by Janet Fox
Lulu found a picture book about sandhill cranes. They mate for life, it said, and could live for thirty years or more. Some summered over in Montana to lay their eggs and raise their young. They flew in great social groups, like Miss Walton had said, and made a distinctive sound when they called. They had wingspans of as much as five feet long and they danced in courtship.
That made Lulu think about Jack, standing with his arms akimbo, and she suddenly felt sick. What would Jack think of her, of her being so irresponsible? What would Jack think of her when he heard she lost her sister? When he heard she lived in a car? When he heard that her daddy left and didn’t come back? When he heard that she hid out in the library, which was probably illegal? When he heard that she’d lied to him about almost everything?
Lulu rubbed her cheeks hard because she’d clenched her teeth so tight her jaw ached.
There was no way she’d ever let on to Jack that her life was such a ruin, such a mess, so broken. No. Way. She didn’t want Jack to think of her the way her Texas friends had thought of her after her mama died, like her condition was contagious. She couldn’t bear it if Jack looked at her the way her old friends had.
Lulu made batches of paper cranes throughout the day, ten at a time. Ten cranes and then some reading. Ten more and then more reading.
The crushed gray crane went inside a small pocket of her backpack, so that she could protect it.
Lulu and her daddy and Serena had migrated from Texas to Montana just like the sandhill cranes, except when fall came Daddy and Lulu and Serena had stayed in Montana. When maybe, Lulu thought now, they should have gone back to Texas.
Except she didn’t want to go back to Texas any longer. Even though she didn’t have boots. Even though she wasn’t sure about snow and cold. She wanted to find Serena and Daddy—if that was possible, which she wasn’t sure of any longer but she still had to try—and stay right here in this town in Montana, surrounded by mountains and rivers and blue, blue sky. If she found Serena and Daddy, no one would ever have to know about the Suburban and what Lulu had done or not done.
She had enough food to satisfy her, at least for today. Monday would be a stretch. Tuesday she would have to go to social services, though it was the last thing she really wanted to do, but she had to because it was the first step in her new game plan. It was the only way she figured that she could find Serena, at least.
It began to snow in the afternoon, and the library felt warm and inviting. All those books. All to herself. The old radiators clanked and hissed as they came on. As the day wore on and it grew shadowy and then dark, Lulu put on her headphones and danced and sang by the glow of the pale safety lights and tried to keep the bad thoughts away, the thoughts about how she’d failed her family. And then she began to make paper cranes again.
She made paper cranes until her fingers ached and her eyes blurred. They piled up around her in her tower nest. More and more and more, as the snow fell softly, silencing the world outside while she was warm and nested inside, her cranes piled up around her like multicolored snow.
When she finally fell asleep Lulu dreamt she was reading one of the last-week’s newspapers that lay spread out underneath her.
She dreamt she read an article that she couldn’t understand. UNIDENTIFIED read the title. It was a strange story about two men and they were both mixed up with cranes, sandhill cranes flapping their giant wings, dancing, wings akimbo, like Jack.
51
LULU THOUGHT she was still dreaming.
First the light. So bright it was blinding, shining right in her eyes, so when she opened them she couldn’t see.
Then the touch. Someone’s fingers on her cheek, brushing her hair off her forehead.
Then the realization. The newspaper. The one that lay under her head surrounded by her paper cranes. The article in the paper about two men, one found unconscious, hurt, with no identification by a second man who was alerted by the strange behavior of a sandhill crane. Lulu understood, with a shock, what had happened to her daddy, when the story filtered through her unconscious brain and into waking-ness.
Lulu had been so sure there were no coincidences that it just hadn’t occurred to her that there might be something like coincidences after all.
She sat up with a start in the tower room that was now filled with bright daylight bouncing off snow, and stared straight into the very concerned eyes of Ms. M.
And then, for the first time since she could remember, Lulu began to cry.
52
IT WAS all because of a crane.
Ms. M had been coming into the library on the holiday to catch up on some work when she saw that the tower door was open, and a yellow paper crane lay on one of the steps leading up to the tower, right underneath the chain with the NO ADMITTANCE sign. After seeing it there she had a hunch, she told Lulu.
Well, sure. It was a crane.
She told Lulu this while her arms were wrapped around Lulu, who sobbed. She sobbed and sobbed as if all the not-crying over time had built up a well of tears that just had to come out now, as Lulu sat in a bed of paper cranes with Ms. M hugging her and saying, softly, “There, there.”
Lulu sobbed because she’d never make enough paper cranes. She sobbed because of the mistakes she’d made since Daddy had disappeared. She sobbed because of the things she remembered now about her mama. She sobbed over the loss of Serena, and she sobbed over the crushed gray crane in her pack.
And she sobbed because she was pretty sure she knew where Daddy was now, and why hadn’t she thought of this possibility and why had she doubted him, and why she’d thought he’d abandoned Lulu and Serena instead of really truly met with an accident.
Lulu sobbed harder because she had doubted her own daddy. And she sobbed with relief because it looked like he was still alive. Still with her. She hoped.
