hurt people badly, did we? Well, maybe we hurt
ourselves somewhat, but we weren't on anyone's Most
Wanted list. Teachers barely tolerated us, were happy when we didn't bother them, and swept us along like so much dust from one room to another, one teacher
to another, as if everyone was to share the burden. Yes. I wrote in the notebook, it's true I did get
arrested more than once. I was put on probation. I did
violate it and I was in danger of going to a real prison.
Yes. I knew why Daddy felt he had to place me with
my uncle and aunt after Mama ran off with someone
and deserted us. but I also knew my aunt and uncle
never wanted me and were surely relieved when I got
myself in new trouble and ran away. My aunt could
claim she was right about me: I was hopeless and now
she had a good excuse for getting rid of me forever. I described it all, how I was cornered into
hurting that boy, how I was arrested for it and decided
to run off, how disappointed I was in Mama when I
found her in that clinic, and how betrayed I felt when
my uncle tricked me and got me taken here. I was
never as mean to anyone as they were to me. I wrote. I
don't deserve this.
As to my fears, I couldn't come up with much
except what I had feared when I was a little girl and
could actually hear the rats scratching their way
through the walls, visiting different apartments as if
the whole place were a mall for rats who could shop in this one's kitchen cabinets and then another and pass the news on to the world of rats out there: Come to Phoebe Elder's home. Her mother is a slob. Lots to eat on the floor and counters, and she's so out of it most nights in a drunken coma, she won't even know
we're there.
I used to curl up in my bed, wrapping the
blanket so tightly around myself it was a wonder I
didn't smother to death. Some nights I sobbed myself
to sleep. Some nights I woke up positive a rat had
crawled over my legs or sniffed my hair. I would