Free Beneath a Meth Moon by Jacqueline Woodson Page B

that was strange—all the rain falling and the only thing protected from it was his hat, his long black coat left to soak up all that water.
    Ladies’ shelter no more than five blocks from where you’re sitting,
he said, holding the dollar out to me a minute longer. I didn’t reach for it. I wasn’t stupid enough to take money from a cop that way.
    I got a home.
I stared straight up at him, trying to see past those dark shades, that plastic-covered hat.
    He nodded.
Yeah. And I got a million dollars.
You need to get somewhere, because this rain’s not stopping anytime soon. Calling for more coming—maybe even some flooding—and you’re already shivering.
    I pulled my arms tighter around me and closed my eyes hard, my breath coming fast. The flood coming again, and me with no place to go. The flood coming, and where was Daddy and Jesse Jr.? Where was everybody? The water was rising up, and this time it was gonna get all of us.
    Help me,
I whispered, pressing myself into the building behind me.
Help me . . .
The cop hunched down closer to me and lifted his shades, water dripping from them, from his plastic hat, from everywhere. I couldn’t move. Where could I run to if the water was already here?
    Please . . .
His eyes got soft when he looked close at me.
    Jesus!
he said.
You’re a kid!
He looked at me a moment longer.
Didn’t you used to cheer for the Tigers?
he asked real slow.
Over in Galilee?
    I kept looking away from him.
    My God! You’re Charles Jesse Daneau’s girl, aren’t you?
    I scratched at my face. It was hot suddenly. Itchy.
    He pulled out his phone and started dialing.
    You remember my son, Bernie? Point guard. You must know him. Jesus!
    I got up slow, ready to run, but Bernie’s daddy put his hand on my shoulder, hard. Holding me there. Each breath I took was filled with water. I was already drowning. Already sinking.
    I remember your hair,
he said, holding the phone to his ear with his other hand.
Nobody could miss your hair.
He looked at me hard for a long time.
Your daddy and brother been sick to death over you. Got the whole church praying you come off this stuff!
He turned away from me, speaking fast and quiet into his phone. I heard him say
Daneau’s girl.
I wanted to try to run again, but hearing him say my daddy’s name like that took every bit of energy out of me. I felt my stomach turning over. There was nothing in it, but something bitter was moving up to my throat. Bernie’s dad let go of my shoulder for a moment to push his shades up, then quick grabbed me again. He had Bernie’s same hard jaw.
My God
, he said.
How did this happen to you?

the missing
    BERNIE’S FATHER called a police car in from Galilee and put me in the backseat when the two cops showed up. The car was warm and smelled like coffee. But the rain was slamming against the windows, and I had to close my eyes tight to keep it away from me. One of the cops said,
You hungry?
and I shook my head no. I heard the other cop say,
Meth is food, clothing and shelter to these kids, you know that.
    I pressed my hands hard against the seat, trying to keep my whole body from twitching. My head hurt with all the things running through it. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten a meal. The Heath bar I’d had at lunchtime was still turning around in my stomach, and I prayed that it wouldn’t decide to make its way back up inside the car. And now, with the storm coming . . . what did M’lady and Mama eat before they died?
    Bernie’s dad went around to the front and said something to the driver. I opened my eyes to see both cops nodding at him. Bernie’s dad waved to me as we pulled away, but I didn’t wave back, just closed my eyes again, waiting for the water to come.
    Your daddy meeting you at New Sunrise,
Driver Cop said.
This your first time there?
    What’s that?
I said.
What’s New