part five: telling stories and making amends

Dmitri listened intently for my entire story. He didn't ever seem like he was clinging to my words or anything. But he didn't ever look away or show any sign of disinterest.


The last part of the story was the hardest. It had been only a few hours since the police took Annalisa away, and left me alone figuratively and literally in the dismal side tunnel. I didn't know how long it would take me to heal from that. Maybe I was just being stupid. She hadn't died, just gotten arrested. Then why did I feel so depressed about the whole thing?


But as I told him, as I described how pathetic, weak and vulnerable my best friend looked as she was escorted away from the life she'd made for herself, Dmitri didn't say anything. He just let me pour out my tragic little teenage soul, without a single word.


"And then I came here," I finished. I wiped my nose. I couldn't tell if I'd wiped the snot off or not. I couldn't feel anything. Maybe I could have. I didn't want to. If I felt something, it would probably only be pain, I decided, and wiped my nose again just in case.


Dmitri remained silent, just as I had always been after he finished his stories. I wondered how much he'd been through to get here, and what his past was actually like. What other stories filled in the gaps between the ones he'd told me already.


I sat there for awhile, until finally, he spoke one word. A command. "Sleep," he said, and got up slowly and left the room.


I didn't budge for a minute. Then I shifted slightly, lay down, and tried to fall asleep. Sleep came slowly, but it was hardly a respite-- I dreamed all night of Annalisa, guilt, and screams.


* * *


I didn't wake up again for a long time. I lay there in complete, dead misery, combined with exhaustion, for more than twelve hours. When I finally opened my eyes, the clock across the room said 4:13. PM, not AM. I didn't want to be awake. I didn't want to be conscious. So I got up and went to the bathroom, and then went back and lay down. Persephone curled up next to me.


Sleep claimed me for the second time that day, and I drifted off into another dream with a thousand hairgel men and police officers chasing me down a pitch black tunnel.


* * *


I awakened again, only a few hours later, to a little jolt. Someone had sat down on the couch next to me, I realized, and dragged my unfortunate eyelids open to investigate.


Dad? It couldn't be. But... it was. How had he found me here? I sat up. A little too fast, I think. I felt a bit lightheaded. It was Dad, alright. He looked about ten years older than the last time I'd seen him. Then again, I felt like I might have some grey hair myself. I just stared at him. Right in his dark eyes, which didn't seem to know whether or not to smile or look sad.


He'd found me. He'd found me, somehow, despite all my best efforts. And here I was, sitting on a sort-of stranger's couch next to him, staring at him, and I didn't even know whether or not I was glad he did. I felt my stomach drop and an onset of sadness, coupled with an enormous relief. I didn't feel happy or sad. I was both. I was angry, I was euphoric, I was distraught, I was surprised, and I was confused. I was overloaded, and the tears came.


Before I even knew what was happening, Dad hugged me. He just held me, just like he always did when I was little. As if I was still his little baby girl. And I cried on his shoulder.


But then he sat back. He coughed violently, a noisy, phlegmy, hacking cough. And then I noticed the tear running down his face, too.


For whatever reason, I laughed. This was completely foreign-- I'd never seen Dad cry before. So I pointed that out. He smiled back, a bit faintly, and then noted, "You never ran away before." Then we both laughed. That felt foreign, too. Different from my laughs with Annalisa. I wanted to explain everything at once, and tell Dad that I didn't run away, and that I never meant to hurt anything or anyone, and yet I succeeded in doing all of it. But I just kept laughing. People cry when they're happy sometimes, but do they laugh when they're sad? Was that what I was doing?


Then the laughter was over. Dad had looked down next to the couch, where the stack of now dry posters was sitting. Proof that I hadn't just disappeared, and that I was actively trying to stop him from finding me. I grimaced slightly. Then I managed to craft a smile out of guilt. "I can't believe you used that picture, Dad," she said. It really was a terrible picture. Although it was nothing compared to how bad I looked or felt now, honestly.

"Xiu Li..." he said. And there it was. He didn't even know, but he knew.
"I know, dad. I know." I leaned forward and held him this time. "I'm really sorry," I managed to get out. And I was. I really was. I had so much to be sorry for that I didn't know how much of it I actually should have been.

He pulled away from my hug and said simply, "Let's go home." And I would've, too, but then I remembered Dmitri. Dmitri who'd told me all of the stories, and told me a tiny bit of who he was without ever really knowing who I was. Until I told him, of course. And Dmitri who'd let me, a miserable hobo teenage girl with daddy problems, sleep on his couch, after he sat up long past midnight listening to her. I felt a sudden surge of guilt and gratitude, and I ran over into the kitchen and gave him a hug. Then I thanked him, really inadequately. There really was no way to properly express how much I owed him. He told me that I could come back and talk to him anytime. And something about how maybe I should get my dad's permission first. He bantered with Dad for a minute, something about money. That confused me. Had my dad paid off Dmitri for something? Looking for me? More importantly, why were they on a first-name basis? I decided not to think about it.


