Going Down Swinging Part 12

"Um, yeah."

"What did you have?"

"Um, no, I mean, I'm not hungry. There's chocolate cake. Made from-would you like some Scratch Cake?"

"No thanks. Grace, your mummy's not doing too good. She might need to go to the hospital. Do you have any relatives you could stay with for a few days?"

"Um, no, I should stay here-she's just got the flu, y'know. Doreen doesn't know anything. She's not really that, um-there's just aspirin there and that's all she took. She's fine, though. We're fine. Everything's OK, y'know." They both nodded and smiled and patted my cat.

Hoffman, Anne Eilleen 28.10.74 (T. Baker) Police investigated Mrs. Hoffman's apartment after complaint re neglect. Mrs. H. in advanced state of intoxication, apartment a shambles, unable to care for child. See police report of this date.

29.10.74 (T. Baker) Visit in evening by social worker and homemaker, Mrs. Anderson. Mrs. Anderson refused to stay but later changed her mind and stayed for two and a half hours, cleaning up the worst parts of the mess. Mrs. Hoffman apparently incoherent for the duration, and accused Mrs. Anderson of being a spy. Social worker returned with police liason worker at 7pm but building was locked. Child involved is Grace Hoffman, age 8, who attends Wolfe Elementary. She is apparently very protective of her mother.

30.10.74 (T. Baker) Case a.s.signed to me. Visit in morning with Coordinator. Mrs. H. still drinking, apartment a shambles. Mrs. H. at least ambulatory, which was an improvement but she was not terribly coherent. She agreed she needed help as she could not manage things any more. Agreed to work with me towards that end.

Back at the office in discussion with Coordinator, to see hwat could be done to help Mrs. H. back on her feetperhaps homemaker could go in to clean up mess, perhaps Mrs. H. could go into detoxification center for a while. Decided to try this rather than apprehend child immediately.

31.10.74 (T. Baker) Call to Homecarethey agreed that they could go in to clean mess up, although only once Mrs. H. was out of home. Mrs. Anderson refused to go back with what I thought was good reason. I went out and saw Mrs. Pong (Landlady) who told me that she'd been receiving complaints for quite some time regarding Mrs. H.'s drinking and carrying on. This was confirmed by downstairs neighbor Sheryl Sugarman and Mrs. Voigt, another neighbor. Apparently this latest binge has lasted abut 3 weeks, and Mrs. H. has been on previous binges in the last few months. The neighbors regretted not having called us earlier. Mrs. Pong had an eviction notice for Mrs. H. and asked me to go with her as she was afraid that Mrs. H. might get violent. Mrs. H. did become abusive and threatening (she is almost twice as big as Mrs. Pong) but I managed to calm the situation. Mrs. H. and I had a long talk. Her preoccupation is with herself, her problems etc. She agreed that she needs to go into a program she had been in AA and had managed well until this summer when she began popping pills again then drinking. Grace came home from school this afternoon and soon left to go to "Alice's"a friend of her mother's at 4788 Quebec as tonight was Halloween and she was going out with Alice's children. Grace seemed very protective of her mother. After Grace left, Mrs. H. expressed various complaints about doctors and relatives and said she was afraid of the withdrawal a.s.sociated with stopping her drinking. She continued to sip at it her beer during the entire interview.

Sheryl Sugarman has agreed to look in on Grace over the weekend.

1.11.74 Spoke with L.B. Henighan, who has been Mrs. H's physician for some time. He does not really want to get involved, as he has worked quite hard with Mrs. H. but can see no motivation on her part to change her ways. He said she was hypoglycemic, which results from liver damage (alcoholism) and causes low blood sugar, anxiety/depression, tremors, etc. He has put Mrs. H. on medication to control this but she usually goes back to drinking. He suggested my getting her to VGH and getting in touch with a relative. (We have no addresses, however) Late afternoon Mrs. H. called to say she is willing to go into a program.

