Jenny’s Day

Don’t look down. Jenny’s boots swished through the untouched snow next to the sidewalk, creating a beautiful soft crunch with every footfall. She wished she had earmuffs for her cold ears – a furry pair like Cricket’s – but then again she might not hear her steps, and that was so rare in a big, loud city that it was worth a little pain.

She hurried along the street, gloved hands clutching a plastic bag holding a half gallon of milk, a dozen eggs, and a loaf of bread. She looked forward to a real, cooked breakfast. Anything that wasn’t a small bowl of instant oatmeal. They had run out of oatmeal and maybe Mrs. Tolliver hadn’t noticed before she left for work. And maybe she didn’t realize there wasn’t anything else to eat in the apartment.

Diego looked like he wanted to cry, and Cricket looked like she wanted to punch something when they all realized there would be no breakfast, but for once, Jenny could do something about it all. Yesterday, she had helped Mr. Martinez carry his groceries up the four flights of stairs to his floor.

>>>>>-----<<<<<

“Thank you very much, Jenny girl,” he said, smiling at her.

“You’re welcome!” She knew how to be polite. She turned to go back downstairs, even though the bags of groceries were sitting in a short row outside his door. She wasn’t going to help carry them in. At 11 years old, she knew better than to go into a man’s apartment, even if he was old and smiled and seemed really nice and like someone you’d like to have for a grandfather. You never really knew.

“Oh, wait just one minute Jenny. I have something for you.”

She turned suspiciously, to see him holding out a ten dollar bill. Her eyes widened, but her hands stayed put.

“It’s a tip for helping carry these heavy bags. Just like I used to get for parking cars. You’re a good girl and a good helper and you deserve a tip.”

Well, since he put it that way, she took the tip. “Thank you Mr. Martinez!”

The smile left his face and he looked at her seriously. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

She looked back at him just as seriously. She understood. “I won’t.”

>>>>>-----<<<<<

Almost home, she slipped a little and looked down as she struggled to not fall. A fear of breaking the precious eggs made her heart jump a little, but she found her balance and kept walking. Only now she couldn’t ignore the dirty sidewalk with mounds of dark gray slush only partially covering the garbage. Things weren’t so pretty any more.

When she opened the apartment door she almost dropped the eggs again. Mrs. Tolliver was home and she looked like she wanted to punch the strange woman standing in the middle of the living room.

“Where have you been?” she asked, clearly trying to hide her anger.

“I went to the store,” Jenny replied, desperately trying to think up a lie for how she got the groceries. She was surprised when there were no further questions and slowly moved her eyes to take in the stranger. She was a middle-aged woman with brown hair, wearing a nice thick coat and good snow boots, with a little bit of smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Hi Jenny,” she said. “I’m Sally, and I’m here to take you to your new home.”

Jenny’s heart sank. It was so hard trying to fit in. Mrs. Tolliver wasn’t nice, and she yelled a lot, but at least she never hit anyone. And maybe they were hungry a lot, but they never starved. She wouldn’t miss Cricket’s mean streak, or Diego’s whining, but she was used to them. They were sitting on the sofa, staring at her, still looking like they wanted to cry or punch something. She slumped a little, but it wasn’t the first time this had happened and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“Okay,” she replied quietly. “I’ll go pack.” Not that there was a lot to pack.

She walked into the bedroom the kids all shared, and stared in shock. There was a bright yellow backpack and a little suitcase on her bed. The suitcase even had wheels on it. Sally came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. Jenny usually didn’t like to be touched, but she was in too much shock to protest.

“Those are for you,” Sally said. “Put your things in the suitcase and we’ll go.”

And that was that.

In the car, Sally told Jenny she could look in the backpack. There were already things in it and they were for Jenny. Pretty colored pencils and pens, notebooks, a ruler, all sorts of school supplies. Jenny almost cried. She’d forgotten how much she loved pretty things.

Sally stopped the car in front of a tall, brick townhouse. In a daze, Jenny walked up the steps and through the door, into a clean, bright, airy space. A man and woman were waiting there, next to a dog wagging its tail and smiling. Jenny hadn’t known that dogs could smile, but that’s really what it was doing.

Sally told her these were her new foster parents and that she would be back in a few days to check on her. Jenny nodded. She’d heard that before from countless people whose names she never remembered because she never saw them again. Sally must have sensed this because she knelt down in front of Jenny and put her hands on her shoulders. The look in her eyes made Jenny forget about her no touching rule.

“I mean it Jenny. I’m sorry other people told you that and never followed through, but I’ll be here for you. I promise. I’ll be here in a few days and then every week. I’m going to leave my phone number, so call me if you need to. You’re going to be okay, and we’re all going to help you.”

No one had ever told her that before. Maybe it would be true. A tiny spark of hope kindled in her heart.

She felt something pushing at her hand and looked down to see the dog asking for a pet. She smiled for the first time that day, and it only got bigger when they took her up to her bedroom. Her very own bedroom, with bright rugs on the wood floor, books on the shelves, and a canopy over the bed. A gauzy canopy like something out of a fairy tale, which is what Jenny thought it all was.

She nodded when the grownups all said they’d leave her alone to get settled in, and burst into tears as soon as the door closed. But they were happy tears. Even if this didn’t last, even if everyone turned out to be mean, this was better than anywhere she’d ever been.

And then she realized the dog was still with her, and she thought that maybe it really would be okay. And she thought that maybe the most important part of a day was the ending, because if it ended good then you could wake up happy and hopeful that the next day might be good too. So she dried her tears, cuddled the dog, and unzipped her new suitcase to put away her things.