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She shook her head. “No, if I’m going to convince them, I have to go alone. If you were there, it wouldn’t work. Besides, it’s a ways off. Bus fare. I only have enough for one of us. That’s me.”
“I thought we decided we were going to stick together. Look out for each other.”
“I know. But this is for Ozzie. You go to school. Talk to some kids. See if anyone can help. But I’ll go see my friend, and I think it will work.”
“I don’t like you leaving.”
“I know. But it’s going to be okay.” Then she leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. Go to school. Be good. I’ll be here when you come out.” She started to walk away.
“But tell me where you’re going,” I said.
She didn’t stop. “I’ll be back,” she said. “Then we’ll get Ozzie.”
If she hadn’t seemed so certain, so positive, so upbeat, I wouldn’t have let her walk away. And then she was gone, and the bell was ringing. I tried to keep my mind locked on the light at the end of the tunnel. Freeing Ozzie, moving on to…I didn’t know what.
I tried talking to a few kids about “borrowing” some cash. I explained about my dog. I thought people would care. But I’d become one of those students who came to school every day looking ratty from sleeping on somebody’s couch or crashing wherever they could. Kids like Ethan and Emma March and Mackenzie. Like them, I was now trying to bum money from classmates. We’d all been observed and labeled and made fun of and, ultimately, ignored.
Even though my requests for money didn’t go well, I stayed focused on the positive energy I’d seen in Mac that morning. And the fact that she had kissed me. And that she was coming back. We would free Ozzie. I knew it. And so, strange as it may sound, I had a pretty good day at school. I wrote an in-class essay about a poem by Walt Whitman. I passed a history test, and I stayed awake through the day.
The bell was about to ring, and the day would be over. I’d be back with Mac. As I shoved my books into my locker, I noticed Davis Conlon sneering at me from across the hall. I ignored the creep. I was getting good at that. The girl beside my locker, Jenna, was talking to a couple of her friends. As I closed my locker, I said, “Hi, Jenna, how’s it going?”
She gave me a funny look, but she answered, “It’s going okay, I guess. How about you?”
So I decided to tell her about my dog problem. She and her friends listened. But I could see from their eyes that they didn’t believe me. When I got to the part about asking to borrow some money, one of the girls rolled her eyes. Jenna just said, “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe tomorrow.” But I knew she didn’t mean it. Then came the kicker. “Cameron,” she said, “I hate to say this, but man, you smell really bad. When was the last time you had a shower?” The other two girls giggled.
I’m not even sure she meant to be mean. But she was right. I stunk. And it hit me then just how far apart our worlds were, even though our lockers were side by side and we were in the same school. “I know,” I said, and I walked away.
As I made my way through the noisy afternoon hallways, I realized that I was different now from most of the other kids. That I’d maybe never be one of them again. No home, no bedroom, no parents to come home to. Yeah, I felt like crying. And I started to worry that something might have happened to Mackenzie. That she wouldn’t be outside waiting for me. Please God, please let Mac be there, I prayed silently. It was something I hadn’t done in a long time.
The sun was shining brightly on the snow outside. My eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the light. I took a deep breath of the fresh air and looked around.
And then she was there. Sneaking up behind me and putting her arms around me. “Surprise,” she said. I spun around. I smiled. I tried to kiss her, but she pulled away.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be. Look.” She had a wad of twenties in her hand.
“Wow. Your friend?”
“Yeah. Let’s go. Let’s get the bus. Let’s go free Ozzie.”
I guess I didn’t want to ask too many questions. Maybe there really had been a friend. Maybe it was something personal—an old boyfriend. I don’t know. I just knew we had the money and I should be happy. Ozzie saw us walking down the corridor. Deacon almost seemed glad to see us. “See?” he said. “Happy ending.”
In an empty lot in the industrial park, we let Ozzie run free and played in the snow. We threw snowballs, and he chased them. We pretended to chase him, and he ran in circles. And then we hitchhiked back to town, getting a ride all the way there with an old hippie in a van who told stories of “the good old days” all the way.