I grabbed Persephone and headed for the door. Dad looked a bit more than surprised all of a sudden. "You're not going to take his cat?" What? Whose cat!? I finally figured out what he meant.
I shook my head. "Dad, Persephone is mine." The only thing I had left from the tunnel. "Can we keep her?"
"We'll see," he told me. We finally went out of 1287. Neither one of us said anything until we got back to 604. I watched him unlock the door with fascination. It had been so long...


When I walked in, I went to set Persephone down on the couch. Unfortunately, there was... already a cat there?
"You have a cat, too?" Since when did Dad have a pet? He looked almost proud, though. "Her name is Fuzzball," he told me. Honestly, dads. That may have been worse than Sparklefairy. A twinge of grief came along with that thought. What had they done to the dogs?
I just looked at him. "Fuzzball?"
"With an e. Fuzzballe."
Ooh, that was soooo different. I felt almost like my old self again, and was distracted for a minute. "Seriously, Dad?" Oh. Wait. Of course he had a pet. Why else would-- "So that's why you were in the pet store!" I realized aloud. Dad looked a bit creeped out, though.
"Hold the phone. You saw me in the pet store?"
I didn't really know what to say to that other than to explain the entire ordeal. So I said nothing.
Then his face fell. "Oh. Wait... of course you did. You took down the poster."
I felt awful. He had no idea. The silence was killing me. 
"You have a cough," I said.
He gave me a look that told me he could see right through that statement, and then gave me a hug.


And a Christmas present? That confused me. 

That was obviously the last thing I had been expecting. It was only the 22nd. 
"You got me a present?" That may have been a stupid question. But it seemed... so... normal. So not like I'd left him without a clue as to where I was. Like all the other Christmases... "Shouldn't I wait for Christmas?" I asked him. I didn't think now was really the time, but he replied, "No. I want you to have it now. A little early gift from your old dad--" He coughed again, pretty violently. I was going to tell him he wasn't old, but that distracted me for a minute. It sounded terrible.


He saw my facial expression and brushed it off, so I opened the present. Inside was a tiny golden chain, with a little frog on it. I have one like it, actually, except that it has a dolphin. He would've known that; I think I was wearing it in the picture he plastered up all over town. It was beautiful, though. I stared at it. "Thank you so much, Dad," I told him, and put it on. Even in my awful hobo state, I felt prettier. Stronger, almost.

So the time had come. "Let's sit down, now," I declared, pulling Persephone over onto my lap for moral support. And I told him what was going on.

It was the second time I had told the story, so it was a little bit easier to choke out the part about Annalisa. That almost made me feel worse, though. I didn't want to forget her, and I felt almost as if coming to terms with what had happened would ensure that I never saw her again. I made a promise to no one in particular that I would never forget Annalisa, and that I would try to find her eventually.

I felt weird telling Dad about all of the slightly more personal stuff, like my fake date with Annalisa and my little run-in at Isabella's, but he didn't seem to care, and I definitely owed him the full story. So that's what I gave him.

I finally finished, once again, and he said nothing. That was strange. It felt completely natural for Dmitri to say nothing, but Dad? I figured he'd want to tell me all about this or that or the other or his point of view on while I was gone. He didn't say anything, though, which was disconcerting. I just watched him absorb everything, without a word. And I started crying again. He read his lines and gave me a hug until my tears dried up again. Then he pushed me away, held my shoulders, and looked me in the eyes.

