Baby yips hello, wags his bit of a tail.

Jewel holds up her sign. The wind tugs at the hem of

her dress.

“Please help,” she calls. “Please help me and Baby.”

At the sound of his name, the little brown dog

leaps

and twirls on his back legs

like leaves in the wind.

A window rolls down.

An arm sticks out holding

a dollar, maybe two.

“Bless you,” Jewel says.

Baby yips his thanks and spins in a circle of delight.

Another window rolls down.

Another hand holds out hope.

The light blinks.

The cars go.

Baby watches a crow fly overhead

with something in its beak.

“Bum!” someone yells from a yellow car.

“Get a job!” another someone yells from a black car.

Jewel wipes at her face.

Her smell of fear and despair

makes Baby want to run, run, run

after those cars and bite them.

A woman threads her way through the waiting traffic

and steps onto their corner.

She hands Jewel a delicious-smelling something

wrapped up warm and tight.

She touches Jewel’s shoulder.

She pats Baby on the head with a hand

that smells like flowers.

“Good boy,” she says. “Good, good boy.”

Baby sneezes in agreement

as the woman with the flower hands

walks away.

Jewel unwraps the paper.

The joyous smell of cheese, butter, meat

fills the little dog’s nose.

Rapture! He barks.

Jewel tears the sandwich,

puts half on the ground for Baby.

“Remember this, Baby,” Jewel says.

Baby cocks his head to one side and listens.

“There are good folks out there.”

“Some bad folks, but mostly good.”

“Don’t ever forget, Baby. Mostly good.”

Baby licks his white paws

over and over and over

tasting every last crumb.

7

Divided

“What do you mean, I can’t stay with my family?” Daddy asks for maybe the millionth time. His voice is a notch higher than the last time he asked.

Dylan clutches Daddy’s leg. My heart pounds in panic.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Trudeau, but that’s the rule at the emergency shelter,” the woman behind the desk explains. “Women and children stay in this building, and men in the shelter next door. It’s for security reasons.”

I look at Mama. Surely she can fix this. Mama is famous for her negotiation skills. Grandpa Bill used to say Mama could talk the chicken right off the bone.

But Mama’s eyes fill with tears. Her nose is red. She’s clutching and unclutching the handle of the suitcase.

My grandma Bess used to say, the hotter the water, the stronger the tea. Let me tell you, right now the Trudeau family is in a heck of a lot of hot water.

I take a deep breath, stick my chin out, and say real importantly, “Our family has to stay together, ma’am.” I hope she can’t see my knees knocking. I look at her name tag. “Becky,” I add.