Goldilocks?!


Goldilocks was the nickname we gave a runaway teen we found in the woods of a neighborhood park. We soon found out that she was wanted by the police, but not wanted at home.

Where did she hope to go? What did she want to do? Who could we get to help her?

Where did she want to go? "New York or Atlantic City" was her answer.

What did she want to do? "Work."

Who could or would help her? "No one."

Well, Goldilocks we have a few problems. First why are the police looking for you? "I have been running away for years."

Why? "Cause I just can't stand it there."

Oh! Do you think the streets of New York or the streets of Atlantic City are going to be better than whatever situation you have at home? "I'm not going home!" She said.

OK then, I'll take you where ever you want to go in New Jersey. I cannot take my unmarked police car out of the state, so it will have to be somewhere in this state. She agreed, but wanted to take two friends with her. Again I agreed to take them.

I know you probably think I am crazy, not taking them in myself, like I had done hundreds of times before. But, this time I thought it was more a temper tantrum than a real run away situation.

So I decided on a plan. I would take them to Atlantic City where they wanted to go. I would drive them through the worst neighborhoods, and then take them down to the marina area.

They were kind of quiet on the ride down. It took about an hour and a half, down and around the areas I wanted to show them. Then I stopped at the marina area and told them to get out.

It was dark, and all you could hear was the clanking of bells on the boats and the screeches of the seagulls.

I told them they could board a boat real easy. This would give them a place to sleep protected from the weather. They could sleep under the canvas covers of the boats. They said, "It's dark and smelly!"

I said that this was the best I could do on such short notice, and besides the township police department wouldn't look here for them. Of course the Atlantic City police could arrest them for trespassing on someone else's boat.

Mumbling and complaining they said "We're hungry!" I told them that the diner at the marina would be open in the morning. They insisted they were hungry NOW!

So, do you think runaways always have a choice of where they stay and when they eat? They just looked at each other. One started to cry.

I asked if it was really so bad at home that they just couldn't stand it?

"No, not really" was their answer.

"But I'm not going back" said one. "Fine with me!" I said

"Why can't we go to one of the hotels?" They all nodded, yeah, that's where we should go.

Do you have any money? "No" "Not to stay in a hotel"

"Well," I said..."Did Donald Trump ask you to stay at one of the hotels?" "Who is Donald Trump?” they asked.

I just laughed and said, “You are such babies...You don't know who ‘The Donald’ is...You are afraid of the dark, and the sound of seagulls, and yuck it smell down on the docks. It's fishy!” I just laughed again.

Now, girls think about this...What would it cost to live even in one room? What kind of job could you get to support yourself so you can eat every day and pay for a place to live? What about money for shampoo, clothes, shoes, stockings, toothpaste? Little things you need to pay for. Or, are you ready to sell yourself to stinky, smelly men to make a few dollars… Cause no one is going to give you hundreds of dollars the way you all look or smell right now.

Wouldn't it be worth a room over your head, food in your stomachs, a TV to watch, a bubble bath, shampoo etc. and all you have to do is some simple chores around your house, go to school and to learn to keep your fresh mouths shut...? I think that's a cheap price to pay for all that!

Now, I'm leaving to get back to my own family. Who's coming with me?

They all quietly got back into the car for the drive home. It wouldn't be easy for them. But, neither were their alternatives. Where in the cruel world could they sleep peacefully with their ragged teddy bears, other than at home?

© Carole Devecka, God Given Daisies CaroleDevecka@comcast.net

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