"Xiu Li," he said, "We are going to deal with these problems together. We're going to find Annalisa--" How? Oh God, what had happened to her? I didn't even know! "--, do something about Mr. DuBolaire--" I was confused by that. I hadn't mentioned any DuBolaires. Did I even know any? "Wait, who?"
Dad laughed. It was a laugh outlined with a cough, filled with bitter, angry spite. I hadn't ever heard it before. Maybe my dad had gone through some changes while I was gone, too. "The guy you kept calling Obnoxious Hairgel Man is my boss, Mr. DuBolaire." Oh. Yeah, we did need to do something about him. My dad worked for that asshole? "He's possibly the most vile human being alive," Dad went on. "You can tell because he didn't even tell me that you two had your little run-in." That made me angry. So many problems could have been solved if he'd-- no, I stopped myself. Then Dad would've known in advance about all of my delinquency. That seemed so stupid, in hindsight, though. He hadn't mentioned anything about that.
Dad was on a different thought train, though.
"Of course, why would he? He wouldn't want to admit to his least favorite subordinate that he lost a fight to his daughter!"
Dad was... proud of me? I couldn't tell. But I was pretty sure none of my friends had tackled a full-grown man before. I grinned. He went on, "And we're going to have to go to the police station and clarify some things."
A jolt of fear zapped my heart rate, and I frantically stammered, "Now??"
Thankfully, that wasn't what he meant.
Suddenly, I remembered that I'd meant to give him the truck money. Especially since I'd told him that was what I was doing, I thought it would be rude not to. So I gave him the cash. It was a lot of cash, which I hadn't realized until I saw Dad's face.
"No, Dad!" I giggled. "It's legal. This is what I'd made back so far for your truck money. With my job," I added. Dad nodded, and counted the stack of money. It seemed to me that it took forever, but then he suddenly jumped up. "Do you know what this means?" No, I didn't. But wow, was he excited. "This means I will never have to push another shopping cart full of envelopes!!!" He proceeded to leap around the room like a freaking ballerina. I'd forgotten the sheer indignity of family, but I let him have his fun.

Finally, I stopped him by telling him I had no idea Mr. DuBolaire was his boss, but I was glad he wasn't upset about me decking him and all that. Dad was too excited to hear me, and babbled something about how he was going to quit his job.
"Dad," I insisted, "that's stupid. Don't quit your job. I have to quit mine, because I assume I'm going back to school and we need the money. Besides, I'm sure we can find some legal violation on your boss's part." I wanted Dad to get revenge, and take over the post office. It was a very childish plan, but he only hugged me and said, "That's my girl."

He started coughing again, though. I was getting genuinely concerned about it, and I thought this was as good a time as any to tell him that. "Dad, you've been coughing a lot..." He waved his hand again. "Eh, it's nothing. I was out in the rain all day yester--"
He made a miserable wretching noise, and when he brought his hand away from his face, we both saw the blood at the same time. That was it.

"Dad, we're going to the clinic, now." He tried to say something, but I grabbed him and flung the door open. I don't know much about medicine, but I know that when you cough, there shouldn't be any blood involved. We had barely made it down the first flight of stairs when he collapsed on the landing. I stood there, looking at his sprawled figure, and finally made the executive decision to get help. I took his phone out of his pocket, which took some effort, and was about to call 911 when I realized they couldn't get an ambulance up the stairs any more easily than I could get Dad down. I ran down the fifth floor hallway, knocking on every door until someone answered.

I don't know who the guy was, but I was certainly grateful for his willingness to help. He came out of his apartment, picked up Dad and ran down the stairs. He offered to run him all the way to the clinic, but he didn't have a jacket, and I didn't want him to freeze to death trying to save someone else's life. I thanked him, and said I could take it from there.

That was really stupid, though, because no sooner had he left than I realized I was going to have to cross the busy intersection with Dad in tow. I may have been able to go the distance, but I wasn't going to be able to make it before the light turned. What to do now?

Then I had my genius idea. I took off my scarf and wrapped it around Dad, whom I left in the lobby of the apartment building, and sprinted down the block.

I came back a few moments later with a shopping cart. I wished the building weren't so empty. There are always so many people out and about, and as soon as you need help there's no one. That's the problem with cities. I managed to pick Dad up long enough to set him down sloppily into the cart, and then I took off. Now I knew how he felt. I didn't know what it felt like to be wheeling a shopping cart full of letters, but I'm sure the faces of strangers were nothing compared to those given to me with an unconscious person in my cart. I wheeled Dad out the door of Castle Apartments and up to the curb. When the light turned, I gathered up all my speed and ran across the road.

If only Dad had been awake, maybe he would have reminded me to look both ways before running out into traffic. Some dumbass who had decided to run the red light screeched to a halt, but kept sliding on the ice. I pushed Dad's cart as hard as I could, and it kept up its momentum and wheeled up onto the sidewalk, where a very surprised pedestrian stopped it. With his stomach. Oops.

But I had something more to worry about. The car was sliding towards me, losing speed, but maybe not enough. I thought of Dad coughing up blood, of Annalisa in handcuffs, and myself lying in a pool of blood in front of the SUV. It wasn't going to end now, I decided. And I jumped.

I collided with the windshield and slid up on top of the car. I don't know how much they'd slowed down, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I'd feared. I didn't even break the windshield. The driver got out of his car and started yelling at me, to which I responded with quite a bit of profanity. I didn't care if I was okay, even. I slid off the roof and ran out of traffic, disregarding the horrified stares of the bystanders, and sprinted into the clinic. "My dad," I said. "I've got him in a shopping cart. He was coughing up blood-- and then he collapsed--" The woman at the counter nodded, and some medical people of some kind came and got Dad out of the cart. I flopped down into the waiting chair, and then decided to think about whether or not I was in pain.

