Week one

"Willy," Charlie said after school one day. "Please stop moping about."

"I can't Charlie. I wish I could," he replied. He hadn't seen Chance in a week. George had proved to be correct so far. That first day, he worried, recalling her last words were for him not to worry. She left, and Willy was starting to believe it.

"William," George said when he came into the house. "You must stop lazing around. She's gone, that's what street beggar's do. They shelter with someone else until it's a proper time for them to leave."

"She stayed," he said. "She hung out in the woods, but she came here to be with me. She hadn't resisted. I don't understand." Mrs. Bucket came into the room.

"Willy," she sighed. "what can I do?"

"You can't bring her back. Not much," he replied. She hated seeing him like this. Him and Charlie hadn't done a thing together since Chance left. Mrs. Bucket sighed, preparing lunch in the kitchen.

Chance and Tundra docked farther south of the country. The boat stopped and they got off right away.

"Here we go, boy," she said. "This is my real life. It's not much different from yours I'm sure."

They lived on the streets again. She made sure Tundra's coat was clean and he would savage for things when there was nothing to kill. This was their life and the first week was rough. When Chance had her first decent meal, it was the week's end, and it was nothing compared to Mrs. Bucket's cooking. She ate the overcooked meat from a restaurant that was going to toss it, for the kitchen was nothing but perfection in there. Chance and Tundra lived in the back of that restaurant. The people began recognizing her and most of them came out to bring food that wasn't "perfect" according to their perfectionistic boss. The alleyways weren't that terrible. Tundra got a little dirty and there were lots of crooks and police around, but Chance was becoming worse and worse every day.

Every part of her body was dirty and she itched everywhere. Her eyes were dim a lot more. She was exhausted much of the day, and when someone from the restaurant came to set the food out, she knew the guy was new.

"Girl?" he asked into the open alley. "Where are you? Have a 'mistake' according to the boss here."

"Who you calling girl?" she asked, coming out from behind the trash.

"Whoa!" he said surprised. "You're her then."

"Yes, and I'm not a child," Chance answered. "Just set the food down."

"Okay, sorry," he said. Tundra came out from behind his spot.

"Oh, mind getting him some water?" she asked.

"No problem," the man said. "Why are you like this?"

"My dog and I are on the streets. I have no friends, and we eat from here without telling anybody. The question why is not relevant to you and never will be," she told him kindly. He left the dish and Chance split it with the dog and the man came back with water. He set it down without a word and went back to work. His mind was blown away by this girl.

Chance's hair got knotted and she ended up cutting the knots out of her ends. Her hair was shorter and she didn't look at all like she did before. Tundra was given a bath once or twice by an employee who had offered, but Chance had to be there, for he would have a panic attack if she wasn't.

"I thank you guys for doing this for me and my dog," she said.

"No problem. We get scolded more often for wasting food and this is the least I can do for you," the lady replied as she finished washing Tundra. She offered Chance an opportunity to clean up, but she always refused. She found water around and she would wash her clothes there. Later that night, she found a fountain. There was no one on the streets and she stepped into it.

She washed herself off with the water and used a torn off piece of her clothing as a rag to wash her face off. She came back to the back of the restaurant and her and Tundra laid down on the cold stones. Tundra slept easily, but Chance thought about Willy. He occupied her mind almost every day this week. She often thought about what could have happened if she hadn't left, but she kept reminding herself it was better this way.

She could still smell the chocolate on him and remember the blissful feeling she felt when his lips touched hers. In her heart, she still loved him. She didn't like being on the streets, but her thoughts went to killing and everything stopped. Chance shook her head.

"Oh Tundra," she whispered. "What do you think is going on over there right now?" She knew he wouldn't reply, but it helped her conscience. She set her knife close to her side, almost tucked away under her. She closed her eyes, dreaming of him like she had ever since she left.

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