Awake and Dreaming (3 page)

Ms. Cohen was back at her desk when Theo returned to it. She smiled. “Hello, there! Theo Caffrey, isn't it?”

Theo nodded.

“Is Theo short for something?”

“Theodora,” mumbled Theo.

“That's a beautiful name. What have you found today? Oh, you'll love this. I read it when I was your age! What a lot of books you've taken out in only a week! You're an exceptional reader for your age. Why don't you pick some more? You can take as many as you like.”

“No, thank you,” said Theo. Ever since she'd lost a library book and Rae had had to pay for it, she wouldn't let Theo take home more than one book at a time.

“Well, enjoy it. It's a treat to see these wonderful old stories being borrowed.” The librarian checked out the book, handed it back, and gazed at Theo thirstily. “I just wish some of the others read as many good books as you do.”

Theo flushed and put the book into her bag. Librarians always went into ecstasy over her. Soon she'd be called in to the counsellor to find out why she did so poorly in school, in spite of the fact that she read so much.

B
EHIND THE SCHOOL
was a grassy playground. Even though it was raining, Theo sat down on a swing, watching the water dribble down the shiny wood of the teeter-totters. She swayed gently, pretending she was a princess.

This is the royal park, she thought. Over there are peacocks and fountains. In a few minutes I will be called
in to dinner by my nanny and eat roast chicken and mashed potatoes off golden plates …

“Hi, Theo!” Theo looked up and tried to focus. It was Angela, holding hands with a tired-looking woman in a shapeless black coat. “Mum, this is Theo, a new girl in our class.”

Angela's mother smiled, but she didn't seem to speak English.

“I really liked your poem,” said Angela shyly. “I thought it was the best in the class! It sounded so—so
real
.”

“Mmm,” said Princess Theo haughtily. She willed Angela to go away so she could continue her game.

Angela's eager smile turned to disappointment. “Well, goodbye. See you tomorrow.” She led her mother away and Theo immediately forgot about them.

She tried to carry on being a princess but her pants were soaked and it was getting late.

She began to walk home. Her wet hair dripped into her eyes and water seeped through the cracked soles of her runners. Her toes bumped painfully against the fronts.

Theo always lingered on the first part of the walk, where renovated old houses were crowded together pleasantly. She stopped in front of her favourite house. Its blue window boxes were planted with tiny fir trees that were still decorated with red bows for Christmas. The front door was sunny yellow. It looked like a house in a little child's drawing—bright and friendly and neat. On the top floor was a small round window like a peep-hole. That would be
my
room, thought Theo.

After she passed the hospital, the houses became shabbier; then they were replaced by low apartment buildings. The closer Theo came to her own block, the louder the traffic noise from the busy street behind it.

Theo stopped at the corner store beside her apartment. She stooped to pick up two cigarette butts for Rae. Then she slinked into the store, hoping the owner had a customer. But he was alone and kept his eyes on her as she examined the candy display.

The longer she looked, the more moist her mouth became. Two days ago she'd managed to sneak a chocolate bar into her pocket when the store owner was helping someone.

The week before Rae was paid was always a lean one. All Theo had had to eat today were two jam sandwiches—one for breakfast and one for lunch.

“Are you going to buy anything or not?” the man growled.

Theo shook her head and scuttered out of the store. She couldn't put off going home any longer.

2

T
he lobby of the small grey building smelled like cabbage. Theo trudged down the dingy stairwell and along the hall of the basement, pushing past someone's laundry hung to dry. A TV game show blared from behind Mrs. Mitic's door.

Opening her own door, Theo took out the cigarette butts, then dropped her sodden jacket. She pried off her wet shoes and socks and rubbed her sore toes. The same show droned from the small TV in the living-room.

“
Where
have you been?” scolded Rae. She stood up. “It's almost four-thirty! You know I have to be out of here in an hour.”

“Sorry,” mumbled Theo.

Her mother began stirring something on the stove. Theo dropped the cigarette butts into an overflowing ashtray on the table.