I made up my mind that I wasn't just soon enough to be interrogated thoroughly by the clinic employees. They asked about Dad's health history, and I signed a ton of forms that I probably shouldn't have, and then someone came out of the room and told me he was going to be okay.
"It's a good thing you brought him so quickly, though," she said. "We're still trying to figure out what he has. But it's all under control, and we've got him on an IV." I smiled, and went to go take a nap in the waiting room.

I woke up a couple hours later, and wasted some time talking to some of the nurses. I didn't tell them about my car accident. I hadn't even really stopped to think about the fact that I had almost died, honestly, because I had been so focused the entire time on Dad. I felt fine, and I wasn't about to cause extra problems. Extra expensive problems.

Eventually, I went into the room to check on Dad, and was surprised to find him with his eyes open. "Dad! You're awake!" I had never been so relieved to see him look so terrible. He looked better than he had earlier, but still not healthy. The nurse shushed me and said something to Dad. Another nurse ushered me out of the room, but I'd seen what I needed to.

Dad was okay.

I spent the night in the waiting room. 

part four: water, fire, and darkness

day one:
The morning was pretty normal, overall. I woke up. I stretched. I wished for a shower. (Oh, the irony... I'll get to that in a minute.) I ate breakfast with Annalisa. She was actually pretty cheery. I mean, I'm a morning person, so I'm usually pretty perky when I wake up, but you never know exactly how lovely it is to have a fellow morning person until you have one.

We joked and laughed over breakfast until our sides hurt. I guess our Sharing of the Stories from the night before broke the rest of the ice. You know, when I first read Harry Potter, I thought it was stupid and unrealistic that Hermione just randomly became friends with Harry and Ron after they were so annoyed by her. J. K. Rowling had something right, though. I guess the only thing that starts a friendship faster than a troll is being someone's underground roommate. We didn't have a troll, so I suppose that's not a fair comparison, but I digress.

After our hilariously funny breakfast, we ran around getting ready for work. I tried running my fingers through my greasy hair to try and get it to look halfway presentable, but I was clearly wasting effort. Annalisa had really long brown hair, but somehow hers looked better than mine. Probably because I'm used to showering every day, and someone told me once that your hair gets oily if you do that. I know I'm blithering a bit about hair, but that was what we were doing when Annalisa looked at me and said, "Is it raining?"

Sure enough, there was a soft roar coming from above the tunnel, (which is probably why I slept so well, white noise and all that), and a couple places were dripping. We weren't really excited about this whole rain business, so we decided to exit through the orphanage instead of our usual Benson manhole way.

We headed down the tunnel to the orphanage. Annalisa had brought her headlamp so we could go up the ladder without falling on each other (come to think of it, I hadn't actually been out through the bathroom since I'd moved in with her.) As we neared the exit, griping and making sarcastic comments about the weather and wondering if our boss was planning on having more phone sex today, a shout came from ahead of us.

"Hello?"

I stopped talking and Annalisa's laugh died. Someone was in the tunnel? After a few seconds, we kept walking, but we still didn't say anything. Just then, a large silhouette emerged from one of the side tunnels.

I don't know who was more scared, honestly. It's good that I didn't need to pee, because I definitely would've wet my pants. This guy mostly just looked confused. After the panic faded, and Annalisa had moved her headlamp beam out of his eyes, I recognized him as that guy from the orphanage. No duh. (Except why was he in the girls' bathroom? I stopped that train of thought.) He was the guy who I'd helped clean up all the toys on that day last millennium.

He spoke first.
"Uh, hi," he said.
That was creative. But I supposed it still merited a response.
"Hi," I said back.
I guess the light shifted or something, because he looked really surprised all of a sudden.
"You're Xiu Li!" he said.
Thanks, dude, I wasn't aware of that. "Yeah, I am. And you're that guy from the orphanage."
"Christophe."
"Yeah. That."
Annalisa cleared her throat. "I'm Annalisa," she said.
"Oh, sorry! I don't think I've met you."
They shook hands. We all felt awkward.
"You wanna tell me what this is all about?" said Christophe.
"Not really," said Annalisa. I'd forgotten how bitchy she could be to strangers.
"These are electrical tunnels," I said, purposefully answering the wrong question.
"Your dad is looking for you," he said dubiously. I nodded. I don't think that's what he was expecting.
Annalisa grabbed my arm. "Xiu Li, we have to get to work."
What was her problem?
She started to drag me off down the tunnel. Christophe yelled after us. It sounded like he said something about a gold dolphin. But that wouldn't make any sense. I yelled "Bye!" over my shoulder as I climbed the ladder.

