Mama looks from Ree to Ajax. I don’t think she sees Baby. Mama nods. “I can imagine that’s true,” she says. She squeezes my shoulder (kind of hard) and says, “Time to go, girls.”

As we head back over to the playground, I take a quick look back. Ree and Ajax are watching us. I don’t know why, but I raise my hand. After a second, Ree raises hers and flashes me a peace sign. Truce.

19

Each Night

Each night

Baby follows the whisper of a scent trail

left by the ambulance that took his Jewel

away.

He puts his wet, black nose to the ground

and snuffles his way through dead leaves

and wet grass,

past the others sleeping,

dreaming,

in the park.

Each night

Baby goes a little farther from the safety

of Jewel’s bag.

First, to the playground

that still holds the scent of children.

The next night,

halfway across the park.

Then next,

all the way across.

He stops.

Soon, the grass will end and the sidewalk will begin.

His heart thunders in his

little chest.

Did he hear her call his name?

He turns and runs and runs across the park,

past the small field where he ran and played

with fierce joy.

Past the playground

and to the place where Jewel

is not.

She is not there.

The fourth night,

when the moon is bright and full,

one small white paw

and then another steps from the grass

onto the sidewalk.

Cars and buses race past,

their headlights slicing across

the small dog.

Baby shivers at the sight of buildings rising and

scraping

the night sky.

He presses his nose to the sidewalk

and searches.

The scent trail he has been following

leads into a river

of traffic.

He steps off the sidewalk.

A car horn blares.

Tires screech.

Baby freezes

then yips,

turns and flies

across the grass

as fast, faster, than he has ever run before.

Back

to the dark corner,

the blue blanket,

the duffel bag that holds all

that is left of Jewel.

Two sweaters.

A skirt her favorite shade of purple.

Two books,

one she turns to for comfort,

one that makes her sad.

And tucked away in a corner

of the duffel bag,

a small leather pouch

that Jewel used to wear around her neck,

and inside that small leather pouch,

a silver key.

Baby watches the moon rise above the trees.

He remembers how Jewel loved the moon

when it was full and gold as a coin.

All night, Jewel would talk to the moon,

watch the moon and its shadows

while Baby

leaned into Jewel, and watched her.

20

Hope House

And just like that, we’re moving!

Our caseworker, Mr. Ryan, called Mama yesterday while we were at the park. He said a space had come open at Hope House, a family shelter not too far away.