2.11.74 Called all detoxification centres on file including Dr. Amy Nielson of Metropolitan Health and Dr. Henighan again. All agencies simply referred me to other resources or each other. Mrs. H. cannot get into a treatment program until she is detoxed and there is no centre for women alcoholics. Dr. Henighan still does not feel he should get involved.

Mrs. H. seen. After long talk, she agreed to sign non-ward consents, as Grace would need a place to stay if she were entering treatment program. Still drinking, apartment still a mess but she was more lucid than on Friday. Grace was there and understood situation.

After leaving Hoffmans, I interviewed Sheryl Sugarman and son, Josh. They told me that about 2 weeks ago, Mrs. H. came up to their apartment with a knife, quite drunk and insisting that there was a man in her apartment who wanted to "get" her. She was satisfied only after Mrs. S's brother, who was visiting at the time, took her through the apartment. Mrs. H also bangs on the Sugarmans' door at all hours and does the same to other tenants. Was also seen by Mrs. Pong threatening children out front of the building with broom handle. She also prost.i.tutes quite a bit brings variety of strange men home. Mrs. Sugarman said she brought in four different men on Sat.u.r.day night, said this was common, this was how Mrs. H. got extra money. She expressed great concern for Grace in this respect as her mother was constantly drunk and not very selective about the type of men brought in. Also she said that Mrs. H's s.e.x was quite loud, and would be obvious to Grace in a one-room apartment. She said there was at least one occasion where Mrs. H. has come home at 4:00 am and that her coming home late was not unusual. (Mrs. Sugarman must open the door for Mrs. H. who forgets her keys). They said that Mrs. H. has collapsed in the hallway as a result of drinking and pills.

Mrs. Sugarman mentioned that she had taken Grace in quite often, stating that Mrs. H. had a very poor idea of nutrition and that her housekeeping is very poor even when she was sober. Mrs. Sugarman had helped Grace with her homework last school year, when Grace received mostly A's (despite the fact that she was in three different schools) but that Grace was (understandably) doing very poorly this year. It seems Grace has trouble with the simplest math problems. She also has noticed nervous reactions in Grace (twitches, sudden uncoordinated movements) that had not existed before. She believes that Grace may be suffering from hypoglycemia as well as stress-related reactions to poor nutrition and Mrs. H's lifestyle. She described Grace as being "sh.e.l.l-shocked") 3.11.74 (T. Baker) Vancouver General is the only resource for drying Mrs. H. out, but Dr. Henighan is doutful that she would be admitted. Foster home arrangements being set up for Grace. VGH said they would do nothing about getting Mrs. H. admitted but referred me to Downtown Care Team who were sympathetic but could do nothing until Mrs. H. was admitted to VGH.

Saw Mrs. H. again: she complained of internal pain, sleepiness, dehydration, muscle stiffness. Agreed to enter a program and agreed that Grace would have to go into foster care. Agreed to sign into VGH. Drinking somewhat less, mentioned that she felt suicidal but that Grace kept her going.

Sheryl Sugarman seen: offered to take Grace in for a few days but this is impossible with Mrs. H. still in building. She said that Mrs. H. had come in after 4 am yesterday. Grace was apparently alone until then.

Mrs. H. is not making any effort to stop drinking. Grace will have to get out of this environment soon. NOte that Mrs. H. has told me that she will leave the city with Grace if I try to apprehend.

Grace Nine.

NOVEMBER 1974.

MRS. GERBERT, the PE teacher, went off to the side of the gym when a man came through the doors and nodded at her. In a few seconds my name got called and I dropped my hula hoop, glad not to have to keep doing that thing with my hips. When I got close to Gerbert and the guy, I realized it was Todd Baker, the social worker who'd been over at our place lately. He was OK; I only talked to him enough to know he thought Mum should go in the hospital for a while to dry out and I should stay with some foster family even though Sheryl Sugarman, Josh's mum, said I could stay with them for a bit, but Todd wasn't that crazy about the idea so it made me not that crazy about him. Mum didn't like him period; she said he was a draft dodger. Cuz he was American and around his late twenties. Draft dodger started sounding like weasel.

