part three: I sabotage my dad's efforts to find me

Something poked me in the side. I wondered a little if I'd dreamed it, but then it was soon accompanied by a woman's voice saying, "Julie... Julie, wake up!" I was on the verge of saying "Morning, Mom!" when I realized two things. Wait. I don't have a mom. That's kind of important. I must've been really asleep... and also, my name is Xiu Li, not Julie. This amount of mental exercise woke me up enough to drag my eyelids up, and I sat up suddenly to find Annalisa standing over me. We might have bonked heads. I refuse to tell you.


"Why are you so jumpy?" said Annalisa. I didn't say anything. It would sound pretty stupid to tell her that I thought she was my mom until I realized I'd never had a mom. Wouldn't it? Yes, I decided. She went on, "Come on, you work now, remember? We have to get you to work pretty soon."


I think I should clarify that I am part of an endangered species called Morning People. I got up and threw my clothes on. Yuck. I stank pretty badly. I made a note to myself to ask Annalisa later if there was anywhere to shower. My fear was that she'd tell me she never showered, and let's face it, that's just gross. Also, can you say you're making a note to yourself without actually writing one down? Because I didn't. I just promised myself I'd think about it.


I told Annalisa to go along to work, and that I'd catch up with her. I made a show of being really slow to gather up my things, so she wouldn't be tempted to wait, and it worked. I wasn't sure whether or not I should tell her about Dmitri. I figured it was best to play it safe. Of course, I'm a fugitive living in the electrical tunnels under the city with a mystery girl. That's hardly playing it safe.


After Annalisa left, muttering that I was just too slow, I gathered up my things about five times faster than I'd been pretending to do, and then ran over to Casa D'Waffle and bought a waffle. Then I made my journey back up to the roof. I wished I'd brought a sweater, it was getting kind of windy and chilly up there. Dmitri didn't seem to mind, though. He smiled at me when I showed up with the waffle, and gratefully took it. But some of the animals didn't seem to really like the coldish weather.


Without prompting, Dmitri launched into one of his stories. It seems to be a thing he does a lot. But I really didn't mind, seeing as he has good stories and tells them wonderfully. And his accent is marvelous. This particular story was about one time he and his brother skipped school and got in huge trouble. When he finished that one, he seamlessly transferred into another one where he slipped and fell through ice. I know it's terrible, but I couldn't stop laughing at that one. It was comical.


"I convince myself that fish hide under ice," he said. "So I tell Yuri, 'Yuri, why do we not try to break ice and catch fish for eating?' and of course, my brother, he knows I fall, but he thinks funny, Dmitri falling in freezing water. So he says 'Sure, Dmitri, I stand here and spear fish, and you go put hole in ice.'" I was giggling. I'd never had a sibling, but I liked the interaction between him and his brother. It reminded me of my friend Caila, whose older brothers pranked her all the time. "So I go onto ice," continued Dmitri, "and I of course stomp around, because is fabuloful way to break ice. Very safe. And what knowing! Ice breaks, and I sploosh into freezing pond. I scream. Yuri laughs, but then notices me freezing to my death and comes running out onto ice and I 'YURI, do not fall too, Yuri!' He does not fall. He grabs hand and puulllls me to ground, and we run to Mama, she give me warm drink and blanket. I was lucky, I did not get sick. My friend Alexei, he got very sick from ice, almost died once."


He told a couple more stories, and then I had to leave for work. I never know if I'm supposed to talk back or tell stories back, but it's worth bringing food to him to hear the stories. I wondered if he thought we were friends. Not really something you can just ask people, is it?


Work was pretty uneventful today. Honestly, working in a shoe store is hardly high-adrenaline labor. But in the spirit of storytelling, here are five little anecdotes from today.

A Day At Shoes & Etc. (a ministory by Xiu Li Zheng)


1. The second customer of the day came in and tried on women's tennis shoes for about an hour. When she finally came to the checkout line with her shoes of choice, she asked me if it was possible to buy three shoes instead of two. In hindsight, I should have asked "Left or right?" but I didn't think fast enough. I gaped at her. (Is that the right verb? It sounds a bit dirty.) "Why?" Her confident reply?: "For my cat."
I spent the entire morning wondering why a cat would need an extra tennis shoe.


2. Two girls older than me (seniors, maybe) came in around 10 skipping school. They were super obnoxious, and basically spent their first half hour leaving shoes on the floor, mismatching them, pretending it was original to act like you're on a fashion runway, and laughing the most shrill laughs I had ever heard. I really wanted to punch them. I exchanged glances with Annalisa, who rolled her eyes. The most redeeming part of this, though, (there had to be something, or I never would have bothered telling you this awful story) is that the taller one tried to put on one of the tiny little kids' boots, and got her foot stuck. After about fifteen minutes of trying to get it out, she started getting really pissed off and her friend kept laughing at her. Then she tried to chase her friend around, but it was difficult, because her foot was stuck halfway in a pink plastic boot. She demanded that Annalisa had to help her get the boot off, but Annalisa said something snarky about that not being covered in her contract, and gave her a smirk. The shorter one was still calling Stuck Boot Girl an evil stepsister, like, repeatedly, and saying that she was obviously Cinderella since she'd gotten her foot out of the boot. Oh, my god. Shut up. Finally I gave in and helped SBG yank the boot off of her large, fat foot.


