Savvy by Ingrid Law

still sweet as ever. I tried to remember the last time I’d heard him say anything out loud—a day? a week? a month? That was just the way it was with my broody brother. I smiled at Samson now; I never knew he liked banana cream pie.
    “Oh goodie, he speaks,” muttered Bobbi. And with Samson still sitting stone-faced and solemn, a grinning giggle spread through the ranks, turning into a gut- busting crackup as the day’s tension released like waves hitting shore. If I could have forgotten about why I was where I was, I might almost have been happy. Despite the mayhem, for the first time, I felt like I might be making friends—and that even included Bobbi.

    Lester followed Lill’s directions into the town of Emerald. The Emerald Truck Stop Diner and Lounge was on the far edge of town, lit up in weak green neon. Bright white fluorescent light cut through the darkness, spilling out through the glass door at the front of the restaurant. There were some rough and tough-looking motorcycles parked near the road. The parking lot was full of pickup trucks, and semitrailers were lined up like side-by-side train cars in a lot behind the building. Lester had to park the big pink Bible bus past all of these trucks and trailers in a back alley that was cluttered with smelly Dumpsters, stacks of splintered wooden pallets, and old, rotting cardboard boxes.
    “I s’pose I c-could have let you all off up front,” Lester said apologetically, helping Lill down off the bus like she was a princess.
    “Just stick close, kidlings,” said Lill, looking around the poorly lit alleyway. The rest of us climbed down from the bus behind the two adults, stepping past newspapers and torn sheets of dirty industrial plastic that rustled and snapped in the evening breeze. Whether or not the breeze was a normal earthly breeze or the result of Fish’s concern for Poppa, I couldn’t say; his face was unreadable as we marched down the deserted alley.
    Lill took Samson’s hand and he walked between her and Lester without complaint, as though it was something he did every day. I was surprised to see Samson take so quickly to strangers. Though, from the set of his jaw and the stiff way he held his body, I knew that he too was scared and missing Momma and Poppa, and that right now Lill and Lester were the next best thing. Fish walked out ahead of everyone, like a scout making sure the way was safe; Bobbi tramped behind, and Will and I brought up the rear.
    That’s when I saw something that made me jump nearly out of my skin. I stopped on the edge of the parking lot behind the Emerald Truck Stop where the alley fed out into the street. Past a rank Dumpster surrounded by mounds of overstuffed trash bags, a dirty hand was sticking out from under what looked like a pile of old clothes. The hand lay palm up, fingers outstretched like it was reaching out to me for help.
    I grabbed Will’s arm and jerked him back toward me, hardly daring to breathe. The others walked ahead, not noticing the grimy hand or Will and me dropping behind to stare at it and the body of the man it was attached to. I looked at Will and he looked back at me, eyes round in the eerie light from the single nearby streetlamp.
    Looking closer, we saw the still, prone form of an old homeless man, whiskered and filthy and stinking of drink and despair. Will tried to pull me away. He nodded toward several empty bottles scattered on the ground next to the man. “There’s nothing we can do for him, Mibs,” he said, sorry but firm like a police officer directing onlookers away from an accident. “Come on, Mibs, let’s go.” He pulled gently on my arm again, but I didn’t budge.
    “What if he’s dead?” I said in a whisper. My heart was pounding. Watching the man just lying there on the pavement, I couldn’t help but think about Poppa lying just as still and lifeless down in Salina, and my heart came close to bursting.
    “The guy probably just drank too much and passed out, Mibs,”