He wanted to talk to me in the hall a minute and chewed on his thumb-skin when we were going out the door. "So listen, uh, I-there are some people I'd like you to meet this afternoon. The lady's name is Mrs. Hood and she has two girls around your age. I think you'll like them." He said it like they were pals of his and it took me a few seconds to figure out they were foster people.

"When? you mean, like, to go now?" I was nervous. About things like, He could grab you; Never leave the school grounds with a stranger; Never get in a car; If your father comes around, don't go near him.

"Yeah. Well, right, after you get changed. I spoke with your princ.i.p.al and it's fine for you to miss music cla.s.s under these circ.u.mstances." He smiled. I didn't get how a person could smile like that after they said "under these circ.u.mstances."

On the ride over, Todd Baker made small talk, the usual: do you have any pets? how many sisters do you have? what is her name? So I started telling him about how Charlie had a baby and how she just moved down to Portland last week with her boyfriend to sell sportswear and that as soon as she had an address and got settled and stuff I'd be visiting her all the time. Then he asked how old she was. I told him eighteen. Then he goes, "Oh, so you were kind of an afterthought." As if I didn't count so much or something.

"No. If you mean like an accident, I wasn't. My mum wanted me, she wanted to have me. My sister has a different father and when my mum met my dad, they wanted a child together, that's all. She didn't have to have me if she didn't want to."

"So your sister is actually a half-sister, then."

"No. She's my sister, my real sister. She just has a different father than I do."

"Well, isn't that what a half-sister is?"

"No. She isn't. We both have the same mother, we both came out of her womb, so we're whole sisters. It's-that only counts if you have different mothers and you live with them and don't even see each other, and just have the same father but weren't all in the same womb. And we were. She's not a half-sister."

He said, "Oh," and dropped it, but it was bugging me the way he was trying to make me feel like we weren't really related, make us be less of a family so this wouldn't seem such a big deal. I was going to have to make sure he knew that I knew what was what.

It was a real house, not an apartment. And the street had tons of trees, orange and red leaves all over the place. It looked like a neighbourhood; no gas station on the corner and the houses were made of wood and brick, no stucco. A fat grey Persian lay in the window, still as a rock, and I half wondered if it was stuffed. Todd stuck his thumb in the buzzer and the door swung open hardly a second after.

She looked like a mum: her hair was blue-black, slicked back in a bun, and she had on an ap.r.o.n over her blouse and pants. Her nose had big sideways nostrils and she had fat lips that flattened wide when she smiled and h.e.l.loed. She had little teeth, but there were a lot of them. We took off our shoes at the door and she patted her thighs before she led us in. Wendy and Lilly, her girls, would be home any time now, she said; the school was quite close.

Their kitchen was as big as our living room but bright with white see-through curtains. It reminded me of the kitchen at our house in Toronto, the one with my dad. Todd and I sat at the table and Mrs. Hood made us tea. I explained how my mum liked me to have it half milk. She smiled and said that was a good idea. Todd chuckled and chewed the inside of his cheek, then started asking Mrs. Hood about her girls and their hobbies and stuff; he told her about my baton lessons. And about Explorers. He kept nodding and grinning, making his eyes go wide, and I tried to act like it was interesting. A skinny cat with hardly any tail walked in the room and made it easier.

Mrs. Hood set the teapot on the table. "That's Spike," she said, "he's Lilly's cat-where's your ball, Spike?" Spike charged back to the living room right when the front door opened and slammed, shaking the windows. Mrs. Hood tilted her head toward the front of the house. "h.e.l.lo-o?" and then a h.e.l.lo back from two girls. Then shoes clunking and sock-feet rubbing toward the kitchen.

The two of them came in and stood in the middle of the floor, all half-smiles and bored sort of helios. Wendy and Lilly. Wendy was the bigger one, eleven. Lilly was eight. I'd be nine in two weeks, older than her. Todd said on the way over that Lilly was in grade 3. She looked it. I knew we wouldn't be friends. Lilly looked like what Mum called a sprite: a puny head, too-big black eyes, bee-size mouth and two black braids that hung long over skinny-boned shoulders. She looked tricky. She looked like she bit. Her sister was thicker: thicker lips, thicker hair, a thicker body. Her eyes were slower. Their mum introduced us and said, "Grace might be staying with us for a little while." Wendy nodded.

