Out on the street, I took a last look at our building. David was standing at his bedroom window, looking out. He was flapping his arms. It looked like he was waving goodbye.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TIRED FEET
It was a pretty dumb idea.
If all the secret police couldn’t find X, with all of their spy tools like telephones in their shoes and jet-propulsioned umbrellas, how was I going to find her? All I had were two peanut butter and corn syrup sandwiches, and neither of them contained a secret camera or even a scrap of microfilm.
It was a dumb idea to continue.
It would have been even dumber to go home without at least trying to find her.
I started walking.
I had walked past the library when I remembered the pouch full of wedding money under my mattress. If I had been smart, I would have brought that with me. I wasn’t smart.
The night world is a different place from the day world. It’s got the same buildings and streets and everything, but everything looks different, everything sounds different, everything feels different.
The last time I was outside at this time of night was when Tammy and I took the boys to the hospital. I thought I was miserable that night. I wasn’t. Compared to how I felt now, I was happy that night.
I think people feel more invisible at night. During the day, it’s light out, and everyone can see you. During the night, you’re just a shadow. You become part of the darkness.
I felt like a shadow, too, until a police car drove by, and then I felt very visible. I turned out of the light of the street lamps and into the darkness of Allan Gardens.
There were lights around the main path, but the rest of the park was in shadows. The wind was blowing the dead leaves around on the ground, and the tree branches squeaked when they rubbed together. Something horrible could be behind every tree.
In the darkness, I stumbled over something and fell smack on my face into the grass. The something I’d tripped over moaned.
I jumped up as if I’d been hit by an electric bolt, and turned to look at what I’d tripped over. A man was sleeping on the ground. No blanket, no sleeping bag, no anything. He must have been cold.
He rolled over onto his back, and his arm flopped out toward me. I thought he was reaching for me, and I took off like a shot.
Allan Gardens, the park I’d been to a thousand times, the park I’d taken my brothers to and sat with X in was now a place of horror. “How about the Haunted Allan Gardens?” I said out loud, as if I was talking to Tammy. “Ghosts could jump out at you from behind trees, and park benches could come alive.”
The headlights of the cars going past the park made the shadows move. Everything looked like it was going to grab me.
I was scared silly being there, but I kept at it. Soon there was just one section left to check — the area behind the greenhouse. So far, none of the people I’d seen sleeping on park benches was X.
Close to the end of the park, I was looking the wrong way when a man stepped out of the shadows. He must have been looking the wrong way, too. We bumped into each other and both let out a yell. I ran. I didn’t look to see what he did.
I kept running, not stopping until I was almost at Yonge Street. I didn’t feel like a brave explorer. I felt like just what I was — a scared kid in a huge city at night, looking for a woman who didn’t want to be found.
I headed north on Yonge.
Yonge Street is Toronto’s main street. It’s the longest street in the country, or in the world, or maybe even in the universe. It stretches from Lake Ontario to very, very far in the north, maybe all the way to the North Pole.
I hoped I wouldn’t have to go that far.
I needed to think. I sat on the steps of a dress shop, scrunching back against a doorway so I wouldn’t be seen. There weren’t a lot of people out on the street, but there were some. I wanted to be invisible.
X needed to be invisible, too. She would stay in the shadows. She wouldn’t go where there were big windows and bright lights. She wouldn’t go into donut shops.
She would stick to dark places — parks, alleys, back streets. There had to be a million places like that in Toronto. How could I search them all?
The answer was, I couldn’t, and even if I could, X was not going to sit still and wait for me to get to her. I could search one alley, and leave it just as she was slipping into it from the other end.
I’d just have to do the best I could, and maybe I’d get lucky.
There was an alley that ran behind Yonge Street. I started walking there, but it was too scary. All those corners and narrow doorways — they were completely dark. I didn’t have a flashlight so the only way to check them would be to step into the darkness and feel around. I couldn’t bring myself to do that. If X was there, and she felt someone grab her in the dark, she’d think it was the secret police, and she’d run away. If X wasn’t there, well, I didn’t want to know what was.
I decided to stick to the main street. I’d search those alley places during the day.
I kept heading north. Almost every doorway had somebody sleeping in it. Some of the sleepers were just sprawled out on the cement. Others had blankets. Some had big pieces of cardboard underneath them, to keep out the chill of the pavement.
I wondered where all these people went when the stores opened up.
By the time the sky got light, and the streets began to be busy with people heading to work, I had gotten as far as Eglinton Avenue, which is a long, long way from Regent Park.
There were skyscrapers here, and shops that were fancier than any place Tammy had ever shopped in.
I could smell bacon cooking in some of the restaurants.
I was exhausted, and I had to go to the bathroom. I went into a donut shop.
“Washrooms are for customers only,” the woman behind the counter said, glaring at me. She was rude, like Valerie, but I didn’t feel anything good behind the rudeness — just more rudeness.
She was very busy with customers. When she turned to fetch someone a blueberry muffin, I snatched the washroom key from the little peg on the wall. I’d be done before she knew it was missing.
