Back on the Map

by Lisa Ann Scott

  Or maybe she wouldn’t want to look at the stars. Mama said not to hope for too much, but did she ever have any big dreams? I’d give anything to know more about my family. More about who I am. Was my father a hard worker? Did he do great things, like the people on my family tree? Was he related to notable people? Or maybe he was a notable person, too. I crossed my fingers and hoped that someday I’d find out who he was and what amazing things he’d done.

  Getting a town back on the map would be pretty amazing, if I could do it. Neil Armstrong made it to the moon, I thought. Fixing up the Finest was practically no work at all.

  I pulled Mama’s letter out of my pocket and reread it to make sure I wasn’t breaking any of her rules by trying to fix up the Finest. The moon was bright enough for me to read by.

  Dear Penny,

  I’m sorry I won’t be there to take care of you and Parker. You’ll have to be extra strong now, and look out for your brother. Sometimes, the world is just too much for him. I suppose since you were born five minutes before him that means you’ll always be in charge. Sorry about that. Life’s not fair, best you know that now.

  I’ve managed to learn quite a few other things in my short time here, and I’m going to share those truths with you, so you won’t get hurt learning them on your own like I did:

  #1: Don’t expect too much from the world. That way, you’ll never be disappointed.

  #2: Don’t ask for help. We’re not a charity case.

  #3: You should never, ever have to ask someone to love you. I left my mama in charge of you two for now. My family promised to always take care of you when I’m gone, so you won’t have to go into the system.

  Know that I’ll always, always, always love you two.

  Mama

  I folded up the letter. Seemed like my plan was okay. I wasn’t going to ask anyone for help, not without offering a trade or something in return. I suppose if someone offered to help, that would be okay, since I wouldn’t be asking.

  I could do this.

  I trudged up to the house, tired from the day. Before bed, I pulled out the family tree sheet from the drawer in my nightstand and studied it. I’d drawn the tree myself. The trunk was a little too wide at the bottom, and the branches were too straight to look real. Mama’s side only had a couple spindly branches on it, holding the few names of people I knew, mostly folks we had stayed with. I hadn’t bothered adding Nanny Gladys. She didn’t deserve a spot. The rest of Mama’s people probably didn’t belong there, either. They hadn’t wanted us. They didn’t keep us. Isn’t that what family’s supposed to do?

  But Daddy’s side was wonderful. It had lots of long, thick branches from top to bottom: Martin Luther King, Jr., the famous civil rights leader; Pocahontas, the Powhatan Indian woman who saved John Smith; Harriet Tubman, one of the leaders of the Underground Railroad; Gandhi, the peaceful protestor from India; and more. Most of the names came from the Notable People book. Grauntie’s encyclopedias had helped me choose other people, too.

  I grabbed the blue pen I used whenever I added a name and wrote “Sacagawea” on a new branch that I squeezed in between Rosa Parks and Thomas Edison. After tracing my finger over each name, I put the paper back in the nightstand. Then I pulled out a notebook that still had some pages left in it. I had to write a letter to the map company.

  Dear person in charge of deciding which towns get put on the map,

  My name is Penny Porter, and I live in New Hope, NC, which sadly has not been included on your map for years, not since New Hope’s Finest was set to open but didn’t. I think it’s important that you know we are fixing it up now and it’ll be open real soon, and since many people will want to come here, you should definitely put New Hope back on the map.

  Can you please write back and let me know when your new map comes out and if New Hope will be included? It’s real important. More important than you know.

  Please write back ASAP!

  Sincerely,

  Penny Porter

  I wrote the address on an envelope, folded the letter, and slid it inside. I fished a stamp out of Grauntie’s desk in the living room, stuck it on the envelope, and dropped it in the mailbox.

  Before going back inside, I looked up at the moon again. “Please let this work,” I whispered, hoping my wish would wiggle through that bright slice of sky to the part of the universe that made good things happen.

