nightriderlisa
Well-Known Member
...but it is one that I wrote while I was driving! (and I do make reference to truck drivers.) ; )
My daughter Heidi had been riding with me for 4 months, and recently got off the truck to go to boot camp. I miss her a lot. That, and a few other things, had been on my mind. I was working on a different story, but this one just kept coming to me... I couldn't get it copy and paste without looking like one big block, and some of the words keep running together, no matter what I did. I assure you I don't type that way! Sorry! and lastly, if there is a more appropriate place to post this, feel free to let me know! : )
Heidi
The old woman trudged into the dinercarrying a filthy backpack and an even dirtier doll. She was carryingthe doll like a woman would carry a baby on her hip. It had beenraining out and her wet sweatshirt hung on her bony frame. Her gray,stringy hair, matted to her face. She sat down in the booth, tookoff her sweatshirt, and lovingly sat the doll next to her. Sheshivered.
She didn't seem to notice the othercustomers looking at her, whispering. Some were shaking theirheads. Maybe she did notice. Maybe she had seen those reactions toooften to care. Usually, she was invisible. And when anyone didnotice her, it was almost always with a look of disdain.
One of the younger waitresses, Norma,had walked to the back to ask the manager if she wanted her to askthe woman to leave. Norma had just started working there less than 2weeks ago. In that short time she had seen Joe, the manager, ask thehomeless to leave if they appeared to be lingering. Joe looked outfrom the kitchen at the old woman. “No, shes okay,” he said. “Wehaven't had any trouble out of her before. She pays for what she getsand even tips decently.”
Another waitress, Mary, peeked aroundthe corner. “I got her.” Mary said, “I like her. Her eyes areso sad. She always seems to be on the verge of tears.” “Probablybecause she wants another bottle of wine,” Norma cracked. Maryheld her finger up to her mouth to shush Norma. Norma rolled hereyes.
Mary brought the old woman a menu andasked if she wanted anything to drink. “Water, please, andcoffee,” the old woman said. Mary looked at the doll and asked“anything for her?” The old woman looked at Mary and tried todetermine if she was being kind, or facetious. Kind, the old womandecided and said “no, thank you. I will share mine with her.” Mary smiled, turned and walked away.
The old woman looked around at theother people in the diner. There were old people in there, truckdrivers, teenagers, couples. People who had regular lives, jobs, andfamilies. These people didn't even know how lucky they were to besitting with somebody that they cared about.
The old woman looked up to see afamily walking by her booth. A young father, an even younger mother,and a little girl. The little girl pointed to the doll and said,“whats her name?” The parents smiled nervously as the fathersaid, “come on Molly.” Then to the old woman, he said, “I'msorry.” “No, its okay,” she said. She looked at the littlegirl with her red, watery eyes and told her, “her name is Heidi.” “Like the Heidi in the story with the grandfather?” the littlegirl asked. “Yes, just like her,” the old woman said.
“You are too old for a doll. Why doyou carry her around?” the little girl asked. “Molly!” saidthe mother smiling apologetically at the old woman.
“No, no its okay,” said the oldwoman. “Its okay. I am sure that people wonder that all thetime.” She looked around the room and could sense that the roomwas listening to the conversation, but trying to act as if they werenot. She felt like she was under a spotlight. Then the old womanlooked at the little girl and told her, “Always ask questions. Don't ever lose that. Often, when people grow up, they let pride andfear get in the way. If you want to know the answer to something,just ask. Its that easy.” Then she asked the little girl, “howold are you?” The old woman looked at the parents, asking with hereyes if it was alright that she had asked. They nodded. “I'msix,” Molly said, and then added, “Heidi is dirty.” “Yes,yes she is. She has been through a lot,” the old woman said.
“What has she been through?,” thelittle girl asked. “Mol--,” the mother started, then rememberedwhat the old woman had said about asking questions.
“Well, we have been having a roughgo of it. I don't really have a place to give her a bath anymore. She used to have baths everyday. And I would make her clothes too. Now this outfit is all she has left. The old woman picked up the dolland fluffed up the grungy pink skirt. She lovingly smoothed the hairand kissed the doll on the cheek.
“Where is her other shoe?,” thelittle girl asked.
“I wish I knew,” the old womansaid from a million miles away.
“Why don't you know?” the littlegirl asked.
A tear fell down the old woman'scheek.