“It takes me half an hour longer to get to work from this place,” complained Rae, as she dished out Kraft Dinner for each of them. “I told that to Derek yesterday when I was late and do you know what he said? ‘Too bad, you'll just have to leave earlier.' Doesn't he think I do? It's the damn bus that's never on time, but he doesn't believe me. And he nagged at me again for not wearing a hair net.
And then he wouldn't help Leona and me when this drunk guy called us ‘babes.' He just laughed! One of these days I'm going to tell Derek exactly what I think of him. He pisses me off so much! Theo? Are you listening?”

Theo had been cramming macaroni and cheese into her mouth so fast she'd burned her tongue. She took a long drink of water from her glass. The game show had ended and now the canned laughter of a comedy filled the room.

“You never listen!” said Rae. “Look at me, I have something to tell you.”

Theo tried to pay attention as Rae lit a cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke over the table. Her mother was beautiful. She had long rippling blonde hair, a perfect nose and blue-green eyes. But there were always etched circles under her eyes from working the late shift at the restaurant, and although she was only twenty-five her skin was lined like that of a much older woman.

“I don't want you to go to school tomorrow,” said Rae.

“Why?”

“We're going downtown to do some panning.”

“Oh, no, Rae! I hate that!”

“I'm sorry, but we have to. Our money's almost gone and yesterday I got no tips.”

“I have an important test tomorrow,” Theo tried saying.

“Huh! Since when have you cared about tests? You can write it the next day—I'll give you a note saying you were sick.”

“But—” Theo stopped as she watched anger flicker on Rae's face. Sometimes Rae slapped.

“That's settled, then,” said her mother. “So, kid, do you think I should put a red rinse in my hair? Donna did and it looks great!”

Theo shrugged. But now that Rae was in a good mood again, she ventured a request.

“Rae, I really need shoes. These ones are too small and they leak.”

“But I just got them for you in November!”

“They were already worn out. I guess my feet have grown again.” Theo wished they would stop. Shoes were a constant worry.

“Well, maybe on my day off I'll take you to the Sally Ann.”

Theo took a deep breath. “Do you think—do you think we could afford new ones? I saw some purple slipons in the drug store. They were only ten dollars.”

“If they were only ten dollars, they won't last any longer than used ones.”

Theo looked so downcast that Rae said, “Cheer up, Kitten. I'll tell you what. If we make a lot of money tomorrow I'll take you to Metrotown and buy you some shoes in a real shoe store, okay?” She was using her sweet look-what-a-good-mother-I-am voice. Theo hated that voice—especially since Rae believed it.

And it wouldn't happen. They wouldn't make enough money, and whatever they did make would be used for food and cigarettes.

H
OURS LATER
Theo huddled in bed, clutching a thin grey blanket around her shoulders. But she didn't feel the cold. She was away—deep in the ending of
All-of-a-Kind Family,
as the five girls revelled in their new baby brother. She finished the last words and pored over the picture of them all going for a walk. Then she closed the book softly and lay down.

What a wonderful family! They were poor, like her, but they didn't seem so; they were rich with love and laughter. What would it be like to belong to them? Which one would she want to be? Maybe Henny …

Now Theo began to shiver. This apartment was draftier than the last one and the landlord controlled the heat. She got out of bed, put on socks, a tuque and a sweatshirt, then laid her coat and a small rug on top of the blanket. She crept under it all carefully and squeezed herself into a ball.

The evening was the best part of the day, after Rae had gone to work and Theo was left alone with her book. Mrs. Mitic was supposed to look in on her, but she never did; she was too absorbed in her television.

Rae always wanted Theo to watch TV with her when she was home, but Theo turned if off as soon as her mother left for work. She would read every evening until her book was finished, or until her eyes felt so gritty she had to stop and go to sleep.

Theo had found out about books two years ago. Rae only read the magazines that restaurant cutomers left behind, and she had never read to Theo.

But Theo had a faint memory of sitting on someone's knee, looking at pictures of Peter Rabbit and Wild Things and a cat called Zoom while a kind voice told her about them. That must have been at her grandmother's house in Victoria, before she turned three and went to live with Rae in Vancouver.