3. Right before lunchtime, a voice came over the intercom. It said, "Hello?" Annalisa and I both may have said hello back, but I don't want to talk about it. The voice then said, "Hey, there, babe. I've got some free time." I looked at Annalisa, and she looked at me. The voice belonged to the store manager, and she was clearly leaning on the intercom button in her office. By the time our thoughts had processed what was going on, she giggled. "I guess so. I've never done it over the phone before." OH GOD NO. I frantically tried to decide whether or not it was more awkward to knock on her door and tell her, but my mind was made up for me when she announced, "It's okay, babe, the door is locked, and I just got naked for you." An old lady who'd been looking at the expensive comfy shoes looked up, crossed herself, and left. Thankfully, she was the only customer in the store at that time. I'll spare you the details, but the store manager proceeded to have phone sex with her boyfriend or whoever that was. It was incredibly awkward, and Annalisa and I purposefully avoided looking at each other. God, it was awful. I promised myself that if I ever got involved with someone, I would avoid electronic relations at all costs. Right before lunch, the store manager came back out of her office (now clothed), and seemed baffled as to why we weren't looking at her. I don't think anyone ever told her.


4. After the lunch break, a man came in and asked me very politely where he might find the men's sweaters. I responded that Shoes & Etc. was not a department store, and that we mostly sold shoes. I recommended he try Flenox Mall, and take the bus. He thanked me and left. About ten minutes later, though, he came in and asked me again. I tried to be patient and told him the same information. He left again, and came back five minutes later and asked Annalisa the same question. The fourth time, I told him that we'd already had this conversation, and Shoes & Etc. did not carry any sweaters. By the seventh time I was pretty pissed at him, and yelled at him that DIDN'T HE HAVE A MEMORY and some other things employees probably shouldn't say. He finally blew up at me and told me that he was going to file a lawsuit against Shoes & Etc., because sweaters are obviously included in "etc." and we needed to be more truthful in our advertising. Then, finally, he left for good.


5. Okay, so I just needed a fifth story. I wasn't actually there for this; I was working the checkout counter when it happened. Annalisa was apparently putting away shoes in the formal area when she noticed a man just standing in there. She says that occasionally this happens because some people have really odd attachments to shoes (I didn't ask), but this guy looked different, so she left him alone. After awhile, a woman about his age came into the store and went into the formal shoe area, where he dropped to one knee and asked her to marry him. Apparently they'd met in a shoe store two years before. My version of the story goes like this, though:
Working the checkout counter, blah, blah SCREEECCCCHHH YES!!! OF COURSE I WILL!!!
That's all I heard, anyway. At least she said yes.


Other than that, not much actually happened.


I took my daily pay and went back up to the roof to hear some more of Dmitri's hilarious stories, carrying a sandwich with me. It was just starting to get dark, so the temperature was dropping, and I worried again for the animals. I gave Dmitri the sandwich, which he ate gratefully, and I sat there awaiting a story. But he didn't say anything. He just sat there in silence, lost in thought. Finally, he looked up and shrugged apologetically. I didn't want to leave without hearing a story, so I asked him if he'd retell the ice one from earlier. 


He nodded, and told the same story again. It was just as funny the second time, honestly. (Maybe it's just that I'm the kind of person who will keep laughing at something long after it's over... and I love rereading books and rewatching movies.) But by then it was dark. I said goodbye and made my way back to the roof exit, but then something occurred to me. I stopped.


"Dmitri... do you mind if I take some of the animals with me?"
He shook his head. And so it was that I took two dogs, a cat, and a bunch of lizards down the stairs of Castle Apartments and back to the electrical tunnels.


Have you ever tried to carry five lizards? You may think you can just grab them, but unfortunately it's not that easy. Lizards, I soon discovered, really enjoy trying to commit suicide by jumping out of your hands and falling down the stairs. They're pretty durable little creatures, though, so the two that succeeded in escaping my grasp and falling into gravity's were completely unsuccessful in dying. (Thankfully, the dogs and cat were cooperative.) It took me forever to get all the animals out of the building, and the one person I passed on the stairs seemed to think that I was an absolute nutcase. 


When I finally stumbled back down the tunnel to Annalisa's little housenook, with all of my brand-new friends, she was already there. She looked really mystified. Wait, that was anger... "What in God's name is going on here?! This isn't a freaking zoo!"


I hadn't thought far enough ahead to know what I was going to do with the animals. That was probably pretty stupid. 


"And where have you been all afternoon?"


I decided that maybe I should tell her about Dmitri after all, to clear some things up. So I did.


When I finished my abridged tale, she had a completely unreadable expression on her face. "Why did he have all of these animals in the first place? Can't we just take them to the pet shop or something?" I was flattered that she'd said "we." At least now I had someone to help me with this little problem of mine. I hadn't asked Dmitri where he'd gotten all the animals, but it seemed pretty logical to just take them back to the pet shop. Thanks, Annalisa, for making me look like a total idiot. 


She picked up the cat and I sort of picked up the lizards, and off we went. I didn't know it was common to keep lizards as pets. Or at least I didn't think people ever really bought them. But I rolled with the plan. As we walked up the block to the store, though, there was a little problem. I have pretty good vision, so I was absolutely positive that the guy walking into the pet store was my dad.


Well, CRAP. Again. 


"Annalisa," I said, "we aren't going to take these animals to the pet shop."
"What? Why?" she said. 
"I'll explain later. But please. Don't make me go in that store."
We stopped walking. "Well, then, what are we going to do with all these freaking animals?" she asked. A reasonable question, without a doubt. "Let's go leave the lizards in the creek at the park, for starters," I said, and started walking again, faster. I didn't want my dad to come back out of the pet store while I was still here. Annalisa shook her head, gave me a look, and followed me.


I was at my peak powerwalking speed when we passed the pet shop itself, and I glanced in through the window. My dad was in the pet food area, and the store owner was standing there looking impatient. Good, they hadn't seen me. I wondered why there were so few animals actually in the--


Oh. I felt stupid. One of the dogs ran into my leg at that moment, and its collar jingled. Alfonso's Pet Store. I should've known... why would Dmitri take from the pet store, though? I promised myself I'd remember to ask him that.