The father spoke up and said, “Wereally do need to be going now.” He smiled, took Molly's hand andfollowed his wife out of the diner. Molly turned around and waved. The old woman waved back. “Bye, Heidi!” Molly said as she walkedaway. The old woman smiled at the little girl. Then she smiled atthe Heidi, picked up her napkin and wiped her tear.
The old woman looked at the family. How happy they looked. How ordinarily happy they looked. Did theyrealize how lucky they were to have this little girl right there bythem? They could just reach out and touch her whenever they wanted. They could kiss her on the cheek, read her a story and brush herhair. Did they realize how lucky they were to have each other?
Mary came back to take the old woman'sorder. “Did you decide?” Mary asked. “I will have the oatmealand coffee please.” “You got it,” Mary said and reached forthe menu. The old woman handed it to her and their hands touchedbriefly. Mary didn't recoil like people normally did. They bothsmiled.
The old woman could not stopshivering. It was warm enough inside the diner, but she had beenchilled to the bone. She didn't know what day it was, but she knewthat it had been several days since she had been inside a building. And it was November.
A group of teenagers walked by herbooth on the way out. One of the boys had stopped to pay their checkand a girl with pink hair and a nose ring smiled at her. The girlhad noticed the old woman shivering and came over and offered her hersweatshirt. “I know its not much, but its dry,” the girl said. “Thank you very much,” said the old woman. “I heard you tellthe little girl that your dolls name is Heidi,” the teen said. “Yes. Her name is Heidi,” said the old woman. “I'm April,”the teen said and stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, April,”said the old woman and shook April's hand.
Wow, the old woman thought. Humancontact twice in one day. The old woman smiled. “So Heidi only hasone shoe, huh?” April asked. The old woman nodded. “Do you needhelp trying to find the other one?” April asked. “Oh, its beenmissing a long, long time now,” the old woman said. “How long?”April asked and slid into the booth. The old woman hesitated. Shethought about how long it had been. It had been hard to believe. She didn't mind talking about it, in fact, liked to talk about it. It was just that whenever she tried, she couldn't do so withoutcrying. And once she started crying, she would cry for days. Shelooked into April's eyes. “About 41 years now,” said the oldwoman. “Wow,” April said. “That's even older than my mom!” The old woman smiled through her tears. She liked this funky girl. She wondered if her grandchildren would have been like April, if herdaughter had grown up and had children.
“Let's go April,” the boy that hadpaid said. “Gotta move on down the road.” April rose. “If Ifind that shoe, I will be sure to hang on to it for you! Bye! Bye,Heidi!” and shot out the door. Her boyfriend put his arm aroundher and she kissed him. Yes, the old woman liked April.
When the two elderly ladies walkedpast her booth, the old woman looked away shamefully. They lookedlike they type of women that had money, and those type of women wereoften unpleasant to her. Sometimes they used words, sometimesgestures and sometimes just their eyes. Why didn't the old womanjust go down to the beauty salon and have her hair done?, their lookssaid. The old woman learned to not take it personally. She couldsee that the people who scorned her were often just afraid that theirlives, too, could turn out poorly. It was actually their own fearthey were processing. She knew that she was a reminder of just howcruel life could be, and that someday, they, too, could be where sheis. She knew that, but still she avoided those looks wheneverpossible.
“Excuse me? Excuse me?” the oldwoman looked and saw that the 2 elderly ladies were standing at herbooth. “Yes?” the old woman asked. “Your doll, Heidi is it?”said one of the women. “Yes?” the old woman asked again. “Shereally is quite lovely. I had a doll just like that when my daughterwas young. Her name was Olivia. The dolls I mean, not my daughters. And, well, I didn't have the doll, my daughter did,” the woman wasrambling now. “Oh how I miss when my daughter was that age! Sheused to carry Olivia around with her everywhere we went. She wasalways such a good mommy to Olivia,” the woman said. The old womansmiled, and choked back tears. “Now, of course, she is a goodmommy to her own babies. But I don't know where Olivia is. I amgoing to call her and ask her about Olivia when I get home,” thewoman rambled on. “Did Heidi belong to your daughter?” thebabbling woman asked. “Yes,” the old woman said with a lump oftears in her throat. Her friend, a bit more perceptive, noticed theold woman's tears streaming down her face and asked her, “Are youokay?” “I'm fine, thank you,” the old woman said. The secondwoman sat down opposite the old woman and touched her hand. “Heidiis beautiful. Was that your daughter's name?” To the outsideworld, the old woman would have seemed to be looking right at thisstranger, but in reality, she couldn't see her. She couldn't see herthrough the tears, through her thoughts, or through her memories. She barely heard her voice. “Yes,” the old woman croaked. Shehadn't told anyone that in 41 years.
