“I see one!” she cried out.
“Where?” Verna slammed on the brakes, throwing Angel and Bernie forward against their seat belts.
“There—beside the Buick.”
“Huh. That ain’t wide enough for a kiddie car.”
But just then a rusting Pontiac behind them on the other side of the lane began to back out. Verna threw the gears into reverse and screeched back to claim it. “C’mon,” she said, hopping out. “We’re late.”
“I—I gotta put on my sneakers.”
“For crying out loud, Angel. You had all morning. Hurry up.”
She hurried as fast as she could. “Okay, Bernie,” she said, unbuckling his seat belt before opening her door and jumping to the pavement. “Out.”
But Bernie had that stubborn look on his face. “I’ll give you money for a pack of M&M’s if you just come on in.”
She could see him weakening, but he still wasn’t moving. “And a Pepsi,” he said.
“Okay.”
“And potato chips.”
“No.”
He folded his arms across his chest.
“Oh, Bernie. I’m not made of money. Just come on.”
Verna was already across the lot. When she reached the door to the building, she turned and yelled, “You kids don’t get over here this minute, I’m taking a belt to the both of you.”
Bernie scrambled out. Did that mean Angel still owed him the bribe? Oh, well, she’d have to worry about that later.
TWO
The Saturday Visit
Verna was signing in at the window when Angel and Bernie pushed open the heavy front door. “Bout time you two showed up,” she said. “Honestly.” The woman on the other side half stood up from her chair to peer down over the sill at them. It made Angel feel like she was standing there in her underwear. Too late, she remembered that she hadn’t brushed her hair. Not that it mattered. It was ugly hair, dirty blond, straight. She’d cut it herself a couple of weeks ago.
Finally, Verna put down the ballpoint and jerked her head at the children. She shoved her shoulder against the inner door, and the three of them crowded through it into the room and toward the metal detector.
“Purses here,” ordered the guard. “All your metal in the tray.” Verna handed over her cracked vinyl bag. Angel took the key from around her neck and dropped it into the plastic basket, hoping Verna wouldn’t ask her why she was wearing it when it wasn’t even a school day, but Verna wasn’t paying attention. She was pushing Bernie through the detector ahead of her while the guard did a thorough search of her purse.
Angel followed. The alarm screamed. “Okay. Just a minute, girly. Empty your pockets.”
“I don’t have any pockets.” Her voice was trembling. “See.”
“Well, you got metal on you somewhere. Go back. Take off your shoes and hand them here.”
The coins in her socks. She’d forgotten about them. She took the socks off, too, and held them out to the guard. He screwed up his face and sniffed. The socks were dirty from when she’d run across the yard. “I got some money in my socks,” she mumbled, hoping Verna wouldn’t hear.
“You what?” the guard asked loudly.
“Money in my socks,” she said miserably.
“Well, get it out and put it in the tray. Jeez. It ain’t as if you people don’t know the drill by now.”
Verna stood on the other side of the detector, squeezing Bernie’s arm and looking like a wasp about ready to sting. As soon as Angel got through the detector, Verna grabbed her arm, never letting go of Bernie’s in the process. She pushed both children ahead of her through the series of metal doors that opened before them and closed after them on the way to the visitors’ room. “Ouch,” said Bernie. “Leave go of me. Ouch.” He swatted at Verna with his free hand, but their mother just tightened her grip until even Angel wanted to squeal out in protest. She was already humiliated enough, walking barefoot down the corridor and now standing just inside the door of the big room with her shoes and socks in her hand. She didn’t need to have everybody see her being dragged by her mother and shoved around like a disobedient cat.
The light in the room was always so bright that she had to blink to keep her eyes from smarting. “Find us someplace to sit, Angel.” Verna let go of Angel’s arm and pushed her forward into the room.