  CHAPTER 6

  Project Fix Up New Hope’s Finest was almost officially under way the next morning—but first, Grauntie had a chore list waiting for us on the kitchen table. Her writing was getting harder to read, and sometimes the things she wrote down didn’t make sense. But today she wanted us to feed the cat (that we didn’t have), clean the kitchen, and sweep the deck. I woke Parker, and we zipped through our work, then headed out with our trading cart.

  Glenda from the Lovin’ Oven took a plant in exchange for donuts and gave us bottles of water, too. Then, we walked to Chase’s house. I banged on his door. “Chase, come out. We’ve got an adventure lined up.”

  No answer.

  When Parker and I explored the woods or went junk picking, Chase always called it boring. He was the most bored person I ever knew. Yawned all the time. I’m not even sure what would make him excited. I banged the knocker again. “Come on, you’re going to like this.”

  Still nothing.

  “Think maybe he finally died of boredom?” Parker asked.

  “No, he’s probably just drained dry of color.”

  “We’ve got donuts!” Parker shouted, clutching the box against his chest.

  The door opened. “What kind?” Chase asked, his eyes half-closed.

  “The best kind, glazed. And you can have one as payment when you come with us,” I said.

  He looked at the box, shrugged, and stuck his thumbs under his overall straps. It was hot enough already that he hadn’t bothered wearing a shirt underneath.

  Next we stopped at Carly’s and found her sitting on the front porch, staring at something I couldn’t see. “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey.” Her feet hung off the porch swing, but she wasn’t kicking them back and forth like I would’ve been if I were sitting on a swing. How anyone could sit perfectly still on a swing was beyond me.

  “We’ve got the biggest adventure ever planned, and donuts, too,” I announced. “Wanna come?”

  Carly shrugged and slipped off the swing. “ ’Kay,” she said, like I was suggesting we scrub week-old dirty dishes instead of taking on the most exciting project any of us had ever tried. “I’m going with Penny and Parker,” she hollered inside to her mother.

  “All right,” called her mama softly. Apparently, Carly’s daddy left New Hope after The Great Disappointment, even though her mama had just delivered Carly. Her mama left the door unlocked all the time, so he could get in if he ever returned. Maybe if New Hope gets on the map he’ll find his way back, I thought. Getting back on the map might help more people than just me and Parker. And that would be a good thing, because it felt a little selfish doing this only for us.

  No one said much as we headed down the street toward town. Birds chirped and cicadas buzzed, which reminded me how quiet New Hope really was. The asphalt stretched ahead of us, hot, dusty, and empty. No cars zoomed past. No one here had anywhere to go that was important enough to require zooming.

  “When do I get that donut?” Chase asked.

  “When we get to our destination,” I explained.

  “Which is?” Carly asked.

  “The biggest, best thing we will ever do.”

  “Doubt that,” Chase said.

  “Penny, I won’t be any help,” Carly said. “I’m not good at anything.”

  “Now that’s just not true,” I said. “Wait till we get there. You’ll be so excited.”

  No one said anything. I’d heard enthusiasm was contagious, but not in New Hope. We tramped along until we got onto Main Street and stood in front of New Hope’s Finest. I parked our cart and spread my arms wide. “H
ere we are.”

  Chase looked around, his big blue eyes narrowing. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve got permission to fix up New Hope’s Finest so a new buyer will open it and we can get New Hope back on the map,” I explained.

  “Fix New Hope’s Finest?” Chase repeated. “Boring.”

  “Oh! It was going to be a giant playground.” Carly stared at the building looming over us. Blinking, she bit her lower lip, and her color bloomed. Carly’s hair was a beautiful chestnut brown when she was in full color.

  I didn’t want to see her color drain, so I didn’t mention that the mayor said it was going to be a ballroom and Grauntie said it was meant to be a snow globe display. “Let’s go see,” I said. We ducked under the chain roping off the gravel road that led to the entrance. It was a hike up the hill. When we got to it, the fence was higher than our heads. I gulped, imagining what might be back there.

  The padlock lay on the ground, so the gate was easy to open—I just had to slide the latch to the right and then swing open the two big wooden doors. The sun slipped from behind a cloud, like it finally wanted to watch what we were doing. But it blinded us, and for a moment we couldn’t see anything.