Lulu sobbed hardest because Ms. M was right there, telling Lulu it would be all right and she’d help with whatever Lulu needed and Lulu hadn’t had to ask.
But now she had to stop sobbing and straighten up and get to the hospital right away because she was as sure as sure that the unidentified man who was lying there in a coma was her daddy.
Slowly, slowly, Lulu stopped sobbing, and gulped big gulps of air, and then she sniffed and blew her nose with the tissue that Ms. M gave her. She swallowed hard so that she could speak.
“My daddy,” Lulu said, and stopped. She looked up at Ms. M, whose wide brown eyes reminded Lulu suddenly of her mama.
“Yes, honey,” Ms. M said, her voice as soft as feathers. “Go on.”
Those wide brown eyes and those words made it kind of hard to go on. Because all this time Lulu hadn’t gone on with any other grown-ups. She hadn’t trusted them enough to go on.
But now Lulu did. She said, “My daddy’s been missing. But I think I know where he is.”
Ms. M waited. She waited, so still Lulu could see the dust whorls in the air around her head. Lulu whispered, “I think he’s in the hospital.”
Ms. M said, “Well, if you think that’s true, let’s go there right now.” She stood up and brushed her skirt and held out her hand, and Lulu took it.
Lulu took the newspaper, too, as they went, because she needed to read the article from start to finish, because there was a secret about what had happened to her daddy locked inside those words. She read it out loud to Ms. M as she sat strapped into the back seat of Ms. M’s car.
“Strangest thing,” said the man who was interviewed in the article. “I’m a veteran bird-watcher, but I’ve never seen the like. Heard this crane out in the meadow, calling as if her baby had been taken by a fox, so I grabbed my binocs and went out there, and this crane was dancing over something that turned out to be an injured man. Now, if you know cranes, they do dance but it’s in the spring, of course, and it’s the males that dance. I’m pretty sure this was a female crane. And so late in the season, and all alone. It was like it was her sole purpose to call attention to the poor guy, though maybe it was just that there
was a fox and her own baby out there, too.”
The article went on to say that the injured man had appeared to have been beaten by someone, maybe looking to rob him, or maybe just because, and the grass was awful high so he’d been hidden and if it hadn’t been for that crane and the man with his binocs, why, with the cold and snow, why… and the injured man had suffered major trauma and was in a coma, with no identification, and if anyone thought they might know who he was to please call this number.
Ms. M, driving now to the hospital, said, “That story was on the television news yesterday. Someone came forward and said they knew him. Is your daddy a carpenter?”
Lulu thought she might cry again but she held back. Instead she told Ms. M everything. About her mama being sick and how her daddy got so sad. About the money that he owed after her mama died. About leaving Texas for Montana. About living in the Suburban. About her daddy disappearing. About how she hid it when he disappeared. About how it was hard. About how Serena was taken away by social services.
Telling Ms. M everything felt so wonderful it was as if her heart was lifted up, floating, flying.
Partway through Lulu’s life story, Ms. M stopped the car by the side of the road and turned right around from the front seat as she listened to Lulu’s confession; most of the time Ms. M looked like she was trying hard not to burst into tears herself.
At the end Lulu said, “Can you help me find Serena?”
Ms. M’s lips were pursed. She took a deep breath. “I’ll try.” She paused and shook her head. “I can’t believe you were living in your car and you didn’t say anything. I wish I could’ve helped. I wish I would’ve known. I’m so, so…” Her lips grew tight.
Ms. M turned back around and rubbed her fingers over her eyes, and drove on.
* * *
It was him.
The room was dark, like Mama’s last room, and there were lots of beeps, like in Mama’s last room, and the darkness and the beeps pushed the air out of Lulu’s lungs again like before and she had to stand in the doorway to slow down her heart so she could breathe again.
So she could stand up.
Lulu moved to the side of the bed and took her daddy’s hand. Behind her the doctor began to whisper to Ms. M.
Lulu turned right around and said, “Don’t talk behind my back. Tell me.” She wasn’t going to have that experience this time. Not like Mama.
The doctor raised his eyebrows, but he nodded. “We’ve kept him in what we call a medically induced coma. We’re waiting for the swelling to go down and his injuries to stabilize. It’s a way for him to heal. But of course, he couldn’t tell us who he was. It wasn’t until his boss came in on Friday that we were sure. His boss said he’d been missing since the same day he was discovered in the field, and that him missing work wasn’t like him.” The doctor paused and looked down at the floor before going on. “And your father’s boss said that he put two and two together by thinking it all through from things your father said about where you all might be living. He went to the RV park just as they were towing your car and learned from the park’s owner that your family was living in your car. He said that if he’d known your family was living in a car, why, he’d have helped you all out long ago.”
Hank, the construction man from the job site, Lulu realized, her daddy’s boss, would’ve helped them. If he’d known. Lulu cleared her throat, and said, “Then, my daddy’ll be okay?”
“We believe so. We’re doing our best. But it’ll be a bit of time before we know everything. It’s good he was found so soon after it happened.”
Lulu turned back to her daddy. He was so bandaged up, and bruised and swollen, that she might not have recognized him. But it was him and her heart swelled with both sadness and joy.