Annalisa tugged on my sleeve. "Julie... um?" She sounded really concerned. I looked up. "Sorry. We should go, I didn't mean to delay us."
"Do you spell your name funny?" 
I blinked. What was she talking about? 
"Uh, well, I've been meaning to correct you, my name is Xiu Li, not Julie. So yeah, I guess it's spelled funny... but seriously, now's not the time. We have to go." I started walking.
Annalisa grabbed my arm forcefully. "You have a lot of explaining to do," she said, and pushed me towards the pet shop's door. I blinked. Hello, me. There was a poster with my face on it. My face, under the words "MISSING DAUGHTER." My dad must've hung it up when he went into the pet shop.


Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap! I couldn't let him leave these posters up! Not only was the picture terrible (it was my school picture... hello, metalmouth...), but the police would certainly recognize me and call my dad if they saw. I gingerly removed the poster, tape and all, from the pet shop door, and ran. I didn't know how much longer I had until my dad came out of the pet shop.


Annalisa sprinted after me, and we didn't stop running until we got to the park. We didn't say a word to each other as we watched the lizards run off down the banks of the little creek. Better than a roof, I guess.


I looked down at the poster in my hand, which was legible in the light from a nearby lamppost: MISSING DAUGHTER: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS TEEN?
God, I felt awful. Of course my dad would look for me. He had no idea that I was on the run from the police. The headline-thingy was followed by an afternote: "she's not in trouble, just missed dreadfully!"
Aww... Dad... 
I hadn't noticed I was crying at all until a tear fell on the poster, right next to another afternote at the bottom of the page: "and she's not a stripper."
That made me giggle, because I had no idea what he was talking about. Though, come to think of it, I had been on the stage at Isabella's. Oops. But how would Dad know that? (I blocked that thought process.)


Sometimes I get lost in my own mind, I guess. I'd also forgotten that Annalisa was even there. She put a hand on my shoulder. "Julie-- I mean, whatever your name is-- let's go home. We can keep the dogs and the cat for now." I blinked. "You go ahead," I told her. "I have some posters to take down."


She nodded, and walked off with the animals. I cautiously walked back over near the pet store. It was closed now, and there wasn't anyone there. So I spent about a half an hour walking back and forth down the streets, taking down every "missing daughter" poster I could find.


I finally ventured back to the electrical tunnels, with a pile of paper in my hand. Annalisa was feeding the dogs, and the cat was already eating. "I'm back," I told her, and flopped down on my sleeping bag, which was really dumb, since those aren't very cushioned from things like floors. Ow, my nose...


Thankfully, Annalisa hadn't seen that. I lay there for a few minutes before she came over and nudged me with her foot. "Hey, runaway. Get up, I have dinner."
Dinner was dried fruit and some takeout waffles, but I was still really appreciative. Annalisa waited until I was done eating all the dried pineapple before she asked me, "So, what's going on? You clearly didn't tell me everything."


"Well," I said, "my dad's birthday was a few days ago. I went to the mall to get him a present, but then I got stuck because someone stole my purse and I didn't have bus fare. I got back at 4 in the morning, and overslept in my neighbor's apartment. So then I went to the post office to see if I could leave him a message or wait there, or something, but this really obnoxious guy threatened me and trashtalked my dad, so I may have gotten in a fight with him." I paused. "I hope that wasn't Dad's boss." 


Annalisa nodded. "So that's why you were running from the police?"
"Yeah. Obnoxious guy succeeded eventually in calling them, so then I ran from the police and even escaped the back of the police car. From there, the orphanage was the closest building... and you know the rest."


She didn't say anything for a few seconds, and then she asked me, "So, why don't you go back to your dad? Why'd you take down the posters?"


I didn't actually have an answer to the first question, so I ignored it. "I took down the posters so the police don't harass Dad."


She was relentless. "Why don't you go back to him?"
"I will. Just not yet." I honestly didn't know what I was doing.
"So you're living in electrical tunnels with me, working a minimum wage job, and you're destroying your dad's efforts to find you? That doesn't make any sense, Julie-- wait, how do you say it again?"
"Xiu Li," I said. 
"Right. That. You can't just disappear. You have to confront your dad eventually. Frankly, he'll probably just be happy to see you."
"I'm a fugitive," I told her. "And I have the job so I can get him the money to fix his truck. The nasty post office guy mentioned something about Dad pushing a shopping cart to deliver the mail. I'll go home when I have the money."
Annalisa just shook her head. "You don't have to pay off your dad in order to go home," she said. I didn't say anything. She didn't understand.


Dinner was gone, so we got ready to go to bed. She suggested we name the dogs and cat. I named the cat Persephone, and she named the bigger dog Macho. We fought for a bit over what to name the little dog. I wanted to name her Mona, and Annalisa wanted to name her Wonderbitch. Honestly, that's stupid. You can't name dogs profanely. It's just not okay. 


After a little bit of yelling, we somehow ended up with Sparklefairy. I think that actually may be a stupider name than either one of the original options, but so it goes.


I lay in my sleeping bag, staring at the ceiling. Annalisa hadn't started snoring yet, so she definitely wasn't asleep. "Hey," I said. "I told you what my deal is. What's yours?"


"Really?" she asked. "It's not nearly as exciting as your story. But if you really want to know, I'll tell you."


I guess she assumed I did want to know (thankfully, that was correct), since she went right into the story.


She was an orphanage kid. It was okay. Not great, not awful. But five years ago, when she was 12 (haHA! she was 17! I felt triumphant!), they had a food shortage, and got really desperate for people to take the kids. I was sympathetic to that, since I think that's why Dad adopted me. Anyway, so someone volunteered to adopt her. On the day when her new parents were supposed to show up, they were supposed to come into the city by bus, and so the orphanage ladies sent her with her little suitcase to go wait at the stop. 

