Read Online Tell Me by Joan Bauer - Free Book Online

bus.”
    â€œLike this?” Daphne shows me what she’s drawn. Her drawing looks like a bus.
    â€œIt wasn’t that long or that high, but it had windows like a bus.”
    She changes the height and the length. “Better?”
    â€œYes.”
    She asks questions about the girl. I show her the list I made, tell her about the baby animal eyes.
    Daphne draws deep, round, scared eyes on the face of a girl with dark hair.
    I mention the ponytail, the scrunchie.
    â€œLet’s bring this girl out of the van. What was she wearing?”
    I try to think. All I can remember is the lady grabbing the girl’s hand. I can see the lady’s arm.
    I stand up. “She had a tattoo!”
    â€œThe girl?”
    â€œThe lady!”
    Winnie leans back. “I remember that. It was aflower, like a daisy.”
    â€œWhere?” Daphne holds her pencil, ready.
    â€œJust above the elbow.” I look to Winnie. “Right?”
    Daphne draws an arm with a daisy tattoo. She draws a stem.
    Winnie shakes her head. “No stem.”
    â€œThe flower was fuller,” I mention.
    Daphne draws that, but it still isn’t right. “What arm? Left or right?”
    â€œLeft,” I say.
    Winnie bites her lip. “It was right, as I remember.”
    Oh boy.
    Daphne smiles. “That’s okay. Was the flower like this?”
    We help her make it fuller, but how is this going to help find a girl?
    Colors are coming to me now.
    The lady had a purple phone.
    The girl was wearing white sandals.
    The man had gray hair that fell over his ears.
    The artist shows us pictures of faces. Some are criminals, I figure, some are famous people.
    â€œWas the girl’s face round, square, long . . . what do you think, Anna?”
    Winnie and I decide it was round.
    â€œAnd the color of her eyes?”
    â€œBrown,” Winnie and I say that together.
    â€œWhat language did the lady speak?”
    â€œNot Spanish or French. I know what those sound like.” Winnie didn’t hear them speak.
    So much is on me!
    Can you remember?
    No, not anymore!
    I don’t want to get it wrong!
    â€œShould we take a break?” Daphne asks.
    Yes, please.

    Mim hands me and Taylor each a bottle of lemonade that has a picture of a man in an old-fashioned hat smiling like he knows a good secret—the lady he’s with is smiling like the world is an easy place.
    A police car pulls up—we’re standing outside the station—and a big cop gets out. He has two moles on his cheek, his hair is thin on top of his head, he is as tall as my dad, and when he smiles at us he has a space between his two front teeth.
    I could go back inside and describe the policeman and the lemonade man and his lady to Daphne and getevery detail right.
    But it seems the more I think about the girl, the foggier she becomes.
    Â 
    If they can find you, I promise I’ll be your friend.
    Â 
    â€œMemory”—Mim sighs—”is a tricky thing.”
    â€œYou were amazing in there, Anna.” That’s Taylor.
    I finish my lemonade with a slurp.
    â€œI swear, my brain aches.” Winnie rubs her forehead. “How are you, Anna?”
    â€œI wish I could remember more.”
    â€œAll you can remember is what you can remember.”
    But is it enough?

    â€œWe’ve got a lot here.” Daphne shows us the three sketches she’s made, of the van, the girl, and the lady with the daisy tattoo. “What do you think? Have we got it?”
    This looks real. I felt like part of me is back there at the library. I can feel the anger of the lady, the girl looking at me.
    Why didn’t I say something then?
    Winnie studies the sketches. “This is good, Daphne.Very good. And I’ve got another piece. The lady had another tattoo on her calf. Her left calf. It was a spider.”
    I never saw that. I get a chill as Daphne tries to draw a spider.
    Spiders weave their webs where no one can