Dinner is served in the commons. The younger kids, aged from five to ten, eat first. The older kids get an extra hour of reading or craft time and eat at 7:00. Maddie is almost eleven and for the last two months she’s been allowed to dine with the older group. Tonight she sticks with the kids. There are fifteen gathered around the tour different tables tonight, most of them regulars who’ve been in and out of the Home for the last couple of years. There are no new kids this month. Typically there’s a new kid every month or two, even if they are only at the home for a few days, and before and during dinner the staff make them play social games to help get everyone to know each other. Tonight, it’s pretty quiet. It’s Taco Tuesday and most of the kids are focused enough on eating their food. Plus Auntie Elba is next door in the Staff Lounge having a late dinner, and everybody can tell she is still mad about what Maddie did.
Maddie sits at a small table across from Michael who has his sleeve raised and is showing her the purple bruises running up his arm.
“How come you aren’t afraid of him Maddie?”
“Because I’m a girl.”
“Yeah. But he can still hit you.”
“Yeah, but he won’t.” She gently pokes his bruise to see how it feels. He cringes and lowers his sleeve.
“Why is he always beating everybody up?”
“I don’t know. I think maybe it’s because of his name.”
“But that’s not our fault he has a stupid name.”
“I know, but when I first came here, when I was five, and Felix he came here around the same time, he was like twelve, and the older kids were always making made fun of his name. I remember at lunch one time, somebody squirted mustard on him. And after that, it became like a game for a while.”
“Didn’t he get mad, or tell the teachers.”
“No. He was shy then. And little. Not much bigger than you. I guess he was hoping he would just get adopted and could leave.”
“What happened to the other kids who were picking on him? Did they ever get in trouble?”
“Yeah I guess, But after a while they all got adopted. Everyone except me and Felix. And it seems like every year since then, he just gets meaner and bigger.”
He stops fussing with his arm, and stands to take his plate to the counter. “Didn’t anyone try to help him?”
Maddie shrugs and takes his plate from him, placing it over her own. “Someone tried. But he didn’t want their help. I don’t think it would have helped anyway. Go get some desert. I think it’s Jell-o.”
Michael bounds from the table heading for the crowd at the desert table. “Oh boy! Seconds!”
Maddie sees Mustard as the older kids file in for their turn. He gives her a dirty look and she just ignores it, like he was the younger kid. She’ll just let him get bored with her and go back picking on new kids. Besides, she doesn’t think he really hates her. The two of them have been at the Home for so long, they are practically the only real family they have.
She decides to stop by the Craft Room. Miss Penderson is in there sweeping up glitter and paper scraps from the floor. The room is normally closed for use after dinner, so she explains how Mr. Loomis had told her to get some art supplies make her new room more pretty for visitors tomorrow. She guesses Miss Penderson doesn’t know about the roof yet, because she asks why Maddie was moved to another room.
“Oh I got in trouble for trying to stop Mustard from beating up one of the new kids again.”
“Well Maddie, it sounds like you really need to start letting the adults handle Felix. I think it will be better for everyone if you just ask for help next time.”
“I know, Miss Penderson. Can I get a pen from the teacher’s desk? It’s for a project I’m working on.”
“You can’t use one of these out here?”
Maddie shakes her head. “They’re too messy.”
“Alright. If your promise to bring it back tomorrow.”
Maddie smiles and goes to the desk at the back of the room .Miss Penderson is sweeping again, which is good because Maddie doesn’t really want the pen. She takes it anyway because she doesn’t want to be a liar. But she also takes a small flashlight from the desk and a few coins from the ceramic ashtray some kid had made many years ago before Maddie or Mustard had ever arrived there. She sticks them under her shirt, and presses a handful of string, tape and construction paper against it to hide the bulge.
She waves the pen as she leaves. “Thank you Miss Henderson. I’ll bring this back in the morning.”
She gets back to her room and closes the door. It’s a little cooler in the new room but a warm draft is coming from the vent next to the bed. She has an hour until lights out, enough time to start her new project. She kneels on the floor next to the bed, and spreads her supplies on the stiff blanket. She peers down into the vent on the wall next to her, even turns on the flashlight and tries to shine it inside. But it’s too dark, and the slats of the vent too close together to see anything inside. She sifts through the loose coins, scoops up a quarter, and presses it against one of the screws holding up the vent. It’s too big for the groove, so she tries a nickel, a dime, and finally a penny, which slides neatly into it. She twists with both hands and after three turns, the screw falls out. Placing it carefully on the bed she then unscrews the second, the third, and finally fourth, then swings the vent open, revealing a dark crawlspace-sized shaft inside.
“Cool!”
She shines the flashlight in again, this time illuminating a few feet of dusty metal. It is warm and musty-smelling inside and reminds her of the memory she has of crawling though the big storm drain outside her home when she was just four years old, with her older sister, or maybe a friend—she couldn’t remember anymore. She just remembers they were older than her and that were afraid of the dark and wanted to turn back, but that she didn’t. She can hear a slight humming sound thinks she can see some light far ahead in the tunnel. An hour to lights out, May as well see where it goes.
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