Now the city was waking up. Doors opened. People jogged by. Cars began to crowd the streets, their radios blasting the morning news through open windows.
Liberty checked her map. Her hands shook from fear that Mal was nearby. Her legs wobbled from hunger like overcooked noodles. She’d never been much for eating because the food she cooked for Sal was greasy and disgusting, even when it wasn’t covered in maple syrup. Liberty had not tasted ripe cherries, or a fresh salad with chopped herbs, crunchy carrots, and sweet tomatoes. The food at home was either frozen or canned. Still, she had eaten a bit at every meal. She’d never experienced hunger.
Worse, as the doors of the cafés swung open for business, the scent of breakfast floated in the air: baked sweets, coffee, hot chocolate, and eggs and bacon.
Then there were the sights: street stands with mountains of colorful fruits, windows displaying cheeses and meats. She had to remind herself that she was in a hurry, in danger, so that she didn’t stop and ogle every single display.
* * *
As Liberty walked, she looked to the left and right, behind her and in front of her for Mal. She passed an art gallery, a French restaurant, and a shop that seemed to contain anything you might put in your mouth, ears, or eyes: toothbrushes and toothpaste, chewing gum, mints, toothpicks, dental floss, penny candy that actually cost a dime, eyedrops, eyeglasses, sunglasses, contact lenses and contact lens solution, nose spray, nose drops, cotton swabs, and medicine for stuffy noses. She longed to go and pick up every item; they were all so colorful. She passed a shop with a dazzling array of shoes. How would those colorful shoes look with her shabby gray dress?
A man with a top hat was painting a sign that said MAGIC STORE. On a hunch, Liberty looked in that shop’s window. Sure enough, the woman from the church was chasing a bunch of white rabbits around with a broom. Suddenly, the woman dashed out the door and swept her broom right at her husband’s head, knocking off his hat. A few white rabbits escaped onto the street. Liberty would’ve stopped to chat with them if she weren’t so afraid of being caught by Mal.
She turned a corner onto an even busier street. Better to be lost in a crowd. She stopped to gaze into a window filled with chocolate cakes, pastries, tarts, and cookies. It was more enticing than even the gingerbread house in “Hansel and Gretel.” In the window was a sign: FREE SAMPLE.
She went inside. There was a woman and a man, as round as her mother, wearing a white apron and a tall white hat.
On top of the counter was a plate with little lacy cups. Each cup had a piece of yellow cake topped with pink frosting. Shyly, Liberty took one and began to eat. It was delicious.
She reached for another.
“One per customer,” the woman snapped.
Liberty pulled back her hand. There was so much she didn’t know about the world and how to be in it.
“She can have another, Velma,” the man in the apron said. “Can’t you see our little friend is hungry? And how about a nice cup of coffee. On me.” He poured a cup of coffee, loaded it with sugar and cream, then grabbed a doughnut from a tray and plopped it into a bag. “Here you go. Breakfast.”
It was the first meal anyone had made for her.
“Thank you!” Mal had always insisted on manners. She had to thank him each morning for their house, for the food she got to cook, for each time he allowed her to cut his toenails. At any rate, manners were the one useful thing Mal had given her, despite the circumstances.
“She’s been in here before, taking free samples.” The woman narrowed her eyes.
“No she hasn’t,” the man said. “I’d remember her.”
“Her face is so familiar. Where have I seen you?”
Had the woman seen the poster? “I’d better go.” Liberty dashed outside.
The streets were now filled with people on their way to work. Liberty walked among them eating her doughnut and drinking the sweet coffee. If it weren’t for Mal’s signs, she would’ve felt so happy among the people and the world, so full of wonder.
She joined a crowd crossing the street, stepping around workmen who were climbing out of a hole in the ground.
Suddenly, through the crowd, she saw the words SULLIVAN SCHOOL. The words were moving at a good clip, appearing and disappearing. Liberty had to push her way through the crowd to chase after them.
SULLIVAN SCHOOL. There they were again. Printed in blue letters across the back of two sweatshirts.
The sweatshirts turned a corner. “Sullivan School!” Liberty called, chasing after them, stepping into the street to go faster. A yellow car marked TAXICAB honked loudly. Those cars are everywhere, Liberty thought. They sure honked more than other cars.
Liberty had almost reached them, two girls walking arm in arm.
But then she smelled a skunk.
A moment later, she saw Mal, rushing among the people, his greasy head swiveling to and fro above the crowd.
It almost made her giggle, to see what an odd picture Mal made, like a giraffe among a flock of sheep.
But this was no time to laugh; the next second, his telescope head turned and he looked straight at her. “Libby!” He began shoving people. “Out of my way! That’s my daughter!”
Liberty turned and ran. She ran in front of the honking taxis, crossing the street. She turned the corner, then dashed into an apartment building with a revolving door. She leapt out of the moving door into the lobby.
The walls inside were mirrored. The floors were marble, like the library’s floors.
She flattened herself against the wall as she’d seen a character do on one of Sal’s TV shows.
A man wearing a red jacket and cap stood behind a little stand. “Pretending to be wallpaper?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” Liberty answered. “I mean… I’m just waiting for my mother.”
The man came over. He had bushy eyebrows that practically covered his eyes. “Are you saying that you and your mother live here?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. I know everyone who lives here.”
“We’re just visiting someone.”
“Whom are you visiting?”
Liberty peeked out. She couldn’t see Mal. “I think maybe I’m in the wrong building.”
The man bent toward her. “Why, you’re the girl on the sign!”
“There’s my mother!” Liberty shoved past him and out the door.
Mal was now crossing the street. Under his arm was the skunk!
Liberty thought fast. She could drink the lifting soda and fly away, but who knew where that would take her? She could run as fast as she could in the opposite direction. She could hide. The playground equipment in the park had places where she might not be seen. There was a tube and a big slide with a house on top of it. Near the workmen there was a giant crane. She could climb to the top of it.
A crowd had collected on the corner, waiting for the light. Liberty slid in among them, and ducked until the light changed.
As she crossed the street, she noticed the workmen were loading their equipment onto a truck.
While their backs were turned, Liberty went under the yellow tape and dashed to the manhole.
Unlike the rabbit hole that led to Wonderland, this one had a ladder. Lowering herself in, she climbed down rung by rung.
The ground was slimy under her worn shoes. Rats scrambled over her feet. None of them spoke.
She stood paralyzed in the shaft of light from the hole, her hand still on the last rung of the ladder.
The sewer smelled like the world’s busiest bathroom.
She thought about Mal’s plan to lower her into the sewers to work.
Now here she was after all: Alice in Wasteland.