Small as an Elephant - Jennifer Richard Jacobson [44]
Jack was starving and needed to come up with a plan for finding food. He hadn’t noticed a single soda can on his walk that morning. But he wondered if he could risk turning in cans if he did manage to collect some. With his picture all over the evening news, it would be pretty chancy. And there was absolutely no way that he could approach a food pantry. Perhaps if he got off Main Street and headed down one of the side streets in town, he’d spot a garden.
The houses on the side street he chose were fairly close together — no gardens in sight. But he found himself walking behind three kids — kids he guessed to be about his age — on their way to school. They were wearing new jeans, new sneakers, and clean backpacks. It was definitely the first week of school.
Jack imagined Nina sitting in the front row (she always chose a desk in the front, if allowed) in Mr. Giovanni’s class at Curley. He wondered if she was still hanging out with the same friends as last year. It used to be just the two of them, until the other kids began to tease them about going steady, and they’d both found other kids to hang with during the day. It was fairly easy, since they were both pretty laid-back. And they never expected to be invited to other kids’ homes in the afternoons or on weekends — that’s when they hung out with each other. Or used to.
But now that Jack knew he couldn’t trust Nina, he doubted he’d ever hang out at her place again.
A brick school loomed ahead, and Jack paused on the sidewalk, wondering if this one, like Curley, had a free-breakfast program. If he simply walked into the cafeteria and grabbed a tray, would anyone question him? Probably. At home, he needed to provide a number — his school number — to get hot lunch.
“Are you new?”
Jack turned and saw a girl standing beside him. She was taller than him, with dark, curly hair and big blue eyes. She was wearing a long white T-shirt, leggings, and black leather boots, and she carried a messenger bag instead of a backpack. Older. She was definitely older than he was.
“N-no,” he stumbled. What’s the best answer? “No. I just remembered I forgot my homework, though.” He turned and ran back the way he’d come, hoping she bought it.
If only he was new. What he wouldn’t give to be back in school, with regular hours, a regular life. And food.
Back on Main Street, he turned right and found himself heading into the center of town. Rows of old brick buildings lined both sides of the street, which was busy with people bustling to and from their parked cars, many carrying coffee cups. A couple of men, one in a suit and another in a blue uniform, were waiting to use an ATM. Jack pulled his cap even lower as he passed them. He stood across from one group of shops, all connected like Legos, and read the signs: THE GRASSHOPPER SHOP, LEFT BANK BOOKS, COASTAL COFFEE. At the top of the Coastal Coffee sign, Jack read: FREE INTERNET CAFÉ.
What kind of miracle was this? Sure, libraries had computers, but libraries also had librarians who, wanting to be helpful and all, paid close attention to the comings and goings of kids. A coffee shop — now, that was probably different. A coffee shop would be used to tourists — people that no one had ever seen around before. And at this hour of the morning, a café would be busy, with people trying to get to work and to school on time. They’d hardly notice him.
With Internet access, he could get directions to the animal park, plan a route. And, even though he wouldn’t allow himself to check his YouPage — not until he’d seen Lydia — there was a small chance that reporters had tracked down his mother, had figured out her whereabouts. Maybe she was back in this country. He’d feel better knowing they were both in the same country again.
Jack climbed the steps of the coffee shop and went inside.
The walls and