Middle Grade Sample: Maddie and the Magic Lamp

These are the first 30 pages of the second draft of my YA novel, tentatively titled, Maddie and the Magic Lamp. 

Maddie is doing something she is not supposed to do. She is climbing. She loves to climb. Especially trees. She’s climbed every one of the eight trees at Gladstone’s Home for Children and she’s gotten in trouble every time. Not serious trouble, just the kind of trouble that’s supposed to keep her from getting hurt. But she’s not climbing a tree this time. She’s climbing a rain gutter. She’s climbing it from the second floor window of Gladstone’s Home for Children to the third floor roof.

Of all the places she is not supposed to be, the roof is now her favorite. She can lie on her belly with her head on her arms and look down as the world spreads its secrets before her like toys on her bedroom floor. Buildings that once loomed in her window like strangers now gather around her as familiar as friends. People who before flittered in and of view, now reveal to her their secret trajectories as they journey on their way home, or to work, or the store, none of them ever knowing she is there.

Entranced by the view, Maddie follows the rhythm of lampposts and phone lines weaving from buildings and homes into forests of gold and red. She grips the ledge and dares herself to look further still, all the way to the old radio tower that stands high atop the hill line like a forgotten sentry, guarding the dim spires of the city that lie just beyond.

She clutches the ledge and finally returns to the view below her, finding comfort in the familiar site of the old man and his dog waiting at the bus stop across the street as reliable and familiar as the bench upon which they sit. Though her view sheds no new light, she still assumes he is from the retirement home down the street where she will live when she too is wrinkled and gray and hunched over to stay at Gladstone's any longer. She is going to live there because she feels comfortable with old people, more so than kids or adults, and because it is close to home.

She is not supposed to call it that. Though she’s lived here as long as she can remember, technically no child is allowed to stay at Gladstone’s longer than a month at a time. Over the last five years Maddie has lived in many foster homes, with many foster families. Some have been kind. Others not. In the end however, she always comes back. She’s been back for three months now. Not one new placement into a home not her own, nor another interview with parents she didn’t know. This time she is home for good. She knows this because she planned it that way.

A couple walks up the stairs to the main entrance. They are holding hands and look kind and young like how good parents should look. They will come in and talk to some child, someone young and lonely, and they will take them home and become a family. She turns away from the ledge and notices the small antenna rising from the top of the roof stairwell. A small pipe runs up its side, not much smaller than the rain gutter. She realizes it is the highest point on the building, high than she’s ever climbed before. Maddie loves to climb.

For over five years, Felix Mustard has been done his time held captive behind the walls of Gladstone's. One year away from aging out, he is the now oldest kid at Gladstone's, and the biggest, which pretty much makes him boss. He holds a new kid against the back of the dumpster, out of view from the rest of the courtyard though the other kids have all gone in for lunch. Despite being twice the kid’s age, Felix is passing on the rules of Gladstone's, the rules of life really, and the sooner the kid knows them, the better off he will be.

Felix punches the boy in the shoulder, “Who’s in charge?”

“You are!” The boy says, eyes pressed shut to hold back tears.

Felix punches the boy again, “Who are you going to tell about this?”

“No one!” the kid cries through clenched teeth.

Felix raises his fist, “What happens if you break the rules?”

“I get—“

“Punched!” Felix shouts in his ear, slamming his meaty fist into the kid’s bony shoulder.

He draws back for the last hit that he usually saves for the hardest to make sure his point gets across, but the kid is doing all right so far; most kids his age are usually bawling out loud by now, or trying to get away to tell. If the kid holds it together and answers right he’ll pull back on the punch and let him go. 

“What’s my name?” Felix demands.

But the kid hesitates. Eyes pressed tighter and he shakes his head.

“Say it! What’s my name!!” Felix says again, drawing back his arm this time for the full hit. He’s going to have to knock some sense into him after all.

 A sound explodes near his head, something hard ricocheting off the metal dumpster surprising him so much he almost lets the kid go. Stunned, ears ringing, he looks around, sees a lug nut land near his feet. He peeks around the dumpster, the courtyard empty. Another lug nut rings off the dumpster even closer and Felix drops low, raising his hands over his head as the kid scrambles away.