We climbed up out of the bathroom grate and exited the orphanage. One little girl gave us a stank face. It was really intimidating, actually.

As we ran through the rain (we were late to work), I shouted to Annalisa, "What was your deal back there?"
"We're late!" she said. I still wasn't happy. "And the longer we stayed there, the more he found out about us. He could be telling your dad he saw you right now. I never trust strangers. I just hope he hasn't found the housenook."
"What?"
That hadn't occurred to me. I hoped Christophe had managed to infer from the situation that I didn't exactly want to be found... he seemed to be a nice enough guy. But I had no control over it now. Well, that was a little scary. I spoke more confidently than I felt.

"Christophe wouldn't turn us in. He doesn't seem like that kind of guy."
Annalisa just pouted. We ran the rest of the way in silence. I hoped I was right.

Upon arriving to work, we discovered that the store manager was in a really good mood. Annalisa made a pretty inappropriate comment about this under her breath, and I pretended I hadn't heard it. "Since it's raining and all, and you girls still came to work--" (um, we're here to get paid) "you can go out to lunch today! I'll give you ten bucks apiece."
We weren't arguing with her, although we were really baffled. Maybe someone had told her about yesterday and this was her subtle bribe to the employees? No idea.

Work actually was uneventful today. I could try to come up with five more exciting stories like I did yesterday, but it would look like this:

Another Day at Shoes & Etc. (By Xiu Li Zheng)
1. Someone bought three pairs of sneakers.
2. We're having a sale on rain boots. That makes total sense.
3. There's a burned out lamp in the back corner of the store.
4. Annalisa had a customer at 10:31 AM.
5. A window fogged up.

Wow, right?
Anyway, so the lunch break arrived pretty quickly, and Annalisa and I were grateful to escape our boring morning. We jogged over to Casa D'Waffle (it was still pouring rain) and had a nice lunch. Well, if you call waffles nice, but I do. Especially when you're soaking wet and essentially homeless.

We finished our lunch, paid, and left, laughing about something that'd been on the TV. The door had just shut behind us when I noticed someone familiar walking down the block. "Oh, shit!" I hissed, and Annalisa managed to obscure me from view as he walked by. "Obnoxious Hairgel Man," I quickly whispered to Annalisa. She nodded, took my hand, and we ran off towards the mob of people at the end of the block. We quickly slipped into the crowd, and she let go of my hand awkwardly.
"Thanks," I puffed. We were running everywhere. She smiled. "Well, even if he saw you, now he can't find you in this-- party." It did seem to be some kind of party. There was an interesting smell hovering in the air, and people were everywhere, yelling, talking, and dancing.

Annalisa looked at her watch. "We still have awhile before lunch break ends. We can hang around here just in case, if you want." I nodded. We walked through the mob of people, and stood behind some tattooed guys and talked for a bit. There were a lot of tattooed guys, actually. Like 20 of them. A couple of them moved aside to make way for a shopping cart tent.

Wait. A shopping cart? I looked up, confirmed my fears, and turned around and ran.

I didn't look back to see if Annalisa was following me. I didn't look back to see if my dad had seen me. I didn't look back at all. I elbowed my way past what felt like thousands of people, shoving and pushing and almost falling, and then finally, I stopped. My dad wasn't anywhere. I took a deep breath and headed back for the shoe store. My logic was that Annalisa, once she lost me, would just go back to work.

Thankfully, I was right. As we put some shoeboxes back in the rain boots section (they were all sold out), I asked her, "You know why I ran, right?"
"Yes," she said, "and I think he saw you, but he fell in a puddle when he tried to run with the cart. So you weren't even really in that much danger of being caught."
I felt a huge pang of guilt at the picture of my dad lying in a mud puddle, not knowing why I was running from him. I tried to send him positive brain waves. I promise I'll come back, Dad. After I get the truck money. 

The rest of work went by even more boringly and slowly than the morning had. After running from two different people, it's really hard to get excited about tennis shoes.

When we finally left, I split off for a bit to go see Dmitri. I'd completely neglected to go see him this morning, what with being late and Christophe in the tunnel and all of that. I took a couple of apples and another waffle with me, and heard a few stories about what the schools are like in Russia. I gave him the food, and promised I'd actually come by in the morning. He nodded and gave me a faint smile.