Unfortunately, they never showed up, which really upset her. So she went back to the orphanage, where they were having dinner. She went back to her little room, but they'd already cleaned out all the evidence that she'd ever been there. She felt like she'd been sold on clearance or something, and felt really unloved. 


In a little fit of emotions, she went to the bathroom to cry, and noticed the grate under the sink. She opened it up and climbed down the ladder, and set up a new life for herself.  The orphanage never even knew she hadn't been adopted.


She managed to work out with the store manager-- we both giggled at this point-- a way to work underage at Shoes & Etc. And the rest of it was pretty obvious.
She really didn't have anyone who really knew what had happened to her, until I fell on her and came to live with her under the tunnels. And now she had no education (she couldn't go to school without a legal residence), no future, and no anything. 


"That's kind of morbid, no?" I said. She ignored me.
"My name isn't even Annalisa," she said. "I changed it when I left, and no one even knew."
"What was your name?"
"Jane," she said. "But if I have to live under a city, I need some glamour, don't I?"
I didn't answer. I think that was rhetorical.


She didn't say anything else, and pretty soon she started snoring.


Persephone curled up next to me, and I gradually fell asleep. Before I started dreaming, though, something occurred to me.


We didn't have any pets. Why was Dad in Alfonso's shop, anyway?

part two: befriending some strangers and fighting others

I woke up a few hours later, a bit disoriented. Where was I? Oh, I was on a couch. Oh, I wasn't at home. Oh, it was 10 in the morning and I was skipping school. 


Well, CRAP.


I considered going back to our apartment, but unfortunately, I still didn't have the key and I knew my dad would be at work by now. He was probably really mad at me; I wondered what he was thinking I was up to. I had never done anything this rebellious before. Not that I was being rebellious on purpose! What was I supposed to do, though? I couldn't go to school in this state. Seriously, I was really really smelly, and my hair was awful, and besides, it was already quite a bit into the school day. My third period teacher would probably not appreciate my being this late, and then she'd call my dad... and he'd think I was skipping... and oh, god, how did I even get myself into this?


I had nowhere to go, but uh, I was kind of still being a bit of an intruder in Ms. Lannes' apartment. So I awkwardly left and shut the door. She was probably asleep. (I just said 'kind of' a couple sentences ago. That still counts. Darn.)


You know how people stereotype girls for just crying when they get in bad situations? I propagated that stereotype at this time. You can just shut up about it, too, because I bet you've never accidentally not come home after not buying your dad a birthday present and not having bus fare. That was a lot of negatives just now. Sorry. But anyway, I debated what to do, and I made a very logical decision and ran up to the roof. I'd been up there a few times to look at the city, with a couple of my friends. But I'd never gone up there to wallow in self-pity. This was new.


I pushed open the door to the roof and walked over to my favorite corner, only instead of looking at the view I dropped down crosslegged and started crying silently. The tears were blurring my eyes, and I had to blink them out in order to see the tent a few feet away. Who lives on the roof? There hadn't been anyone before.


I sniffled once and stopped crying. Then I walked around the other side. A guy was sitting there with a lot of animals. It was like he was a crazy cat lady, except there were lots of animals besides cats. And he wasn't a lady. So I said hi. He looked up, a bit startled. I guess there usually weren't teenage girls running around on the roof. Then he said hi back. I sat down, and we were silent-but-not-necessarily-awkward for a little while, petting the animals and feeling the wind rushing by. After awhile, he started talking.


He wasn't American. I figured this out because he was talking about his 'home country,' which I soon figured out must be Russia. I think he said it was Russia. But he had a very Russian accent, which I kept having to resist the urge to imitate. He told me a few stories about the animals in Russia, and about his house there, and about his brother Something Russian Sounding who once hid his underwear when he was six. I personally wouldn't have told that last story to a random stranger... but I was flattered that I looked that trustworthy.


I sat and listened attentively for awhile. The guy obviously didn't have any food. I shuddered at the thought of him eating all of the animals. That was probably really judgmental and racist of me. Except he was white... country-of-originist? I needed to bring him something to eat, I concluded. He was being so nice talking to me about things I really didn't ask to hear. Not that it wasn't entertaining. I wonder what he was thinking, though. Oh, look! A random hobolooking teenage girl! How about I tell her stories from my childhood? Yeah, that made perfect sense...


He finished a story, and I bid him farewell and left. Ha, I sound so fancy. I've never actually said the word farewell out loud. Point being, I left the roof and went down the stairs. Where to get him food? 


Wait, priorities. I was a runaway now. I had to find my dad. 

I decided to go to the post office. Even if my dad wasn't there, I could explain to his boss or secretary or something. I won't waste time telling you about my walk over there, except that I did pass a bum who said something that I probably should've known the origin of. Some deep quote or something. But I'm only barely scraping my A in American Literature. So I don't know what it was.


I waltzed into the post office with the nonchalance of a truant. At first there wasn't anyone there, but then this dude with way too much hair gel and an annoying face (you know what I mean, right? Some people just look annoying) came into the room. "This area is for employees, little girl." He glared at me. "Eh, it's okay," I told him. Haughty, condescending people really push my buttons, and I've noticed they really hate it when you pretend like you own the world. Especially when you say 'it's okay' without having any reason to do so... hm, it's hard to explain. "My dad works here." "Oh, he does?" said Obnoxious Hairgel Man. (Hey! That spells OHM!) "I suppose that gives you the privileges of an employee. Well, here's some news for you, miss. You'd better get out of this authorized area before I call the police on you for trespassing." 


