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a C puts it when she cooks. I put it on the counter next to the stove. Then I turn the stove on.

I go into the living room and sit down to wait.

At 11:44 I smell smoke.

I walk back into the kitchen. The dish towel is on fire.

At school we learned that if there’s a fire you should call 911 and stop, drop and roll! But there isn’t a phone here at the Little White House and the kitchen is really tiny.

The fire is getting bigger. It crackles. It reaches up to the shelf above the counter. I want someone to stop it but no one is here.

Then the smoke alarm goes off. It is loud and scary and I don’t like loud noises so I put my hands over my ears and recoil. The noise doesn’t go away so after exactly seven seconds I open my eyes and put my arms down and run to the sink.

Now the fire is on the counter too. I fill a glass with water and throw it at the flames. The fire goes down a little. Black smoke is everywhere. I throw more water on it and after three glasses the fire is mostly out but now the dish towel has a big black hole in it. It smokes when I pick it up. It smells bad. There are some red parts on the towel that are still glowing so I throw it away in the garbage. I don’t want Crystal with a C to see it. Plus it’s ruined anyway. My eggs have water in them now so I throw them away too. I scrape them into the garbage and put the frying pan down on the counter. The counter has a big black mark on it where the dish towel used to be. I put a bowl of apples on top of it.

But the smoke alarm is still going off and it’s hard to see and I am coughing so I go outside and stand in the driveway. I look toward the road and start counting.

When I get to 537 Crystal with a C comes home. She gets out of the car and looks at me and then looks at the Little White House. I look too. Because I wasn’t looking before. A lot of black smoke is coming through the screen door.

Crystal with a C runs inside.

When she comes out she has the garbage can with her. Smoke is pouring out of it. She dumps all the garbage on the ground. I see fire. She jumps up and down on the flames and on all the garbage. The fire goes out.

Then Crystal with a C hits the top of the car with her hands. “Ginny!” she screams. She is crying. She cries and cries and then she says, “The police are in town talking with everybody they see. They’re showing your picture to everyone. Someone saw you, goddamn it! You’ve been seen! And now I come home to this?”

I don’t say anything.

“Get in the car,” she says. “Just get in the car! I’ll go get your backpack. We have to leave!”

EXACTLY 2:48 IN THE AFTERNOON,

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 21ST

We are driving.

The backseat is filled with all of Crystal with a C’s clothes. She threw them in fast before we left the Little White House. I am holding my backpack on my lap. When I asked where we were going she said she didn’t know yet. She said we just need to be moving.

Crystal with a C cried three times while she was driving. Once at 11:53, once at 12:28 and again at 1:14. I do not know why she cried. When I ask her she says it’s because she doesn’t know what to do. We can’t go to Canada yet, she says, and we can’t go to her other apartment. And we can’t stay in the Little White House anymore because the police will find us.

We are driving on the highway again. It is the same highway we were on when we left school three days ago. I know because of the signs. The sign we just passed said Greensborough, Exit 33, 1 Mile. So I say, “Why are we here again?”

And Crystal with a C says, “Because we have to go back the other direction. The police know we went west, so we have to go east. And that means backtracking. You know what backtracking is, don’t you?”

I don’t but the word makes sense. Backtracking. So I nod my head yes.

“We’re going to have to take a little detour, too,” she says.

“Because of the blockade?” I say.

“Yes, because of the blockade,” she says. “We’re going to have to go straight through town. So I’m going to need you to get down. Just scrunch yourself down below the window. Right now. Get on the floor and make yourself as small as possible so no one can see you. And I’ll put a jacket over your head. That way the police won’t know you’re there when we go past them. I need you to hide, Ginny.”

“I’m a good hider,” I say. Then I get down on the floor and Crystal with a C puts a coat over my head. I can’t see where we are anymore but that’s okay because I know Crystal with a C will come through for me.

We turn and we slow down and turn again and drive for a little while. It’s too dark so I can’t see my watch. Then we turn three more times. Right, left, left. And the car stops.

I hear Crystal with a C’s voice. “Ginny, stay right where you are. I’m going to get out of the car for a minute. Be ready.”

The driver’s-side door opens and closes. Seven seconds pass. Then the car door on my side of the car opens. “Okay, Ginny, get out!” says Crystal with a C in a loud whisper. “We have to move to a different car! Get out fast. Keep your head down low!”

I

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