Lilly's eyes poked over me. "What school do you go to?" I told her. "Do you know a boy called Tom?" I didn't. n.o.body said anything, so Wendy said she was going up to change and Lilly ran upstairs behind her-the steps to their bedrooms were in the kitchen like Sadie and Eddy's place. Todd gave me one of those fake kind of smiles like teachers use the first day of school and I copied it.

When we finished our tea, Todd told Mrs. Hood we had to get going. She stood and wiped her hands on her ap.r.o.n, said it was lovely to meet me and led us to the door, talking about umbrellas. Todd and I clomped down the wet steps; it'd started to rain. Neither of us said anything until we were back in the car.

He turned the ignition. "So? Did you like them?" And the wipers rubbed squeaks and grunts against the window.

"Yeah. They were pretty nice." If they were his friends I didn't want to talk bad about them. And they did seem pretty OK and I'd probably like them better if I knew them. "Mrs. Hood was nice and I liked Spike." I waited. I wanted to meet whoever else he had in mind before I decided.

Todd watched me and rocked his head up and down. "Well, I mean, do you think you might like to stay here while your mom's in the hospital?" He said Mum like Mawm. It sounded fakey or prissy or something.

"Um, here? Well, I guess so. Yeah, sure. What about my cat, because I have to have Henry with me, so I don't know."

"Well, no, you couldn't bring Henry, someone else would have to look after him. It wouldn't be for long, I'm sure we could find someone." He looked so big on the whole thing that I didn't want to be a pain. Mum was always calling me a fuss-budget about stuff so I thought maybe I should just stick it out for a few days. Todd smiled and grabbed the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Good." He stuck one in his mouth. "OK, let's go back to your place and get your things together." He lit one and sucked it like there was milkshake on the other end. "The sooner you're taken care of, the sooner we can start taking care of your mom." The engine shook as he put it in gear and started down the street.

"Yeah but. Um. Well yeah, but does my mum know? I can't just go if my mum doesn't know," and I didn't think she did really. Of course she did, Todd told me, she signed the consent didn't she. Yeah, but. She changed her mind. She told me the night before that she didn't want me going anywhere, she couldn't bear it. Todd just talked about the hospital and her drinking and how much better things would be. I figured he was right; if I left, she wouldn't have any excuse, she'd have to go wherever it was she went when she quit drinking. And in a few days I could come home and the place would be clean and we could pack up and move. I could start a new school and maybe we could live on a street with trees.

When we got home, Henry slithered through my s.h.i.+ns and made his chirpy meows at me. I kneeled and scratched his head, picked him up, and Todd asked if I had a suitcase. I stood still, breathing Henry's fur, and thinking how much worse everything looked when a stranger was in the house, how bad it smelled, how dirty it still was even since the Welfare sent someone over to clean it up. I was a traitor again and I kept my nose in Henry's shoulder. Todd looked fidgety. Neither of us was saying so, but half the game was getting out before she came home. If she caught us, if she caught me leaving with a bag of clothes, she'd go crazy. Henry wiggled away and jumped on the floor. There was probably a suitcase somewhere, but I didn't feel like stealing Mum's to run away from her.

Todd went to the kitchen and came back with a garbage bag. "OK, let's try to grab as much as we can so you can have a few things with you." We picked through my drawers and stuff lying around the bedroom. Todd winced when he picked my clothes off the floor. I didn't look at him again until he brought me back to the Hoods'. Then I didn't want him to leave.