Other families, the ones that had gotten here on time, had already claimed the tables scattered about the room. She squinted, looking for vacant chairs. Mostly she saw people. Maybe fifty, maybe more. It was hard to tell. They were different sizes and colors, but most of them, especially the women, wore the same sad, tired expression. There were guards all around, making sure none of the visitors were passing drugs or anything else illegal to the inmates. You could pick out the inmates pretty quickly. Nearly all of them were young. They looked more angry than sad. It was summer, so most of them had on cheap jeans and T-shirts. The man nearest her had tattoos up and down both of his skinny arms, like he was trying to be a he-man. He turned around and glared at her. She moved on, making her way through the maze of tables surrounded by gray, unhappy people.
At the far corner of the big room she found two chairs and put a shoe with the sock stuffed in it down on each of them. Her mother was checking in with the attendant, but when Verna looked up, Angel waved her over.
Verna was still holding on to Bernie. Angel barely managed to pick up her shoe before Verna plunked him down on one of the chairs. “For chrissake, Angel, put on your stupid shoes.” She handed Angel the other offending shoe and sock, then sat down herself.
Angel backed over to the wall and slid down to the floor. She was about to pull on her first sock, the change jangling away, when she realized she was being stared at. She looked up into the face of a little boy who, standing up, was just a little taller than she was sitting down.
“You ain’t got no socks on,” he said solemnly.
“And you got a great big boogie hanging out your nose!” she said fiercely.
His eyes widened in fright.
“Boo!” she said right into his face. His mouth twisted, but before he could begin to cry she whispered, “And don’t you dare cry! Or I’ll get you good!”
He turned and fled.
She should have been ashamed. If anyone had tried to scare Bernie in that room, she would have gone after him. But she couldn’t help it, she was grinning like a jack-o’-lantern as she finished tying her laces. She stood up, but she stayed against the wall until the guard brought Wayne in and led him over to where Verna and Bernie were sitting. Then she made herself join them.
She’d always thought of her daddy as tall and sort of handsome, but today he seemed shorter than she remembered. Or maybe she was getting taller. Wayne was wearing his long-sleeved plaid shirt. He had tattoos to show off, if he wanted, but once she had asked him about the needle tracks and he’d never worn a T-shirt or anything short-sleeved since. “Hi, Daddy,” she said.
“Well, there’s my angel girl,” he said, smiling at her. There was something wrong about his smile. Angel couldn’t figure it out, except that the smile didn’t come from the inside. It was more like someone just twisted up his lips from outside. “You doing good at school?” he asked.
“School’s been out for weeks, Wayne. You know that,” Verna snapped.
“You lose track of time in here, but you wouldn’t know about that.” He turned from Verna to Bernie, bending down to try to see Bernie’s face. But Bernie was watching his toes swing back and forth so hard Angel could hear his heels banging the chair rung. “Bernie, my man, how goes it?” Bernie didn’t even look up.
“Get off that chair, Bernie. Angel, take him somewhere else. I got a few things I got to say to your daddy without...”
Angel grabbed Bernie by the hand and started across the crowded room to the opposite corner, where some charity group had put a few worn books and discarded toys for the kids who had to spend their Saturdays in jail.
“Ow,” said Bernie. “Quit pulli
ng on me. I’m tired of you and Mama yanking me around. Yank. Yank. Yank. That’s all you ever do.”
“I’m sorry, Bernie.” She really was. It wasn’t any life for a little kid. He was barely seven. He’d been coming here since he was less than a year old. He couldn’t remember anything that had happened in his life before. She wrestled a toddler for a truck, and, when she and Bernie had both sat down on the floor, she gave it to her brother. He still liked playing with trucks. The toddler wailed briefly, but soon began to fight another toddler for a car with only three wheels.
“I hate it here,” Bernie said, pretending to drive the truck in front of his crossed legs. “I don’t know why we have to come all the time.”
“’Cause he’s our daddy, Bernie. It would just break his heart not to see his family. It’s the only thing keeps him going in a place like this. You gotta know someone cares about you, or you just give up.”