And we had money left over to crash at Eddy’s. Eddy seemed super happy to see Ozzie back. In the morning, he promised to stay “cool” and take good care of Ozzie while we went to school.
And yes, Mackenzie and I went to school.
Mr. Brewster called us both to his office from our first class. I thought we were in some kind of trouble. But it wasn’t that.
“Some of the students,” he said, “have expressed concern about the two of you.”
I assumed their concern was that we both smelled bad, but I didn’t ask.
“I had a meeting with the principal, and we thought we could help out a little.” He handed us some slips of paper. “Hang on to these. Take them to the cafeteria. You’ll get a breakfast and a lunch. No big deal. But it should help.”
“Thanks,” we both said in unison.
“And you’ll be allowed to use the gym showers.”
Maybe the stink had done some good. Maybe Jenna and her friends, or whoever, really did have some concern. Food and showers. Things were looking up. Maybe it was all coming together.
Chapter Fifteen
I badgered Mackenzie about who had given her the money to spring Ozzie. I wanted to know who it was and how we could pay this person back in some way. But every time I brought it up, she was quiet and mysterious. “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay,” she said. But there was something weird about it.
School was, well, school. But we were hanging in there. We had breakfast and lunch there, and the showers were great. Mac and I both found time to get our homework done during the day, and sometimes we stayed after school at the library to study. I was back to thinking about my New Year’s resolution. All I had to do was finish this year and get through one more, and I’d graduate. There was light at the end of the tunnel.
We’d given up panhandling on Spring Street. The cops there knew us too well. We’d been warned about getting arrested, and I was afraid animal control might show up and grab Ozzie again.
Mac had convinced me we shouldn’t work so close together. She said it drew too much attention. Instead, we worked a few blocks apart from each other and only after school and into the evening. It was getting warmer, but the rainy days were killers. And the worse the weather, the less likely people were to give us any change. I made a little cardboard sign that said Please Help Me Feed My Dog. Some people became “regulars” and would actually stop to say hi and pet Ozzie. But no matter how politely I chatted with people and how lovable Ozzie was, I always ended up with less money than Mackenzie. “It’s because I’m a girl,” she said. “People feel sorry for me.”
A lot of nights, I’d have only eight or ten dollars, and Mac would have enough to cover for me. She always seemed to have enough for us to crash another night at Eddy’s. Yeah, Eddy always wanted the money, although by now it seemed like we were part of his family. It was one hell of a weird family, but it was all we had. Ethan was there many nights, and he never wanted to talk about where he’d spent the nights he didn’t show.
Mac was late sometimes for our evening rendezvous in front of the coffee shop, but she always got there eventually. I guessed she kept panhandling until she was sure we’d have enough to crash at Eddy’s. Sometimes she looked tired. Sometimes discouraged. She never seemed to want to talk about her time on the street. I worried about her. I worried about us.
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“Maybe we can find some other place,” I said. “Some place just a little more sane.”
“Eddy’s is more than just a little weird,” she admitted. “But I think it’s all we have for now. Believe me, it could be worse.”
I remembered sleeping in the basement of the bakery and knew she was right. Two weeks later, just when I thought everything was going really well, a couple of girls at school started picking on Mac. Davis Conlon had started spreading a rumor that Mac was hanging out with Jenna’s boyfriend. He’d implied, of course, that it was more than hanging out. Jenna was one of those girls who’d had maybe twelve boyfriends in the last year. Her trademark move was to steal someone else’s boyfriend by having sex with him and then, as soon as she’d stolen him away, drop him like a hot potato and move on. She was a real piece of work. So now that it was rumored Mac had pulled the same move on her, she wanted revenge. Jenna didn’t even seem to care whether it was true.
I was headed toward the cafeteria to meet up with Mac when I heard Jenna screaming. By the time I got there, a crowd of students had formed a circle around them. Jenna was screeching at Mac, who was just standing there looking frightened and pale. I tried to push my way through to get her out of there, but Davis, the bastard, grabbed me from behind and pulled me backward. I tried to slug him, but as I turned around, I lost my balance and fell to the floor. Nobody tried to help me up.
