Madeline
Angela huddled with her back against the cold brick wall. There was just enough overhang from the roof above her to keep her head dry from the pouring rain above. Her feet were just small enough to tuck in so that her feet stayed dry. If her feet had been any longer, she would have needed to slant her body and lean against the wall sideways to keep her feet dry. The alleyway smelled like human waste and garbage, but Angela could ignore the smell as long as she was dry. She would get used to the smell like she would get used to being on her own, she told herself.
Two days before, she had been under the roof of new foster parents, Sarah and Robert Earl. Upon arrival, Angela thought they looked like good people. Sarah was a little plump but she wore a big smile and seemed happy to bring fifteen-year-old Angela into their home. Robert also had a big smile on his face, but it wilted a bit. His large stature and his graying beard made him look less friendly to Angela.
They greeted her with open arms. Robert took the garbage bag she used as a suitcase and Sarah showed her around the house. She introduced her to their golden retriever, Glenda, and showed her to her room at the top of the steep stairs. They then left her to get acquainted in her new home.
Later that evening, the three sat down at the wooden dinner table. The dining room was directly off the kitchen and decorated in a pink and beige floral print. It seemed a bit detailed to Angela but she could not complain, at least this house had a dining room and she was welcome in it.
Angela looked across the spread of food. There was a whole roasted chicken that smelled of rosemary and sage, a bowl of garlic mashed potatoes, and steamed broccoli. Angela hadn’t eaten this well in a while and she heard her stomach growl at the thought of having access to all this food.
“Angela, would you like to lead us in saying grace on this special evening?” Sarah asked in her sweet high-pitched voice.
“I don’t really know how to say grace,” Angela said above a whisper. Jumping from home to home had made her come out of her shell a bit more than before, but the shyness was in her bones.
“It’s easy. Just thank Jesus for everything, including this meal.”
“Okay,” Angela swallowed. “Dear Jesus.” She started. Although she had been in religious homes before, grace was not something they had ever asked her to lead. “Thank you for everything, including this meal. Amen?” The Amen came out as a question rather than the end of the prayer.
“Is that it?” Sarah looked at Angela with raised eyebrows. Angela thought of how to respond and gave one nod of her head. She didn’t know what else she should add. “Very well then,” Sarah looked annoyed, “next time, maybe say a little more. Maybe explain how grateful you are to be taken in by a loving couple, a roof over your head, and fed.”
“Oh, okay,” Angela said with a tight-lipped smile. “Next time I will say more.”
“Very well, shall we eat?” Angela looked at Sarah, smiled, and nodded. Angela reached out for the mashed potatoes sitting directly in front of her.
“Oh, no!” Sarah exclaimed, grabbing the bowl of potatoes. “This food is for adults. Let me get you your child’s plate.” Although technically she was a child, Angela didn’t think of herself that way. Not after needing to raise herself, and sometimes, other children.
When Sarah returned, she laid a plate in front of Angela. On the plate were the organs from the chicken, boiled potato skins, and a piece of stale bread. Angela nodded her head, she knew better than to make a fuss.
“How was work today, dear?” Sarah asked Robert as she took her own seat and served herself.
Angela took a bite of one of the potato skins. It was soft but lent little as far as taste. It was bland. She looked over the chicken organs and picked one at random. She didn’t know which organ it was but knew it wasn’t the heart, as the heart was also laying on her plate. She knew it was the heart as it looked just like a small human heart Angela had studied in school. She took a small bite and swallowed her gag for a response.
“Manors girl!” Robert erupted toward Angela. Angela nodded. Her only hope of getting through this meal was to stick to the bread. Although it was stale, it was only a day or two past its prime and was much more appealing than anything else on her plate.
When they had finished their dinner and Angela helped clear the table, Sarah glanced at Angela’s plate. “Ungrateful mooch” Sarah said as Angela stood feet aways.
Later that night, Angela brushed her teeth with the new toothbrush Sarah had provided her. She turned off the light and climbed into bed. The day had felt long between the traveling and the getting settled into a house she was unsure of.
As she was drifting off to sleep, Angela suddenly woke to heaviness on the mattress next to her. Although there was no light in the room, she could see a man’s figure. She froze making out the facial features in the moonlight as Robert’s. She didn’t know what to do and decided it was best to not let him know she was awake.
He stroked her cheek. She had pulled the thin blanket all the way up only allowing her face to poke out. He pulled the blanket down. Angela screamed and kicked him as hard as the blanket allowed her.