No sooner had I stepped into the housenook than Annalisa greeted me with a sandwich. I like it when people randomly give me food. I could get used to that. She'd apparently already eaten her sandwich, so she talked at me while I ate mine.
"Pretty hectic day, no?"
"Mm-hmm," I agreed, through a bite of sandwich. I swallowed. "It's odd, work seems extra ordinary when things like this happen."
"I'm still wondering if the stupid hairgel guy saw you or not," she said. I laughed. "Judging from my first encounter with him, I'm pretty sure he would've been pretty vocal about seeing me, if he had."
Annalisa smiled.
"It's not that late," she mused. "I don't really want to go to sleep. Can we go do something?"
Depends what the something is. "What do you mean?" I frowned at my empty hands that no longer contained a sandwich.
"I saw earlier that The Producers is on at the Sawmill. You wanna go?"
I didn't have a good reason why not. My sandwich was gone and we had a bunch of time to kill. I didn't like how free time felt. I used to have swim practice all the time, you know. I briefly wondered what had happened to the team in my absence. Probably nothing had changed. The thought was a tad depressing.
"Sure," I said. "Do we have enough money? I don't want to spend my entire savings on Dmitri and theatre."
She laughed. "I can cover both of us," she said. "What am I saving up for? College?"
I didn't know whether or not that was funny. So I gave her an ambiguous smile that could mean either I'm sorry or that was funny, I just didn't laugh. Or at least I hoped that was what it looked like.

We slushed back through the streets, which were completely flooded, and went into the Sawmill. A kinda sullen-looking boy gave us our tickets, and we took our seats. There were barely any people; I guess it wasn't really the kind of day where people just go to the theatre.

We noticed about fifteen minutes into the production that a couple from a couple rows down was giving us dirty looks. I poked Annalisa and pointed it out, to see if she knew either one of them. She didn't. When the power went out in the middle of the play, we had an unavoidable intermission, and one of them came up to us and said something about sin. I finally managed to decipher that they thought we were a lesbian couple. I found this hilarious, and was going to tell Annalisa, but she was in the bathroom.

The play started before she got back. When she slunk back into her seat next to me, I whispered mockingly, "They told me to tell you that we're both going to hell for our homosexuality." Maybe I shouldn't've, though, since she let out a high pitched giggle and the couple stared at us. I felt pretty awkward. Annalisa grabbed my hand and held it, and we both stared them down. They looked disgusted and suddenly became very interested in the play. When The Producers ended, boy, did they skedaddle out of there.

We walked out of the theatre laughing uproariously at our fake relationship. "Not bad for a first date," I told her. "Too bad we're going to hell," said Annalisa, and we stepped outside.

Whoa. We stopped laughing.

The building across from the theatre (It was that store that all the girls in my class like to shop at. Always 22 or something like that.) was gone. There were only a few charred pieces of the former store remaining. We hadn't even heard the sirens in the theatre, and suddenly an entire building had burned down. Hadn't the fire department come? It's not like there are very many fires when it's this rainy.

I shivered, probably not just from the rain. Suddenly, our fake date didn't seem so funny anymore. We walked, despite the rain, back to the manhole on Benson, and neither one of us spoke until we got back to the housenook.

It was pretty late, but I wasn't tired. Annalisa and I played cards for a little while and then just talked about life in general. We got into some serious topics, too. Religion. Politics. Boys.

Well, not so much boys. I've never actually had a boyfriend. And Annalisa spent ages 12-17 as a hermit. It would've been ironic to talk about boys after our "date" anyway.

I sat on her bed while we discussed all the world religions. I'd been taking world history before my run-in with the police, and she hadn't been to school since seventh grade, so I felt a bit like the teacher, but it was a nice discussion. I don't remember how late we stayed up. Eventually sleep claimed both of us.

day two:
I'm not sure why, since it's pitch black in the tunnel with the lights off, but I woke up on my own. I was lying on top of the covers of Annalisa's bed, where I'd been sitting during our late-night chat the night before. We were essentially snuggling. Well, except she was under the covers, but still. I stood up off the bed pretty fast-- that was a tad embarrassing.

After walking nonchalantly across the room and back, I waltzed up to the side of Annalisa's bed and shook her gently. "Annalisa."
She didn't budge. So I poked her in the side. "Annalisa."
Still nothing. I shook her harder, and said loudly, "ANNALISA! IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP!"
She sat bolt upright and shrieked. I laughed at her. "Don't do that!" she said, affronted.
"Looks like I won today," I said, and she probably smiled, except her hair was completely obscuring her face.

Annalisa groaned and sat up. The same roar of the rain was still happening from yesterday, and it was really humid in the tunnel. Maybe that's why my hair, although short, had managed to poof up. At least it didn't look as oily; I had the rain to thank for that. But I suppose you don't really want to hear about my hair. I feel like I've been talking about it too much.

To the point! So, with that, we went about our usual routine. I had promised Dmitri that I'd go up to see him in the morning, so I split off from Annalisa at the Benson Street exit (we decided it was probably best not to go out through the orphanage, just in case Christophe came back) and headed up the stairs in Castle Apartments. It had been raining for long enough now that I had to go up three flights of stairs before I wasn't stepping in water. Who invented rain, anyway?

