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Show Twisters . . . 79 her hair, A stranger, seeing her in that oversize Levi's jacket and her faded cut-offs, would think she was just another teenage hood. I didn't care, I still thought she was pretty. "He'll take you upstairs," the police lady said to us next, "come on back." Upstairs? What for7 "Can you tell me something first?" I heard myself asking. "Has Phillips . . . we heard . . . did Phillips get hit by a tornado?" All the while we were following her through the office and down a hall. "I couldn't tell you. One was sighted near Hansen, I know. People are spotting tornadoes everywhere on a night like this." "We've been in two of them," Arthur told her. "Then you're lucky!" she snapped. "There've been a dozen right here in G.I." Who's lucky? I wanted to scream at her. Already I felt like a prisoner. I couldn't get any answers-from anybody! Don't twelve-year-old kids have rights? I blinked fast, digging my fingernails into my too, arms. I'd wanted to ask about Meves Bowl,Abut now I didn't have the nerve, At that point she turned us over to the janitor-or jailor, whichever he was, and went back to her telephones. On our way up the stairs, he told us he was taking us to the women's section. "Long as there aren't any female prisoners tonight, you can stay here." The last locked door led into a carpeted room with very plain walls. In that main room there were two couches and some chairs arranged around a table full of magazines. "You kids take one of those bedroom units." He pointed to the long, narrow rooms jutting off of the big room. |
