Chapter 3I Stole a Bone to Survive and Built My Own Empir

The mayor dialed the number, but a moment later, the loud, tinny voice of the automated service filled the room:

“We’re sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer in service…”

I stood there, stunned.

My mother had changed her number.

She had finally, irrevocably, cut the cord.

The mayor put the phone down, looking troubled.

“June, the Township Aid funds are limited.”

“We have elderly folks who would starve without it. You don't have local ties, and you’re an out-of-towner; the money… it’s hard to justify.”

The room fell into a heavy silence.

Finally, Marge spoke up.

“Tell you what. If this girl agrees, she can come to my house every day for a bowl of smashed potato and gravy, and then she can visit the other homes for a side dish of vegetables or meat.”

“There are dozens of families in this village. We won’t let her starve.”

I sank to my knees and bowed my head to the floor.

“Thank you, Ma’am. I will.”

As long as I could live, as long as I could study, I would beg.

For the next year, I carried my container through every alley and to every kitchen door.

I learned to read faces. When someone was reluctant, I would politely accept the bread and eat it alone.

By the time the next New Year came, I had learned not to expect anything.

My life was a cycle of books and begging.

On the day the high school acceptance letters were posted, my hands were shaking as I held the envelope.

I got into the best high school in the county.

But I couldn't smile.

Tuition plus room and board was over two thousand dollars a year. For a girl who survived on handouts, it was an astronomical sum.

I sat on the stoop, staring at the letter.

Give up?

Never.

Just as I ran out of hope, my mother came back.