 “Leave him alone Felix!” Felix looks up against the bright sky, shocked to see a small figure standing atop the roof, arm poised high.

“Maddie, that you?!” He stands, lowering his arms, no longer frightened now but mad. “You throw one more of those things at me you’re next! You understand me? Don’t think just because you’re a girl--!”

 “I’m not afraid of you!”

 “You should be!”

 “You should bullying the other kids!”

“You should go to He—“

The third lug nut crashes against the dumpster so close it stings his ears. He ducks down, scooping one of the lug nuts from the ground, ready to throw it back when a voice booms across the courtyard and Loomis Dixon comes storming through the courtyard doors. “What in the world is going on out here!? Felix, what are you doing out here!?”

Maddie shouts down, “He was beating up Michael Winters!” Loomis’ head snaps up so fast she realizes it would have been smarter to slink away and let Mustard get in trouble on his own. Instead she steps closer to the edge and make herself as visible as she can. No point in letting the stupid bully think she is any more afraid of being caught on the roof than she is afraid of him.

“Little lady, you back away from that ledge right this minute and you stay there! I’m coming up to get you. And you!” he turns sternly to Felix, “You go right to the Director’s office this minute and wait for me there. Right now. Move it!” Loomis makes sure to give him a look of deadly seriousness before running back inside to fetch Maddie. Felix walks towards the door but stops as soon as the counselor is out of sight. He steps back looking up at Maddie unmoved from her spot on the roof ledge.

“You’re dead Maddie”, he shouts.

Maddie does the only reasonable thing she can. She throws the last lug nut at him.

Elba Ellensworth always insists the kids call her Auntie. Except at times like this. The Director of Foster Care at Gladstone's Home for Children clacks back and forth across the hardwood floor of her own office, her face starkly red against her luminous silver hair. Maddie sits comfortably in the visitor’s chair still warm from Mustard who had been sent to his room only minutes before. She hasn’t seen Michael yet, but he’s probably in the nurse’s office eating a cup of Jell-o, thanks to her.

“Never mind throwing rocks at other students, you could have fallen from the building and died, Maddie!”

“I wasn’t trying to hit Mustard. Just stop him. And they weren’t even rocks…” She begins to explain, feeling the other lug nuts she had tucked away in her pocket just in case.

“Be quiet!!” Elba’s outburst is so sudden that Maddie yanks her hands from out, almost dropping the lug nuts on the floor. Maddie looks over at Loomis for support, but he is staring at the floor as if he is the one in trouble. Elba storms back to her leather chair on the other side of the desk, collapsing into it and looking suddenly small against its high leather back. “Maddie, I need you to understand the severity of this situation. The tree was one thing, which we all though thought you had learned something from, but evidently not!”

But this has nothing to do with the tree. That was all about her hiding. She wasn’t hiding this time. She was just trying to help. “But Mustard was…!”

“This is not about Felix! We are well aware of the trouble he creates for himself and others. Unfortunately there is very little left we can do for him as he seems intent on finishing out his last year in Juvenile Hall. But you, Maddie, we still can help, and I will not stand to see you go the way of Felix!”

“But I’m not like him!“ Maddie protests, surprising even herself. If only she can explain herself everything will be all right again. If only Auntie will listen this time. She used to listen, before she became Director. Now even Loomis doesn’t talk to her like he did before.

The Director’s bracelets clink against her desk, as her fists ball tightly on the desktop. “We are moving you to another room, Maddie, closer to us. There will be no more disappearance acts or reckless stunts. You are on probation for the rest of the week while we assess what to do with you after that. And until you learn to resolve conflict in a mature manner you will go back to dining with the younger children.”

Maddie looks at Director Ellensworth, feeling deeply regretful not for the consequences, for she still didn’t see how she had done anything so terrible, but for how far away and changed Auntie now seems on the other side of the desk. Maddie tries to apologize, to find the fault that must be hers, to say whatever it will take to make them see she is still the same good girl she was she first came. She has to show them she is not Mustard. She doesn’t want to leave. This is her home. She’s worked so hard to stay. But why is it no matter how much she tries to do the right thing, she just keeps getting herself into more trouble?

