Molly's Miracle Colonies

Angel's Refuge

Angel's Refuge

"Don't worry, Molly, Dad'll finish the basement soon. You'll see." Angel looks so Sarah Brightman, I expect her to start singing—

"Yeah, and your mom's scared that if she tells her super about what's going on at home, I'll get put with some other foster home, even when they get certified. I can't choose, because I'm 12. If I were 13, maybe a judge would listen to me. That's only next month, though. Oh, it's almost ten. I'd better go home now." I licked the last of the powdered sugar off my dessert plate. Dreaded going out in cold rain. I'll have to be extra careful not to track anything in.

If only my mom would make Mexican Wedding Cookies! Meat and potatoes in the slow cooker. We used to eat out almost every night. Didn't I complain about all the kid meals? Not much variety there. Mom doesn't bother to learn a new recipe. They're always dieting and eat most of it. I sniffed the air and enjoyed the smell of cookies that lingered.

I offer to cook and she gives me a lecture about not wanting to eat my mistakes. And how much they would cost. She doesn't know I cook my cat's diabetic diet. Our neighbors give me food for me, not Sylvania. Who can eat, in this nightmare? What would Mom do if she checked that refrigerator in the garage?

Toni, black-haired like her daughter, never complained, even when Angel's apron caught on the flour canister and it went over. We were seven, and I helped her sit on the counter. Didn't even fuss at me for causing the whole thing! We did help her sweep it all up. Mark came home from work, saw the mess, and offered to go get more. What a great dad he would be!

Angel sighed and got off her bed. Such a soft bed! And her mom made the pretty quilt by hand. Matching lacy flowered curtains. Mom got mad when Toni gave me a bedspread with rainbows on it for Christmas last month. "I wish you could just stay. They couldn't make you come home, could they?"

"Mom could call the police and ask them to escort me home. She'd do it, too! I looked it up on a legal site. Let's go." I looked out the window at their older neighborhood. I'd rather live here than in ours, any day. Red ringlets dripped in my face. My green eyes have bags like an old—

Toni came to the doorway. She and her daughter had beautiful, light blue eyes. "Molly, I'm ready to drive you over."

"I can walk, Mrs. Pedersen."

"I worry about you walking in the dark—"

"And I've been learning karate. Hi-jahh!" I struck my mean pose.

Toni laughed. "Honey, you're so small, he'd pick you up and run off with you!"

Mark ran to the doorway. "What's going on in here?" He chuckled.

"I've been learning karate. Want to let me practice on you?"

He laughed, but waved me after him. "You can try. Where you want me?" Mark Pedersen kept fit by riding bikes with us every day. My dad had flab.

I ran in the living room and moved the coffee table. "Here." I stood opposite their soft sofa. "You're a bad guy. Come up behind me and do a half-Nielsen."

"Okay." He did. He's 6'1" and 200 pounds. I'm 4'1" and 87. Yeah, sure. But I stomped the floor by his foot. Pretended to elbow him in the ribs. Moved my right foot back. Grabbed his elbow and shoulder. Threw him over my back! His head bounced off the cushions! "Gosh, you okay, Mr. Pedersen?" His head almost missed the cushions!

Mark sprawled upside down on their sofa! "I'm okay. Wow! Did you take lessons?" His blue eyes blinked at me.

"I found it on YouTube. Maybe it was jujitsu." I didn't expect him to go that far! The sofa creaked as he sat up.