As the car drove down the dark highway, Cassandra fell asleep, her little body tense even in sleep. She woke when they came to a stop.
“Sorry, I have to stop for gas. Would you like something to eat?” Lilly asked gently.
“Yes!” she thought. But she knew better than to answer an adult’s question. Looking down at her hands, she shook her head.
“Well, I’m starving.” Lilly’s voice was so calm, it almost made Cassandra believe she could trust her. “You stay put. Promise me?”
Cassandra glanced at the woman. Her smile was so bright. Her blue eyes looked so kind. If ever there was an angel, Cassandra believed it was her caseworker, Lilly. Nodding her head, she looked back down at her dirty hands.
Lilly got out of the car, shutting the door gently behind her.
Cassandra didn’t watch as she pumped gas; she kept her eyes and head down like she’d been taught. But when Lilly walked towards the little gas station, she picked her eyes up and glanced towards the building. After she saw Lilly walk through the doors, she looked around. This was a new place. It wasn’t the gas station her father had stopped at. This was someplace she’d never been before. Her eyes got wide as she looked at the bright lights. There were large machines sitting right outside the doors.
Cassandra couldn’t read well, so she didn’t know what the red and white words said. She’d learned her colors from a book she’d had when she was four. Red was spelled R-E-D. She knew all the colors and often would close her eyes and remember every page of the small cloth book that her stepmother had burned one day when she’d been looking at it instead of sleeping.
When she saw Lilly walking back, she quickly ducked her head back down, looking at her dirty fingers. Then she noticed the dirt on the carpet of the car from her shoes. Jumping down, she quickly picked up the larger pieces and shoved them into her mouth and tried to swallow them.
“Here now,” Lilly said, getting into the car. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” She sat back up and prayed that the woman didn’t see the dirt she wasn’t quick enough to get.
“What do you have in your mouth?” Lilly asked.
“Nothing,” Cassandra said again, looking out the window. Tears were streaming down her face.
“Cassandra, look at me, please.” The “please” broke through her defenses, and she looked over at the woman.
“I’m not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you again. I promise. Now tell me what you have in your mouth, please.”
“Dirt,” she blurted out. “I’m sorry. I got dirt in your pretty car. I didn’t…” She stopped talking and jumped away when Lilly reached over and touched her hand gently.
“Cassandra, look down here.” She pointed to her side of the car. Dirt was all over the floor, even on her clothes. “I’m dirtier than you are, I think.” She smiled at her and something shifted in Cassandra’s heart.
“You…” She took a deep breath. “You aren’t mad at me?”
Lilly shook her head. “No, honey. Now open your door and spit the dirt out. It must taste gross.”
Cassandra did as she was asked. She’d learned long ago to always do what grownups told her to.
“Now, I bet this will taste a great deal better.” She pulled a white bag between them. “I know it’s not good to give children soda, but I think this one time we can make an exception.” She pulled out a can that looked just like the machine she’d been looking at earlier.
“What is it?” Cassandra asked and then quickly tucked herself into a ball. She knew better than to ask questions. She must be tired to let her guard slip so much.
“It’s okay, honey. You can ask all the questions you want. It’s called a Coke. Would you like to try it?”
Cassandra nodded.
“I have a turkey sandwich and some potato chips here. I bought enough for you, just in case you got hungry. We still have a long way to drive before morning.”
Cassandra looked at the sandwich. It was wrapped in a bag, and the chips were her favorite kind. She’d snuck one from Kimberly’s large bag once and had gotten a whooping, but it had been worth it.
Lilly took out another sandwich and a bag of potato chips and started eating. Cassandra watched her for a few minutes, and then slowly reached over for the food. She wasn’t starved. Her father had seen to it that she’d looked plenty healthy when the police showed up, but she was given only what she needed.
“Kids don’t need to eat much. After all, all you do is sleep and poop,” her father had told her over and over. She always thought there was something wrong with her because she wanted to go outside and play—to run in the dirt road, to jump off the tire hill that was in their front yard, or to just lay in the grass and watch the clouds go by.