She hides her face in her hands as she begins to cry. Strong arms wrap around her. She looks up expecting to see Loomis, but Elba is holding her, her chair empty and forgotten on the other side of the desk. Maddie wants to relax into those arms, sink into them as she used to, but not wanting to soil her blouse Maddie wipes her face. Elba pulls away slightly, holding Maddie at arm’s length. “We are trying to help you dear. Trying so hard, but there is only so much we can without your help.” She pulls a tissue from her desk and dabs the dampness in Maddie’s cheeks. “And I’m still Auntie, okay? Even when we,” she glances at Loomis, “Even when I seem angry. We love you child and we always will. Okay?”

Maddie nods, trying to smile, but the moment she was looking for is gone. Elba smiles and leans back against her desk as Loomis opens the door. Maddie looks once over her shoulder as Loomis walks her out, but Auntie has already gone back into the chair. When the door closes, Loomis squeezes her shoulder. “What say we get your things together and get you situated into your new digs?”

Maddie looks up at him, “I don’t want to move, Loomis.”

“One move at a time, okay kiddo?”

It doesn’t take long to clear her room since all that needs to be moved are her clothes and drawings. Everything else she has accumulated over the last five years either remains within the walls of those who once opened their doors to her, or lays boxed away in some forgotten corner of Gladstone's. Her clothes move neatly from drawer to box as easily as she moves from room to room or house to house. They barely fill cardboard box Loomis left for her. But the drawings take work. The drawings had been part of her plan. For the last three months she has worked to cover every inch of wall with drawing from her working sessions. They had come to form a second wall that could hold her there, making the room her own and no one else’s, and would keep her there until they were faded and yellow like the pages of dusty old books.

The many sheets of paper are so intertwined she realizes she’ll have to pull them in reverse order, from last drawing pinned to first. Finding the last one is easy: the drawing of the sun Loomis had shown interest in, a bright yellow circle with orange lines shining down on a tall building and three figures seated around it. She doesn’t know why it interested him so much, as different as it was from the other house drawings he liked so much.

She pulls it begrudgingly, ripping one corner right off. She stares at the torn sun still clinging to the wall, and in her hand broken lines radiating from nothing at all. She rips wildly tearing others from the walls, scattering bits of colored paper across the floor until she collapses to her bed, and screams into muffled darkness of her pillow. Calm again she goes back to the wall, carefully peels the torn corner of sun, smoothes it out with its other half and tapes them back together. The other pieces she collects in the small trash can and proceeds taking the other drawings carefully down, one by one, laying each atop the other in a neat pile, careful to leave her favorites on top so she can pin them first in her new room.

When Loomis returns to check on her the walls are bare, except for all the tape and pinholes that deckle the room like so many tiny scars. She looks around her at the room not so different than when she first moved in, no different in fact, making her realize how childish and weak her plans had been. How could walls of paper protect anyone when they come down so easily? She looks one last time out the window

They pass through the faculty hall on the main floor, one of the areas Maddie is least familiar with. They pass the faculty rooms where Elba and other staff members stay when they are on shift. The tile floor is cold to Maddie’s feet, her shoes in the box of clothes Loomis carries for her; a small favor to ease the transition, knowing how much she loves to experience the world through her feet.

Maddie expects the room to be some dark, dank dungeon, but finds herself in a space not much smaller than her old one, its walls white and clean. A staffer’s room, with a larger bed and grown-up furniture, there is nothing more horrible about it than being a lifeless box. And then Maddie realizes why it is so lifeless: There is no window. And no window means no sunlight, no moonlight, no escape. Instead all she has to look out of is a large vent set low against the wall opposite the bed like a cage door.

Loomis sets her box on a low bureau. “It’s not much, but should keep you out of trouble for a little while. Knock on wood.” He wraps lightly atop the furniture and smiles at her as though it was a joke they could share. But the room is barren and cold and heartless and there is nothing to smile about.

“It will look better when you put your art work up.” He gestures to the stack of drawings folded under her arm. She sets them on the bed, but there are not nearly enough to make the room hers. Not enough to keep her from moving again. Not ever. Loomis examines the top drawing.

