Part One
Chapter One
Samantha turned her face to the wall, determined not to let Miss Cooke see the tears that refused to stay in her eyes but chose to spill down her cheeks and spread out into little damp spots on her pillow.
The sting of the switch hurt more today. Was Miss Cooke more angry or was I more bad? I dont think I was. All I did was hang behind the line so I could grab a biscuit from the table for Molly. Mollys sick in bed and Miss Cooke doesnt even care.
Samantha heard the tall old doors close to the dormitory, scraping and sagging, as they always did, from their rusty hinges. She waited a full minute before turning on her back because Miss Cooke had been known to pretend to leave and then swoop back in, hoping to catch one of the hapless girls in some wrong-doing. All was quiet. Samantha dropped noiselessly to the floor and knelt beside her best friend, Molly. She held her fingers to her lips so Molly would not speak out.
Sh-h-h. I think shes gone, but we mustnt take any chances. Molly, how do you feel? Any better? Im so sorry I couldnt bring some food to you.
Molly, her hair a mass of honey-blonde curls, lifted sad dull eyes to her friend. Oh, Molly, you have such dark circles under your eyes. Samantha hugged her gently, and was alarmed at the heat that came from the frail little body.
Oh, Molly. I wish I could make you feel better. I love you so much. Ill sneak into the kitchen tonight and see if I can find you some food. I dont care if I get caught. Do you remember what we have planned, Molly? You have to get better so we can do it!
Late that night, when Samantha slipped from her bunk to the floor to check on Molly, one look and one touch told the innocent little child that her best friend had died. She turned to the bunk beds next to hers and called, Sippy! Hurry and get Miss Dillard.
When the headmistress of the orphanage arrived, breathless and bothered, annoyed at the other girls flocking around her and distressed at the trouble this was sure to bring, Samantha gathered her few belongings into a pillow case, pulled on a pair of ill-fitting jeans and dirty sneakers, and left the dormitory room. She walked down the gloomy hall and out the front door. She went down the steps and the long walk of broken cement, out onto the grassy lane, and into the night, the confusion in the orphanage providing her with the perfect cover.
No one is ever going to hurt Molly again. Or me. I will never see The Home again. Please, God, take good care of Molly. Shell be a lot happier with you than back here.
Twice Samantha had to slip behind a bush to hide from passing cars. She knew just where she was going. She had planned this months ago, but Molly was supposed to be part of the running-away from that horrid place. On the few times she had been taken to town to help with shopping, she had noted that the train had to slow down considerably at the sharp curve east of town.
Good! The clouds are covering the moon. Ill just squat down here and wait.
Soon Samantha felt the rumble of the approaching freight train so she inched towards the tracks. The monstrous engine belched and sputtered its way to the curve and then slowed down to make the turn. Samantha leapt like a deer and caught the iron ladder to one of the cars, dropping the pillow case with her pitifully few personal items, and losing one of her shoes. She shinnied up to the top of the car and, lying flat, inched her way along the sooty roof. The train was gaining speed, so Samantha flung herself around and down to the open sliding door of a box car, and heaved herself inside. She dropped into a heap on the floor, her hands and knees bleeding, her face scratched and sore, her little body shaking with dry sobs.
I did it! Im free. Ive been planning this for five yearsever since they left me at The Home. And now I did it. Im ten years old and I can take care of myself.
*
No! You cant make me! I wont go back. I wont!
Samantha stamped her feet and clenched her fists and shook her tear-stained face.
No! Take your hands off me. I wont go back!
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