When I got to my feet and pushed through the mob, Jenna was down on the floor and Mac was on top of her, delivering a serious blow to her face. A couple of Jenna’s friends grabbed Mac’s hair and tried to pull her off. She screamed and flailed out at them. All the while, the idiot crowd cheered and yelled. Someone grabbed me again and pulled me backward and onto the floor. Somebody else kicked me in the ribs. I was ready to start punching anyone who got in my way.
By the time I was back on my feet, Mr. Brewster and the school security guard had arrived. Brewster grabbed hold of Mackenzie and pinned her arms, then began walking her to his office. He was glaring at the other students.
I followed them to the office and barged in. Mac was in a chair, looking angry and ready to explode. Mr. Brewster didn’t ask me to leave. He just closed the door and sat down at his desk. I gave Mac a hug. She was tense and shaking with anger. “It’s going to be all right,” I whispered.
“No, it isn’t,” she said. “I’m never coming back here.”
Chapter Sixteen
Mr. Brewster listened to Mac’s story about what had happened and said he was sorry but had to at least give her a suspension. She just sat there silently and didn’t say a word in her defense. I tried to reason with Brewster, but he said his decision was final.
“The two of you head home for the day. It’s best to have you out of the building.”
“Sure,” I said. I stood up and tried to take Mac’s hand, but she pulled it back.
Outside the school, Mac was still shaking with rage. “Home,” she said. “Did you hear that? He knows we don’t have any home to go to.”
“This will all blow over,” I said.
“Cam, this is all your fault,” she said, glaring at me.
“No, it’s not.”
“Yeah, it is. You convinced me going back to school was the right thing. It wasn’t. You think stuff like that hasn’t happened to me before? I’m never going back.”
She stopped and looked at me. “I think I need to be alone for a while.”
She started to walk away.
“Wait,” I said.
“I just want you to leave me alone,” she said. And then she began to run.
I wanted to follow her, but I had seen something in her eyes. She was on fire with rage over what had just happened, and she was angry at the world. She was pissed off at me, even though it wasn’t my fault. I had to give her some space.
It was a long, hard afternoon and a worse evening. I looked for her everywhere on the streets. No luck. She didn’t meet me at the coffee shop that night and she wasn’t at Eddy’s at midnight. No one had seen her. I didn’t have Eddy’s twenty bucks. I’d only scrounged a mere nine dollars. But he let me stay. “Just this once,” he said. “And don’t tell anyone I’m letting you do this.”
The next morning I felt terrible. I was worried about Mac, and to be honest, I felt abandoned. What if she’d taken off to another city? What if she was gone, and I never saw her again? I had a big hollow feeling in my chest. It was like my heart was about to burst.
I didn’t go to school. Maybe I’d never go to school again either. Maybe my optimism about the future was a load of crap. I left Eddy’s with Ozzie, thinking that maybe I’d never go back there either, never spend another night sleeping on that hard living room floor.
Ozzie and I trekked all over the city. I knew it was hopeless. By late afternoon, I even thought about going to the police. I was worried something had happened to her. But I didn’t trust the cops. Maybe they’d see that Ozzie had no license and try to take him away. And I wasn’t sure there was much they could do. Or would do. I was on my own again.
By evening I had made a wide circuit around much of the downtown, and I was back on Spring Street. I didn’t have a cent and was prepping myself for a night at Hell’s Bakery. I was sitting on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop when a car skidded to a stop. The door opened, and the driver shoved a girl out onto the street. It was Mac.
Ozzie sprang away from me, and I lost my grip on his leash. I was getting to my feet as Oz leaped through the open door of the car. He lunged at the man’s arm and bit hard into the guy’s hand. I’d never seen Ozzie bite anyone before. As Mac lay crumpled at the curb, the driver struggled to get free of Ozzie. He finally managed to push him back, and the car began to move forward. The door started to swing shut. Ozzie hung on at first, but then the door hit him. He yelped and fell back. The driver sat up straight, and the car sped away.
