NINE
When I get to the museum and start walking up the steps, nasty memories bubble up in my stomach. I see Yogi standing there with her animated smile and waving at me like a lunatic. Not having her around anymore feels wrong, but I don’t understand why. How can I possibly be missing her? She killed Bud! How can I feel anything but hatred toward her? What the hell’s wrong with me? My God, I’m so screwed up.
I hurry up the mountain of steps, past the memories, past the guilt, and into the building. As always, Fred the elephant greets me. He towers over me, reminding me of the feelings of power, change and infinite hope that charged through me when I first arrived in DC and laid eyes on this amazing city. This is how I want Naima and the rest of them to feel when they think of me. I will be a Fred to them. Tall, strong, fearless, dangerous.
I go right to the Gift Shop and into the back offices. Mitch wheels around in the chair.
“Hillstone, where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you for the past day. This isn’t Nevada. You want to get paid, you come to work.”
“Hey, Mitch. I’m sorry! A lot’s happened. My grandmother hasn’t been doing well, and—oh, if you don’t mind, can you not call me ‘Hillstone’ anymore? I know it’s my legal last name, but I’ll be changing it back to Greene soon.”
He looks surprised by my response. “Listen, I get that you’ve had a lot going on. But in the real world, there’s stuff happening all over. And all the time, too. Turn on the news—you can see for yourself. Doesn’t matter what time of the day it is here, there’s pandemonium, crime, death—all of the above—happening somewhere. But the world keeps moving right along. And so does this museum. Unless there’s a bomb threat or it’s after hours, it keeps going. And we keep working.” He glances down and flicks a smudge of sugared powder from his uniform. “Anyway, there are plenty of other kids that’d like this job. Who want to work. Just yesterday, I had two come in begging me to take ’em on. And they were sharp, too, they were.”
I almost can’t hold in the urge to laugh. I feel bad for him. The Smithsonian is Mitch’s everything—which is fine. But I couldn’t care less about this place. Not at this point. Not with what’s going on. I want to shout back and tell him that, but I know I’d only be taking my anger out on him. So I rein myself in. “You know, Mitch, you’re right,” I tell him. “I’ve just had a lot going on. I should’ve been more responsible.” I remove my cap and slide it softly across his desk. “You should hire one of those two guys.”
“Whoa, whoa! You quitting on me? Come on now, you can’t just do that!”
I gesture at my uniform shirt. “I don’t have a change of clothes with me, but I’ll make sure to return it to you.” I hold out my hand. He takes it automatically. I think he’s still speechless. “Thank you for everything,” I say. “I really mean that.” I take a brief look around, then turn to leave. When I reach the door, I turn around again and say, “You make sure that one of those new hires of yours watches those monitors. Last week, a kid made off with a bag of moon dust on one of the days I wasn’t here.” I throw him a wink and shut the door behind me.
I don’t know why, but I feel so liberated. I don’t have anything against Mitch, and I didn’t dislike the job, either. But being able to have a say, to have control over what I wanted and then acting on it—it feels like I’ve freed myself from the shackles that have kept me chained up my entire life.
I head in the direction of the café. It’s about noon-ish and if I know Meesha like I think I do, she’s stopped in for her coffee and chocolate croissant.
I’m right.
She’s leaning over the counter swaying her hips from side to side, wiggling one foot in midair … and she’s chewing out the young employee. “Whaddya mean you don’t have any more croissants? Babydoll, that’s like telling a dog he can’t scratch his fleas. I know you may be new and all, but I suggest you go out there in the back and see if you got any more pieces of that baked deliciousness. ’Cause I know Pearl always hides one for me. Go ahead, now. Get!”
