The Girl Who Owned a City (6 page)

“In other words, Charlie, use your head. Just think, and you can take good care of your family.” She was finished.

Julie had not spoken. She had been listening in amazement to Lisa talk like some grown-up. How could Lisa have changed so fast?

“Charlie, there's a bag of food downstairs by the door,” Lisa said, not looking at him. “I brought it because Julie is my friend.” Then she left.

At the Coles' house, on the other side of her own, Lisa found a similar situation. Cheryl was 11; her brother Steve was 12. The rest of the family was dead. Now Cheryl and Steve were running out of food and, in desperation, Steve was also planning to join the Chidester Gang. Lisa urged him to wait until after the meeting but spared him the lecture she had given Charlie.

Craig Bergman was the oldest kid on the block. At 12, he was just young enough to miss the sickness. He and his six-year-old sister, Erika, lived in the corner house, at Chidester and Grand. They had a good supply of food and were doing a little better than the other children. Craig knew a lot about gardening, and he told Lisa of his plans for the spring. Until then, he admitted, they would have a hard time.

Jill Jansen's house had at least eight orphaned children in addition to her younger sisters, Katy and Missy. Most of the children were under five. Jill was 11.

Before leaving the Jansens' house, Lisa made the same request she had made of the others. “Please think about some kind of neighborhood defense. We have to find a way to protect ourselves from the gangs. Bring some ideas, and be sure to have everyone in your house come along.”

That night the candle was out, but the wax was still warm, when Todd asked for his story. It was too late—the storyteller had fallen asleep.

CHAPTER FIVE

T

he days before Friday were filled with hurried activity. From daylight to dusk, Lisa and Todd struggled to get more food and to keep it safe. There was never enough time.

The short winter days were cloudy, gray, and depressing. Lisa was sure that everything would get easier as the days got longer. The thought of spring warmed her inside.

Despite her problems, Lisa never got tired of “figuring things out.” With each new crisis, a solution seemed easier than before. She liked the new feeling of confidence, even though it surprised her.

Lisa's thoughts were focused on the meeting. What could they accomplish? Would the kids on the block agree to a militia? She had visions of earlier days, when she had formed clubs with her friends. They were really a joke compared to this. She had to plan for this meeting and make it worthwhile.

Lisa decided to cancel her supply trips for that day and study for the meeting. She pulled out a notebook from her social studies class. There were doodles all over the cover and a lot of drawings on the inside. But there were notes inside the book, too. Perhaps there was an idea in there.

After putting the notebook away, she began planning a kind of “government” for Grand Avenue. She would make it independent, like those presidents had done for the United States centuries ago.

She thought about the Pilgrims at Plymouth Rock, who had faced the same problems she was facing. They had worked long days hunting and building their farms so they would have food. They had no interactive TV, no racks of compact discs and CD-ROMs, no video games, electricity, microwaves, or grocery stores. They had to fight Indians and somehow survive months of winter with little food. It all seemed a lot worse than dealing with the childish threats of Tom Logan and his gang.

Comparing her life to that of the Pilgrims made Lisa feel better. “What am I complaining about?” she thought. “At least I have a house, and canned food, and all of the things that the adults left us.”

But she was getting ahead of herself. First, she and the other children had to solve the problem of survival. They needed to plan for food and for their own defense. They needed a militia, as the colonists had called it. A militia would be the first order of business.

She also had to get everybody planning for spring gardening. She would share her ideas about the farms and the warehouses. But they must promise her a militia first. If they could join together for defense, they would be able to plan beyond food for the next day.

But what if they wouldn't agree to a militia? What if they couldn't see how important it was? What if they were so worried about food that they promised to start a militia and then didn't go through with it? Well, she had to take that chance.

Then she had an idea—a strategy for the meeting. She would bargain, make an offer. In the end there would be a neighborhood militia to protect “individual rights” on Grand Avenue—though she didn't fully understand, yet, why individual rights were so important.

She pondered it and rehearsed it as the kernels hissed and popped in the fire. When the last batch of popcorn was made, Lisa was ready for the meeting.

Todd was carrying a giant bowl of popcorn and a pitcher of juice. Lisa brought the paper cups and a large canvas bag tied at the top. They saw children leaving their houses and gathering in the street.

From the beginning, Lisa knew that this would be different from the old club meetings. There would be no laughing or giggling. They were just as serious as the Pilgrims must have been. These children seemed to know already that their lives were at stake.

A restless, eager line formed for a share of popcorn. Julie and Charlie were there. The Coles had shown up, and so had Craig Bergman. When the food and juice were gone, Lisa sensed that her audience was ready.She began.

“Yesterday Todd was beaten up, and we were robbed by the Chidester Gang. Tonight you too may be beaten up and robbed.

“I called this meeting because I think we need to figure out a plan to protect ourselves.” She paused to let the message sink in, and then she continued. “I think we need to have a volunteer army to protect our freedom. The Pilgrims called it a militia. If we each have a signal, like a dinner bell, to warn us that someone is being attacked, then we can all join together and scare off the gang. One person could stay in each house to guard it, but all the others would come to help the family being attacked. Every house would have a different alarm so we would know where to go.

“For our house, Todd can blow a blast on his trumpet. You could each figure out a loud signal of your own. One person could volunteer to be in charge of organizing the weapons and making defense plans. Probably an older boy, like Steve Cole, could work out the details and be our general.

“That's my suggestion. Do you have any comments?”

