Authors: S. E. Campbell
How to Get Dirt (4 page)
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The bed was soft. Too soft. Pickles was used to the rough coils of a hard mattress.
At five o
'
clock in the morning, she rolled over onto her side
. The clock appeared to be mocking her.
I won
'
t be able to go back to sleep now.
As she sat up, she rubbed the
tiredness from her eyes.
After struggling out of bed, she
pulled up the covers and neatened
them
. Afterward she
stared
at her book bag, which was filled with her notepads
along with pens
.
Intense fear, anxiety, and nervousness swarmed her mind.
She was fearful
about the new place, as well as
confused and excited
. The only
way she
could deal with that was by telling stories
. Once she was in the fresh air, she would have a much easier time with it
. She had develop
ed
the need to be in fresh
air while living
in the
noisy rooms of her old foster home, where she couldn
'
t concentrate no matter how
hard she
tried.
They won
'
t be up for a while
. Plus, it
'
s
not like anybody will be too concerned if I disappear for a few hours.
After frowning at the clock, she shrugged
.
I
'
ll just go outside. T
here
must
be a park
somewhere.
Pink and lavender wallpaper greeted her in the bathroom. The brilliant light gleamed off of gold fixtures. Pickles almost didn
'
t want to mess up the shiny white sink by brushing her teeth.
Once she was done, she
sneaked
down the stairs
to unlock
the front door and went outside.
She
inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of freshly mowed lawn and rain.
After releasing a sigh, she smiled
. It almost felt like the beginning of a new life. A beautiful life.
Her stomach bubbled with tingles of joy.
She skipped through the grass and then came to a sidewalk.
After following the sidewalk for a half an hour, she came upon a big,
quiet
park
.
A bright green bench sat next to an all plastic play park. The
place was still
. It felt like she was the only one in the world, which both comforted and saddened her at the same time.
After sitting down
and making herself comfortable,
she
pulled out a notebook and
a
pen
. A story flowed from her heart, a story about a girl with a wonderful new life with a family who loved her.
****
It was easy to lose track of time while daydreaming, so when she shut her notebook six pages later, she
didn
'
t know how many hours had gone by
.
Pickles
spotted a young mother with a child in a stroller a few feet away
. She
hopped
off the bench
and wandered over
.
“
Ma
'
am, what time is it?
”
The mother checked her watch.
“
It
'
s eight o
'
clock.
”
“
Thank you, ma
'
am.
”
Eight o
'
clock. Miranda and David
might
be up by now
. If
not, she
guessed she
could always read one of their books. She
raced all the way
back to the townhouse and
flung
open the door. When she got inside, all of the downstairs lights
blazed
and Miranda
stood
behind the kitchen counter, her face pale
.
Her knuckles were white where she clutched the
phone
to
her ear. David sat at the table with the phone book open in front of him,
his hands shaking
.
Miranda met
Pickles
'
eyes
with a relieved expression on her face
.
“
There she is
!
Oh, Pickles. Thank
goodness
.
”
Pickles
'
eyes widened in confusion as David rushed over
to grab her shoulders
.
“
Where were you? We woke up an hour ago and
saw you
were gone. Do you know how worried we were? Do you? Miranda was in the middle of calling the police.
”
Pickles was speechless. They cared enough to call the police just because she was gone for a few hours? She wasn
'
t sure what to say
because
the concept was so foreign.
Is this what if feels like to have people actually care?
Miranda rushed over, shoved her husband aside, and seized Pickles in a big hug.
“
Oh, Pickles. I have never been so happy to see someone in my entire life. I was
worried somebody
had snuck in
. What if somebody abducted you?
”
Guilt filled her
.
“
I am so sorry
.
”
Pickles shifted from side to side anxiously
.
“
I didn
'
t think about it. Nobody
has watched
out for me before, so when I woke up early and
saw you
were still asleepâ¦
”
“
So you went out like this all the time before?
”
David asked, his mouth dropping open.
“
Not when I was at the
home
with the other kids. They had security.
”
Pickles shrugged as Miranda released her.
“
But with my foster families, being outside was easier. I really, really am sorry. I didn
'
t mean to upset anyone.
”
“
Somebody should turn those people in for neglect,
”
David said, shaking his head.
“
She
'
s just a kid. Letting her go out on her own
â¦
Anybody could have gotten her.
”
“
It
'
s okay,
”
Miranda
said
,
ignoring
David
'
s rant and running her hand over
Pickles
'
head.
“
It
'
s just in this family, Pickles, we
believe in supervision
. You understand why we were scared, don
'
t you?
”
“
Yeah.
”
Pickles stared at her shoes.
“
You were scared because you thought I was hurt. I feel that way sometimes, about Prudence or about
Mrs. Beazley.
”
“
Well, at least you
'
re okay,
”
Miranda said,
“
but I want you to promise to never, ever go out without telling me or David again, even if you get up early. David and I both want to make
sure you
'
re
safe
. Part
of that means knowing where you are. I know this may be
something you
'
re
not used to, but I hope you understand.
”
Pickles nodded. The guilt grew worse, driven by desperation to please her foster parents.
“
I do. I do understand.
”
“
Good.
”
Miranda straightened up
then
shot David a relieved smile.
David
patted
Pickles on the
head
.
“
I
'
m glad you
'
re alright, Pickles.
”
The two of them walked into the kitchen
.
Miranda pulled out a large bag full of pancake mix and
a
carton
of eggs.
On the counter near the sink sat
a large mixing bowl alongside a fat package of chocolate chips
.
As
Miranda
set the eggs and pancake mix next to those, she looked up
and cocked her head.
“
Is something the matter, Pickles?
”
Miranda asked.
Pickles shook her head.
“
No, nothing is the matter. Justâ¦
thanks, for caring.
”
A smile crossed Miranda
'
s face
as
tears filled her eyes. She
turned
away
with a sniff
.
David had to finish the batch of chocolate chip pancakes
by himself
.
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The store was filled with clothes
.
Pickles hung back as Miranda pushed her way through them. After she had done this for a few minutes, though, Miranda
turned
and
peered
at Pickles
with
concern. Pickles forced a smile on her face.
“
What
'
s the matter?
”
Miranda asked, walking over with a red skirt in her hand.
Pickles shrugged
as she
caught sight of a price tag on a nearby pair of black pants. They were expensive. In her other homes, he
r foster parents had been spend
thrift
s
and had watched out for every dollar. Pick
les remembered eating large bowls
of noodle soup for a month straight. Yet here she was in a store that had pants priced at two hundred dollars. She didn
'
t need to be
told this
was a lot.
“
Isn
'
t that, you know, a lot of money?
”
Pickles asked.
Miranda frowned.
“
You have had
it tough
, haven
'
t you? You can
'
t even go shopping without thinking of adult things. You
'
re only
twelve
, you know. It
'
s okay to forget about money and everything every once in a while.
”
Pickles shrugged.
Silence swarmed the store. Somehow, silence could be more deafening than any loud sound.
Miranda grabbed her hand and started to drag her away from the store entrance. They came to the back, where the kids
'
section was.
Dresses hung alongside sparkling denim pants embroidered with feminine designs
.
“
I want you to pick out something,
”
Miranda said.
“
I don
'
t want you to look at the price tag. I don
'
t want you to
even
think about it. What is the one thing back
here you
want?
”
“
Butâ
”
“
Nope,
”
Miranda said, leaning downward
and placing a hand on her shoulder
.
The smell of her sweet fruity lotion wound around Pickles, adding to the embrace.
“
Just pick something. Don
'
t think, just pick.
”