After that there were no more stories for years. But in grade two, after she'd learned to read, Theo had picked up a book called
Charlotte's Web
in her classroom. She began it in free reading time, carried on secretly on her lap behind her desk, and finished it after she'd sneaked it home. She and Rae were in between apartments then, living at a shelter.

Theo had sat in a corner away from the other kids. She wept inside herself as the brave spider said goodbye and died. Those days immersed in
Charlotte's Web
were like living in a brightly lit, safe room, like the fragrant warm barn where Charlotte and Wilbur lived.

From then on Theo escaped to that bright world whenever she could. Each of her schools had a library. At first Theo read the first book she grabbed from the shelf. She devoured picture books about George and Martha, chapter books about freckle juice and fried worms, and facts about building igloos and about faraway countries like India. Then one day she picked up
Thumbelina
and for a whole year she read nothing but fairy tales—thin and fat volumes about Cinderella and the Sleeping Beauty and the Seven Swans.

Now her favourites were stories about families or stories about magic. Perfect books combined both, like
the Narnia chronicles about four children who visited a magic land, or
Half Magic,
where a family found a coin that granted them half of each wish.

Theo knew the families in these books as well as if they were her own sisters and brothers. Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy in
Little Women,
Pauline, Petrova and Posy in
Ballet Shoes,
John, Susan, Titty and Roger in the “Swallows and Amazons” series …

Outside the window a siren wailed. Someone smashed a bottle and a man's voice cursed. This was the scariest time of Theo's evenings alone. After she finished reading, she couldn't help thinking that someone might climb in the window, or that the rustling noises in the kitchen weren't mice, but some kind of monster under the sink. Even if she had to pee, she couldn't make herself get up this late; what if something was waiting in the bathroom to grab her? Sometimes she would wet the bed and Rae would yell at her in the morning.

If only Calico Cat were curled up on the end of her bed. Calico Cat had really belonged to the man down the hall in their last apartment. But many evenings she had come in Theo's window and visited her, her elegant body twisting around Theo's feet and purring. But when the landlord had raised the rent, they had had to leave that apartment, as they'd left so many. Did Calico Cat miss her? wondered Theo.

She clutched her old doll. Sabrina's hair stood up in matted tufts all over her balding head. Her dirty rubber body smelled and she had a hole in one arm, carefully
patched with a bandage. Her dress had once been pink but was now a stained grey.

But her blue eyes still opened and shut. Theo had had her for as long as she could remember. “It's all right, Sabrina,” she whispered. “Don't be scared.”

If she lay very still, she could usually escape into her going-to-sleep vision—what she would do if someone granted her a wish. If there really was magic, like a Psammead or a magic coin, Theo knew exactly what she'd wish for …

There would be four children, two boys and two girls. She would be the fifth, cozily in the middle with an older brother and sister to protect her, and younger ones to play with. There would a calm mother and father who never yelled or hit or complained to her. They would all live in a big warm house with lots of food, and new shoes whenever you needed them, and hundreds of books, and a cat …

Magic … that was what she needed. If only she had magic, Theo would wish for a family.

3

S
he sat beside her mother on the bus. At least it had stopped raining. And as much as she hated panning, it wasn't as bad as binning—patrolling the lanes and fishing returnable bottles and other objects out of garbage bins. Theo shivered, trying not to think of the rats they sometimes surprised.

As the bus whined over the bridge to downtown, she gazed at the mountains that rose behind the skyscrapers. They looked so close. What if the bus kept going to the North Shore and climbed right to the top of that mountain? They would get out in dazzling snow. Maybe a different kind of people lived there, who looked like trolls. Maybe they would ask Theo …

“Theo, stop daydreaming! This is our stop!” Rae pulled her off the bus.

The stores had just opened and only a few people were outside. Theo stuck close to Rae as they walked down Granville Street looking for the best spot. In some of the doorways sleeping bodies were rolled up in blankets.