings caught on tape.
What if she was gone? What if I never saw her again?
I went to Buck’s website, scoured for photos of Miracle. There were many.
Miracle, in her sleeping bag under the bridge.
Miracle, throwing stones into the river.
Miracle, mid-pirouette.
The images were beautiful. The captions were not.
No fixed address.
Passing time at the homeless camp.
Street girl dancing.
Buck was selling a lie.
I scrolled through hundreds of photos.
One took my breath away. It was Lewis, his head in Thumper’s lap, his tearstained face looking into mine. Devastated, yet hopeful.
I put my head on my pillow. I pictured Miracle in all her clatching glory.
I couldn’t wait to see her again.
A breeze flowed in through my window. I hoped it would carry my sadness to Cam so he would come back to me.
* * *
I woke up at six. I went under the bridge to see if Miracle was there. Thumper was reading his bible. He said there’d been some news.
I ran home, pressed my face to Cam’s door. It was cold against my cheek.
“They found a shoe.”
He didn’t answer.
My voice was broken. “It had lights in the sole.”
* * *
I went to see Lewis. His hopeful face looked into mine. “We’ll find her.”
We searched the part of the river where the shoe was found. We looked through the overgrown weeds and fallen trees. We were startled by a rustling beside us. I grabbed Lewis’s hand. Maybe it was her. Maybe she’d been lost in the woods. The tall grass parted. It was Cam. He ran to me. We touched foreheads. We wiped each other’s tears with our thumbs.
Then we continued the search.
* * *
The three of us went back to Miracle’s. The house was full of people—neighbors, Mr. Chen, business owners from Elgin and James. Thumper was sitting on the couch. He had his bible in his lap. I touched it, hoping something profound would seep from the pages into my soul.
She hadn’t been seen in nineteen hours. My stomach was churning. The butterflies were gone and in their place were miniature dragons, breathing fire and jabbing my insides.
Miracle’s mom was standing in the kitchen. Someone was holding her hand while a police officer asked questions. She said, “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I can’t think straight.”
I knew the problem. She was frozen inside a big block of ice.
Mr. Chen dinged a teacup to get everyone’s attention. He didn’t look worried anymore—he looked determined. He said the police were doing their best but we had the manpower of a small army. He spread out a map on the kitchen table and divided the downtown core into sections. Lewis, Cam, and I said we’d take James, because Lewis knew it well.
Just as we were getting ready to leave, Buck showed up.
“Get lost, Buck,” said Lewis. “We don’t need your help.”
Cam got in his face. “Anyone who calls my sister the Pillsbury Doughboy is asking for a knuckle sandwich.”
Buck brushed past us. “You can give it to me later, mate. After we’ve found Miracle.”
Miracle’s mom fell into his arms when she saw him. “She’s been gone so long.”
A house full of people and it was Buck who melted the ice.
“I told her that you were helping with the rent,” she said, “that I didn’t need to work anymore. But she was still scared that she’d be taken away.”
Buck rubbed her shoulders. “Look at all these people. They’re going to find her.”
The search parties began heading out.
We were just getting ready when I saw Buck looking at Mr. Chen’s map. He was all alone.
I caught his eye. “Well, come on if you’re coming.”
We walked, all four of us, down the tracks toward James Street.
“What if she was hit by a train?” I said.
“She wasn’t hit by a train,” said Buck.
I saw a photo once. Of a dismembered body.
“What if we only find part of her?”
“Pops,” said Cam. “Stop.”
Lewis took my hand. “Don’t worry,” he said. “She’ll be back before you know it, twerking inappropriately and driving you nuts.”
That’s when it hit me.
“Oh my God.”
I took off like a bat out of hell.
“What the hell, Pops?”
“Slow down, Pidge.”
I ran down Elgin with the others on my heels. When I got to James, I caught my breath with my hands on my knees.
I looked between two second-story windows. Was it the room above the tattoo parlor? Or the room above Massage and More?
“Pops,” said Cam. “What’s going on?”
“MaJonna,” I said. “She’s with MaJonna.”
He frowned. “Who the hell is MaJonna?”
