The Girl Who Owned a City (5 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

T

odd awoke, crying, just before dawn. Probably a bad dream, Lisa thought. And no wonder, considering all that's happened.

By the time he was asleep again, Lisa was wide awake. She felt that it must be light outside, and her clock confirmed it. It was seven. Quietly, she dressed and slipped upstairs from the basement.

Outside, the morning sun warmed her as she studied their house on the hill. It would be easy, she decided, to defend it from the hungry and frightened children in the neighborhood. But she just couldn't believe that it was necessary. Couldn't they find a better way?

Lisa's attention turned to the car. Teaching herself to drive had been a brilliant idea, and she didn't mind giving herself a compliment. Yes, brilliant—almost like inventing something. The car had been useless before, and now it was a treasure.

But . . . the tires! Terror swept through her when she saw that the tires were flat. Why? She fell to her knees and studied the rubber with her hands. Had they been cut? No, she could find no cuts or holes.

A thing like this couldn't just happen. Who would have done it? And why? What could they gain by it? Did they want to beat her to the supplies? Were they jealous? She had brought the car back to life and used it to find food. Now someone had simply and horribly destroyed it. There was no good explanation. It was evil.

Her mind was filled with so many questions that she barely heard the voice that was calling out from the house. “Lisa, I'm hungry.”

“Oh, Todd!” she cried. “They've ruined our car. Look at the tires!”

He walked to the car and, with a calmness and confidence that she hadn't seen in him before, examined the tires. Without speaking, he walked into the garage and returned with the tire pump. “Here,” was all he said.

They fumbled for a time before they were able to attach the hose to the tire. They began pumping the air. It was very hard work, but before long, the car stood as high as it had before.

“Todd, you're a genius!” Her words brought a wide grin to his face that stayed all through breakfast.

“I'll do the dishes this morning,” she said, wanting to reward him, “if you'll start collecting some things for me. Today we're going to fix this house up so that all the gangs in Glen Ellyn together won't be able to get in.”

In response to Lisa's commands from the kitchen, Todd worked quickly to gather their supplies—hammer, saw, thread, rope, tin cans, cardboard, razor blades, and crayons.

The first project of the day would be the alarm system. Lisa explained that it was logical to start that way, because the alarm could warn them of trouble even as they worked. “Get the thread, Todd. I'll get some coat hangers.”

He was puzzled and asked, “What is ‘logical?'” The new word interested him. After all, as “captain of defense” he should know such grown-up words.

“I'm not sure how to explain it,” she answered. “Lots of times, when you read a word in a book, or hear it said together with other words, it makes sense, even though you don't know what it means, exactly. It seems to fit, but you can't explain it. I think that logical means . . . .” She paused to ask him for the hammer, which she used to pound a nail into their fence.

“I think that logical means that things fit together right. Like in a puzzle, when a piece fits in only one way, or like . . . .” She searched for a better example while tying the end of a thread around the nail.

“Things work in a certain way. If you do things right, it's logical. When the tires were flat, I just stared at them and, of course, that didn't help. Doing that wasn't any more logical than crying or kicking the car. But you got the tire pump because you knew they needed air.
That
was logical!”

That satisfied him. He nodded to show he understood and then turned to their work.

Without much more conversation, they proceeded with the alarm system. From the nail on the fence, Lisa strung a black thread around the house on short stakes made from coat hangers. Anyone approaching their house would catch the thread just below the knees.

Next, on each side of the house, they ran threads through small holes in the window glass. Inside, they hung a rock over a carefully arranged stack of cans on each window sill. If an intruder broke through the thread, the rock would fall and topple the cans. The sound of clattering aluminum cans would be their alarm.

They were both clumsy with the tools, and it took several hours to complete the job. Lisa spent most of the time just thinking about what to do next.

When the alarm was finished, they stood on the sidewalk to make an inspection. “Good work, Toddy-boy,” she said. “You can't see a thing—the thread is almost invisible. Now let's see if it works. Go inside and stand by the living room window and listen. But don't touch anything. And Todd,” she called after him, “watch out for—” It was too late.