“I think this is one of my favorites, Maddie.” He says looking at the colorful crayon drawing of a family standing in front of the house: a mom and dad, son and daughter sitting atop pink flowers and green grass, a yellow sun shining down on the house with long wavy lines. She put it on the top because it was his favorite.

“I don’t want to move in here.” She says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Does it scare you?”

She says nothing, looking at the low metal grate that staring at her from the wall like a giant square eye. Loomis spreads her drawings out on the bed, revealing many other colorful houses and families behind the first.

“Your drawings have changed a lot in the last two months. What happened to your older drawings?”

“I threw them away.”

“Why is that?”

“They felt sad.”

“Do these drawings feel happier to you?”

Maddie shrugs, not wanting even to look at them.

“Or do you draw them because I like them?”

She looks at him quickly but turns away feeling suddenly exposed like she is being watched. She looks down at the vent, wondering if something is watching her from the behind those long and narrow slats.

Loomis continues, his voice warm. “We don’t want you to leave, Maddie. We love you here. Very much so. But you deserve so much more than we can give you. You need a real home and a real family that will love you and you alone, and not fifty other kids who need help and attention.”

He puts the drawings back into their pile. “I wish I was here when you were first brought here Maddie, that I knew more about your life before this. But all I can do for you in this moment is help you move forward. Help you live with the things that scare you or make you feel sad so you can see they don’t have to be that way.” He looks at her, almost apologetically, tussles her short dark hair. “Clothes go in the drawer, kiddo. Get changed before you come down to eat. You smell like roof.”

Maddie nods, not saying anything. She is still fixated on the vent and whatever lies on the other side.

Dinner is served in the commons. Since turning eleven she’s been allowed to dine with older kids, but she is glad to be back with the younger kids as they more often leave her alone. No point to getting to know them since most will be gone within weeks, the rest within a month, others rotating in their place and even those who come and go like her will all disappear for one day as they find their homes or age out of the system.

 She sits alone in the corner with her back to the other kids noisily gabbing behind her. She chews a carrot stick and runs her hand through the assorted dry cereals, plain pasta and dry bread that fill her plate. She is not hungry and she will soon hide the rest of her food in her pocket so the teachers think she ate. As she widens her pocket looks for the opportunity, a kid drops down next to her, nearly causing her to spill her food on the floor. Realizing it is little Michael Winters she begrudgingly slides over to give him more room.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, sliding his Taco Tuesday platter of mini tacos, beans and tater tots towards her. She looks away, repulsed. Michael smiles and lifts his sleeve revealing a bruised shoulder. “They let me have extra tater tots. Pretty cool, huh?.” Maddie is tempted to touch them, but stops herself as he shoves a mini taco in his mouth and asks without pausing to chew: “How come you aren’t afraid of him Maddie?”

“Because I’m a girl.” She answers quickly. That was what Mustard’s excuse to her anyway. Today wasn’t the first time she tried to stop him from getting in trouble. And it wouldn’t be the last.

“Yeah, but he can still hit you can’t he?”

Maddie shrugs, finally decides to poke a bruise to see what it feels like. “Yeah, but he won’t.”

Michael jerks away from her, rolling his sleeve down. “But why does he beat everybody else up?”

Maddie looks over her shoulder to make sure no one else is listening, or thinking of coming over. She doesn’t like the idea of other kids wanting to sit with her now.

“I think it’s because of his name.”

“It’s not our fault he has a stupid name.”

“It’s not that. It’s what other kids used to do because of it.”

She tries to leave it at that, feeling like she has already said too much, like she is betraying some secret. Maybe she is since she is the only around who still knows. Michael stares at her, frozen in half chew.

Maddie groans and continues quickly, almost irritated: “When I was five and first came here, he came around the same time. I think he was around twelve or something. He wasn’t big or anything then, or mean like he is now. He was just shy. But all the older kids liked to make fun of his name. And one time, at lunch, somebody squirted mustard on him and everybody laughed. And it became a game for a while, someone trying to squirt him every day. The teachers finally had to put the all the mustard away.”