“Well, I don’t care about him,” Bernie said, pushing the stupid little truck hard into Angel’s shin, daring her to ignore the metal bumper cutting into her flesh. “I hope he just gives up.”
“Oh, Bernie, you don’t mean that. I know you can’t remember. You were only a baby when he left, but he is your daddy. When he comes out...” She moved her leg back a little.
“I hope he never comes out,” said Bernie, attacking her shin once more.
“Quit it, Bernie. That hurts.”
“I know,” he said.
She wrenched the truck out of his hand. “If you can’t play nice—”
“Go say goodbye to your daddy.” Verna was standing above them.
“Is it time already?”
“Way past time. You, too, Bernie. Give him a hug.”
Bernie didn’t give Wayne a hug, but if saying goodbye meant getting out of there, he was more than glad to obey.
“Bye,” he said and bolted for the door.
“Goodbye, Daddy,” Angel said. She gave Wayne an awkward hug under the eye of a guard who was making sure she wasn’t passing anything to him in the process.
“Bye, angel girl,” he said. His face twisted like the face of the little boy she’d scared earlier.
“I’m leaving, Angel.”
“Okay, Mama.” She tried to smile at Wayne. She didn’t want him bawling like a kid in the waiting room. She’d seen other men do that, and it was like watching someone take off all their clothes in public.
“Well, that’s that,” said Verna when the three of them were back in the truck. “That’s the last time you’ll ever have to visit this hellhole again.”
“Is he coming home?” Angel asked.
“Nope. He says they might let him go out on a work crew, but he says a lot of things.” Verna started the engine and began to back out of the slot. They were past the outside gates and on the road to the apartment before she spoke again. “Soon as we get to the house, I want you kids to pack up your stuff. We’re moving.”
“Yippee!” Bernie bounced up and down as high as his seat belt would allow. “Yippee.”
“My sentiments exactly,” said Verna. “It’s well past time for me to put Wayne Morgan behind me and get on with the rest of my life.”
“You mean I don’t never have to come to jail again?”
“Never,” Verna said, patting his bouncing legs. “Never! Never! Never!” Bernie sang out, throwing both arms in the air like a football player after a touchdown.
If you wish on a star, your wish comes true. Always. Angel felt sick to her stomach.
THREE
“The Bear Went Over the Mountain”
Hurry up, and I mean both of you. I swear, sometimes you kids act like snails on Valium....Get a move on, will you?”
How could Angel hurry? She stared dumbly into the closet. Verna had said she could take only what fit into the green plastic suitcase that Welfare had given her last year so she wouldn’t have to carry her stuff around in a garbage bag. She turned to look at the suitcase gaping open on the couch. It seemed to shrink between glances. A garbage bag would have held a lot more stuff. She put her winter jacket into the suitcase. There was hardly any space left. She took the jacket out. Even though it was August, she would have to wear it. She sure wasn’t going to leave an almost-new jacket behind. Someone might steal it.
She had to take Grizzle. The huge blue plush bear was the last present Daddy had given her before he went to prison. But she couldn’t close the lid with Grizzle inside. She’d have to carry him. He was the only one of her animals she cared about. Sweat was breaking out on her forehead as she pulled out both of her drawers and dumped the contents on the couch beside the suitcase. She should leave behind the clothes she hated and those that she was about to outgrow, even if she still liked them, like the Disney World T-shirt with Goofy on it that Verna had bought at a yard sale. Most of her clothes were getting too small and went back into the drawers.
