Perception

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Don’t worry. I forgot your name too.

Unknown

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   Mrs Dickson, the saggy-cheeked bulldog of a woman, gave me hell for missing our meeting. It took a phone call from Captain Granger and an emailed copy of the doctor’s report, complete with photos, to finally stop her threatening me with juvie.

     I really believe her personal motto is: Just put them all in jail and keep them out of my hair! Why she chose to be a probation officer is a mystery.

     Three days later, still tender in places, Petra and I returned to the homeless shelter as per orders. Thunderous bashing of nails and sawing of wood assaulted our ears as we walked in. Most of the walls looked fixed but there was still a gaping hole where the roof used to be. Threading through the workers and stepping over the electrical cords, I finally found the Captain who was talking to some dark haired guy with a hammer in this back pocket.

    Spotting me, he called over the guy’s shoulder, “Amy, my dear, how are you feeling?”

   “Like a pineapple after it got ran over by a semi-trailer.”

    He frowned while he tried to understand what I meant in answer to his really stupid question. The wrinkles smoothed though when he spotted Petra. “And what have you been up to, my dear?”

    Straight-faced she replied, “I refuse to answer on the grounds I may incriminate myself.”

  The merry expression on Granger’s face fell flat as Petra walked off to a quiet corner, pulled a tattered paperback book from her backpack and sat down to read.

    All I could do was shake my head. “Ignore her. She’s been reading John Grisham again. What do you want me to do Captain?”

    “Arrh… Kitchen duty I suppose. You probably still can’t do any heavy lifting or anything like that yet, right?” His normally booming voice was still quietly confused. “Is that the kind of thing a fifteen-year-old should be reading?”

     I shrugged. “At least it’s not Gone With the Wind.”

     “Why?” the other man asked as he turned around to face me, his blue eyes sparkling with curiosity.

     “Why what?”

     “Why not Gone With the Wind? It’s a classic.” His deep smooth voice sounded amused and for some reason I thought I should recognise this person, but then I decided I couldn’t be bothered.

      “Because it took her over a month to stop talking like some simpering southern belle last time she did. What’s it to you?” Dismissing him, I called to the Captain as I walked away, “You know where I’ll be and the clock started ten minutes ago.”

***

    The work was dull and repetitive. Only ninety-five more hours and I would be home free (figuratively speaking). Some time during a lull Petra and I had a quick bite to eat. Hell, that’s the reason why I had picked working there instead of say, cleaning up a highway. Access to food. Petra and I tended to avoid the shelters as they were just too dangerous. Finally the food was gone and so were we.

    Walking down the dark sidewalk, we tried to stay out of the light as much as possible until we reached the brightly lit train station. The park was only four blocks away, an easy walk when the sun was out. But that night I couldn’t shake the feeling we were being followed even though every time I turned around the night was still.