Michael’s eyes are wide, but he is chewing again. “Didn’t he get mad, or tell the teachers?”

Maddie pushes the dry cereal around on her plate. “I guess he was just hoping he would get adopted and leave.”

“Did the other kids get in trouble?”

“Some did. But after a while they all got adopted. Only Felix came back.”

“I don’t get it. How come he makes us all call him Mustard if he hates it so much?”

She doesn’t say anything and just watches as he stuffs the last mini taco in his mouth. When he finishes chewing, he asks: “Can I have the rest of your cereal?”

Maddie pleases the kitchen worker with her empty plate before she leaves. As the older kids file in, Mustard passes giving her a dirty look. She usually sticks her tongue out at him, but this time she ignores him. In spite of what happened she doesn’t want to make things any worse for either of them. If anything all she wants is to stop him from getting into worse trouble. Why was that so bad? Why can’t he just be good like her and let them take care of him? And after all her good intentions, how is it Felix hates her now more than ever and she is in just as much trouble as him? And to think, Auntie is afraid of her turning into him. They couldn’t be more opposite!

In the main hall she almost heads upstairs to her old room but remembers she is now on the main floor. Since she is on probation she is supposed to go straight back to her room after dinner, but seeing as how the Craft Room is on the way, she’ll just pop in for a quick stop.

The room is dark but the door is open. She turns on the light and hurries inside hoping no one notices. She rushes to the tall supply cabinet at back of the room. She looks among the art supplies until she finds the tape and box of pins. Spying the bag of dried pasta, she pops a few in her mouth to suck on and scoops out a handful. She moves to the teacher’s desk where the adult supplies are and she looks through the teacher’s drawers. She finds what she is looking for atop the desk and quickly tucks it in her pants. Then she notices the coins sitting in a crude ceramic ashtray some kid had made long before Maddie ever arrived. She picks out four coins, pockets them and looks out among the other drawings and craft projects that line the walls. Many were hers. But how long would they sit here before being taken down and replaced by others? How many times will she have to see her life taken down and stripped to bare walls?

She walks solemnly back to the door and is startled as Miss Devries suddenly walks in.

“Maddie!? What are you doing in here? The craft room is closed after dinner.”

Maddie tries to hide her surprise and shows her hand holding the tape and pins. “I know. Loomis, I mean Dr. Dixon, wants me to pin up my drawings in my new room. I just moved in and it’s, uh, kind of, empty.”

“It can’t wait until morning?”

Maddie shrugs, looking longingly at the tape in her hand. “The room is actually, kind of scary.”

The counselor considers and puts out her hand. “How about just the tape then?”

Maddie smiles and hands the box of pins over. “Thanks Miss Devries!” But as she tries scooting past, the hand doesn’t move.

“What’s in your other hand Maddie?”

She stops and looks down at her other hand still closed in a fist and slowly holds it out over the woman’s hand and lets the dried pasta fall out.

“You need to stop raiding the supply cabinet for your late night snacks, Maddie. This is for art, and it’s got to be just horrible for your teeth.”

“Sorry, Miss Devries.” She hurries past, slightly embarrassed at being caught, then bites down on the dry pasta shells softening in her mouth.

She closes her room door wishing she had the key to lock it. She thinks about simply barricading it but remembers what trouble that caused for her last time, how many talk sessions it took with Loomis before they trusted her in her own room again. Lights out not for another hour, she will just have to work fast. Time enough to start her new project.

She puts her drawings on the floor and lays out her supplies on top. The coins and the red plastic flashlight she took from the desk. Borrowed. She just wants to see what’s on the other side then she’ll return them. She kneels in front of the vent, trying to peer through the slats that are too narrow to see through even with the flashlight.

She spreads out the coins and starts with the quarter. She presses it against the tiny groove on one of the four screws holding the vent to the wall, but it is too wide to fit. She tries the nickel next also too fat, then the dime, which keeps slipping out. Finally the penny, and this time it fits! It takes her a lot of effort. She has to turn it with both hands, and it takes several turns. By the time she finally pulls out the last screw, her fingers are sore and her arms are tired. Excited and anxious, she swings the vent aside, revealing a dark crawlspace inside.