The face in the bathroom mirror didn’t look much like mine. Its eyes were puffy, and it looked scared. I splashed cold water on it. That didn’t help. Now my face looked puffy, scared and wet.
There were no paper towels, so I dried my face on my sweater and left the bathroom. I heard the door click behind me as I realized I’d left the key in there. I left the donut shop in a hurry. For all I knew, locking the key in the bathroom was a crime.
This didn’t seem to be the sort of neighborhood where X would feel comfortable. There weren’t as many poor people out on the streets. X would stick out too much here. I crossed the street and headed back downtown.
I kept walking until I reached Mount Pleasant Cemetery. It looked so warm and quiet that I decided to go there, just for a moment, to sit down.
Tammy and the boys and I often walked in the graveyard near our place, next to Riverdale Farm. It was a very old graveyard, with winding paths and lots of trees and squirrels.
This graveyard was different — more open — but still very beautiful.
I found a private spot in the sunshine, near some graves but not on top of any, in case the people buried there wouldn’t like it. I sat down.
By now, Tammy and the boys would be awake. She’d have found my note on the kitchen table. I could see them all there, in the kitchen, eating breakfast. I wished I were there with them.
I stretched out on the grass. The sun was warm, and I was tired. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WIN SOME, LOSE SOME
When I woke up, it was early afternoon. The crushing sleepy feeling was gone from my head, but the rest of me sure felt lousy. I was sore from the skinhead beating and stiff from lying on the ground. The sun had disappeared behind some clouds, and I was shivering.
I was also hungry, and I needed to go to the
bathroom.
After making sure no one was around, I ducked into some bushes and went to the bathroom. How does X manage, I wondered? Does she use the bushes, too?
I started walking down Yonge Street again. Walking warmed me up a little, and once I got moving I didn’t feel so stiff. It was an easier walk this time — mostly downhill.
“Spare some change?”
I looked around. “Are you talking to me?” I asked the two people wrapped in a blanket, sitting in a doorway.
“You and everybody else,” the woman grinned. “You don’t happen to have any spare change, do you?”
I shook my head. “Not a cent. Oh, you have a little dog!”
“His name’s Winsome,” the man said. “You know, you win some, you lose some?”
Winsome licked my face as I petted him. The woman made room for me on her blanket, and I sat down with them.
“My name’s Carolyn, and this is Hammond.” We shook hands.
Hammond had long hair pulled back in a pony-tail, and rings in several places on his face. Carolyn had shorter hair, all curly.
“My name’s Khyber.”
“Winsome’s hungry,” Carolyn said. “We’re trying to get money to buy him some food.”
“I have some food,” I said, digging out one of my sandwiches. That still left me with one for X. “It’s peanut butter and corn syrup. Is that okay for dogs?”
“At this point, he’ll eat anything, but we don’t want to take your lunch.”
I told them not to worry about that. Carolyn took the sandwich and divided it into three pieces. I don’t know who ate the fastest.
“You’re hungry, too,” I said.
“We just got into town yesterday,” Hammond said. “We hitchhiked here from Sault Ste. Marie.”
I pictured the map of Ontario in my mind. “That’s in the corner of Lake Superior.”
“Smart kid.”
“I’m going to go there someday,” I said. “I’m going to go everywhere. I’m going to be an explorer.”
“I’m going to be a vet,” Carolyn said. “I like animals better than people — well, better than most people. Hammond is a poet. He’ll write poems about the animals I cure.”
“I know lots of animal poems,” I said. “Would you like to hear one?”
“Sure.”
I told them “The Owl and the Pussycat.” It’s loaded with animals. While I was saying it, a small crowd gathered. When I got to the end, where they dance by the light of the moon, everyone applauded a bit. Some dropped money in the little box in front of Carolyn.
Wait till I tell Tammy, I thought, and then I remembered what I was supposed to be doing.
“I’m looking for someone.” I described X. They hadn’t seen her.
I sat with them awhile longer. While I patted Winsome, they told me all about their trip from Sault Ste. Marie to Toronto, and I told them all about the Khyber Pass. I thought about singing them the soup song, but it made me homesick just to think about it. We talked and we watched people’s legs go by.
“I know where you can get a job,” I said. “You’ll get a meal out of it, anyway, if she likes you.” I told them about the Trojan Horse. “Ask for Valerie. She’ll be very rude to you, but don’t worry about that. Tell her I sent you,” I added.
I got up and said goodbye.
“You’re in some kind of trouble, aren’t you, Khyber?”
I nodded.
“The streets aren’t safe for you,” Hammond said. “They aren’t safe for us, and we’re adults. You’d be most welcome to hang out with us for as long as you’d like.”
“Thanks, but I have to find my friend.”
