She crawled from the bed, careful not to wake her mother, and checked to see if the crackers were still there. They were. The girl wanted to snatch them from their plastic wrapper and eat them, but that wouldn’t be fair. She went back to bed and tried to sleep.
The next morning, her mother gave her both the crackers. “I’m not hungry,” she said. The girl didn’t believe her but still ate the crackers in small mouselike nibbles, trying to make them last as long as possible. Lunchtime passed, and so did dinner. Her father didn’t come.
The girl grew cranky. Water sloshed around in her empty stomach making her feel sick. “I’m hungry,” she complained. “When is Dad coming?” she asked.
“There is no food,” her mother finally snapped. “It’s all gone. There is nothing left.”
“Then you should go out there and get some,” the girl shot back. Her mother grew very quiet.
Out There. That’s what they called it. Don’t go Out There, her mother would say, your father will get mad, it’s not safe.
Her father would say, “There are bad people Out There. They will take you away from us, and you’ll never see your mother again.”
So they never left. They stayed in the basement with its concrete floors and cement walls.
But to her surprise, the girl’s mother walked up the stairs and stood at the closed door. She tentatively reached out and gave the doorknob a twist. The door was locked. Her mother came back down the steps and stood in the center of the room.
“What are you doing?” the girl asked, but her mother waved her away.
She stood there for a long time and then told the girl to find her a pen. “A pen?” the girl asked in confusion.
“Get me a pen,” her mother ordered sharply. The girl hurried to her art box, found what she was looking for, and then handed it to her mother. To her surprise, her mother twisted the pen until the outer plastic covering came loose. She tossed this to the table and examined what remained—the pen’s sharp tip and the tube filled with ink. Back up the steps her mother went. The girl followed. Her mother crouched down in front of the door and began to press the tip of the pen into the knob.
“What are you doing?” the girl asked, but her mother hushed her and continued to poke at the doorknob. This went on for what felt like an eternity, but suddenly there was a soft click and the door swung open. It happened that quickly, that easily.
Her mother told her to stay put, but the girl didn’t listen. Together they both stepped right into the Out There.
The girl marveled at the sight. The kitchen had a large refrigerator, a stove, a microwave, and there was a dishwasher like she had seen on television. There was a round wooden table with four chairs to match and a long row of cupboards above a shiny countertop.
The girl looked to her mother for an explanation. Why did they have to stay in the basement where they ate from a small plastic table and there was no stove and only a small refrigerator that was smaller than she was?
Her mother wasn’t looking around the kitchen, though. She started walking, trancelike, through the kitchen and the dining room where there was another table and more chairs. She moved to yet another room. This one had not just one, but two sofas and a chair to match, a television and a tall, slender clock that nearly went to the ceiling. All the windows in this room were covered with heavy shades.
Her mother wasn’t looking at all these wonders either. Her focus was on a large door with three square windows near the top. Bright sunshine streamed through the glass, and the two stood in the sunbeam for a moment, feeling the warmth seep into their skin.
Her mother reached for the knob, but the door refused to open. She fingered the brass lock below the knob, then twisted it to the right. She tried the knob again, the door squeaked open.
It was like looking into a picture book. There were so many colors and scents and sights that the little girl had never seen before that she was momentarily stunned. Without thinking, she moved from the house onto the concrete front steps. The air was cool but warmer than the basement. The sky was blue, and the sun was warm and the color of honey. The trees were covered in jewel-colored leaves and all around them were golden fields for as far as she could see. And there was a lane that led from the front of the house all the way up to the road that went somewhere. To the mountains, to the ocean, to the desert—somewhere far from here.
The world outside was quieter than she imagined. There was the soft rustle of the corn stalks as a breeze swept across the fields, the muffled buzz of green grasshoppers, and the whir and warble song from barn swallows. She bent down to pick a pretty yellow flower when she was jerked back by her arm.