"I could manage to scrape up about a hundred and fifty dollars, maybe a little bit more. I know where my brother keeps some money in a drawer. He won't miss it."
"Good."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to go to Los Angeles and find Mommy," I said.
"Wow." She thought a moment. "A hundred and fifty dollars won't be enough to get across the country, Melody."
"I'll get there. I got here, didn't I?"
She nodded.
"Okay. I'll give you the money."
"Thank you, Alice. You are my one true friend." "Are you coming to my house to sleep?"
I gazed around the trailer. Even without furniture, it seemed like home again. I could easily imagine where everything had been and I could remember conversations and moments at practically every spot.
"No, I'll just curl up here. You'll get into trouble if your parents find me. I've made enough trouble for enough people."
"But," she gazed around, "can you sleep here?"
"Yes," I said. "I can. Cary's coat is pretty warm."
"All right," she said. "I'll get up a little earlier in the morning and come here with the money before school.
I'll leave the radio with you for company."
"Thanks, Alice."
"I'm going to miss you all over again," she said.
"As soon as I get to Los Angeles and find Mommy, I'll write. Maybe you can come visit."
"Yes, maybe," she said, excited with the idea. "Okay. Good night, Melody."
"Good night."
She left, and the candles burned out, leaving me in the darkness, surrounded by memories of Daddy's voice and laughter, Mommy's voice and laughter. I softly wept for a while and then curled up and fell asleep.
I woke in the middle of the night when I thought I heard footsteps. My heart pounded as I gazed into the pitch blackness of Mineral Acres, half expecting to see Mommy emerge from the dark. Something scurried over the floor and I realized it was either a squirrel or a rat trying to work up enough nerve to get to the remnants of our picnic.
That thought made me uneasy and for the remainder of the night I woke up continually, listening and then falling asleep, only to wake up again. By the time the first light of morning came through the dirty, smudged windows, I was almost as tired as I had been when I first tried to sleep. Nevertheless, I rose and used the bathroom, even though the toilet didn't work. I had no choice.
I heard voices around the trailer, other people going to work or to town, so I remained hidden inside, quiet, waiting for Alice. She was true to her word and arrived before going to school.
"You don't look as if you slept too well, Melody," she said when she set eyes on me.
"I didn't."
"You should have come home with me. I worried about you all night. Anyway, here's the money," she said, handing me an envelope packed with bills.
"Thank you, Alice."
"Don't get robbed this time."
"I've learned my lesson, don't worry."