“Cool!” She shines the flashlight inside, this time illuminating a few feet of the dusty metal shaft. It is cool and musty smelling and reminds her of other spaces. Of something safe. She can hear a slight humming inside and imagines she sees a faint light far ahead in the tunnel. An hour to lights out. Might as well see where it goes.

Morning. She wakes up early, still excited and makes sure the crawl space is covered entirely with the dozens of drawings she had taped over it after failing to put the vent back in place. Her hands had been too tired to get the screws back in and finally exhausted, she slipped the grate under her bed and put up some of her drawings over it. Not bad all in all, at least until she gets her hands on a screwdriver. Her room even looks a little homier.

She remains on best behavior all day. She showers, thoroughly washing away the layers of tar and dust that caked her hands and knees. She eats a whole serving of breakfast though it almost makes her sick. She puts on her best clothes, pays attention in her studies, performs all her chores. In art session she draws even more homes for Loomis, though he doesn’t seem as pleased with them in spite of the extra colors or kids she adds.

He asks her to stop drawing and instead describe her idea of a perfect home. She would rather draw it. That’s what she thought she was doing all this time. She starts describing the home in her drawing, but he stops her and turns it over.

“Let me start with a couple of questions: When you think of a house, is it big or small?”

Maddie looks at the backside of the drawing, trying to remember what she drew.

“Is it a big house?” He asks. “With a lot of rooms?”

Maddie nods, trying to see it. “And small.” She adds.

“Big and small?” he asks.

“Yeah. Big rooms with small rooms in them.”

“And what kind of family lives in this house? A big family? A small family? Just a mom and dad?”

She thinks harder, wanting to please him though she isn’t sure what to say. “A mom and a dad. And a little girl.”

He begins writing on his own paper. “Any one else live in this perfect house?”

“A boy, brother.”

“Is he older or younger than the girl?”

“Older. And there is a dog. A puppy.”

He smiles, seeming surprised. “Just the five of them then, in this big house?”

“But other kids can live there too.” Maddie adds quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong picture. “Lots of kids can live there. The parents are really nice, even though they fight sometimes. But they love everybody, kids especially. Especially the dad. He would let anybody live with them in their house, even if they weren’t his kids.”

“Is that right?” he asks. She can’t tell if he likes this house, but it feels right to her. “He’s a good dad.”

He smiles but his expression shifts as he folds the paper and puts it in his shirt pocket.

“Maddie, two people are coming in to meet you today. I think you will like them very much.”

“Are they new counselors?”

“No, they are just nice people interested in getting to know you a little bit.”

“You are making me leave again!”

“No, not making you. Helping you. This is what all of our work is about.”

Maddie stares silently at the blank back of the page. Then looks out the window, squinting against the bright afternoon sunlight. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what Maddie?”

“Sorry about the tree. I miss it.

Loomis looks thoughtfully out the window to the empty courtyard beyond. “Do you remember why we cut the Mulberry tree down, Maddie?”

She bows her head and sinks lower in her seat wanting to sink all the way under the table. “Because I liked to climb in it and hide.”

“Well, that’s true. There were times you certainly kept us and the fire department busy. But that’s not why we had to cut it down.”

“Because the berries made a mess on the pavement?”

“Well, there’s some truth to that. They left quite a stain on your fingers too. But that’s not why either. Remember how it grew?”

He reaches across the table and pulls Maddie from her slump, positioning her hand on the table so that her fingers points out at a low angle. “It grew out like this. That’s what made it so fun to climb. Do you know why it grew that way? It couldn’t get enough light in the courtyard. There’s too much shade and the light only comes in over there by the side. Trees need light to grow, and when there is not enough light in their spot, they grow towards what they can find. Usually, the light is right up here, and trees grow up tall and straight and strong.”

He angles Maddies’ hand pointing straight up. “But that poor tree couldn’t get enough light, so it had to bend over and reach for it way over here.”

