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My hand itches to lay one on her, but I know that her threat to call the cops isn’t an empty intimidation tactic. She’ll call them for sure, and having an arrest record won’t look good in family court.
I do as she says and head toward Zoey, urging her to go to the room and pack up our meager belongings while inwardly freaking out about where we are going to sleep tonight since I still haven’t found an apartment for us. I hurriedly stuff a backpack and a duffel bag with all the clean clothes I can find while Zoey goes God knows where.
“Zoey! We don’t have time. You heard her. We need to leave,” I call, ordering her back into the room.
“Just give me three minutes. I’ll be quick.”
Thinking that maybe she needs to use the bathroom or something, I take it into my hands to pack her backpack for her. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to transfer her from the school she’s going to now to one in the city, but I’ll figure it out. That’s tomorrow’s problem. Tonight, I still have to figure out where we’re going to sleep. That’s the only thing I can focus on.
“Okay. I’m good to go,” Zoey proclaims at the door of our room.
“Here. Take this,” I tell her, handing my baby sister her bag.
She puts it on her back and doesn’t once complain about how heavy it is.
“Let’s blow this joint,” she chirps cheerfully, like we’re about to embark on an adventure that she’s been dying for me to take her on for years.
I put on a brave face and stretch out my hand for her to hold.
She squeezes my fingers tightly in her tiny grip, as if knowing I need a little bit of her bravery to walk out the door, fully knowing we are about to plunge into uncharted waters.
My aunt is standing post at the door, which is flung wide open, tapping her flip-flops on the floor as if counting down the beats of each second that we are still in her domain.
Neither one of us says even as much as a goodbye as we pass the threshold of the front door, only to hear it slam the minute we’re standing on the front lawn.
I hold onto my sister’s hand as we walk toward the white picket fence, then in the direction of the bus stop. As we keep walking to this unknown future, all I can think about is where I’m supposed to take Zoey now. Maybe I can go back to the diner and ask if I can start work tomorrow instead of next week. And maybe, if I do a good job on my first day, the owner will take pity on me and pay me the week’s wage upfront just so I have a little money to at least feed Zoey. Maybe there is a shelter in the city that we can go to for the time being. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than making Zoey sleep on the streets. My head starts to hurt with so many maybes rummaging around in it.
“Are you scared?” Zoey asks, pulling my mind away from my troubling thoughts.
“Not even a little.” I smile encouragingly.
“Me neither.” Zoey grins back, her smile splitting her face in two.
“Good, I’m glad.”
Once we reach the bus stop, we grow silent for a moment, waiting impatiently for a bus that will take us to our new destination.
“Promise you won’t get angry with me?” Zoey questions worriedly out of the blue.
“Why would I ever be angry at you?” I retort, confused.
“Just promise, okay?” She pouts.
“Fine. I promise.”
Zoey chews on her bottom lip before she takes an envelope full of cash out of her backpack.
“Where did you get this?” I shriek a bit too loudly.
“Before you came home, Uncle Dave said he had a good day at the track, so when Aunt Lucy kicked us out, I sneaked into their room while he was taking his nap and took the big envelope he had been swinging in our faces for the better part of the afternoon. Are you mad?”
I count the hundred-dollar bills in the white envelope and see that there is over two thousand dollars inside it.
I should be mad.
I should be very mad.
I don’t want my kid sister to steal from anyone.