“MaJonna?” said Lewis. “Why didn’t you say?”
He ran to the door next to Massage and More and tried the handle.
I looked at him, surprised. “You know MaJonna?”
He thumped the door open with his shoulder. “Everyone knows MaJonna.”
We scrambled up the stairs to Madonna’s “Vogue.” The first thing I saw when we stepped into the apartment was a six-foot-tall man in a blond wig and a cone bra. Next to him, with two waffle cones taped to her T-shirt, was Miracle. They were in the middle of a choreographed routine. She smiled when she saw us, like a child in a school play who’d just spotted her parents. I made a move for her but Lewis held me back. “Let them finish,” he whispered. “She’s safe. He’s harmless.”
While they performed, Buck called Miracle’s mother. When the song was over we clapped, some of us more enthusiastically than others.
“Bravo, bravo,” shouted Cam.
I rushed to Miracle and hugged her, squashing her cone bra to bits. “You’ve had us all worried sick!”
I was shaking, with anger, relief, and confusion. Miracle, on the other hand, was pretty relaxed.
“I came for a sleepover,” she said, “so I could learn to dance like a pro. If I get famous I can take care of Mama.”
MaJonna hugged Lewis hard. “Lewis the lunch man!”
Lewis smiled. “Okay, Jon. Not so tight.”
I looked at Lewis. “Lunch man?”
“I volunteer with a lunch program on Saturdays,” he said.
I needed to brush up on my connecting skills. “You do?”
MaJonna moved on to Buck. “Camera man!”
“Hey, mate,” said Buck. “How’s that new CD player working out?”
He was an asshole, but a generous one.
We heard sirens in the distance.
MaJonna looked frightened. “Am I in trouble?”
Cam stepped in. “Hey, MaJonna. What’s your favorite Madonna song? Mine’s ‘Like a Prayer.’”
MaJonna riddled off his top twenty, from best to worst.
Lewis looked to Buck. “They won’t arrest him, will they?”
Buck shook his head. “I hope not.”
Miracle’s mom burst through the door. She fell to her knees, grabbed her daughter, and held her tight. She cried like I’d never heard anyone cry before. It was a wailing, from somewhere down deep. It made Mi
racle cry too. “I’m sorry, Mama. I’m sorry.”
MaJonna hugged the officers. He knew them all by name. My officer was Ben.
Miracle seemed confused by the officer’s questions. “Why would he hurt me? I slept on his couch. He only got mad once, when he forgot the words to ‘Express Yourself.’”
A caseworker showed up. She reminded MaJonna about responsibility. She said if he couldn’t make good choices, he’d be moved to a group home. He slammed his fist on the table. Then he sobbed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I won’t do it again.” Officer Ben got him a glass of water. “Come on, Jon. Calm down, you’re alright.”
Lewis squeezed MaJonna’s shoulder. “Don’t cry, buddy.”
Buck held Miracle so her mom could hold MaJonna’s hand.
Cam and I stood back. The whole scene was beautifully sad.
* * *
Miracle’s house was full of people. Search parties returned to food and drink, put together by the shopkeepers of Elgin and James.
Mr. Chen bawled when he saw his Merry-girl. I had to go to the bathroom to pull myself together. When I left the bathroom Buck was waiting outside.
“Can we talk?”
“You stole our stories.”
“Those photos are art.”
“I agree,” I said. “But did you have to lie? Pretend to be homeless? Why couldn’t you just come down to the bridge, say, Hi, I’m a photographer, may I take your picture?”
He didn’t speak. Not because he was at a loss for words but because he was full of them and didn’t know where to begin.
I nodded to the back door. We went outside and sat on the steps.
“The thing is, Pidge, I’ve been alone my whole life. My parents divorced when I was five, my mom had her career. I had photography but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to be someone different.”
“So you slummed it under the bridge?”
“I wanted something more. I wanted to feel…I don’t know…fulfilled.”
“You think homelessness is fulfilling?”
He shrugged. “More fulfilling than that sterile, empty apartment my mother set me up in.”
Chicken Girl Page 13