He sat in the living room with Lilly and me while we watched Wendy show off Lilly's cat: she threw a red ball, the kind I used to play jacks, and Spike scrambled down the living room to get it. He pounced and bit and clawed it with his back legs before chomping it up and trotting back to Wendy's feet. He dropped it there and looked up at her. She threw it again and Spike fetched. I looked at Lilly; she sat straight like a spelling-bee kid, all proud of herself. The Persian never moved from the windowsill. She was Wendy's cat-her name was Marble and n.o.body said much else about her. Then Lilly squealed and said, "Show her hockey."

Wendy grabbed the ball and all of us followed her to the bathroom. Lilly was second through the door, said "Gimme," and took it out of Wendy's squishy thick hand. "Com'ere Spike, com'ere boy," and she threw the ball in the bathtub. Spike leaped in and fwapped the ball around the sides, then bounced back to guard the drain, batting it just in time to keep it out of the hole. Todd chuckled over my shoulder and I could hear teeth clicking from biting his nail. The ball boinged off the side of the tub and plopped in the drain. Spike pounced and growled, tore it out of the hole and ripped at it with his back claws, before he chucked it down the tub and went back to playing goalie. Todd nudged me. "Pretty good, eh?"

After he left, the house was strange and p.r.i.c.kly. n.o.body said much. We had hamburgers for dinner at the dinner table, not in front of the TV. And they didn't know how to play switcheroo, so we just watched Happy Days until it was bedtime for Lilly and me. It bugged me going to bed when she did. I was practically nine.

I took the bus to school the next day and daydreamed about Mum, what she did when she came home and found me gone. Todd said he was going over there when he left me. But he couldn't talk to her really, not like me. I wanted to be the one to talk to her, but he told me not to call. None of my friends even knew where I was. n.o.body did. If I never went to school that day they would've thought I disappeared, which I kind of liked-the mystery of it-but then I still didn't have much friends at my new school, so they might not've even noticed. I wondered if Mum was in the hospital or in her bed right now. Probably crying. Maybe she had to cry, though, maybe she had to just cry out everything until she got better.

After school, Mrs. Hood picked me up and took me to get my hair cut. She scowled at me in the mirror while the hairdresser pumped my chair up. She didn't really look as mum-ish as I thought. She told the hairdresser to just try and make me look presentable, told me she was going to go have a coffee and left us staring at the mirror.

The hairdresser picked some hair from the side of my head, sighed, and let it drop before bringing me to a sink. I thought about the way Todd took my clothes up off the floor, like he was picking up snotty Kleenex. She tied a brown plastic bib on me, then wound a towel round my neck and lowered me back against the sink. My neck didn't go down the way she wanted, in the groove thing on the sink. She huffed and pulled me back up, pushed me back down, nudged the chair closer to the sink. She blew air out her nose, left and came back with three towels for me to sit on. When she finally had my head where she wanted, she soaped it up and then kinda stared around my ears and said, "When's the last time your hair was washed?" She sounded like her face when she first touched my head.

I didn't know. I said, "Probably day before yesterday." She hmmed and scrubbed harder. I shut my mouth and kept it shut till she finished the haircut. My eyes hurt from not crying and I imagined horrible things my mother would do to her for this.

Next morning was the doctor's appointment. We sat in the waiting room for around half an hour, Mrs. Hood flipping through magazines, her lips squis.h.i.+ng up under her nose at stuff she was reading. I watched the gla.s.s door we came in through to see my reflection; see, if I looked quick and pretended not to know me, if my hair really looked like Keith Partridge. The receptionist called "Hoffman" and I went frozen. Mrs. Hood nudged me. I went to the counter; the receptionist smiled. "Hi there, how are you today? Here, maybe you can just go to the bathroom and bring me back a sample." I took the cup and the key and went down the hall. I figured she meant pee but I wasn't sure exactly, and if she meant pee, how much did she want? And how was I supposed to hide a cup of it coming back?

Then the key didn't fit the lock. I tried it upside down. Didn't fit. I went back to the receptionist, trying not to touch my hair again and draw attention. I asked her if it was the key to the girls' room.

"No sir!" She said it loud and smiled big like she was in a talent show or something. "That's for the boys'."

I put the key on the counter. "I'm not a boy."