I got up to the roof in what turned out to be just in time. Dmitri was folding up his tent and gathering up his things. The stack of posters that I'd left up there was soaking wet, I noticed. (I'd brought them up with me at some point to have something to sit on, I think, but I'm not sure when.) Anyway, he noticed me at that moment and stopped. "What are you doing?" I said, very creatively. "My brother, he sent money. I am going, looking for job. I got back apartment."
I was astonished. "Yuri?" He nodded. "That's wonderful, Dmitri!" It really was, too. Although I was sad that I would not be able to talk to him. "Does this mean I don't need to bring you food?"
"No," he said, "but if you ever find you needing story or two, you come visit, yes? 1287."
I grinned. "Okay," I told him. "Well, good luck on finding your job! I have to go to work now, but I'm glad I came by, or I might never have seen you again."

I left the roof and went down the stairs, feeling slightly better about the world. Even if I was basically homeless, at least Dmitri wasn't. I didn't know whether or not I'd go see him at his apartment, though. Now that he didn't need food... I'd have to have a little mental discussion about how often to visit. I still didn't know if we were friends. (Man, life is sometimes a little too much like high school.)

I got to work right on time, or so I thought. There were mobs of moms with their little girls, and a few little boys. I pushed my way through the crowd and found the store manager. I was going to ask what was going on, but I didn't even need to. "Sale on Dora the Explorer light-up shoes," she told me. "You're not late, but I'm glad you're here-- we're gonna need all the help we can get. You can run the checkout counter."

And so I did.

It was an incredibly hectic day at work, which made me wonder if nothing exciting was going to happen today. There did seem to be a bit of an anticorrelation between excitement at work and excitement outside work.

Psh. Wait for it.

Annalisa and I walked back from work that evening, completely exhausted from all of the energy in the store. Honestly, that was a LOT of five-year-olds. It made me think that I didn't ever want to have any children. I guess I'll see if that works out. We talked about a few of the brattiest kids and some of the adorable ones, and we were so distracted that we didn't notice we were being watched as we lifted the manhole on Benson Street. Annalisa had already climbed down through the hole, and only my waist remained above the street when the police officers jumped out of what I thought was an empty car. "HEY!"

I almost fell down the ladder. My soft scream alerted Annalisa that something was wrong, and I climbed down into the tunnel as fast as I possibly could. "Police," I whispered. "They're coming." We paused for a second, and then ran at lightspeed down the tunnel. We heard a clanging noise, and then two flashlights started pursuing us.

They were faster than us, and Annalisa didn't have a headlamp, so we couldn't see anything. Have you ever had police officers closing in on you? I think it may be the most frightening sensation possible. As we turned a corner, Annalisa stopped. "What the hell are you doing?" I whispered. "We're gonna be caught!" She gave me a look that I hadn't seen before. It was pure sadness. No fear. Just sadness. "We're gonna be caught anyway, Xiu Li." I was so confused. Maybe it was my sense of bravado, but I felt like we should still keep running anyway. "Annalisa, we can't just let them catch us. We have to keep going."

They were getting closer. I could hear their loud boots pounding in the tunnel passageway around the corner. "We don't have time," she said. "There's a side tunnel about ten yards down. I want you to go and wait in there. I'm going to keep running. They don't know about the side tunnel, but if we both disappear, they'll know there must be one, and they'll look for it."
What was she saying? I blinked. I couldn't really see her very well, but the dim (and getting stronger...) lights of the police officers' flashlights let me see just enough. "Annalisa. They'll catch you!"
She confirmed my fears when she slowly nodded.
"This is stupid. You can't just-- sacrifice-- yourself for me."
"I don't have a record yet," she said. "It'll be worse if they catch you. And honestly, it won't be that bad. Worst case scenario I'll go to jail."
Jail? 
The police officers were going to round the corner any second. "Go!" hissed Annalisa.
I was in shock. "Shouldn't I hug you or something?"
She grabbed my elbow and dragged me off down the passageway, and essentially threw me in the side tunnel, just in time for me to see her back lit up by direct flashlight beams.
I flattened my back against the freezing cold wall. Water dripped down my back, and I bit my lip, shivering. The two officers ran by the opening to the side tunnel, without noticing the extra passageway. Annalisa had been right about that.
After a little while, their lights faded around another corner, and I was standing in complete darkness.

If you've ever been completely cut off from one of your senses, you know how I felt. Every tiny little noise sounded deafening. Every drop of water felt colder.
I don't know how long I stood in the tunnel. I swear I could hear my heartbeat. Had they caught Annalisa? Had she managed to escape somehow? How long was I supposed to stand in the tunnel?
About a week passed. There was nothing. Nothing except the dripping water that had numbed my lower back and my feet. Nothing except my obnoxiously loud breathing.

