The Notice

"Susie Caudle, please come to the front desk."



I lift my head from my desk and glance up at the PA system. The woman's high pitched voice makes me nauseous. I could feel the eyes of the other children dissecting my every move. I quietly gathered my books and pulled my backpack strap over my shoulder before walking shamefully out of the classroom. The moment I hear the door secure behind me I sprint towards the staircase. 



"Damn-it," I curse under my breath, almost tripping over my own feet. As I reach the lower level I see my mother waving me down from the front desk. I try to catch my breath as I jolt over to her. 



"C'mon Susie, we have to go now," she says frantically as she turns and pushes the front doors open. 



"Miss. Caudle you have to sign out before you leave," the front administrator stresses. 



I ignore her and run alongside my mother to the unsightly green Dodge Neon and jump inside. She puts the keys in the ignition and speeds off.



"How much time do we have?" I ask her hopefully.



"Thirty minutes, tops."



"That's total bullshit, what are we going to do?"



"Grab only the necessities, then if you have time go back for the rest."



I look out the window, trying to stay strong in front of my mother. As she pulls onto our street I see my older brother unloading his TV onto the sidewalk. He scowls as he see's us pulling up and turns quickly to go back inside the house. 



"Kevin will get over it, he just needs time," my mother reassures herself.



I get out of the car and run to my front door. Two middle aged men are standing at the entrance chuckling until they see my mother and I coming towards them. I walk past them into my bedroom and begin to collect my things to bring outside. 



"Please sir, I have an infant. Could you please just give me more time?"



"I'm sorry Ms. Caudle, but it's not up to me. You have fifteen more minutes."



I roll my eyes at the pompous assholes as I walk through the front door lugging bags of my clothes. I drop the bags on the sidewalk and kneel down to take a deep breath and gather my thoughts.



"Well howdy there sweetheart," a familiar voice calls out.



I glance up to see my uncle standing next to his pristine Ford pickup, smiling down on me. I run into his arms and begin to fall apart.



"They're taking everything Uncle Ralph, we have nothing left," I cry out to him.



"Now darling that isn't true; they can't take your family from you, now can they?"



"We have nowhere to go, nothing to eat."



I begin to grasp the reality of living on the streets again and start hyperventilating. I grab onto his plaid shirt sleeve and feel my knees buckle under me. Uncle Ralph picks me up and lays me on his truck bed.



"Baby girl, you think that I would ever let you go hungry? Hell no, I love you too much to see you living back on the streets. You will be staying with me for as long as it takes for your mother to get back on her feet."



I stare into his weathered blue eyes in awe, his humanity leaving me speechless. No shelters, no stale bread, no icy steel beds, or child predators? He just smiles at me tenderly and wipes the tears rolling off my cheeks.



"So pack everything up in the truck bed Q so we can tell these ass holes where to stick it," I gave a laugh even in this dire moment.



I run back to the house and tell my Mother of the great news. Her eyes welling up, she began to weep holding her baby girl in her arms. She walked outside and fell to her knees. I immediately grabbed my sister from her arms as she knelt before him expressing her gratitude. Her hair a tangled mess, and her makeup running, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her in her moment of weakness. Ralph pulls her from the sullied pavement and strokes her knotted, yellow hair. He whispers in her ear, and she burst out laughing. A feeling of calm overcame me; I look down to my sister and kiss her forehead. 



We finish packing what we could retrieve in the thirty minutes and pull away from the apartment. I never looked back. I was daydreaming when I felt the truck come to a sudden stop. I peer out the window to see a picturesque two story house and acres of lush green grass. Everything feels so surreal as my uncle takes my hand in his and guides me to my new home. I drop my things onto my bedroom floor and look around for a moment, taking everything in. I walk outside and lay under an oak tree. For hours I stare up at the clouds and watch the quirky squirrels playing tag. The sun rays begin to dissipate, but I feel too exultant to go back in the house. 



After a few hours, my Uncle walks out from the house with his hands tucked in his pockets. I sit up and smile at him warmly. He had always walked with a calm demeanor, as if he hadn't a care in the world. He sat down next to me and for a moment we were silent, staring up at the stars.



"I want to give you something Q," he said slyly.



"Ralph, you have given me the world today."



"Well Q, I know you're a very special girl, and you've been through a lot. I know you must have endless stories bottles up inside that brain of yours."



Clueless to what he was getting at, I just nod my head in agreement. 



"You know what; it's damn chilly out here. Take my jacket darlin'," he insists.



"Alright, thank you Ralph."



He helps me slide into the over-sized jacket and gives me a tight hug.



"You better get on in here soon and eat some supper."



I smile and promise him I'll only be a few more minutes. I sit back down and pull the jacket tighter around me; the smell of his Old Spice cologne makes me feel secure. I slid my cold hands into the toasty pockets and feel something odd. I pull out a small brown, leather bound journal and gasp. It's absolutely beautiful; I untie the delicate leather straps and open it to come across a page already written. It reads, "To my dearest Susie Q, you are a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful personality. I know life hasn't been easy for you, but I promise you that good things will come soon. I want you to write down all your dreams and aspirations, and one day those dreams will come true. Write of your experiences, good or bad. Write about whatever you're always daydreaming of. Just write. I love you always. Ralph Freeman." 



I clench the journal to my chest and finally feel what it is to truly be loved.