  When it went away and everything came into focus, we were speechless.

  “Oh. Wow,” Parker finally said, looking around.

  Chase groaned, and Carly sighed.

  “Can you believe this?” I shouted. “It’s amazing!”

  “Amazingly horrible,” Chase moaned. “You said this was going to be fun.”

  I shot a nasty look at him. “It will be. It’s like a giant trading shed. Look at all these treasures!” I spun around, taking everything in: mounds of old tires, boxes of junk spilling over, old bicycles, busted TVs, and even a car—a rusty old VW bug. A feeling like electricity tingled through me, filling my head with dozens of ideas.

  “Penny, there’s too much!” Chase groaned.

  Apparently Chase had forgotten about my talent for finding homes for castoffs.

  “We’re supposed to clean all this up?” Carly asked.

  “Ugh. Why?” Chase asked. “How?”

  “I don’t know. Give it away? Sell it? Make stuff out of it?” I closed my eyes and stuck my arms out, letting the current of ideas flow through me. I popped one eye open. “Don’t you feel it?”

  The three of them shook their heads. “Feel what?” Parker asked.

  “Excitement. Energy. Ideas!” I hollered. “Close your eyes and hold out your arms.”

  They did, so I closed mine again, too. “What do you feel?”

  “Depressed,” Chase said.

  “I feel tired,” Carly said.

  With a sigh, I opened my eyes.

  Carly and Chase plopped onto their bottoms. I walked over and pulled them both up again. “We can do this!”

  “It’s a dumb idea. We can’t fix this up,” Chase said. “No one can. Let’s go home.”

  I closed my eyes and pictured my family tree. Who could help me right now? I snapped my fingers. “Doctor Carlos Juan Finlay.” I had known he’d come in handy someday.

  “Huh?” Carly said.

  “He was a doctor from Cuba who believed this horrible disease, yellow fever, was transmitted by mosquitoes. But no one believed him. They teased him and called him the Mosquito Man. It took twenty years for him to prove he was right. He’s on my family tree, so I’ve got some of his perseverance in me. No matter what anyone says, or what mean names they might call me, I’m going to make this happen.” Pride swelled in me. I am the descendant of a famous researcher.

  “It’ll probably take us twenty years, too,” Chase said.

  “How do you know he’s on our family tree?” Parker asked.

  “Just a hunch.” It’s possible our daddy was Cuban. I wondered if Dr. Finlay had had a case of the freckles like me. Too bad he hadn’t found a cure for that.

  Parker shrugged and started organizing things into piles.

  I walked up to the building. It was three stories high and made of brick, with ivy growing up the side of it. It was the size of three or four big houses. Boards were nailed over the windows. The giant metal front door must’ve looked awfully scary to the orphans when they first came here. The rusty iron fences that stood on both sides of the building had probably protected vegetable gardens once—though the little patches of ground behind them now held nothing but weeds. A gust of wind swirled past us, and the building seemed to moan. No wonder some people said it was haunted. “Let’s check it out, guys.”

  Carly and Chase froze, and Parker stopped his work. Slowly, they joined me on the porch, where we stood in front of the door.

  “What do you think is in there?” Chase asked. “You don’t think there are really ghosts, do you?”

  “Do you think there could be animals?” Carly asked.

  “Or ghosts?” Chase asked again. “I hope there aren’t ghosts.”

  I opened the door and peered inside. “Nothing’s in here. It’s totally empty.”

  We walked into the building. Our footsteps echoed in the hallway, which led to a set of stairs in the middle and big rooms on either side. There was no carpet and no furniture. Nothing but spiderwebs and dust. Parker coughed, then pinched his nose, but I didn’t smell anything.

  I did feel something, though, and it wasn’t scary. It was exciting, like I’d been running and laughing. Like a party was about to start. My heart felt twice as big, and my fingers twitched with excitement. I looked at my feet to make sure I wasn’t floating. How could an empty building have that effect on me?

