The Switch by Debra Kayn (desktop ebook reader TXT) 📗

She followed the wall, ready to turn and run if anyone tried to touch her.

Making it to the main room, she hovered at the entrance and looked around at all the people. Most of the men wore a black vest. Women's loud laughter filled the soft parts of the song playing loudly in the building. She stuck her head into the room and looked for the man who offered her food.

She found him behind the counter. He talked with another man and motioned her forward. Glancing around, she darted through the crowd and made it to the round stools without anyone touching her.

The man set a white plate in front of her with the biggest hamburger she'd ever seen on it. "If you don't like tomatoes, pick it off the burger."

Surprised he'd let her do that, she crawled up onto the stool. Her legs dangled without her feet touching the floor.

He slid the plate closer. "Fries will be ready in a second. Go ahead and eat."

She waited until he turned away and talked to another man by a doorway in the back, and then she picked up the hamburger, holding the meal in both of her hands. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and bit into the burger.

The warmth hit her stomach. She quickly chewed and took another bite. Starving, she tried to eat as fast as she could before the man came back. Afraid he'd make her pay, she kept an eye on him as she chewed. She had no money to pay for food.

The nice man, who let her eat, pushed through the swinging door and left. She wiped her mouth off with her arm and glanced around. There were no kids in the building, only adults playing pool and talking.

"Careful. They're hot."

She jerked around, only to have the man put a large plate of French fries in front of her. Her mouth watered, seeing the salt sparkling on the fries.

He set a ketchup bottle in front of her with a grin. "You probably want some of this to dip them in and cool 'em off."

He unscrewed the lid. She snatched up the bottle as soon as it hit the counter and shook it over the plate.

The man gave the bottom of the bottle a couple thumps for her. She picked up a fry, dipping it first. She shoved half of it in her mouth, unable to close her lips because her tongue burned.

The man kept looking at her. She eyed his chest and read his patch. WACOM.

"You know what that says?" He pointed to the patch.

She looked away and picked up her burger. Did he think she couldn't read?

None of her spelling lists ever had the word WACOM on it before. She didn't want him to find out that she had no idea what the word meant.

He straightened and moved away. She glanced after him, making sure he wasn't going to take the food away.

Attacking her hamburger, she ate as fast as she could swallow, afraid he'd get angry if she took too long or make her pay for the meal. She scooted her butt on the stool until her toe touched the floor and stayed in that position, prepared to run if he started being mean.

She eyed a napkin dispenser and leaned along the counter, taking one of the white papers. Gazing at the man who'd given her the food to make sure he wasn't looking, she picked up a handful of fries and set them on the napkin, wrapping them, and holding on to the bundle. It was too big to put in her pocket.

"Dutch!"

The man looked around and then lifted his chin at a group by one of the pool tables. "Give me a minute."

She looked behind her to see who he was talking to, and an old man lifted his arm and threw something across the room.

Dutch? She'd never heard anyone called that name before.

Voices grew louder behind her. She crammed another fry into her mouth before she'd swallowed her bite of burger. Her stomach rumbled. Used to the gnawing and angry sounds, she wanted to calm her hunger.

Intent on eating, she ran out of ketchup. She blindly reached for the bottle while taking another bite.

Dutch approached her. "I've got it."

She jerked her hand back and slipped off the stool. The temptation to finish the fries kept her from running out of the building.

"Sit up and stay still." He frowned. "You need something to drink? Milk or something?"

He walked away. She climbed back up on the stool, using the time without him nearby to dip each of the fries and shove them in her mouth.

Once she finished and used her finger to clean the ketchup that was left on the plate, she eyed the rest of her burger. She could carry that with her.

Looking around, she couldn't see Dutch in the room. She slid off the stool and skirted the people playing pool. In the hallway, she held out the bottom of her shirt, made a pouch, and dumped the bundled fries and the rest of her burger inside.

She peeked out the back door, making sure no one was around. It'd grown darker while she was inside.

"Where you going?" said a gruff voice behind her.

She shot outside and ran, cradling her leftovers to her stomach. Pumping her legs as fast as she could, she headed toward the field. There was no way she'd make it past the yellow house before the big, brown dog was let outside.

She waited for something to happen to her. Something colorful and exciting. Little did she know, her life was more colorful than anyone else's.