Running toward the house, eager to watch his creation work, Todd caught his legs on the thread. It broke and set off a loud clatter in the living room. Sheepishly, he turned to Lisa and surprised her by shouting, “That was not logical!”

Lisa laughed. Either I'm a good teacher, or he's a smart student, she thought. “But our alarm is logical,” she called back. “It works! I could even hear it from the sidewalk!”

They reset the front alarm and repeated the test on the other three sides of the house. After some minor adjustments in the back, the alarm system was finished.

During lunch, Lisa briefed him on the afternoon's work. First, they would make warning signs reading: PRIVATE PROPERTY, DO NOT GO BEYOND THE SIDEWALK. TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT. Next, they would make secret storage places inside the house. Todd listened carefully as she described a series of booby traps that they would make.

“The alarm system and the other things will be your responsibility, Toddy-boy. You'll have to check them every day to make sure they're working.” Her words made him feel important.

They set to work and, by four, most of the plan had been accomplished. On the roof in front and back they had rigged large boards that held back rocks and glass bottles. If an enemy approached, Todd would pull a wire to release the boards, causing an avalanche of stone and glass to roll down on the invaders.

For good measure, Lisa added a small note to the bottom of each warning sign:

She thought it was a good finishing touch. They put away the tools and went into the house to write the invitations for the meeting.

Her message was simple. She wanted to create a neighborhood militia for protection against the gangs. She hoped that the neighborhood children would attend the meeting and bring their ideas. The meeting would be held in the street in front of their house at two in the afternoon on Friday. In the invitation, Lisa also promised special refreshments.

As Lisa approached Julie's house to deliver the first invitation, she felt a new sense of excitement, almost as if she were going to meet a new friend. Since the day that Lisa had moved to Grand Avenue, six years before, they hadn't spoken or played together much. True, they had argued about a few things. But now they were both just trying to survive.

It was Charlie, not Julie, who answered the door. “What do you want, Lisa?” His tone was rude.

“I want to talk to Julie,” she said, wondering what his problem was. Maybe being the new man of the house had gone to his 10-year-old head. Or, she thought, maybe life with Julie and his other sister was getting to be too much for him. That possibility made her smile.

“What's so funny?” he demanded.

Forcing the smile away, she replied, “Nothing, Charlie. Will you call Julie? Please.”

“She's sick. You can go up to her room.” He let her in.

The house smelled awful and looked even worse. Danny, their English setter, had been living inside with them, and no one was bothering to clean up his messes. In fact, no one had cleaned up anything. The kitchen was full of dirty dishes and creepy little black bugs.

Lisa picked her way through the clutter and entered Julie's room. Julie was lying in her bed, eyes open, doing nothing. Several books were by her side and scattered across the floor.

“Hi, Julie. What's the matter?”

“Oh—hi, Lisa, I just feel kinda crummy. When I stand up sometimes I get dizzy. I don't know what it is.” Her voice was very soft.

Trying to be helpful, Lisa said, “Scott Kopel used to get dizzy like that. He took vitamins because his doctor said his diet wasn't right. You should take vitamins.”

Julie glared. It was the same old silly argument they used to have. “Lisa, your family is goofy about pills. Vitamins are a waste of time.”

“I know, Julie, that's what your mother used to tell you. But that was when she was here to feed you decent meals. What do you eat now? I think you should—”

The sight of Julie's tears stopped the argument. Lisa recalled her own words and guessed that the word “mother” had started the crying.

“I'm sorry, Julie. I was just trying to help.”

But Lisa had guessed wrong. It was the talk about food that had made her cry. Julie explained in rapid, nervous words that they were actually starving. Lisa guessed that this also explained Charlie's bad mood.

“Charlie has been out every day, but he can't seem to find any food. We've been eating Halloween candy and crackers for five days.” With a tiny bit of a smile, she added, “I never thought I'd say it, but I hate candy.”