Dude needed to take himself a chill pill. Like, for realz. 


"It's okay," I told him, and watched his face turn redder. Wow, this was fun! "I won't stay long, as much as I'd like to get to know you. I'm just looking for someone to deliver a message to my dad." 
"Who's your dad?" he snarled. "He ought to be ashamed of his daughter's cheeky disrespectful behavior. I would caution you to leave before his parenting shows in his salary."
"My dad is Renshu Zheng," I told him. To my surprise, he stopped looking angry and laughed like an evil maniac. (I hate it when people do that.)
"Well, that would explain a lot," he said. "Your father is already pushing around a shopping cart instead of driving his proper mail truck, because he has the same lack of respect that his daughter does. I don't feel that cutting his salary would be enough to teach your good-for-nothing father a lesson. No! He needs to earn back the money for his mail truck repairs. Just as you're going to have to earn your way out of jail for trespassing." He picked up his phone.
Wait, WHAT? I knew this guy was crazy, but-- the hell? My dad was pushing a shopping cart to deliver mail? Why did he have to pay for the mail truck repairs? Uh, oh. He was dialing the phone...


I had to think fast. This guy was clearly an asshole. He was about to call the police on me for trespassing. I was already a truant and a runaway... and also really really mad at him. Like, double really.


So I did what anyone would've done. I gave OHM my best primordial scream and tackled him, full-force. Probably not the most logical thing to have done, but it was incredibly satisfying. He fell to the floor, catching himself as best he could, but still left a very noticeable smudge of hair gel on the tiles. "You little bitch," he hissed. "You're even worse than your father." With an enormous shove, he pushed me off of him and rolled over on top of me, pinning me down. Then he slapped me across the face. I refused to give him the satisfaction of showing how much that hurt. (I am stoic! Hooray!) Instead, I freed my other hand and wait, I had a better idea. I managed to free my leg and kneed him in the balls. His face contorted in pain, and he stood up and ran for his office, and, slamming the door so I couldn't stop him, finished dialing his phone.


I couldn't hear some of what he was saying through the door, but maybe I should've just run off instead of pressing my ear to the door trying. (You know, sometimes the biggest strokes of genius are just a little bit delayed.) He came out of the office grinning evilly at me a minute later, and before I could do anything or even say something to piss him off, he grabbed me and threw me in the copier room. (Well, you know what I mean. People rarely throw people. He just pushed me really hard.) Then he locked the door. That was a little stupid on his part, since that doesn't lock the door from the inside. Idiot. I easily opened the door and came out of the copier room, and I tried to make a break for the exit, but he knocked me down and pinned me again. 


At this moment, it occurred to me that I had absolutely no idea how I'd gotten myself into this mess. There's a lot of time for reflection when you're pinned to the floor, immobilized. I know he was being a jerk... but this whole situation had gotten pretty out of hand. I struggled to get up. Nope. I watched as blue lights filled the room. The police car had arrived outside the post office. I was not about to add 'criminal' to my list of sins, so I mustered up (can you say that, or is that not the right use of that word? I mean mustered, not up) all my strength and wrenched myself from OHM's grasp. Then I socked him in the stomach before he could stand up. The police came running into the room just as I delivered a second slightly amateurish punch to his stomach. Uh-oh. This didn't look at all like it was. "GET HER!" yelled OHM. And with that, I ran. I threw open the door and ran down the block, with the police after me. Honestly, I didn't think I'd ever type that sentence when I woke up this morning in Ms. Lannes' apartment. But so it was. I wish I was a runner and not a swimmer sometimes, though. That would've come in handy. I rounded the corner where Castle Apartments stood and took off up the street. I saw the police looking confused for just a second, and I took my chance. I went behind the nearest building and hid. They must have seen me go after all, since they chased me around the back of the building. I saw a door and went through it.


I guess karma was on OHM's side. I went through the door and burst onto the stage at Isabella's Cafe. (Yet another sentence I didn't think I'd type.) There were two very surprised women wearing less clothing than I would've liked them to. Their astonishment was nothing compared to the awkward-looking dudes who'd been gawking at them, though... I guess they weren't too turned on by a chloriney teenager in a T-shirt and jeans. I briefly wondered if they would think otherwise if I was in my swimsuit. So sue me. I do have some shapely hips. I always wonder-- if I had a mom, would she tell me I'm pretty? I always hear about moms doing that kind of thing. All Dad says on the matter is that "I must be pretty, since I look exactly the opposite of how he does." Hilarious. 


I realize I haven't clarified why my dad is a short Chinese man and I'm a pretty tall white chick. I'll get to that in a bit, but remember? I was running from the police? Ugh, my attention span is like a goldfish off its ADHD meds. 


Right... so... where was I? Isabella's! Of course. There was one police officer actually in the audience, who I wouldn't've noticed except that he ducked theatrically under the table and banged his head. HA! He must've known the guys who were chasing me. I winked at him and shook my hips. I suppose I have a promiscuous side. I wasn't aware of that before, so I made a mental note to try and keep that under control, in case it became a problem.


The police chased me across the stage, hence the aforementioned ducking man, and out the front door of the establishment. Did this count as a second trespassing incident? I wasn't sure. Should've paid more attention in civics, although I'm not sure they cover being chased by the police and how to handle it. Honestly, I'd probably have stayed awake if that was our topic of discussion...


That's not the point, though. I wish to file an official complaint against the city for having bad curb-cuts, since I tripped over one at this time. Skinned my knee up, too, but I wasn't really worried about Band-Aids or Neosporin right then. I couldn't really have put a Band-Aid on anyway, since my hands were now handcuffed behind my back. (I feel like "hands" and "handcuffed" make that sentence redundant. Ugh.) 