He presses her hand back into the low angle. “When a tree grows sideways like that, the older it gets and bigger it grows, the more at risk it is of falling right over. We are like trees Maddie. We grow healthy and strong where there’s light. But sometimes we have to bend over and reach in tiny places for light if we don’t have enough where we live. And if we grow that way long enough, eventually when we are older, we fall right over. What I want you to believe, is that there is light right up here, just waiting for you. This light is a real family Maddie, and all you have to do is just reach up and you will grow as tall and strong as the tallest tree alive.”

 “But I just moved into a new room. I haven’t put all my drawings up yet. And I’ll be good, I promise! I won’t climb or fight with Mustard.”

“I know you won’t Maddie. You have been doing great. I think these last two months have helped tremendously. That is why we think you are ready to talk to these people. They have been waiting to meet you for a very long time, but we wanted it to be right for you.”

“But what about us?”

“We will still work together for a while longer Maddie, but our sessions will be ending soon.”

“But who will help me then?”

“Your case worker, for one…”

“Auntie Elba?”

“No honey. She can’t work with you anymore. She’s Director now. But she has already done so much, giving us this extra time together. Do you remember what she said to you yesterday? About helping us? This is where we need your help Pickle. Meet these people. Just talk to them and we’ll see what happens after that, okay?”

She tries to nod, to tell him she will do her best. She holds herself, feeling cold and tired, too afraid to look at him. All she can say is, “Do you like my drawing?”

“I love it.” He says, flipping it over. “Can I take home with me?” he asks, holding it to his chest. This time she smiles, just barely.

They end a few minutes early. He lets her wait in the courtyard before her next workgroup, before the people come. She sits alone on the wide Mulberry stump wanting nothing more than to climb, to climb as high as she can, but suddenly even the roof doesn’t seem high enough anymore. The young kids clamor out on break, tearing across the courtyard for free play. She wants them to leave her alone, to find something else to jump from, but then Michael and another young boy rush over to her.

“Look Maddie,” they shout at her, pointing to the courtyard doors. “You did it! Mustard is getting arrested!”

Maddie stands up and rushes to the window, pressing her face against the glass to see inside. A tall policeman talks next Elba outside her office as they talk with Mustard. He looks scared and childlike next to them, like one of the boys he bullied. He glances up, seeing Maddie before being ushered into the Director’s office.

She runs back to her room, wanting to scream, to cry. It’s not his fault. It’s hers. And now they are kicking him out too, sending him to Juvenile Hall. Loomis can't’ see her anymore. Elba is too busy. They don’t want her and they are making her leave. They hate her. Hate her for all the bad things she has done. They are leaving her again.

She flings her curtain of paper aside and crawls into the duct, letting it fall closed behind her. She cries with her face pressed against her knees, until she hears Loomis’ voice outside her door and she freezes, holding her breath as he looks in the room, calling for her. She sees him in the doorway through the gaps between her drawings, but he doesn’t notice her there. He turns and rushes out.

She wants to hate him, but she can’t no matter how mad she is. She balls her fists and pounds them quietly against her knees. There is nothing left to do. Her world is crumbling around her. How could it be just a day ago, everything seemed so perfect, her whole life mapped out, and now everything is gone. Her stomach starts to curl into a knot and she feels like throwing up. The she freezes. Someone is standing in her room.

Holding very still again, trying not to move or breath, she moves her head just enough to see through the one of the gaps. An old man stands in her room, an old man and a dog. They stand there, motionless, just staring, stares at her drawings over the duct, staring past the paper, straight at her. He smiles and says, “Maddie.”

She flees down the duct, pounding on hands and knees, her panic echoing all around her. She scrambles past the point she was bold enough to venture to the night before and keep on fleeing, around one corner, around another, rushing blindly into darkness, scuffing her head, elbows and back against the hard metal sides of her cage until her heart is pounding, and ears deafened by the banging passage of her clumsy flight. And then she comes to an end, and collapses, huffing and wheezing. She lays still, legs cramped, palms stinging, splayed on the cold metal floor until her breathing slows and she is strangely calm again.

She doesn’t know how long she is there, but eventually begins can peer into the dark duct stretching behind her. Cramped and nearly stuck, she works herself into a tight ball and turns around, slowly, and quietly crawling back the way she came.