But now there was light. And I could hear voices. As the voices got louder, I was able to decipher what they were saying.
"Where's your friend?" said an angry bass voice. And then... and then...
"I don't-- know--"
Oh my God, no. She was crying. I had never seen her cry before. I couldn't imagine what it looked like. The voice belonged to Annalisa, but she couldn't actually be crying. Not her.
"Don't lie to me, girl. Where is your friend?"
"I told you, I don't know." She was helpless. I'd never seen anything so wrong.
"Do you realize how much trouble you're in?"
Sobs. Pathetic, heartwrenching sobs. I was tearing up, too. But that was normal. Annalisa doesn't cry.
"Your little house isn't legal. This is an authorized area, and you've been trespassing for God knows how long." They'd found the housenook.
They walked by the opening to the side tunnel, and I watched as best I could.
Two officers, holding Annalisa by the shoulder. She didn't even look my direction. I guess she thought that would give something away. But that wasn't the saddest thing. The three of them were followed by Macho and Sparklefairy. "And I know Mr. Alfonso will be happy to have found his thief."
Idiotidiotidiot why hadn't I taken off the collars?
They didn't have the cat, though. Persephone must have hidden somewhere. Good for her.
Their voices got softer, and after awhile I couldn't hear anything but the occasional sob. The loud clang of the manhole shutting on the dark tunnel was a bit too audible, though.

I couldn't bring myself to move, let alone leave the side tunnel. I stood there for about another month, until finally I started breathing again. I took one step, and then another. I was completely aware of every movement I made. I managed to force myself out of the side tunnel, but it was still pitch black. I felt my way along the wall towards the housenook, until I felt the opening, and examined every inch of the nook with my hands until I found the headlamp. I turned it on, and after I finished being blinded, noticed the glowing eyes of a cat hiding behind Annalisa's bed. Persephone had managed to outsmart the officers after all.

The housenook felt really empty and desolate. It hurt me a bit to look at it. Here I was in Annalisa's little home, and she was in some handcuffs, probably at the police station by now. The water from the side tunnel still clung to my shirt, and although I wasn't numb at all, I couldn't feel anything. I stood in one place, still stunned a bit about what had just happened.

I turned off the headlamp so I wouldn't have to look at the bed and pictures and all that. Then I climbed into my sleeping bag, curled up into the fetal position, and cried. Alone. Very alone. Even Persephone kept her distance. I lay there, letting my sobs shake my sides until I could barely breathe. Crying hurt after awhile from my heaving rib cage, but I couldn't stop. My lungs turned to lead, and I kept crying.

I cried for myself. Pure self-pity, in its fundamental, pathetic state. I had nothing, no one, and nowhere. I'd started going to buy my dad a birthday present, and ended up crying in a sleeping bag in a glorified dirt hole, stinky, greasy, and alone. If there is a God, why does he hate me? Was this how homeless people ended up being homeless? By just being in the wrong place at the wrong time?
I cried for my dad, and how he probably thought I hated him, and how he hung up posters to try and find me, and pushed shopping carts through the rain through no fault of his own, and how he probably felt right now. He was probably stronger than I was, and he'd lost his only daughter. I love you, Dad. I didn't know if I'd ever be home again. I love you.
I cried for Annalisa, and how she'd been left alone five years ago, and how she couldn't trust the world because the world hadn't given her anyone she could trust, and how we'd managed so many laughs in such a terrible situation, and how grim her future was, and how she'd given her home and her life up to the police for the sake of one pathetic girl she barely knew.
I cried long after my eyes and nose dried up. I wanted to go to sleep. And maybe never wake up. The police would carry my body back to the station and my dad would come and get me... but Annalisa would have sacrificed herself for nothing.

But I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stay at all. I didn't know when they'd be back to remove the "unauthorized home" from under the city. So I unzipped my sleeping bag for the last time and reluctantly turned on the headlamp to get a last glimpse of Annalisa's world. Would I ever see her again?

I exited through the orphanage, a masterpiece with pathetic puffy eyes and stringy, dirty hair tinged with mucus, carrying a cat. One little girl was washing her hands. She watched me go without saying a word. Careful, I warned her mentally, one wrong step could land you here. I walked right out through the front door of the orphanage. So many symbols of loneliness. Cats, and orphanages, and me...

An emotionless, empty walk later, I found myself in front of a door labeled 1287.

Dmitri looked pretty surprised to see me. I asked if I could sleep on his couch. He said yes, but that there was something he needed to ask me first. It was about my father.

I thought I'd been done crying. I was wrong. But I managed to get myself under control. "Your father?" he said again.

So I told him everything.