Her face kept still a second till it went, "Ah-oh! I'm-" and she made tisky noises and shook her head and grabbed at my file. "Grr ... ace-of course you're not. Did I give you the boys' key? Here you go. Miss." Her smile was smaller.

I brought back the cup mostly full and a nurse took me in a room and asked me to take off everything except my underpants, said she'd be right back. She didn't leave me anything to put on. Mum's doctor always gave me a paper poncho. I took off my clothes and sat scrunched on the table with my hands between my knees, feeling the room breathe on me until she came back. She was pretty with a hoppy ponytail. She wrapped the black band thing around my arm, pumped it tight and asked about what I did that day, if I had a bowel movement. Figured it probably meant pee again, so I just said yes. She asked me what it was like, I told her regular. When the black band thing was loose again, she took it off my arm and asked about the colour; I said that was regular too. She asked me about sleeping, eating, aches and pains; anything I had to tell about, I called it regular. She seemed to think that was pretty funny and I liked her for it. I liked hearing someone laugh again and have it be cuz of me. When we finished she told me to sit tight, she'd be right back.

Kind of a while went by, and I was sitting there thinking how I was glad I ate lots of bacon and eggs and toast for breakfast and had good blood sugar cuz, G.o.d, it would've been c.r.a.ppy to hear the English Lady arguing or else whispers and stuff and be naked on top of it. I started thinking how Sheryl Sugarman was maybe right and smart and then I figured maybe I was supposed to get dressed and I was about to jump down, my chest all light again, when the nurse opened the door and came in with a little Chinese man. He was in a white coat and his face hardly moved. "Grace, OK, this is Doctor Lee, he's going to examine you today," and she left.

I folded my arms. It was cold. He told me to lie on my back in not-that-great English and started looking over my whole skin and everything, pressing and knocking, asking if it hurt-breathe in, breathe out. Then he looked down my underpants. I was going to cry and I crunched my teeth together. He asked me to turn over on my stomach and asked where every one of the marks on my back came from. I fell and tripped so much, I couldn't remember how I got any, except for the big scar on my backbone that I had from sliding down the porch steps when Eddy chased me and Sadie. I said I fell, and Dr. Lee's face kept still and he sounded like he thought I was lying. He wanted me to explain better, but I didn't want to tell how Eddy was running after us with the s.h.i.+tbag, a paper bag of poo he said he found. I started making stuff up. Dr. Lee didn't look at my eyes; it was like I didn't have any.

I looked away and clenched some more and changed my mind: I wasn't going to cry, and I looked at the wall to think about something else. I saw his framed doctor certificate up there and two things cut out of the newspaper. I kept staring at the newspaper pictures until I figured out he was in both. One headline said "Child Abuse," and "Lee Heads C.P.A. Crackdown" was on the other; one picture showed just his face and one showed him at a table with some other people. He was some kind of famous doctor-guy. He wasn't just Dr. Lee, he was the Dr. Lee, Bad Mother Hunter. In my imagination I sat up and yelled, "She hits me." He wouldn't smile exactly, but he'd be glad or proud or something. I never said anything in real life though, so he pulled up the elastic on the back of my underpants and looked in at my b.u.m. No one ever saw me without a paper poncho on and never without my mum in the room.

I closed my eyes. He was in on it too. They all wanted to trick me into saying something bad about her. She warned me. She said it only took two doctors' signatures and they could put her away. I kept my mouth as shut as I could; just yes and no. I wasn't going to help him up on any more walls.

The next morning we sat over breakfast. I was taking more time off school again because Mrs. Hood said I had to get new clothes because Todd dropped off clothes vouchers and it would be best if we got it over with today, especially if I was going to be switching schools. Lilly was crabbed. "How come I never get to take school off to go shopping-you're the one who said I need new shoes, but you take her instead."

Mrs. Hood brought a heavy black pan to the table, took her flipper and slapped one pancake on each of our plates. I was only half listening and couldn't figure out what she meant about switching schools. She told Lilly to stop being such a busybody. "You're in nowhere near the situation that Grace is in." Lilly kept arguing about the holes in her shoes and "you always do that" and "what about me."

