Blank Book Story

Chapter one- The Girl With Her Life in a Bag

On a lazy afternoon, Juno sat on the spacious porch outside her house. The sky was overcast with rolling clouds, moving quickly in a high wind. Down below, on street level, the breeze was slight, and the street was covered in a gray, gently pulsing light. It looked like the sky was about to pour. Juno liked to be there when it rained, to watch the block- which was completely paved and had no drains except the pumps in everyone's basements- as it flooded.

In Juno's lap were a few rags of varying patterns, which she was carefully stitching together. The thread wound around the legs of the stained rocking chair, and crossed the porch to tangle at the foot of a giant wooden spool on wheels; the thread changed colors every few feet, the strings tied together with tight ugly knots. Juno used a slightly different stitch for every seam; she was doing her homework.

Thunder rumbled. Juno looked up at the sky in the vain hope of glimpsing lightning. Of course she saw nothing, the thunder always came second. But a walker along the side of the road did catch her eye.

Juno draped her work on the arm of her chair, and waved. She spoke before she'd really looked at the person, off-handedly assuming it to be a neighbor. "What are you doing outside on this dreary evening?" she called.

It was a little girl with a bag over her shoulder, walking with heavy steps. In the dim light, she looked gray and wretched. The girl faced Juno when she spoke. Her expression was blank, her eyes large and round. Juno was chilled for a moment; the face of a normal little girl, no matter how stern, had a glow to it, and you could see her wonder at the world in every movement. The child in the street looked like she had seen it all, and wanted it to go away. She looked like she knew her life was ending.

For a few long moments, the sad girl scrutinized Juno. Then she began to walk away. Juno's heart twanged. It was written all over the child's face, in her long dirty hair, in her unkempt pajamas, her bare feet, and especially in the tiny sack that she was holding so tight her knuckles were turning white- this girl was an urchin, helpless and rejected. Juno had never seen one before.

Juno's first instinct was still to leave her be, because a strange child would bring nothing but trouble to a sheltered family. But that thought horrified her. No mater what plagues tortured the poor girl, Juno would have to be an inhumane monster not to reach out to her.

The urchin was almost at the end of the street now. Not wanting to lose her, Juno left her sewing and ran. "Wait… Girl!" Without looking back, the girl broke into an all-out run. "I can get you out of the rain… at least for tonight!"

Even with her longer legs, Juno was no match for a child accustomed to running for her life. But the child hesitated when she heard Juno's friendly offer, and soon she had stopped running altogether. She turned around as Juno wound to a halt.

The girl was wearing earrings almost as big as her face, shaped like stylized paws. A bauble of the same pattern was sewn to her light gray pajamas. The design looked unfamiliar to Juno. "I'll come into your home," the girl said shyly, but levelly. Something about the way she said it struck Juno as foreboding. And she wasn't finished; "…But only if you give me a kiss."

Juno blinked, startled. But she was in no position to refuse. "All right…little girl," She scooped the girl, who still resisted a little, into her arms. She kissed her on the forehead the way she remembered her mother doing, as she returned to the house. "What's your name?"

"My name is Jinka," she answered. Then she pressed her lips together, refusing to say anything else.

Juno smiled, surprised again. "I'm Juno- our names start with the same letter! I always say that's a sign of destiny!" A look something like reluctance appeared in Jinka's face. Juno wondered if she'd been too forward. "Heheh… it's really kind of stupid of me, isn't it?" she added. Jinka didn't react.

Once the two were on the porch, sheets of rain began to fall. Juno kept a hold of Jinka with one arm while she wound up her string with the other. Jinka obliged by clinging fast to Juno, her face nuzzled in Juno's windbreaker. Juno indulged in one last selfish thought- she would have liked to watch the rain, instead of escorting a kid. She pushed the spool through the door, then shut it tight.

The inside of the house had a yellow glow, thanks to the antique wallpaper that had been there since the time Juno's family bought the house. On the right was an actual parlor, with glass doors and someone else's coat of arms hanging over a broad fireplace. There used to be a small prismatic chandelier, but Juno's mom had sold it during her desperate time of unemployment. The chimney had been sealed up to stop drafts, hail, and crows, but a faux fire glowed in the hearth. There were a few old tables and chairs, which had also come with the house, but were not fancy enough to be proper antiques. There was one green plastic sofa under the small windows.

Juno's mother, Azalea, was reclining on the sofa under a blanket, reading Consumer Reports. On the chair behind her was a stack of papers for Urban Awareness, the magazine she edited. Her curly hair was pulled in a short ponytail. It was the only physical feature Juno had in common with her mother, the former having inherited none of the latter's Latino looks. Juno cleared her throat. Azalea jumped, her mouth forming a small 'o'. "It was so peaceful in here… And then you had to come in," she laughed, half joking.

"…Mom…" Juno prodded, nervous and unsure of how to break the news, "I found this girl outside, just before it started raining. She says her name's Jinka. She's obviously homeless… I think we should find her a place to stay." Jinka squirmed around to look at Azalea, by way of introduction.