Well, bummer! Understatement of the year, really. 


I rode back to the station in a police car. The little part of me that is a four-year-old boy was very excited to be in a real police car. The bigger part of me that is a fifteen-year-old girl was really scared and honestly kind of (crap! there I go again!) puzzled as to how I'd become so... so delinquent this morning. Although I felt like a badass. And the little voice in my head that says what my father would went something like this: "You did WHAT?"


I had to stop them from calling my dad. They couldn't know I was related to him. And I didn't want to be arrested, either. 


I took a deep breath and did another rebellious thing. Funny how contagious it is, being rebellious. Like, honestly. I've never been drunk, I don't know what pot smells like, and I've never kissed anyone. But I can guarantee you I was the first one in my friend group (except maybe Elise) to ride in the back of a police car. And even if not, I was certainly the first one to open the door with my foot and jump out when the light turned red. I guess they don't have a lot of experience arresting people... don't they usually lock the back of police cars? They didn't notice until the light turned green, either. By then, I was gone. 


The closest building now was the orphanage. (I laughed a bit at this, since I was actually adopted from that very same orphanage. By my then-18-year-old dad. For some reason, people always think it's funny that I'm white but have an Asian dad... it's normal the other way around, though. Weird.) I ran into the building as fast as I possibly could, ignoring the sharp pain coming from my bleeding knee. I didn't want anyone to ask me what I was doing, so I reverted to my feminine instincts. That is, I went straight for the bathroom. 


No sooner had I flung open the door than I ran into the sink with the gracefulness of a hippopotamus and fell... into a hole in the floor. Right on top of a girl who had been climbing out of the hole.


We both screamed and fell about fifteen feet into the dark. I landed on top of her and yelled a bunch of profanity. I didn't want to have killed her. On second thought, I hoped she wasn't too young, because that little outburst of swearing was a bit strong... 


"Shit," said the girl I was now on top of. (Never mind about my language, then.) She freed one of her arms, and, with a clicking noise, made a really bright light appear in my face. Oh. I guess I could stand up now. And not dig my elbows into an invisible stranger's stomach. (Stupid handcuffs were still on my wrists.) She wasn't invisible now, though. She was pretty tall, like six feet, and from my terrible age approximation was about two years older than me. Also wearing a headlamp. I guess I was just gawking, though. She glared at me. 


"What the hell? We just fell like five yards. I could actually be hurt right now, you know." Mystery Girl brushed herself off and stood up, too. Maybe it was the shock of having fallen into a hole in a bathroom floor, and maybe it was the stress catching up to me from my chase scene, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything. "Why were you in such a hurry, anyway?" She seemed determined to talk to me. I still didn't say anything. I'm the world's most gregarious person, and I didn't say anything. "What is your freaking problem!?" she said. 


I probably looked like a deer in headlights at that point. Or, more realistically, a girl in a headlamp. Her face went from angry to exasperated. "Okay, okay. I'm not being very polite. What's your name?"


Well, that was easy and probably not rhetorical. "Xiu Li," I said. Just like the rest of the universe, she misheard me. "Well, Julie," she said, "I'm Annalisa. I'm sorry for being all pissy at you." She sighed. "Most people in the orphanage don't even know about this tunnel." 
Tunnel?
I looked around the dark cavern and sure enough, there was a tunnel heading off to who knows where. It felt like a freaking movie or something. No one has secret tunnels. 
"Why is there a tunnel here, anyway?" I had to know.
"The workers use it to fix the electrical cables from underneath the city. It's only been here a few years, actually. But that's not what I use it for."
You know when people say a sentence and it's beyond obvious that you have a question to ask? Yeah. That was one of them. 
"What do you use it for?" I inquired. So original.
"I live here," she said. "There's a nice nook in the wall about a quarter mile down the tunnel, and I sleep there and store my stuff." I kind of (darn!) wanted to ask her about how she'd come to live in the electrical tunnels under the city. That's really not normal. I was going to ask, even! But I was interrupted.
"So, what brought you here? You're not from the orphanage."
How did I even begin to explain this?
"I'm a newly initiated juvenile delinquent," I told her. "I may have escaped a cop car." I turned around so she could see the handcuffs. I'd almost forgotten about those. 
"What'd you do?" she asked.
"I was in the authorized area of the post office, because my dad works there, and this guy got really mad at me... he was insulting me, my dad, and everything. So I decked him."
"You were arrested for attacking a grown man?" She looked skeptical. 
I nodded. She looked like she didn't believe me, but didn't say anything else.


I'd been so busy falling on people that I had completely ignored the problem at hand. I didn't want my dad to know about my run-in with the police. He's a nice guy, and all, but, I mean, he kind of grounded me once for staying out an hour past curfew. I didn't think I'd ever see the light of day if I went home. But I couldn't just abandon him. He was probably wondering where I was already. 
I made up my mind. I wasn't going home. Even if I didn't tell Dad about the whole police thing, they'd probably recognize me, and I didn't want him to be associated with my tarnished name. (Tee, hee! I have a tarnished name!) But the least that I could do was to make it up to him somehow. OHM had mentioned my dad having to pay back his broken truck money. Maybe I could get the money somehow and pay him back.


Annalisa watched me cautiously while I thought, and spoke when I looked up. "Let's get those handcuffs off of you," she said. The best idea since sliced bread. Except that I don't actually know who thought of sliced bread. They actually probably weren't that smart, since it doesn't take a genius to figure out that it's more practical to slice the loaf of bread. Anyway, Annalisa went behind my back and did something with her hairpin. The handcuffs were on the floor in less than a minute. I pretended like I wasn't that impressed. "Thanks," I said. But it was time to talk practical matters.