The woman in the booth looked at theold woman. She knew real pain when she saw it, and she saw it daily. She didn't know what it was exactly, but she could see that this oldwoman was carrying a load that would have crippled Atlas. “My nameis Carol and I am a social worker. I can see that you are in a lotof pain. I don't mean to pry, but I would love to help you if Ican.” The old woman looked at Carol through her tears. Sheappreciated the kindness, but knew that there was no help for her. The only help that would matter was getting Heidi back and being ableto live all of the past 41 years over again. Even just punishing theman who ripped her daughter from her arms 41 years ago wouldn'tmatter. Nothing mattered, without Heidi.
The old woman didn't speak. Shecouldn't. She just sat there, wiping her tears. She could feel thesobs welling up. She knew it was coming. It happened all the time,dammit. This time was different though. She had felt a huge reliefjust acknowledging her daughter's name to another person. She sobbedsoftly, as usual, because she missed her daughter more than she wouldhave missed air, but she also sobbed because in all of the yearssince her daughter's kidnapping, she had never experienced so muchkindness. Her face turned red.
Carol was no stranger to the signs ofstress, and recognized that this poor old woman was near her breakingpoint. Carol decided to back off. She put a business card in frontof the old woman. She said, “here is my phone number and myaddress. Please come by and see me. Or, if its better for you, Ican come meet you somewhere. I would love to hear more about Heidi.” Carol rose and headed for the door with her friend. The old womansmiled. “It was nice meeting you,” Carol said as she walked outthe door. The old woman picked up Heidi and kissed her on her cheek. She put the business card in her backpack. She did not know if shewould call Carol, but she hoped that somehow she would find thecourage to. She felt lighter than she had felt in a long time. Avery long time. And Carol genuinely seemed to want to hear about herdaughter and how beautiful she was. The old woman knew that shewanted to tell everybody about how beautiful her daughter was, itsjust that nobody seemed to want to hear it.
Mary brought the oatmeal and coffeeand the old woman ate quietly. She sipped her coffee for a longtime, and even had a second cup. She smiled at Heidi again. Shefelt good.
Several truck drivers were paying thecheck and smiled at the old woman. She smiled back. She wasn'tembarrassed like she usually was. As they walked by, one of thetruck drivers reached over and playfully pinched Heidi's cheek. Theold woman laughed. She actually laughed! She surprised herself.
When she was done eating, she askedfor the check. “Those men paid it for you,” Mary said. “Theydidn't want me to say anything until they had left. They also wantedme to bring this to you.” Mary brought the old woman a chocolatesundae. “With lots of whipped crème. They were adamant aboutthat,” Mary smiled.
“Well I guess this is my lucky day,”the old woman said. She felt like a queen.
“I guess it is,” said Mary. “Iknow it is. Do you have a place to sleep tonite?” The old womanthought of the alley where she kept her cardboard that she slept on. “Yes,” she said. “Is it warm?” Mary asked. The old womanlooked down. She didn't mean to look down, it seemed to her that shealways did that instinctively. To keep away any negative reactionsfrom others. Or if not to keep them away, at least to shut them out. Mary touched her arm and said “I'm sorry. I just meant that Ihave a place for you and Heidi to sleep tonight, if you want. It isnot fancy, but it will be warm. I can't have long term tenants, butI can have visitors. And I would love it if you would come visitwith me for a night or two.” Mary smiled. She really wanted herto spend the night, the old woman thought. And then for some reasonshe thought, “what day is this?”
The old woman had been on the streetsfor a very long time. She didn't think that she deserved to have aroof over her head. It was, after all, partly her fault that herdaughter was taken. If she had just held on tighter. If she wouldhave thought to get the license plate of the car. How could she not have gotten the license plate number? Everybody knows you aresupposed to get the license plate number. She thought of her littlegirl, screaming. Grasping the doll as she was being pulled away intothe car. She had been able to hang onto the doll, but not her owndaughter. She saw her daughter's outreached hands still holding thedolls shoe, her daughter screaming. She beat on the car, trying toopen the door as the car sped away. She never saw her baby again.
“It will be okay,” Mary said. Andfor some reason, the old woman believed her. Not that it wouldliterally be okay. The old woman knew it never really would be. Butmaybe it could be better. Or at least, maybe, the old woman couldjust breath again.