Underwear. She would have been glad to leave most of that behind, but even if it was holey, she supposed it was necessary. Shoes. She looked at the pairs lolling against each other on the closet floor. Well, she could wear the one pair of sneakers that fit. Her sandals were too worn to bother with, and she hated the red plastic dress-up shoes, which pinched anyhow. Dresses. She had two and she hated them both, but if she didn’t have at least one, Verna would be sure to yell at her. Not that they’d be visiting Daddy wherever they were going. Where were they going? Maybe to Florida, where it would be warm all the time and all you needed was shorts and T-shirts. Florida. That’s where Disney World was. She imagined Verna taking her and Bernie to Disney World. Bernie might be scared of some of those rides, but she wouldn’t be. She’d ride everything there, including Space Mountain, which was liable to kill you if you had a weak heart. Hah! It wouldn’t bother her a teeny bit.
She put the Disney World T-shirt back in the suitcase. She just might need it. Sweaters. Well, if they were going to Florida, she probably wouldn’t need any. Still, Verna hadn’t really said anything about Florida. She’d better take a sweater and a sweatshirt. She had a purple one that said BEN AND JERRY’S, which was almost big enough for her, so she stuffed it in. Bernie would like it when she really outgrew it.
Verna stuck her head in the door. “I’m telling you, Angel, quit dreaming and get on with it!” She disappeared across the hall into the bedroom she shared with Bernie.
Even from that distance Angel could hear Bernie whining over everything Verna was packing for him. “Shut up, Bernie. No, you can’t take your bed. It belongs with the apartment. There’ll be another bed in the new house. Now shut up.”
The apartment looked like a hurricane had ripped through it. There was stuff thrown in every direction. Angel stood in the kitchen, waiting for Verna, who was still fighting with Bernie. Now it was over his tricycle. “It’s broke, and there won’t be no place to ride it anyhow.” Was that a clue? There wouldn’t be sidewalks where they were going? Maybe a beach. That was it. Florida was nothing but one beach after another. She’d never seen the ocean. A beach, wow! She was roasting in her winter jacket, sweating, and clutching the huge bear and the suitcase. She was afraid to put anything down to open the door for fear Verna would make her leave it behind. Why were they leaving so much behind? Sure, the furniture came with the apartment, but the TV was theirs. She was sure it was, and at least some of the pots and pans. Verna hadn’t made any move to pack up the kitchen.
“Are you going to lug that stupid bear?” Verna asked, coming into the kitchen. She was dragging Bernie with one hand and carrying a large brown plastic suitcase in the other.
She put down the suitcase to open the back door. “Leave the suitcases for me. You get your brother and yourself into the truck,” she ordered. “I’ll be right there.” With that, she let go of Bernie’s arm and left the kitchen.
Angel was afraid Bernie wouldn’t follow her out, but he did. He was whimpering, but he’d given up the fight over his broken tricycle. “I hate her,” he said when they got to the truck. “She’s mean.”
/> “No,” said Angel. “She’s just...’’Just what? She wanted to stick up for their mother. Kids needed to love their moms no matter what, but she didn’t know how to say it right. “You heard her, Bernie,” she said, opening the passenger door. “Get your butt up into this truck. Now.”
She had them both buckled in, Grizzle lying wideeyed at their feet, when Verna came out of the house. She locked the door behind her, let the screen slam, and threw the suitcases into the back of the pickup. When she climbed into the driver’s seat, she looked much less grim than she had all day.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s get outta here.”
Angel was desperate to ask where they were going, with just two suitcases and an oversized bear for the three of them, but there was something inside her that really didn’t want to know the answer.
“Angel won’t let me sit by the window,” Bernie said as Verna cranked the balky motor.
“Oh, let him have the window, Angel.”
“He always puts his hand out. It’s dangerous.”
“Don’t put your hand out, okay, Bernie?”
“Okay,” he said.
Angel made the change and buckled them both up again. “Mom, you ought to wear your seat belt.”
“Yeah, sure,” said Verna. “You’re a regular little highway patrol, aren’t you?” But she buckled up. At last the truck motor caught. Verna pressed the gas pedal and made the engine roar a few times before she shifted into reverse and backed out of the driveway. “Say goodbye to Misery Mansion, kids.”