She’d never known you could be both happy and sad at the same time, but there it was.
She leaned over and kissed her daddy gently on the cheek.
“I’ve got to go get Serena, Daddy,” she said, “I’ll be back.”
53
MS. MAURENE’S husband was a lawyer. He began making phone calls as soon as Lulu finished telling him her story. Lulu stayed at their house, waiting to hear what he learned.
While Lulu waited, Ms. M found some clean clothes from her now college-age daughter that would fit her. She showed Lulu where she could take a shower (which was really nice, a clean bathroom with soft towels and superhot water and nice-smelling soap).
In the shower Lulu let herself cry again because the water felt good and because the heat helped her relax and because she was alone with her tears mixing with the water and because she realized that she hadn’t thanked Ms. M for her kindness.
“It’s nothing, Lulu,” Ms. M said, when Lulu came into the kitchen to a table covered with food and thanked Ms. M over and over. “It’s what anyone would do. Should do.”
She handed Lulu a plate of peanut butter and jelly and cheese sticks and an apple and then gave her chocolate ice cream. As she ate, Lulu thought. She thought about Ms. M’s generosity and that it wasn’t what Lulu had ever considered anyone would do. But then she realized that that was partly because she had never asked. And of course not just anyone would, but Ms. M did.
Plus.
Jack had given her his milk when he saw she was thirsty.
Deana had invited her to her home and wanted to give her a doll called Royal Bee.
A strange man had found her daddy beaten and unconscious in the tall grass and called the police.
Her daddy’s boss, Hank, had figured out where they lived and then learned about them living in the Suburban, and said he would’ve helped had he known sooner.
And Ms. M took Lulu in without a second’s thought.
So many people cared. So many people wanted to help. Lulu swallowed against the tears that rose in her throat, and realized that she probably wouldn’t be someone who didn’t cry any longer.
She’d probably be a lot like Miss Walton and cry at every little thing. Cry because people really did care.
“It was tricky because of the holiday weekend but I finally found someone who knew things,” Ms. M’s husband, Mr. Albert, said, coming into the kitchen and rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache. “Your sister’s in a foster care home on the other side of town.”
Lulu stood up at once. “I want to go get her.”
Mr. Albert said, “Lulu, we can’t take her away with us. That’s not legal, with your dad in the condition he’s in. But you can go see her. And I’ve arranged for you to stay here until we sort things out later this week.”
Lulu bit her lip and swallowed hard. She nodded.
“And while we’re on our way there, I want you to tell me everything you know about why your dad left Texas. I’m going to see if I can help straighten things out so when he’s well he can get back on his feet.”
Mr. Albert had called ahead to the foster family. When they arrived, Serena was waiting on the porch, bouncing from one leg to the other. Lulu jumped out of the car and ran so fast that the two of them collided.
Then Lulu cried for the third time that day.
“They’re really nice, Lu,” Serena said. “I’m okay. I saw the doctor and he gave me some medicine so my cough is going away. I missed you but I’m all right.” She whispered, “They have lots of neat toys. They even have a Barbie with tons of clothes. And they have really good food except they made me eat peas.”
Lulu had to laugh through her tears, because she knew how much Serena hated peas.
Serena already knew about their daddy. Social services had figured things out and had been trying to find Lulu for the past two days. “You were really good at hiding, huh,” said Serena, almost proud.
Ms. M said she would bring Lulu back the next day to visit Serena again. Lulu hugged her sister so tight Serena said, “Ow, Lu.” But she hugged her right back.
When they drove into Ms. M’s driveway, Lulu saw someone out the window.
Jack. He was making a snowman though there really wasn’t t
hat much snow and it was already melting.
And she remembered that he lived next door to Ms. Maurene and Mr. Albert.
His eyes were like platters when he saw Lulu get out of their car, and he said, “What’re you doing here?”
It was a long explanation that took two glasses of milk—two glasses of juice for Jack—and several cookies each. Jack listened without interrupting so Lulu told him everything, all the way back to when Mama told her about the baby, before she got sick. By the time she was finished, they’d moved to the living room couch and it was suppertime.
Jack stood up to go, but he said, “Maybe while you live here we can practice. Because you’ll be living so close to me and all.”
“Am I living here?” Lulu said out loud.
From the kitchen Ms. M said, “Yes, you are. You’re not leaving until we find you a house to live in. And that’s that.”
“I can’t believe you lived in your car,” Jack said, his voice as soft as feathers. “What was it like?”
Lulu had to stop and think. “When we were all together it wasn’t… like a prison or anything. When the weather was good. But when Daddy…” She couldn’t finish.
“Nobody should have to live in a car,” said Jack, not even sounding a bit like Jack as his face glowed red.
No, she thought. No one should ever, ever have to live in a car. It just wasn’t right. No one should have to live without a home.
And then she thought, No more.
Suddenly Lulu realized that she would be living in a house again, even if temporarily, with people who cared. Her daddy was alive and would be well, with help. She’d found Serena, who was fine. She could go back to school and be in the play and sing and dance and act with Jack. And she even kind of liked Deana now.