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My daughter Heidi had been riding with me for 4 months, and recently got off the truck to go to boot camp. I miss her a lot. That, and a few other things, had been on my mind. I was working on a different story, but this one just kept coming to me... I couldn't get it copy and paste without looking like one big block, and some of the words keep running together, no matter what I did. I assure you I don't type that way! Sorry! and lastly, if there is a more appropriate place to post this, feel free to let me know! : )
Heidi
The old woman trudged into the dinercarrying a filthy backpack and an even dirtier doll. She was carryingthe doll like a woman would carry a baby on her hip. It had beenraining out and her wet sweatshirt hung on her bony frame. Her gray,stringy hair, matted to her face. She sat down in the booth, tookoff her sweatshirt, and lovingly sat the doll next to her. Sheshivered.
She didn't seem to notice the othercustomers looking at her, whispering. Some were shaking theirheads. Maybe she did notice. Maybe she had seen those reactions toooften to care. Usually, she was invisible. And when anyone didnotice her, it was almost always with a look of disdain.
One of the younger waitresses, Norma,had walked to the back to ask the manager if she wanted her to askthe woman to leave. Norma had just started working there less than 2weeks ago. In that short time she had seen Joe, the manager, ask thehomeless to leave if they appeared to be lingering. Joe looked outfrom the kitchen at the old woman. “No, shes okay,” he said. “Wehaven't had any trouble out of her before. She pays for what she getsand even tips decently.”
Another waitress, Mary, peeked aroundthe corner. “I got her.” Mary said, “I like her. Her eyes areso sad. She always seems to be on the verge of tears.” “Probablybecause she wants another bottle of wine,” Norma cracked. Maryheld her finger up to her mouth to shush Norma. Norma rolled hereyes.
Mary brought the old woman a menu andasked if she wanted anything to drink. “Water, please, andcoffee,” the old woman said. Mary looked at the doll and asked“anything for her?” The old woman looked at Mary and tried todetermine if she was being kind, or facetious. Kind, the old womandecided and said “no, thank you. I will share mine with her.” Mary smiled, turned and walked away.
The old woman looked around at theother people in the diner. There were old people in there, truckdrivers, teenagers, couples. People who had regular lives, jobs, andfamilies. These people didn't even know how lucky they were to besitting with somebody that they cared about.
The old woman looked up to see afamily walking by her booth. A young father, an even younger mother,and a little girl. The little girl pointed to the doll and said,“whats her name?” The parents smiled nervously as the fathersaid, “come on Molly.” Then to the old woman, he said, “I'msorry.” “No, its okay,” she said. She looked at the littlegirl with her red, watery eyes and told her, “her name is Heidi.” “Like the Heidi in the story with the grandfather?” the littlegirl asked. “Yes, just like her,” the old woman said.
“You are too old for a doll. Why doyou carry her around?” the little girl asked. “Molly!” saidthe mother smiling apologetically at the old woman.
“No, no its okay,” said the oldwoman. “Its okay. I am sure that people wonder that all thetime.” She looked around the room and could sense that the roomwas listening to the conversation, but trying to act as if they werenot. She felt like she was under a spotlight. Then the old womanlooked at the little girl and told her, “Always ask questions. Don't ever lose that. Often, when people grow up, they let pride andfear get in the way. If you want to know the answer to something,just ask. Its that easy.” Then she asked the little girl, “howold are you?” The old woman looked at the parents, asking with hereyes if it was alright that she had asked. They nodded. “I'msix,” Molly said, and then added, “Heidi is dirty.” “Yes,yes she is. She has been through a lot,” the old woman said.
“What has she been through?,” thelittle girl asked. “Mol--,” the mother started, then rememberedwhat the old woman had said about asking questions.
“Well, we have been having a roughgo of it. I don't really have a place to give her a bath anymore. She used to have baths everyday. And I would make her clothes too. Now this outfit is all she has left. The old woman picked up the dolland fluffed up the grungy pink skirt. She lovingly smoothed the hairand kissed the doll on the cheek.
“Where is her other shoe?,” thelittle girl asked.
“I wish I knew,” the old womansaid from a million miles away.
“Why don't you know?” the littlegirl asked.
A tear fell down the old woman'scheek.
