I heard a cracking sound, and the next thing I knew, the corroded metal of the garbage can began to collapse and I fell to the ground. I lay on the ground for a moment, the way my father had taught me to do when I fell. "Make sure you're not hurt before you move," he had told me. When I sat up, I saw my legs were bloody. The thug was standing over me frowning. He had permanent frown lines between his eyes, and he was taller even than my father.
He looked behind me, and I saw another man approach. I felt sick to my stomach.
Then Silly ran up. It was a regular convention! "Hi, Uncle Barry," she said to the man who'd just arrived. Her uncle looked down on me and helped me up. He was wearing a real button-up shirt, and he held himself with a kind of pride.
"Are you okay?" asked Silly's uncle Barry.
The thug said, "What's going on here?"
"They're just little girls, Dick."
Dick scratched at a bite on his cheek. "Well, get them out of here."
Barry took our hands and led us away from the plant.
Silly said, "This is my new friend Katie." He stopped and shook my hand, just as if I were a grown-up. "Nice to meet you, Katie."
His button-up shirt made me feel I should be very polite. "Nice to meet you, sir."
Then he let go of my hand, and he and Silly got into his car. I watched them drive off. Her uncle's car was pretty nice. It looked like it was only a couple of years old.
Back in my mother's car Sam shunned me for a few minutes because I had left him alone. But he never stayed mad for long. He was little Mr. Sunshine. That was why I loved him so much. Dick the thug had paused by the building, watching me. I locked the doors.
Over the next few days Silly tried to work as fast as she could so she had time to come out and talk to me. We shared our rice balls and seaweed with her, and she shared sandwiches with me and Sam. The bread on the sandwiches was kind of amazing. You could tear out the white middle section and press it into a hard ball of dough before you ate it. Or you could twirl it into long strings and wrap it around your tongue. Sammy had never seen bread before. He loved it.
It turned out that Silly's father had died shortly after she was born. Her uncle—her father's brother—was like a father to her. Her uncle had owned a sign store once, but it had gone out of business. Silly needed to work to help pay for her school clothes. In her spare time she also helped her mother fold union flyers.
She made me feel lazy. I did manage to clean up after myself a little, but other than that I didn't do much of anything except take care of Sammy. The area around my bed was the messiest part of the room, except for the area under my bed, which was even worse. Every time it was my turn to do the dishes, I always had an excuse—or else, if Lynn felt well, I let her do them for me. And yet my parents could afford to buy me my school clothes.
Silly and I exchanged phone numbers. I promised her she could use Lynn's bicycle and we would go riding. She was the only kid I knew who did not even own a bicycle!
chapter 9
Lynn got better and didn't get sick again for so long that I figured everything was fine. My parents still kept a careful watch on her, but even they seemed more relaxed. On my eleventh birthday I got to invite Silly over. I was so excited, I didn't even mind that my mother let Lynn invite Amber over for my birthday. I baked a cake, which was lopsided but tasty, and Silly and I spent the whole day calling ourselves the Shirondas and singing and dancing wildly to the radio. We made up special dance steps and pretended we were on The Ed Sullivan Show. Amber acted like we were stupid. She tried to get Lynn to think we were stupid too. But Lynn thought we were "too cute for words." That was her new phrase for me. She and Amber walked around with their heads held high. They didn't even need books on their heads anymore. They just naturally walked like that! Amber was mad because she wanted to go down to the schoolyard in case any cute boys were hanging about. But my mother said Lynn had to stay home because it was my birthday.
So they just sat in the living room and held their heads high while Silly and I danced. Then Silly and I told ghost stories. Then we dressed up Sam in funny clothes until my mother scolded us. Finally, we went outside to wait for Silly's mother to pick her up. I walked to the street with her to help her carry her water jugs. She lived in an area just outside of town where many people did not have running water, so whenever she came over, she filled big jugs to take home. I asked my mother to come outside so she could bring a jug too. She frowned but agreed. I knew she'd frowned because water didn't grow on trees.
We sat on the front stoop. Across the street some grown-ups sat talking and laughing. Some kids from another apartment played kickball in the street.
Silly's mother, Mrs. Kilgore, drove up and got out of her car. She and my mother nodded politely at each other and tried to think of something to say. Mrs. Kilgore was a no-nonsense woman. She didn't believe in small talk. She looked at my mother and said, "There's a union meeting next Wednesday at the church on Frame Street."
"Yes," said my mother coolly. My mother was scared the union supporters would get them all fired, even her. She wanted a house, and she didn't care if she couldn't use the bathroom during work or if her fingers were so stiff that she couldn't move them when she got home. If that's what a house cost, she would pay the price.
"The meeting's at seven thirty in the evening," said Mrs. Kilgore.
"Wednesday evening is bad for me," said my mother.
They left then. "Mom, why is Wednesday bad for you?"
"That woman makes too much trouble." My mother pulled me down on the stoop beside her. I thought she was going to tell me Silly couldn't be my friend anymore, but instead, she took my face in her hands and frowned. "Did you want to grow your hair long again?" she said. I'd expected her to say something more serious, but I didn't know what.
For a while she'd given my hair a permanent every few months, but something about the permanent solution made my hair fall out. So now I was back to pin curls every night. "I hate pin curls!" I said. She didn't answer. The day was fading into evening. There were no streetlights, but the street was lit by the lights from the apartments and from a motel down the way, the sign flashing on and off, on and off. m-O-t-e-l, in aqua neon.
"Your summer school teacher said you got a good score on your achievement test."
"Yeah." She frowned, and I said, "I mean, yes."
"Nobody understands why you don't get better grades." "I'm trying."
'Your father is very disappointed." That surprised me. I didn't think my father was ever disappointed in me. She patted my knee and stood up. She had always seemed younger than the other mothers, partly because of her size, but also because her face possessed a childlike quality. But tonight she grunted when she stood up. And even in the dim light, her face seemed older than it had even the previous month. I remembered the white hairs I'd seen. She opened the door and I followed her in.
That night I tried to concentrate on my homework for Monday, but it was boring. We had to read a story about a man who discovered a secret treasure. He bought lots of nice clothes and ate fancy dinners, but he lost his most valued friends because he grew obsessed with his money. We were supposed to write three paragraphs answering the questions: What is the author trying to say by describing the expensive dinners in such detail? What is the theme of the story? How did the main character change at the end? It was a good story, and I liked it. But I didn't know how to answer those questions.