We turn down one street and then another. A man walks past us pushing a shopping cart with a wobbly wheel. The cart is filled with all kinds of stuff: shoes, aluminum cans, a doll missing most of its hair, big sheets of plastic, and sitting right there on top of a rolled-up blanket, a big yellow and white cat. I stop and watch them make their way through the slush on the sidewalk.

Dylan skips back to me. “Did you see that, Piper? That was a cat riding in that man’s shopping cart!”

“That’s Jerry and his cat, Lucky,” Gabby says. “They’re nice.”

“Oh, okay.” Dylan runs to catch up with Ricky and Luke.

We stop at the traffic light, waiting for it to change. I wonder where Baby and the woman are.

Then something catches my eye: a tall, skinny man in striped pants and a bright-yellow shirt is dancing—dancing!—at the corner across the street. He twirls and dips and glides and struts. His eyes are closed but he has the biggest smile on his face. People flow past him and around him like water. Some people drop coins in a can by his feet. Car horns honk. Some people wave, others yell out things that aren’t very nice. I don’t think it matters to him which they do. He just keeps dancing.

I nudge Gabby and nod toward the dancing man. “Who’s that?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, but he’s almost always at that corner.”

The light changes. I grab Dylan’s hand as we cross the street heading straight toward the dancing man. “Stay by me,” I say, pulling him close.

I try not to look at the man as we step onto the sidewalk. Mama always says when you’re scared, it’s best to look confident and like you know where you’re going. I hold my head up and try my best to put purpose in my stride.

And then it’s there: the park. So many trees right in the middle of this big city!

Dylan lets go of my hand and races to catch Ricky, who’s running toward the swings.

Miss Alvarez finds a picnic table close by. She sits down and takes out her phone. Luke sticks to her like a sandbur. She looks at the screen and frowns, then sighs. I feel Gabby tense up next to me.

“You girls don’t wander off,” Miss Alvarez says. “I have some phone calls to make.”

Gabby and I walk over to the swings.

“Where do you go to school?” I ask, pushing off with the toe of my tennis shoe.

“I don’t,” she says. “At least not yet. My mom says she’ll get me enrolled as soon as we find a permanent place.” She tucks a long lock of hair behind her ear. “I miss my old school, though.”