The father spoke up and said, “Wereally do need to be going now.” He smiled, took Molly's hand andfollowed his wife out of the diner. Molly turned around and waved. The old woman waved back. “Bye, Heidi!” Molly said as she walkedaway. The old woman smiled at the little girl. Then she smiled atthe Heidi, picked up her napkin and wiped her tear.
The old woman looked at the family. How happy they looked. How ordinarily happy they looked. Did theyrealize how lucky they were to have this little girl right there bythem? They could just reach out and touch her whenever they wanted. They could kiss her on the cheek, read her a story and brush herhair. Did they realize how lucky they were to have each other?
Mary came back to take the old woman'sorder. “Did you decide?” Mary asked. “I will have the oatmealand coffee please.” “You got it,” Mary said and reached forthe menu. The old woman handed it to her and their hands touchedbriefly. Mary didn't recoil like people normally did. They bothsmiled.
The old woman could not stopshivering. It was warm enough inside the diner, but she had beenchilled to the bone. She didn't know what day it was, but she knewthat it had been several days since she had been inside a building. And it was November.
A group of teenagers walked by herbooth on the way out. One of the boys had stopped to pay their checkand a girl with pink hair and a nose ring smiled at her. The girlhad noticed the old woman shivering and came over and offered her hersweatshirt. “I know its not much, but its dry,” the girl said. “Thank you very much,” said the old woman. “I heard you tellthe little girl that your dolls name is Heidi,” the teen said. “Yes. Her name is Heidi,” said the old woman. “I'm April,”the teen said and stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, April,”said the old woman and shook April's hand.
Wow, the old woman thought. Humancontact twice in one day. The old woman smiled. “So Heidi only hasone shoe, huh?” April asked. The old woman nodded. “Do you needhelp trying to find the other one?” April asked. “Oh, its beenmissing a long, long time now,” the old woman said. “How long?”April asked and slid into the booth. The old woman hesitated. Shethought about how long it had been. It had been hard to believe. She didn't mind talking about it, in fact, liked to talk about it. It was just that whenever she tried, she couldn't do so withoutcrying. And once she started crying, she would cry for days. Shelooked into April's eyes. “About 41 years now,” said the oldwoman. “Wow,” April said. “That's even older than my mom!” The old woman smiled through her tears. She liked this funky girl. She wondered if her grandchildren would have been like April, if herdaughter had grown up and had children.
“Let's go April,” the boy that hadpaid said. “Gotta move on down the road.” April rose. “If Ifind that shoe, I will be sure to hang on to it for you! Bye! Bye,Heidi!” and shot out the door. Her boyfriend put his arm aroundher and she kissed him. Yes, the old woman liked April.
When the two elderly ladies walkedpast her booth, the old woman looked away shamefully. They lookedlike they type of women that had money, and those type of women wereoften unpleasant to her. Sometimes they used words, sometimesgestures and sometimes just their eyes. Why didn't the old womanjust go down to the beauty salon and have her hair done?, their lookssaid. The old woman learned to not take it personally. She couldsee that the people who scorned her were often just afraid that theirlives, too, could turn out poorly. It was actually their own fearthey were processing. She knew that she was a reminder of just howcruel life could be, and that someday, they, too, could be where sheis. She knew that, but still she avoided those looks wheneverpossible.
“Excuse me? Excuse me?” the oldwoman looked and saw that the 2 elderly ladies were standing at herbooth. “Yes?” the old woman asked. “Your doll, Heidi is it?”said one of the women. “Yes?” the old woman asked again. “Shereally is quite lovely. I had a doll just like that when my daughterwas young. Her name was Olivia. The dolls I mean, not my daughters. And, well, I didn't have the doll, my daughter did,” the woman wasrambling now. “Oh how I miss when my daughter was that age! Sheused to carry Olivia around with her everywhere we went. She wasalways such a good mommy to Olivia,” the woman said. The old womansmiled, and choked back tears. “Now, of course, she is a goodmommy to her own babies. But I don't know where Olivia is. I amgoing to call her and ask her about Olivia when I get home,” thewoman rambled on. “Did Heidi belong to your daughter?” thebabbling woman asked. “Yes,” the old woman said with a lump oftears in her throat. Her friend, a bit more perceptive, noticed theold woman's tears streaming down her face and asked her, “Are youokay?” “I'm fine, thank you,” the old woman said. The secondwoman sat down opposite the old woman and touched her hand. “Heidiis beautiful. Was that your daughter's name?” To the outsideworld, the old woman would have seemed to be looking right at thisstranger, but in reality, she couldn't see her. She couldn't see herthrough the tears, through her thoughts, or through her memories. She barely heard her voice. “Yes,” the old woman croaked. Shehadn't told anyone that in 41 years.