When it was quiet a second I said, "Well, I don't think it'll be a big deal for me to miss a couple days of school and I'm fine taking the bus cuz it'll only be a few more days till my mum's better anyhow and I can catch up on my normal school then. We're probably moving anyway. We got evicted."

Lilly stopped chewing to stare at me. Wendy snorted and started coughing on her pancake. Lilly giggled, drank some juice and slapped her on the back. Wendy swallowed and said, "What's it like to be evicted?" Mrs. Hood yelled Wendy's name at her and Wendy kept going. "And who said anything about a few days, anyhow? You're here for way longer than that, kid, you're here till February. Three months." She threw in that last part like it was normal. Three months is three months.

"At least," Lilly said with chewed-up pancake practically falling out.

I tried to keep my voice normal. George told me one time about dogs and horses and how they could smell your fear. I could taste mine. I put my fork down. "No I won't. My mum'll be all right sooner than that. It's just for a bit." I picked my fork up again and everyone was staring at my hands and smelling their fear of forks, wondering what kind of idiot-kid has hands that can't use a fork properly. I didn't want pancakes anyway-Mum would've never let me eat white flour and syrup for breakfast. I'd get sick if I stayed here. I'd catch malnourishment. Adelle Davis's cookbook said children who aren't fed properly get misshaped b.u.ms and weird soft bones. My mum'd be mad if she saw me eating this way.

"No," Mrs. Hood said, "Wendy's right, you'll be here three months-until February."

I had a stomach ache. Todd Baker would have said something, he wouldn't have lied. I was getting dizzy cuz my bones were going soft probably and my blood was getting evaporated; there wasn't going to be enough left to hold me up that much longer. Mum always said I didn't have to do anything I didn't want. I wanted her so much. But she was probably in a hospital somewhere and I couldn't call her in front of them anyway. Wendy and Lilly glinted under the kitchen light, watching each other, cutting up their pancakes piece by piece. The air in my chest went thick.

"Will Grace be coming with us to Kingdom Hall?" Lilly asked.

Mrs. Hood put a bunch of pancakes on a plate and put them on the table. I whispered, "No thank you," and looked at Mrs. Hood to find out what Kingdom Hall was. It sounded fun, in a way, like there'd be a Ferris wheel and fairy princesses and stuff.

She said, "I don't know. We'll see if she'd like to. Have you been to a Kingdom Hall before, Grace?"

I shook my head.

"We're Jehovah's Witnesses," Lilly yapped. Loud, the same way she said "At least." I'd heard that name before and asked her what it meant. "It means we spread the message that Armageddon is coming soon and the lion will lie down with the lamb and birds will fly to your finger and me and Wendy are getting tigers after Armageddon!"

"No I'm not, 'member I told you I want to have a bear."

"Why do you wanna bear? They're all dumb and slow. What would you get, Grace? Except for you're not a Witness, so you won't be here when G.o.d puts Satan in chains. All the people who don't believe won't be, um, brought to life again after Judgment Day, like out of the ground, they just die and they don't get to be here when Jesus is building paradise and they just stay in death and get eaten by worms cuz, um ... but after the great battle, the ones of us that's-believe will be saved or they'll be, mm-resurrected if they already died, but the ones who don't will be killed when G.o.d gives Jesus the keys to rule the new earth. Only we get to live forever with Jehovah cuz we served him." She smiled like a pumpkin at me, threw a braid back over her shoulder and poured more syrup.

I looked at their mum. She was leaning back in her chair, sipping from her teacup. I looked back at Lilly, sick of her. "You can't have a tiger for a pet."

"Yes You Can!"

"Calm down, Lilly. If Grace wants to come to the next meeting, she can learn what it's all about then. You should go get ready for school anyway, and Grace and I have to get ready ourselves."

"Yeah Lilly," Wendy told her and whispered, "Little spaz," before she drank a whole bunch of orange juice to wash her pancake down.