I gave Winsome a final pat, and started walking again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BENCH-SITTING
When I finally sat down on a bench at the Eaton Centre shopping mall, I thought I would never be able to move again. I’d gone on long walks before with Tammy and the twins, but I’d always known where I was going, how far away it was, and when I’d be home again. This time I didn’t know if I was nearing the end of my journey or I was just beginning.
I was hungry, too, and I kept thinking of that sandwich in my bag. Food was everywhere. People walked by me with ice cream cones, and I could smell hamburgers frying and popcorn popping. There were egg rolls, cabbage rolls, cinnamon rolls and rolls stuffed with ham and cheese.
There was food all around me, but I couldn’t have any of it. I wished, again, that I had brought my wedding money with me.
The mall was warm. I kept nodding off and waking up again with a jolt. I saw a security guard looking at me, so I hauled myself to my feet and staggered away.
I knew I should have been out on the street looking for X, but I was so tired, I stayed in the mall. I guess I was hoping that X would just walk by me, and then my search would be over.
I went from bench to bench, moving around every so often so no one would get suspicious.
This must be how X feels, I thought, always being watched, always being hunted. It was even worse for her. Security guards wear uniforms. You can spot them coming toward you in time to get out of their way. The secret police who were after X could be anybody.
I plunked myself down on a bench near the Queen Street exit. A woman on the other end of the bench was writing furiously in a notebook. I leaned over to see what she was writing.
“Hey!” she said, putting an arm over her work. “Are you trying to steal my idea?”
“No. I’m looking for someone.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Are you looking for someone, too? Who are you looking for?”
“Someone who will buy my script.”
“You’re writing a play? I was just in a play. I played an equilateral triangle. Would you like to hear my line?”
“No.”
“It was a pretty dumb play. What’s yours about?”
“It’s a movie script. It’s about a woman who’s an artistic genius, but she spends all of her time hanging out in a mall so no one will know she’s a genius.”
“Why doesn’t she want anyone to know?”
“It’s part of her genius.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I asked her if she’d seen X. She stopped talking about her stupid movie long enough to say she hadn’t, then went right back to her script.
She was still talking about it when I left her and went back to the street.
It was getting close to supper time. The sky was beginning to look like an evening sky.
The sidewalks were crowded. I walked down to Front Street and over to the train station. I’d be able to sit down there. Maybe X had the same idea. No one would pay any attention to a woman with a blue suitcase in a train station.
The Toronto train station is probably the best place in the city. There are huge stone pillars out front that you have to walk through to get inside. Even before you’ve gone anywhere, you feel like you’ve gone somewhere.
I go there as often as I can persuade Tammy to take me. You can go up to any ticket window and ask how much it is to go somewhere, and they’ll tell you. They’ll even tell you how long it takes to get there, and what cities you’ll pass through. I’ve never been on a train, and you can’t go up to the platform without a ticket, but when I finally do get to ride on one, I know just how it will feel.
The train station was packed with people rushing to catch their trains. Nobody looked happy, even though it was the end of the work week, and they were heading home.
I looked around for X, but I didn’t see her. After using the washroom, I went back outside.
I was tired and hungry. Yonge Street was so crowded that unless X passed right beside me, I’d never find her. It would help if I was taller. I could look over people’s heads, rather than at their chests.
A rooftop! That was it! If I could get up on a rooftop, I could check out a whole block at one time. It was worth a try.
In the alley behind Yonge Street, I spotted ladders att
ached to the backs of some buildings. They looked awfully high up when I looked at them from the bottom. I picked one and started climbing.
On the roof, I felt a million feet tall. The city was below me, all lit up. Leaning against the wall at the edge of the roof, I looked down at people who had no idea I was looking at them.
Across the street, outside the Eaton Centre, someone was playing the drums. Someone else was doing a magic show, and someone else was talking about hell through a loud speaker. It was a wonderful sight!
There were lots of people below me, but no X. If I hadn’t been hungry, tired, worried and scared, I could have stayed up there for hours, watching what happened on the street.
But I was hungry, tired, worried and scared, and being those things tends to take the fun out of whatever else you’re doing.
After a little while, I climbed back down.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BLUE SUEDE SHOES
I was pretty dizzy when I got to the bottom of the ladder. Not eating and not sleeping can make you dizzy.
I plunked myself down on the pavement between two dumpsters. The smell was horrible, but I was too tired to move again until I heard something rattle around in one of them.
Then I moved.
Night was falling. The streets were getting dark again.
I didn’t want to be noticed, of course, but I also hated it that nobody noticed me. Didn’t anybody care that an eleven-year-old girl was wandering around the city at night, all by herself?
People rushed past, busy with their own thoughts and plans and paying absolutely no attention to me.
I wandered into the army surplus store, but I left right away. It hurt too much to be there without my brothers.
I kept walking.
Tired of Yonge Street, I turned east and headed over to Church Street. It was quieter, and X probably would prefer a quieter street.
By this point, my brain was thick with exhaustion and hunger. Suddenly, without even thinking about it, I sat down on the step of a boarded-up shop, took out X’s sandwich, and started eating.
Looking for X Page 7