The woman in the booth looked at theold woman. She knew real pain when she saw it, and she saw it daily. She didn't know what it was exactly, but she could see that this oldwoman was carrying a load that would have crippled Atlas. “My nameis Carol and I am a social worker. I can see that you are in a lotof pain. I don't mean to pry, but I would love to help you if Ican.” The old woman looked at Carol through her tears. Sheappreciated the kindness, but knew that there was no help for her. The only help that would matter was getting Heidi back and being ableto live all of the past 41 years over again. Even just punishing theman who ripped her daughter from her arms 41 years ago wouldn'tmatter. Nothing mattered, without Heidi.
The old woman didn't speak. Shecouldn't. She just sat there, wiping her tears. She could feel thesobs welling up. She knew it was coming. It happened all the time,dammit. This time was different though. She had felt a huge reliefjust acknowledging her daughter's name to another person. She sobbedsoftly, as usual, because she missed her daughter more than she wouldhave missed air, but she also sobbed because in all of the yearssince her daughter's kidnapping, she had never experienced so muchkindness. Her face turned red.
Carol was no stranger to the signs ofstress, and recognized that this poor old woman was near her breakingpoint. Carol decided to back off. She put a business card in frontof the old woman. She said, “here is my phone number and myaddress. Please come by and see me. Or, if its better for you, Ican come meet you somewhere. I would love to hear more about Heidi.” Carol rose and headed for the door with her friend. The old womansmiled. “It was nice meeting you,” Carol said as she walked outthe door. The old woman picked up Heidi and kissed her on her cheek. She put the business card in her backpack. She did not know if shewould call Carol, but she hoped that somehow she would find thecourage to. She felt lighter than she had felt in a long time. Avery long time. And Carol genuinely seemed to want to hear about herdaughter and how beautiful she was. The old woman knew that shewanted to tell everybody about how beautiful her daughter was, itsjust that nobody seemed to want to hear it.
Mary brought the oatmeal and coffeeand the old woman ate quietly. She sipped her coffee for a longtime, and even had a second cup. She smiled at Heidi again. Shefelt good.
Several truck drivers were paying thecheck and smiled at the old woman. She smiled back. She wasn'tembarrassed like she usually was. As they walked by, one of thetruck drivers reached over and playfully pinched Heidi's cheek. Theold woman laughed. She actually laughed! She surprised herself.
When she was done eating, she askedfor the check. “Those men paid it for you,” Mary said. “Theydidn't want me to say anything until they had left. They also wantedme to bring this to you.” Mary brought the old woman a chocolatesundae. “With lots of whipped crème. They were adamant aboutthat,” Mary smiled.
“Well I guess this is my lucky day,”the old woman said. She felt like a queen.
“I guess it is,” said Mary. “Iknow it is. Do you have a place to sleep tonite?” The old womanthought of the alley where she kept her cardboard that she slept on. “Yes,” she said. “Is it warm?” Mary asked. The old womanlooked down. She didn't mean to look down, it seemed to her that shealways did that instinctively. To keep away any negative reactionsfrom others. Or if not to keep them away, at least to shut them out. Mary touched her arm and said “I'm sorry. I just meant that Ihave a place for you and Heidi to sleep tonight, if you want. It isnot fancy, but it will be warm. I can't have long term tenants, butI can have visitors. And I would love it if you would come visitwith me for a night or two.” Mary smiled. She really wanted herto spend the night, the old woman thought. And then for some reasonshe thought, “what day is this?”
The old woman had been on the streetsfor a very long time. She didn't think that she deserved to have aroof over her head. It was, after all, partly her fault that herdaughter was taken. If she had just held on tighter. If she wouldhave thought to get the license plate of the car. How could she not have gotten the license plate number? Everybody knows you aresupposed to get the license plate number. She thought of her littlegirl, screaming. Grasping the doll as she was being pulled away intothe car. She had been able to hang onto the doll, but not her owndaughter. She saw her daughter's outreached hands still holding thedolls shoe, her daughter screaming. She beat on the car, trying toopen the door as the car sped away. She never saw her baby again.
“It will be okay,” Mary said. Andfor some reason, the old woman believed her. Not that it wouldliterally be okay. The old woman knew it never really would be. Butmaybe it could be better. Or at least, maybe, the old woman couldjust breath again.
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