The children could hardly recognize the new Lisa. She still
looked
the same, with her straight blond hair and deep-set eyes. But there was something different in her voice, something strong and confident. They wondered about it. For a while, everyone was silent.

Then Craig said, “I think you're excited over nothing, Lisa. Has anyone else been bothered by the gangs?”

No answer.

Lisa wanted to reply, but she thought, No, let them argue it out a while. Then it will be my turn again.

Charlie said, “I think we should form a gang of our own. None of us has food, and there won't be any unless we steal it. We're dumb not to make a strong gang ourselves. If we wait, the other gangs will have control and we'll have nothing. Then they'll have us in their power. We'll starve if we just wait around. I say we start attacking on our own.”

Lisa wanted to say something about that, but she forced herself to keep quiet.

“I think Lisa's right,” said Julie.

Ah, Julie, thought Lisa.
Now
I forgive you.

Steve Cole had been nodding his agreement with Charlie, and now he spoke. “The fact is, we don't have
any
food. As Charlie says, there isn't any except the food that belongs to the rich kids. Their parents had pantries filled with canned things that they'd never eat. Yesterday I saw Janet Lester swimming in her pool. I'll bet she's got all kinds of extra food. Why not get it before the Chidester Gang does? It's not fair. Why should they have all that food, while we have none?”

Lisa thought, Well, there are two generals we can't trust—Steve and Charlie. But she still kept silent. She waited for Jill to speak. She respected Jill.

But Craig spoke instead.

“I've been thinking that we should grow food. We can do it now; we don't have to wait till spring. I'm making a solarium. It's like a greenhouse, and we can raise vegetables in it, even in winter. We can live on vegetables. I know, because my dad told me about vegetarians. We can raise enough to get by.”

Now we're getting somewhere, Lisa thought. She urged him on silently.

But then Jill spoke. “So what if you raise food? Are you going to share it with us? If your crop is bad, who gets what little there is left?”

“We do, Erika and I. But why can't you do the same? I don't mind teaching you how. With all those kids, you'd have plenty of gardeners.”

Someone else said that they should try to make friends with the Chidester Gang. Another kid thought it would be a good idea to hire Tom Logan's gang. “We can give them food from your secret supply places, Lisa, and they can protect us. Why should we go to all the trouble of making our own militia?”

Lisa just had to speak now. “
We
can use
my
supply?
My
secret supply? No thanks,
I
will decide what's done with
my
supplies! You don't mind, do you?” She was mad again. It was time for her strategy.

“You're all worried about food. You say there isn't any, so you want to start a gang of thieves. But there are lots of other things you're going to need besides food. How about aspirin? Band-Aids? Soap? Matches? Flashlights? Charcoal? Toilet paper? Bactine? Vitamins? Seeds for your solarium? Where are you going to steal these things when all the supplies are used up? What good will stealing do, then or now?”

Lisa reached into her bag and pulled out a sample of almost every item she had named. Then she pulled out a Coke. “Who wants one of these?” And a handful of candy bars. “Who wants these?” Then she threw 10 packets of vegetable seeds on the ground—carrots, corn, pumpkins, beans, and some others.

She had shown enough. Their eyes widened as they stared at the treasures scattered at her feet.

“I know,” she continued, “where to get hundreds of each of these items. My house is filling up with them. It's not because I'm lucky or because I'm some kind of special person. And it's not because I'm stealing. It's because I decided to use my head instead of crying or praying or forming a gang!”

She wasn't finished yet. “But I'm not sharing a thing, not a single thing. You can attack me if you want, but I'll burn it all before I let any thieves have it.”

Her plan hadn't included getting angry, so Lisa relaxed her voice. It took a moment. “Craig is right. Soon we can survive by learning how to grow things. Until then, my sources will keep us alive. But I won't share anything until we all agree on a militia.

“For Craig's garden to grow or my ideas to work, we have to have protection against the gangs. When they run out of things to steal, they'll come after us. Someday, if we're smart, we'll be growing food and making things, and we'll learn how to survive forever without taking from anyone. But now we need a militia. It will give us time to use our heads and a chance to protect what we have. I'll share what I know with those who will support the militia.”

She was finished. It seemed that her strategy was working. No one had any criticism.

“Any more discussion?” Lisa asked, hoping that there would be none.

“Then,” she added, “I call for a vote. All those who promise to support the militia, stay here and we'll start to make plans. Those who refuse, go back to your homes.”

Nobody moved. So it was agreed.

“Craig can be the commander of the militia,” Lisa said. “Let's meet here again tomorrow at four, and Craig will present his plan for our defense. I'll help you, Craig. I have some ideas. Anyone else who has suggestions, please give them to Craig before the meeting. Also, will each house decide on an alarm and tell us what it is tomorrow?”

That was the end of the meeting. One of the children asked Lisa if there would be popcorn tomorrow. She smiled and said that there would be.

The Grand Avenue Militia was formed.

Lisa's mind was alive with ideas that night. Somewhere in the middle of her thoughts, Todd interrupted. “What does strategy mean, Lisa?”

She was too tired to be sure, but she answered. “Strategy is a plan for action that you think will work. If it does, it's a plan that is logical.”

The word logical helped make it clear to him, and he asked, “What was your plan at the meeting?”

She explained that she had brought the popcorn to gain the children's confidence. Then she had let them run out of words before making her deal—food in exchange for a militia. Finally, to convince them that she wasn't just talking, she had shown what was in the bag as proof.