If You Find Me Read Online Free PDF Page A

into the woods, like Mama said.
“She loves butter,” I add. “But she doesn’t like peas. She loves birthday cake, too.”
I smile when Mrs. Haskell smiles.
Of all the crazy things a little girl could love, Ness loves birthday cake. There’d only been a few—one on my ninth birthday, one on Nessa’s third and fifth. Each time, Ness had lost it, squealing over the fluffy pink icing.
They look at each other again with that same sorry look, and my smile fades. They have no right.
“Well, when we get back to the motel, we’ll get you and Jenessa a hot bath and dinner. Do you girls like hamburgers? French fries?”
My stomach rumbles before the sound of her words leave the air.
“We like food, ma’am. I don’t think we’ve ever eaten those things you mentioned.”
This time, stopped at a light, Mrs. Haskell turns around in her seat and stares at me.
“Are you telling me your mother never took you into town? Not even to a restaurant?”
“She did. We went to town twice. Once to a speech therapist when Nessa stopped talking, and another time to the doctor when we both came down with the chicken pox.”
“Twice? In ten years?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I hear the intake of breath from the man as Mrs. Haskell regards me with round, uncomprehending eyes.
“What, ma’am?” I say, fidgeting in my seat.
She’s bugging me, now. Not everyone can afford to eat out all fancy like. Doesn’t she know that?
“Where were you, then, all these years?”
What a ridiculous question. Really.
“In the woods. You were there . . .” I say, my words trailing off.
“Where did you get food and supplies?”
“Mama went into town for supplies every month. Canned goods keep, she said. We had a can opener,” I add, my words tasting tinny and inadequate.
“My God. Who schooled you? Your mother?”
“I did. Mama brought us old schoolbooks. I’d learn them, and help Nessa learn hers.”
Mrs. Haskell turns back around. The light is green, green means go, and I’m glad she has to pay attention to the road, instead of to me. Having strangers just stare at you is the oddest feeling. But it’s more than that.
What had I said? Did I say something wrong?
My stomach sinking, I push aside the chips. Would my words hurt Mama later, after they found her?
I hope they don’t find you—fly, Mama, fly! I’ll watch over Nessa. We’ll be right fine.
It’s easy to look out for Nessa. She’s my baby sister. She’s my family, and family is everything.
    I drift off again as the motion of the car—it’s been a long time since I’ve been in a moving car—lulls me to sleep like a baby in its mama’s arms. I wake just as we pull into a parking lot.
“This is it. The Social Services building.”
The poles tower over the asphalt like chilly metal trees, haunting the area with pale yellow circles of light.
    Ness is still asleep, thumb in mouth, T-shirt pushed up, exposing her belly button. I think of what Mrs. Haskell said, noticing for the first time the washboard rows of little- girl ribs. But we’ve always been skinny, as best I can remember. Mama is slim. So is the man.
    I want to ask what we’re doing here, as it’s obvious the building is closed. I want to ask what’s next, what happens next, but I swallow my questions in a lump and tend to Jenessa.
“Baby, we’rehere.”
    I push on her shoulder, but she’s out cold. Gently, I reach around her and sit her up, her head lolling against the seat. She grumbles. Her eyelids flutter.
“Nessa, wake up. We’re here. You have to wake up.”
    Mrs. Haskell and the man exit the car, leaving me to it, and I’m glad. Nessa isn’t used to strangers. Better she sticks to what she knows. Her eyes open reluctantly, and her thumb falls out as she blinks at me, surely trying to remember where she is and what we’re doing in a car, of all places. I use my happy voice.
    “Remember Mrs. Haskell came and got us? She drove us to where she works. That’s why we’ve stopped.” I lift her by the armpits