I knelt down beside Mackenzie as she tried to sit up. She was crying, and her face was bruised and bleeding. It wasn’t just from being pushed out of the car. Pedestrians were stopping, and a woman stooped down to ask if we needed help. I hugged Mac to me, and Ozzie began to lick her face. “I gotta get you to the hospital,” I said to her.
“No,” she said.
“She needs to get to emergency,” I heard the woman say. “I’ve got a car close by.” As she leaned closer to Mackenzie, I recognized her as Ruth Goldbloom, the woman who had sometimes given me money and stopped to talk. “Can you walk?” she asked.
Mackenzie nodded. Mrs. Goldbloom and I helped her to the car as people on the street looked on.
“This is Mackenzie,” I said. “Thanks for helping.”
Mrs. Goldbloom gave me a soft but worried smile. At the hospital, she said she’d watch Ozzie for us. I guess there were a few Good Samaritans left after all.
In the emergency department, Mac was checked over and cleaned up. The doctor asked me to go, but I said I wouldn’t leave her side and so was allowed to stay. The doctor didn’t like it, but he didn’t push it. Mackenzie was complaining of a pain in her chest, and an X-ray was taken. It showed she had a cracked rib, but there was nothing they could do except give her pain medication. The doctor said, “You should spend the night in the hospital.”
“No,” Mackenzie insisted. “I want to go home.” It seemed odd that she had used that word again.
“First you’ll have to meet with a social worker. Maybe you’ll need to file a police report too. Stay here.”
When he walked away, Mac looked at the door. “We gotta leave. Now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I held her hand, and we got up and walked out of the examining room. The waiting room was filled with hurt and sick people, so no one seemed to notice us as we walked down the hall and out the door.
“What happened today?” I asked. “Who was that guy?”
“I can’t talk about it,” she said. “I just can’t.” And now it began to sink in. I knew what Mackenzie had been
doing these last few weeks. I knew what she’d done to bail out Ozzie and to get enough money for us to stay at Eddy’s. I shuddered. I squeezed her hand tightly.
Outside, Mrs. Goldbloom was walking Ozzie on the grass. She saw us and came over, deep concern on her face.
“Are you all right?” she asked Mac.
“Yes,” Mac said. “Can you give us a ride?”
“Of course,” she answered. “Where to?”
Neither of us had an answer.
Chapter Seventeen
As Mrs. Goldbloom drove on, an awkward silence came over Mackenzie and me. She looked frightened, and when I touched her, she pulled away. “I’m sorry I got you into this,” she said.
“You didn’t get me into anything. You helped me out when I was kicked out of my house.”
“I think I just want to go somewhere. Somewhere far, far away.” She was looking out the window, and I could feel that I was losing her.
She tapped Mrs. Goldbloom on the shoulder. “Can you pull over? I think I just want to get out here.”
Mrs. Goldbloom slowed the car.
“No,” I said. “Don’t stop.”
But she had already pulled over. Mac started to open the door, and I grabbed her. She winced from the pain. “Don’t go,” I said. “I won’t let you.” I could see she was determined to bolt. “Please,” I said. “Stay with me.”
Mrs. Goldbloom turned to her. “He’s right. Don’t go. I have someone I want you to meet.”
Mackenzie was in pain, and I wondered if we had made a mistake leaving the hospital. She slumped back in her seat. She still wouldn’t let me hold her hand. Whatever was about to happen, I was sure I was losing her. And that scared the hell out of me. I didn’t want to be alone.
Mrs. Goldbloom pulled back into the traffic. Soon we were at the north end of town. She stopped in front of a big old Victorian house with fading paint. “This is where my friend lives,” she said. “You’ll like her.”
Inside the house, in a long cold hallway, Mrs. Goldbloom introduced us to a large stern woman. “This is Margaret Sampson,” she said.