“Why didn't you ask me for help, Julie? I would have helped you. I
will
help you. I'll be right back. Want some soup? I don't have your favorite chicken noodle, but—” Lisa started toward the door.

“Wait a minute, Lisa. There's something I have to tell you first.” Julie seemed nervous. She paused a while before continuing.

“The reason we didn't come to you was, well, ah, you see . . .” She stopped again.

“What is it, Julie? What's wrong?”

“Well,” Julie went on, forcing out the words, “we couldn't ask
you
for help. How could we? After stealing from you? Lisa, I'm sorry. I couldn't stop them.”

Lisa was stunned. She felt like slapping her sick friend. In disbelief she asked, “Do you mean that
you
were there yesterday with the gang that stole our supplies and beat up Todd?” It couldn't be true.

“Not exactly. I was here in bed, but I knew about it and I suppose I could have stopped them, but I didn't. So I'm guilty, and I'm truly sorry, Lisa. Will you forgive me?”

Lisa couldn't answer. Instead she asked, “How did you know about it?”

“The Chidester Gang was in the Triangle yesterday watching you make your trips for food. Tom Logan came to the door to ask Charlie to help steal the things in your driveway. Charlie wanted to join the gang because he didn't think there was anything else he could do. He didn't want to steal from
you,
Lisa. But Tom told him he had no choice. Either he helped them, or he would never get into the gang. So he helped, and I knew about it. I'm sorry.”

Lisa knew that Julie meant it. “Julie,” she said, “whatever you do, don't let Charlie stay with that gang. Nothing gets so bad that you have to start doing wrong things. There are better ways—ways that won't hurt anyone.

“Now, I'll get the soup while you talk to Charlie,” Lisa added. “By the way, why don't you have food if Charlie helped them steal all of my stuff yesterday?”

“It's a rule of the gang,” Julie answered. “New members don't share until they've been on three raids. Charlie is supposed to meet them tonight at eight for his second raid.”

Lisa left the room and passed Charlie on her way out. “Your sister wants to talk to you . . . now!” she told him angrily.

Julie and Charlie were still shouting in the upstairs room when Lisa returned with a bag of food. They must have had a real argument, thought Lisa. But the shouting stopped as soon as she slammed the front door.

The moment Lisa entered Julie's room, Charlie began to argue in his own defense. “We need food, and I can't find any by myself. I've looked for days. There just isn't any. The gang promised me that we would have food if I joined in. I didn't have a choice.”

“No choice, Charlie?” Lisa challenged him. “No choice but to steal from Todd and me so you can eat? Do you think I believe that?” She began walking toward him.

“Maybe if you spent less time feeling sorry for yourself, you could figure out something better. Right this minute I can give you a dozen ideas about how you can eat till you get old and fat, and none of them include stealing. But I'm not helping anyone who wants to live by stealing from me.”

“But, Lisa,” he pleaded, “we were scared. We thought we would die. Julie was sick, and there was no food and no one to take care of us. We're still scared. We're starving! It's my job to keep us alive and I'll do anything I—”

“Anything?” Lisa stopped him. “Even if it means hurting others? Listen, Charlie, nothing makes that okay. I don't care how scared you are.”

Lisa's angry words surprised even her. It wasn't that these ideas were new to her. She had heard them from her parents in many ways before. But now she could really understand why the ideas were so important. She and Todd were working hard and felt proud to live by their own efforts. When someone thought that hunger gave them the right to steal—now
that
made her mad.

“I'm not going to join the gang, Lisa,” Charlie promised.

“Sorry, but I don't trust you. And I won't give you much help. Not yet, at least. If you want some advice, here it is. There
are
places where you can find supplies. Take my word for it. Spend some time tonight thinking, instead of feeling sorry for yourself, and see if you can figure out where those supplies are. And if you don't want to be afraid anymore, then come to the meeting Friday and we'll make plans that will help us all.” Lisa handed him the notice.