"Shut up, Wendy, you're the spaz! I was just telling her! Cuz we're s'posed to! We're s'posed to witness, y'stupid!"

"OK, that's enough-get ready for school." Mrs. Hood stood and reached for Lilly's plate. "Grace, is that all you're eating?" I nodded.

Wendy let her eyelids droop at me as she came out from behind the table. "Won't get away with that for long," and she went upstairs; Lilly giggled and skipped behind.

Hoffman, Anne Eilleen 4.11.74 (T. Baker) Morning visit to Mr. Thompson, princ.i.p.al at Wolfe Elementary. I had called previously to briefly explain Gracees home situation, her non-ward status, and pending foster placement.

Two visits to Mrs. H. during the day not home. Sheryl Sugarman did not know where she was.

Visit to Wolfe Elementary in afternoon. Grace seen and new foster home placement explained to her. This would be Mrs. J. Hood, 545 West 19th Avenue (8765374). Grace and I had quite a long talk then went off to Mrs. Hood's. Mrs. Hood struck me as a very warm, caring person, the house was very tidy, and she and Grace got along very well. We returned to Mrs. H's apartment and on the way, Grace was very cheerful she liked Mrs. Hood very much, liked the idea of having her own room. Mrs. H. not home when we arrived we gathered up the basics that Grace needed from among the clothing and junk strewn in tangles on the floor. Many things were too filthy to take along, or simply could not be found.

When we returned to Mrs. Hood's, Lilly (8 years, 3rd Grade) and Wendy (11 years, 6th grade) were there, Mrs. Hood's own children. I stayed for some time, talked a great deal to both Grace and Mrs. Hood and even played a game of "hockey" with the girls and one of their cats. Grace got along well right away with Lilly and Wendy, and seemed well settled by the time I left.

I returned to Mrs. H's apartment and found her on the floor at the bottom of the stairs leading to her apartment. She was very drunk and had fallen down the stairs. I had to help her up to the apartment as she could not make it on her own. She explained that she had spent the day in a hotel on Hastings Street. Mrs. H. was wearing a very short-length, bright yellow, sleeveless dress which mainly served to show off a variety of bruises on her arms, shoulders, and legs. Her face was also slightly ruised and she could not remember how she got the bruises. I had Wanted to take her to V.G.H. that afternoon but could not see how that could be done without carrying her. I explained that I had taken Grace to the foster home and said I could not give her the address or phone number now. I spoke with her for an hour, without making any progress, then left asking her to get some sleep.

5.11.74 (T. Baker) Sheryl Sugarman called to say that Mrs. H. had called the police last night (after hours of wandering the halls of the building calling "Grace") to report her daughter missing. Luckily the police saw Mrs. Sugarman first, who briefly explained the situation. Call to Mrs. Hood everything all right. Arrangements for initial clothing grant made. Mrs. Hood was warned that Mrs. H. may cause trouble at Wolfe, in which case Grace would have to switch schools, to Edith Cavell.

Spoke to Mr. Pretty informed of situation, and that Mr. Thompson, princ.i.p.al of Wolfe would call if there is any trouble. Mr. Pretty made some calls and was told that Mrs. H. has a record for soliciting, spent some time in Kingston Penitentiary. He thinks this problem could be solved if a complaint were made, police could arrest her and then detox her. He promised to call Downtown Care Team. I tried to call our Health Care Team-no one available for a referral.

Later inday, received a call from the Downtown Care Team, who said they would be going out with their G.P., Dr. Klaus. Dr. Klaus later called saying he and Dr. Pantern (Now Mrs. H's psychiatrist) agreed to put Mrs. H. in V.G. H. and to commit her if necessary.

At 5 p.m., I received a call from Alice Collingwood (4788 Quebec) who had Mrs. H. with her and was about to take her down to VGH immediately. I said I would take her instead. Mrs. H. was very unsteady but we made it to emergency but were refused admittance for Mrs. H. Only after a two hour wait, when Dr. Klaus showed up, was Mrs. H. admitted.

Eilleen Eight.