Niagara Motel by Ashley Little Page A

I’d lean up against a building and watch people walk by. I used to imagine that I’d see Sam coming toward me and I’d wait for him to recognize me, his own flesh and blood. But then, it wouldn’t be him, it would just be some regular schmo, and then I’d wait for the next man who looked like my father to walk toward me.
    I bugged Gina about it for the zillionth time. We lay on her bed watching Wheel of Fortune . One of the contestants was a tall man with light brown hair.
    â€œIs that what my father looks like?”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThat guy in the middle. Gary.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhat does he look like?”
    â€œI don’t know. I haven’t seen him since before you were born.”
    â€œWell, what did he look like then?”
    â€œTucker,” she rubbed my head. “I’m trying to watch, okay?”
    Gary spun the wheel and it landed on BANKRUPT . The crowd ooohed as he pouted.
    â€œI just want to know what he looked like! You could at least tell me that . Do I even look like him?”
    â€œNo,” she said. “You’re fair. He was dark.”
    â€œWhat else?”
    â€œTucker, he’s out of the picture, all right? Just don’t worry about him.”
    â€œHow can I not worry about him?”
    â€œYou don’t really need a father, you know,” she whispered. Vanna turned a letter, grinning like a maniac.
    â€œAll the other kids have one.”
    â€œIf all the other kids had scurvy would you want that, too?”
    â€œI don’t know. What is it?”
    â€œScurvy?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œScurvy is when you don’t eat enough fruits and vegetables and your skin turns yellow and your teeth fall out and eventually you die.”
    â€œThat can happen?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œYeah, right. You’re just telling me that so I’ll eat my vegetables. And besides, it’s different. It’s not the same thing. It’s apples and oranges.”
    Gina laughed. “It’s the truth,” she said. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
    â€œI have to get going.” I climbed off the bed and started to look for my shoes.
    â€œAw, really? You just got here. Can’t you stay a little longer?”
    â€œNo, I have homework.”
    â€œOh, okay,” she said. She smiled. “I’m glad you’re doing yourhomework.”
    I shrugged.
    â€œWhat’s it in?”
    â€œMath,” I said. “Long division.”
    She nodded.
    â€œIt’s pretty easy.”
    â€œOkay. Good. Well, you go do it then.”
    I put on my shoes. “See ya later, Gina.”

    I started going to Meredith’s corner every day at lunchtime to see if she wanted to eat with me. Sometimes she wasn’t there, so I’d sit and wait or walk around the block a few times until she came back. She always came back. She never told me to get lost again, but we always left her spot in front of the cigar shop straight away. This was how Meredith and I started having lunch together every day. We were a strange match as far as friends go, but magnets don’t need to understand how magnetism works; they just repel each other or stick together.
    Meredith didn’t talk to me too much when we were at the group home, but she wasn’t mean to me either. When she was there, she mostly just read and watched TV and so did I. For lunch we’d go to Burger King or KFC or McDonald’s or the hot dog stand. Sometimes she’d buy lunch for both of us and sometimes she wouldn’t. It depended on what kind of morning she’d had and how flush she was. Once, I offered to buy her lunch and she said, “Your money’s no good here, sir,” and slid the five bucks back in my pocket.
    Meredith told me that she was trying to raise money to pay her brother’s bail. Her brother’s name was Steve and he was twenty-one. Steve was in the Don Jail in Toronto for selling