Azalea's eyes finally locked on the child in Juno's arms. Her face briefly contorted in shock, but she quickly composed herself. Azalea could always compose herself. She dropped her magazine and clumsily threw the blanket off, beginning to walk briskly. "We need to call the police, and the nearest orphanage, as quickly as possible. She's not your responsibility, Juno."

Juno's stomach sunk, because half of her agreed with her mother. The other half thought Azalea was being unreasonably cold. "Stop! Stop!" Jinka squealed. "I just escaped from them! They'll take my bag!"

Azalea had barely reached the kitchen door. She pinched her eyebrows and looked at Jinka again. Juno imagined what she was thinking. 'The homeless kid isn't supposed to speak up. It's supposed to sit around while we act sympathetic and mature.'

"Put me down, Juno," instructed Jinka. Juno squeezed her slightly, then slowly lowered her to the floor. She expected her mother to grab Jinka by the arm and drag her away at any moment. Jinka felt the floor and assured her balance. She stood straightly and looked Azalea in the eyes with a meditated resolve alien to the face of a child. "Thank you, Juno. Now, Ma'am… Don't touch the phone."

Azalea was so startled, she sat down. Jinka's eyes followed her. She wasn't too surprised to forget what she wanted, however. "Little g… Jinka, we're not your family. You need someone who can take care of you."

"You're not poor," Jinka retorted. "You could take care of an ordinary little girl. I'm even easier; I can pull my weight. I just want you to keep me an absolute secret. If anyone hears I'm alive, I'm dead. And if anyone even touches this bag I'm holding, they're dead, too. That's why I need to hide in your house."

This short speech was Jinka's greatest surprise yet. Juno was uneasily beginning to wonder what she had invited into her home. Azalea seemed a little suspicious, as if a ventriloquist was hiding somewhere; surely a child Jinka's age couldn't talk like she did?

Jinka smiled. They aint seen nothin' yet.

"All right," sighed Azalea. "What else can I say? I'll talk to Juno's father. Unless he has something to add, you'll stay until we can find you a family." Having said that, she returned tiredly to her magazine.

"Didn't you hear a word I said!" Jinka puffed herself up in anger. But Azalea refused to look at her intimidating stare.

Juno put her hand on Jinka's shoulder, and smiled in a way she thought was reassuring. "Mom's not the only one in this house. I'll make sure she doesn't talk about you. How about we get you cleaned up?"

Jinka deflated slightly. "Yeah, this punk's not worth my time," she grunted, still squinting at Azalea.

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The soothing sound of rain echoed through the walls. Juno just couldn't be angry with that sound in the background, even with a stubborn urchin arguing in the foreground.

Jinka sighed, and talked as if Juno were the kindergartener, and was having trouble understanding something. "I can't let go of my bag… because if I don't have it with me at all times… someone might steal from it. And I can't allow anything in the bag to be stolen."

The bathroom was tiled in blue and maroon, with heavy blinds across the two windows. There was no old furniture here; with the exception of a charming broken clock in the kitchen, all the old things were kept in the parlor. The tub was full of warm water, and soap and bubble stuff was ready at the side. Jinka was wrapped in a towel, her clothes and bizarre earrings in a pile on top of a wicker basket. But she wouldn't let go of her bag, even though she was visibly enticed by the prospective bath, which she must not have had in a long time.

"Why are you so paranoid? The house is locked tight… my parents are paranoid too. No one's going to come in and take your stuff," Juno reasoned.

"The ones I'm worried about can smash locks."

At least that was the sort of thing a little kid said, Juno thought. But why did she have to have a chronic fear of bogeymen? "You don't have to worry… I'll protect your bag. I promise I won't even touch it. Just get in the tub before Dad comes home. He's a huge neat freak, and you won't make a good impression if you're dirty."

Jinka leered. "Trying to bargain, are you? Like I'm some baby who can be scared by parental authority? Everything of mine in the world is in this bag. It's like my life is in there. I'm not letting go."

Juno breathed deeply. Maybe she shouldn't try to treat Jinka like a kid. But it was so hard! One look at her and thousands of years of maternal instinct kicked in. Juno knew for sure that a dirty Jinka would put her dad off, though. For the girl's own sake she had to get her in the tub. She hooked her arms underneath Jinka's own, and lifted her over the water. "You don't know my pop like I do!" Juno hollered.

Jinka struggled violently. She managed to punch Juno in the jaw, and kick her in the gut, but the child seemed surprised with her own weakness. "Gerrof or you're sorry! The bo- the bag can't get wet!" she screeched piercingly. But Juno was able to successfully let her down into the water, without getting so much as a drop of water on the precious bag. Jinka's left arm hung over the edge of the tub, but she soon relaxed. "...That wasn't too bad, I suppose. Maybe I should take it easy for awhile."

Juno collapsed on the floor. "Mom would have loved to see this…" she moaned.

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