Page 10 of Kandie Shoppe

“Good evening, little ladies,” the ancient store clerk calls as soon as the bell jingles. His mahogany skin shines under the bright light. “Where y’all people at?”

His smile falters when Kerania shrugs. She should know better. Epes is just a county over. People around here ain’t no better than Shelby-Love when it comes to minding other people’s business.

“Our mom is home with our baby brother. She told us to come get him some medicine. Daddy’s working the night shift at the plant.” Giving him my best smile, I mingle the truth with lies.

“Ah, y’all one of those new families that came with the car plant,” he muses, unknowingly supplying me with more of a background.

“Yes, sir,” I say, following my sister.

“The baby stuff is the next aisle over.” He nods to his left.

In unison we move to our right heading down the aisle he indicates.

“Fifteen, twenty-nine.” Giving us the total, he looks at us. His eyes tighten a little at Kerania. That dang gasoline. He looks outside, then back at us.

“Thank you, sir.” Handing him the twenty, I watch as he takes the money.

“Y’all be careful out there. This is a small town, but it’s still not okay for little girls to be out this time at night.” Casting a look outside, he gives me the change. I don’t bother looking. I just pocket the money, already feeling like we are running out of time.

“Yes, sir,” this time Kerania chimes in along with me.

The shop bells rings. “Well, I’ll be,” Deputy Davies from the Shelby-Love Sheriff Department says, letting the door bang against his back as he takes us both in.

“Go,” Kerania shouts, picking up one of the first things she lays her hands on by a nearby display and throwing it into his face.

Grabbing the medicine I race to the back of the store. I know I can’t go back to the truck when I hear him shout to someone, “Go get the other one.”

Running as fast as I can, I turn in the opposite direction from my parents. I hear footfalls eating up the distance behind me. I know if I make it to the nearby neighborhood, I’ll be able to climb up something to hide until they give up.

The gates are so high. The blood is pumping in my ears as I race passed house after house, hearing the pounding footsteps behind me. I hear a lot of dogs. Down here, most people keep their dogs outside in their yards. Tapping a gate that doesn’t have a bark following, I grab the top of the fence to pull myself over. I’m just getting my leg over the top when a rough hand drags me back down.

I hit the ground with a thud that stings my behind.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” an Epes deputy whose name badge I can’t see demands.

I don’t answer him knowing the hell that awaits.

3 MonthsLater

“This is your room.”The kindly matron shows us into the spartan quarters. There are two beds that are neat but may as well be cots with the mattresses being so thin.

The blankets folded at the base are so threadbare they may as well be sheets. I guess we should be thankful because it’s already hot in here and I don’t see an air conditioner and the vents don’t seem to be on.

“We only turn it on from nine p.m. to five a.m.,” the matron says in answer to my unspoken question. “The showers are down the hall and to the right. You will be expected to bathe every night between seven and nine p.m. The temperature of the water is purely determined by first come first serve. You are to maintain your own hair. We have products donated that should meet your needs. You are expected at assembly in twenty minutes.” With that, she leaves us alone.

“This place ain’t right,” I say to Kerania.

“You ain’t lying about that. I can’t believe Uncle Spence agreed to this,” she muses, looking out into the woods that the Shelby Children’s Home has been situated on.

“And that preacher? Smarmy.” Turning up my nose, I try and fail to quell a shudder.

“Yeah.” She turns her eyes on me. “They ain’t going to let us near anything that we can make tools out of. That ol’ hag told them about our ‘proclivities’.” She emphasizes with air quotes.

“We need to make friends. I know there are other kids who want out of this place.” I walk over to the window and look down. Nothing on the sides for me to grapple on. These flimsy sheets barely cover the bed. There is no way they could support our weight.

“Yeah, you’re better with people. I’m sneakier.” I nod then ask, “Do you think they are okay?”

“Yep.” For the first time in all these months since we were caught, I see a glimmer of emotion from my sister. Mommy and Daddy never came back. We know it’s because they can’t. There is a statewide alert on them for kidnapping. How can you kidnap your own children? They blamed them for the arson. Said they were armed and dangerous.

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