Sarah came charging in turning the light on to brighten the room, “What is the meaning of this?”
Robert was now in a standing position. “I just came to check on her and she screamed and then kicked at me. This child is an animal.” He stormed out of the room. Angela clung to the blanket as if it could protect her.
“Is this true? You are such an ungrateful little monster,” Sarah said.
Angela knew she could never be happy in this home. Between Sarah’s inability to think of her as a human and Robert using his foster child for his own benefit, Angela knew she had to leave.
Angela didn’t sleep well that night. Her mind was going through her options. One, she could stay, but then she risked being starved and possibly raped every night. Two, she could call child services and have them place her somewhere else. But that some place else, she had learned from her time in the foster system, was rarely much better than this. Or three, she could try to make it in the real world by herself. She didn’t know what that meant exactly, but she had a good idea that this was something she was capable of. It wouldn’t be easy, but she could figure it out. She practically raised herself.
There was a knock on her bedroom door as the sun was coming up. Sarah walked in, with a jacket slung over her arm and a scarf around her neck.
“I am heading to the bakery this morning. When I get back, be ready for Sunday church. Robert is here, but he’s in his workshop in the garage. Don’t bother him unless you need to.” Without waiting for Angela’s response, she left the room, and shortly after, Angela heard the car roll down the driveway.
Since she had just arrived the day before, there was not much to pack. She grabbed the garbage bag she used as a suitcase and left through the front door. There was classical music coming from the detached garage. She kept one eye on the garage, trying to keep an ear out for any noises above the violins, as she walked past.
Angela kept walking. She made it into the closest town and found a dumpster behind a Chinese restaurant, where she found a perfectly good box of Chow Mein noodles. Her stomach growled from her bare meal the night before. She devoured the entire box as quickly as she could, grabbed her stuff, and kept moving.
She kept walking. The towns seemed to blur together. She didn’t know which town she was in or how many she had walked through. All she knew was the further the walk, the less likely she was to get caught. Her Converse became uncomfortable, but she didn’t care. The pain was not as important to her than her motivation. She was not sure what she was looking for but felt she would know it when she saw it.
She felt a drop on her cheek and looked up at the sky. A big thunderhead was heading toward her. And this is where the first meeting with Angela began, against a brick wall trying to stay dry. Sleep fell over her. She was tired from walking and not sleeping. This was the first opportunity she could sleep since she left the Earl’s house. And since she was not going anywhere soon, she took advantage of it.
When she woke, the rain had stopped and the sun was out. She felt hungry until the smell of human waste hit her nostrils again.
She stood up, wobbling a bit, and rubbed the back of her neck with one hand and her trash bag hung from the other. She continued in the same direction until her hunger pangs came back. She had been successful with the Chinese restaurant dumpster. There was a sign for “Luigi’s Italian Food” up ahead of her and figured she could try to find a decent meal in the dumpster there.
She walked to the back of the restaurant and dropped her garbage bag on the ground next to the dumpster, opened the lid, and jumped in. It was a sea of black bags inside. The first bag she opened smelled of rot and seemed to contain a slime that was not edible. If she was trying to be sanitary, she would have washed her hands but that was the last thing on her mind.
In the corner of the dumpster a pristine brown bag stood out among the sea of black plastic. Angela swam her way over to it and opened it. And inside, she could see stacks of cash.
Without a second thought, she jumped out of the trashcan, stuffed the bag in her trash bag, and looked for a safe place to count the money. She couldn’t enter Luigi’s in case they had spotted her. She kept walking in the same direction.
She saw the golden arches and knew what that meant. Once she knew what was inside the pristine bag, she could then go inside and eat a proper meal while safely deciding her next move.
She found herself, again, behind the restaurant and huddled down between the building and the dumpster. She opened the pristine brown bag. And she counted. When she was done, she pulled a crisp $100 bill out and stuffed it into her pocket. She closed the bags the best she could and entered the restaurant. Her stomach gurgled.
She ordered two Big Macs, a large fry, and a twenty-four pieces of chicken nuggets. She found a booth in the corner and placed her trash bag beside her and her tray on the table. She couldn’t think on an empty stomach. Once she finished the first burger and half of the fries, she could now think. What was she going to do with the money?
She knew she didn’t have many options, being a runaway minor. But money, money could be her freedom. All she needed was a plan. She picked up another fry. She found her freedom and her freedom tasted like salt, fried potatoes, and a new start in life.
