Chapter Seven

“Police! Wake up!”

I jerk awake, pulling the blankets away from Meg and banging my head on Ruby’s roof. Cold November fog wraps us together in a drippy white cocoon. Meg whimpers. I fall back and tuck the quilts around her to keep out the blast of icy air.

The dark shape of a man forms by Mom’s window. “Wake up.” He raps on the roof. “We’ve got complaints, people.”

Mom shoves aside blankets, books, and white plastic garbage bags. She cracks the window open enough to see the badge on the patrolman’s dark blocky chest.

“Police.” He holds his identification for Mom to see. “Officer Rodriguez, Ma’am.”

Mom slowly rolls down the window. I shiver and tuck the blankets tighter around Meg.

“Your driver’s license please?”

Mom fumbles in her backpack until she finds her wallet and pulls out the license. She gives it to the officer without a word.

He studies it and hands it back. “You folks spend the night here?”

Mom takes her license and says, “Yes. Yes, we did.”

“We got complaints you’ve been camping out in the neighborhood.”

Mom clamps her arms tight across her chest. “We’ve moved the car every night.”

“Not far enough, Ms. Rollins.” Officer Rodriguez leans his hand against Ruby’s roof and bends until his face is even with Mom’s. Deep creases run down the sides of his dark cheeks, making him look old even though his hair is blacker than mine.

“That shiner’s new.” He tilts his head to the side. “This guy gonna work you over again? Maybe take it out on the kids?”

A shiver runs down my spine. Would Darren do that? Beat up Meg and me to get back at Mom?

Mom hesitates before shaking her head. “No. We’ll be okay.”

The officer sighs. “Look, Ma’am. These nice, quiet neighborhoods don’t like their streets cluttered up with campers.” The lines on his face deepen even more. “They call us, and if we spend our time on the big stuff like murders and rapes and armed robbery and don’t get out here to move you on, they go call the mayor and the mayor calls us and then we got to take care of it anyway. Understand?”

Mom nods, but keeps right on staring through Ruby’s fogged-over windshield.

Officer Rodriguez bends sideways so he can look back at us. “These two girls your kids?”

“Yes.” Mom’s voice wobbles.

“What are you doing out here, Ms. Rollins?”

Mom’s body recoils, then straightens until she’s rigid, like it takes all her strength to hold herself upright. “It’s just for a few days.” Her voice is soft and tight, fear stabbing at every word.

“A few hours. A few years. It doesn’t matter.” His face wrinkles into a scowl. “The scum is out there, Ms. Rollins, even in these nice neighborhoods.” The lines around his mouth deepen. “You gotta get these girls off the street before something happens to them.”

Tears slide down the sides of Mom’s cheeks. She doesn’t brush them away, just lets them run on and on, dripping off her chin.

“Look, it’s not a crime to sleep in your car.” Officer Rodriguez slaps his hand on the window ledge. “But you got to have family, friends, something better than this.”

“We don’t have family.” Mom turns to him. “I’m a foster kid. None of my friends can take us in. I’ve got a job. Two jobs. I can find something in a couple of days. I know I can.”

Officer Rodriguez sucks in a breath of air and blows it out in a rush. “That’s what they all say, Ma’am.” He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a folded sheet of paper. “These places can help.” He looks back at us. “You get these girls off the street.” He taps the paper in Mom’s hands. “Now. Before a child molester gets ahold of them.”

Shivers roll through me in wave after icy wave. I pull Meg close and bury my face in her hair.