  We went through a doorway to another empty room in back. The walls looked gray, but I figured they must’ve been painted white once. We climbed a set of stairs and found a bunch of empty rooms. Another staircase led to a third floor with even more rooms, just like the ones on the second floor. As we explored, that weird feeling only got stronger.

  “I bet there were going to be toy displays up here,” Carly said. “In all the kids’ old bedrooms.”

  “No way. My dad told me this was going to be a natural history museum, with dinosaurs and fossils and stuff,” Chase said. “Probably each room was going to have a different animal in it.”

  “That’s dumb. The rooms aren’t big enough for dinosaurs,” Carly said.

  They kept arguing until I said, “Guys! It’s nothing now, and it won’t be until we fix it up. So let’s get to work.”

  We went downstairs and opened the door to a basement.

  “No way am I going down there,” Chase said, scampering out the door with Carly and Parker on his heels.

  I peered down the stairs. I couldn’t see much, but there was a big empty room off to one side, and old equipment and boxes on the other. No need to work down there, especially with no light, I thought. I shut the door and went outside, the humidity hitting me like a wall after the coolness inside the building. “Let’s get to it.”

  Parker, Chase, and Carly stood outside, waiting for me to tell them what to do. We started off rolling all the tires into one pile, then went through the boxes of junk and separated those into different sections, too: old tools, broken appliances, plastic stuff, and miscellaneous items.

  A few hours later, we’d eaten all the donuts and drunk our water, but we were hungry from the hard work. A bathroom break would be nice, too, I figured. Wasn’t sure the ones inside would work.

  “Let’s trade for some lunches,” I said.

  “And we all need work gloves,” Chase said, looking at Parker’s with big eyes.

  “Come on!” I shouted, thrilled we were really doing it. We were fixing up the Finest. Everyone in town was going to be so excited.

  CHAPTER 7

  We stopped at the diner first. The sounds of clattering pots and pans came from the kitchen, drowning out the lively music on the radio.

  “Penny, dear, are you all here for lunch?” Mrs. Carlson asked with a smile.

  “Yep!” I pulled my trading cart to the counter. “I made a few new crit
ters last night that I think you’ll like.”

  She came over and set her hand on my shoulder. It felt nice. Too nice.

  I stepped back.

  She folded her hands in front of her. “Of course, we can trade if you like.”

  I nodded. “Excellent. See, we’re busy cleaning up New Hope’s Finest, and we got hungry—”

  Mrs. Carlson’s smile withered away. “What do you mean by ‘Cleaning up New Hope’s Finest’?”

  “The mayor said I could, so we can get someone else to buy it and get New Hope back on the map.”

  Mrs. Carlson turned away from me. “That place is cursed,” she whispered in a soft, sad voice. “Best you leave it alone, before something else bad happens.”

  “Cursed? Why? Did another terrible thing happen there, besides the investors leaving?”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it, shaking her head.

  I bit my lip. How could I explain to her that something bad would happen if I didn’t fix the Finest up? That Parker and I would get bounced? It was too hard to explain. “But it’s been sitting empty for so long. Someone’s got to do something.”

  She wiped down the counter without looking at me. “We’ve been ignoring it for years. Don’t see why that has to change. Now, what can I get you to eat?”

  I couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Just a turkey sandwich, thanks. Choose what you’d like from the cart in exchange.”

  I wandered outside to take another look at the Finest. It was just down the road from the diner. Sure, it was big and empty and old, but I couldn’t believe this building could cause so many bad feelings. I didn’t feel that way about it at all. I was still brimming with excitement about the whole thing. I went back inside, confused.

  Once we were settled at the counter and eating our sandwiches, Mr. Carlson came out. “What’s this I hear about you cleaning New Hope’s Finest? That’s not going to sit well with most folks.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “We’re turning it into something new.”

  “People get set in their ways, get comfortable with the way things are. And that’s a big undertaking for you kids.” Mr. Carlson said the word “big” like it was a mile long. He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “What a shame it became a dumping ground, when it was supposed to be an art museum.”