"So, how do you get your food and money and stuff if you live under the city?"
She blinked. "I have a job at the shoe store."
I felt stupid. Sometimes people have legit reasons for stuff. I vowed to remember that in the future.
"Is there any chance I could get a job there, too?"
"Probably," said Annalisa. "We don't have a specific opening, but we can ask my boss. Wait, though. Where do you live?"
"I live in Castle Apartments. But I can't go home now. Not after today."
She looked like she was going to say something, and didn't. I hate it when people do that. It makes me want to grab them by the shoulders and shake them and yell WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO SAY? (Unfortunately, my fifth grade teacher didn't like that explanation.)
"Well, I guess you can stay with me for a little while, if you want." Wow, the enthusiasm was killing me here.


Even though it was midafternoon, Annalisa agreed to take me to her boss. We exited the tunnel through a manhole on the corner of Benson Street. Her boss was pretty chill, honestly. I started work that afternoon, which wasn't really worth commenting on, since all I did was be the checkout counter girl. I shuddered to think this was my future, but I had a mission. Annalisa told me to come back to the tunnel whenever I finished, and promised me she would try to get something for me to sleep on. She was being quite the hospitable hostess. 


Anyway, I left around seven o'clock with 22 dollars and fifty cents. It was only when I glimpsed the grocery store on the way back to the tunnel that I remembered my promise to myself. I ducked into the grocery store and bought a loaf of bread, an orange, and a half-gallon of milk, and went to go see the guy on the roof. I went into Castle Apartments and up the stairs like a ninja, in case anyone saw me. (In case you're wondering, going up the stairs like a ninja is kind of like regular going-up-the stairs, except that you take them by twos and stick to the wall.) It's good that I'm in shape... t'was a lot of stairs.


When I came out on the roof, the guy looked kind of surprised to see me. I gave him the food, and he nodded gratefully and thanked me. Then he told me another couple of stories, almost like he owed me something for the food. I managed to figure out that his name was Dmitri. 


After my little storytelling detour, I went back down the stairs and found the manhole on Benson again. I followed the light at the end of the tunnel (ha!) towards Annalisa's headlamp. "How was work?" she said absentmindedly. I blinked. We were standing in her little house-nook. There was a bed and a dresser, and even pictures hanging on the wall. It was ridiculous, and made me wonder exactly how long she'd lived there. Somehow, she'd acquired a sleeping bag for me (I tried not to think about where it had been or how she'd gotten it), which I crawled into gratefully. Ugh. I could smell myself. I really needed a shower. My knee seemed to have scabbed, though, so at least that was okay... I just hoped it didn't get infected or something.


As I fell asleep, I thought about my day. I was a delinquent girl now. I hoped Dad wasn't too worried. I promised I'd deliver the money for his truck as soon as I could. I hadn't planned what I would do after that.


Ugh. What a long day. I fell asleep on the hard tunnel floor as if it were memory foam. 

part one: longest. day. ever.

I don't think I'll ever get used to the racket that our above-us-neighbors (is that a word? I guess I just made it up) make. Like, seriously. They're really loud. Well, not them, but their pipes make a ton of noise. At any rate, so all that mess started at like... hm. I don't remember. I was asleep. Sort of, anyway. I shoved my extra pillow over my head and tried to drown it out. Surprisingly, that was enough that I caught a couple extra winks. Until my marvelous dad, who must have been woken up by the noise, decided that 5 o'clock in the morning is the perfect time to watch television. What the hell, Dad? And he just had to turn it up to-- wait for it, I would've thought this was impossible-- louder than the Room 704 Racket. That was just smashing. (I like the word 'smashing.' It sounds British. I kinda wish I had a British accent, just a little. Then I'd be a blonde American girl with a Chinese name and a British accent. How cool can you get?) But I guess it was his birthday. I couldn't remember how old he was. 


Well, now I was awake. So I got up and went into the living room. I don't really mind getting up early, honestly. Just the noise was annoying. I sat down on the couch. I could hear my dad doing something in the kitchen, so I watched the TV. (If only I could hear it over the racket! Oh, wait.) Of all things, he was torturing our poor speakers in order to watch a nature program. About slugs. Did you know? Slugs are possibly the least fascinating creatures in the animal kingdom. According to Dr. Davis Rodriguez, the Special Guest! on the show, though, they were definitely the bee's knees. He had wanted to be a mollusk biologist since he was fifteen years old. (I wonder if his friends knew about this problem. If he had any.) Here's a piece of advice: don't watch early morning television.


My dad came back out of the kitchen, providing a much-wanted distraction to the slug show. I yelled at him. Nicely, though. The kind of yelling that says "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD!" Unfortunately, I had two competitors in the noise category, named The Illustrious Banging Pipes of Room 704 and Dr. Davis Rodriguez, Slug Expert. I wasn't sure if he'd heard me. He did respond, though, but Dr. Davis Rodriguez took that moment to announce that "THERE are TWO beautiful kinds of slugs: MARINE SLUGS and LAND SLUGS!" (Cool it with the slugs, dude. For realz.) So I yelled back, "WHAT?" I tried to project, like they told me to in that one drama class that one time. He looked a little exasperated and said, "I SAID, WHAT?" Oh. I guess he didn't hear me after all.


"Oh!" I said. "I just said, 'Happy birthday, Dad!'" (I kinda feel like I just got overenthusiastic with my apostrophes/quotation marks. But technically there are supposed to be three there, right?) 


Dad looked surprised for a half second. He said "thanks" and then burst into a fit of coughing. My guess is that he hadn't known it was his birthday until I told him. I'm really not that insightful. It's just that he's forgotten the past ten years, too. Once he asked why I made him a cake. Psh. Dads. 


(I'm really not as funny as I think I am. I apologize. This whole storytelling thing is a bit new to me.)


After a brief exchange in which I made a joke about my dad being old (and he appropriately snarked back), I went to go shower. I had to shave my legs for swim practice, so it took me a bit longer than usual. Is that TMI? I think it might be. But I'm a swimmer! Leg-shaving is kind of the... nope. I was going to make a funny analogy, but it's just not there today.


I got out of the shower, admiring my newly shaven shins (alliteration! say it out loud!), and then realized I was late. So I grabbed a hairbrush and tried to comb my hair. I kinda hit myself in the thigh, though, because there weren't any tangles. I have really short hair as of two Thursdays ago. I'm not used to it. I keep seeing my reflection and freaking out. On Saturday I flat-out shrieked because I thought there was an intruder in my mirror. I'm a bit absentminded.


Dang, I keep getting off topic. I went to school, okay? Not much happened. It's the tenth grade. If it weren't for AP classes, we'd all just sit around picking lint out of our navels. Oh, and there was swim practice at some point in there. I swam. Shocker. Actually, there was another swim practice after school. We're preparing for a big meet. Or just trying to turn ourselves into human prunes. I keep meaning to ask our coach about which one it is.


After the afternoon practice, I went to the orphanage with the team. We volunteer occasionally. I actually like it a lot. I like kids. And animals. Well, some would say kids are animals. But they don't meow. Most of them.


I mentioned I like volunteering? Well, I stayed after the rest of the group left. This big black guy was looking kinda bothered by all the mess our group left behind. So I helped gather up all the extra toys and stuff that the kids left all over the place. I talked with him... okay, at him... about our swim meet, and about how I was going to go buy my dad a birthday present right after this, and about my dad being a mailman, and did he know him? he didn't. I think I may have been annoying. Bother. He just kinda looked exhausted. I say 'kinda' way too much. So I'm going to try and stop that if I can. 


I walked to the bus stop to catch the 8:20 bus. I hadn't meant to be out this late, but dammit, I was going to buy my dad a birthday present. I would've last weekend, except for Hana's party. While I waited for the bus, I checked my phone. My dad had called at some point that afternoon. He sounded pretty sad, which was probably because the message was about him getting a flat tire on his mail truck, and how he was going to be late. 


The bus arrived, and I took it all the way out to Flenox Mall, which is in the next town over. I browsed around the mall looking for things my dad would like. He likes coffee, and cats, and being awkward, and musical theatre. (British spelling!!) And apparently slugs. I was being indecisive, but that was okay, because some jerk bumped into me and snatched my purse. I ran after him, but I may have fallen in the fountain... I don't really want to talk about it.


No purse. Hm. Well, I supposed it was time to just go home. 


Wait. Crap. My bus fare was in my purse. I searched my pockets. There wasn't any change. I looked around on the ground, and in the fountain, but there wasn't any change. So I reached into my pocket-- and my phone was dead. How do phones just die when you've just charged them? I'd like to ask a deity about that one. Oh... and the house key... in my purse. Wait, had I even had the house key? Maybe I should've thought of that.


I looked around at the people milling by, but none of them seemed to say Hey, Ask Me To Borrow A Phone. And I was a bit smelly from the orphanage and stank of chlorine from swim practice. My hair may not need combing anymore, but it certainly is still capable of looking like I'm a hobo. I felt really self-conscious. So I didn't ask anyone for their phone. I sort of wandered around aimlessly. I kept checking the time... it was getting really late. I knew the last bus left at 12:30. It was getting close to that, so I went outside to the stop. Someone else flagged the bus when it got there, and I tried to slip on behind them as discreetly as possible. An old woman gave me a look, which either was constipation or a nonverbal accusation of juvenile delinquency. 


Probably constipation.


So I rode the bus for awhile. People kept getting off at their various stops, until there were only a few of us. That's when the driver looked in her mirror and saw me. "Hey, you." I pretended to be texting on my dead phone. Nope, that didn't work. "You. Blonde chick with the blue T-shirt." Oops. That was definitely me. The only other people on the bus were a group of short Latino guys, and they weren't wearing blue.


"Hi!" I said. 
"Did you pay the fare? I don't seem to recall you paying the fare."
"Urrrr. Um." I was a terrible liar.
"That's it," said the driver, and pulled over. "Get off of my bus. I've had enough of you stupid teenagers freaking scamming me. Get off my bus." I obliged. 


Thankfully, it wasn't cold outside. Less thankfully, I was barely on the outskirts of town.


Around four o' clock in the morning, I staggered up the stairs in Castle Apartments, with some severe enhancements to my hobo look from earlier. I knocked on the door, but for some reason, my dad wasn't awake. I banged for about fifteen minutes, and then Ms. Lannes came up the stairs. Thanks to a previous encounter on the stairs (although not at 4 AM), I knew she was the woman responsible for the noisy pipes before five every morning. She lived in 704. 

"Honey, what's wrong?" she asked me. "What are you doing out this late? Isn't it a school night?"
Yes. It was. Damn, I had math homework. 
"Yes!" I said. "And I went to go to the mall and my purse got stolen and I got kicked off the bus and had to walk and my dad won't open the door!" I was a little traumatized, maybe.


"Well, hun, you can come upstairs and wait for him to wake up if you want to." Ms. Lannes was actually really nice, despite her terrible shower pipes. She was about fifty, I think, and sometimes gave people rides to school. Okay, she used to. Now she has the night shift at somewhere I can't remember, and so she can't anymore. Point is, I felt perfectly comfortable following Ms. L up the stairs and chilling on her couch watching America's Next Top Model while she showered. 


A bit too comfortable, maybe. It was, after all, 4 in the morning. Maybe I'd just lie down for a minute. 


That was a mistake, methinks.