Read Restoring Harmony for Free Online Page A

toddler pushing a stroller, and I hurried after her.
    “Is this the way to the MAX train?” I asked.
    She smiled. “Yep. We’re going that way too.”
    “I need to get to Gresham.”
    “MAX will take you there. Hopefully a lot faster than that stupid train from Seattle. I catch the one going the other direction, but I’ll show you.”
    “Thanks.”
    The MAX station turned out to be just a narrow road paved with crumbling red bricks, and two tracks. People crowded together on both sides of the street, huddling in the shade of the buildings. Rivulets of sweat trickled down my spine under my backpack. I had a feeling my hair looked like my mom’s after she’d cooked a big meal. Humidity in the kitchen made her long, frizzy hair bush out even worse than my dad’s clown hair.
    “You catch your train across the street,” the woman said. “Good luck. And we really loved your music.”
    “Thanks.”
    My dad had told me to buy a ticket from one of the machines before I boarded. I saw a big dispenser with cracked red buttons and a little screen. The entire thing was covered with graffiti. There was a spot to put money in, but a strip of metal had been screwed over the top of it so you couldn’t use it.
    A guy with sandy hair and a sunburned nose stood leaning against the machine, watching me. I pushed a button just to see if maybe the screen would light up, but nothing happened.
    “Those machines haven’t worked since the Collapse,” he said.
    “Oh.”
    “The MAX is free for anyone who lives in the county. It’s a social service,” he explained. “You just apply for a pass and they send you one every month in the mail.
    “How do visitors pay?”
    “You buy a pass at Pioneer Square.”
    I was totally confused now. “In Seattle?”
    “No. Downtown.”
    “Oh.” Did every city in the U.S. have a Pioneer Square? “Can I walk there?”
    “Sure. It’s not far, but it’s kind of confusing. I’ll take you there if you want,” he said, smiling.
    He looked normal enough. He was clean and wore shorts and a T-shirt, and I didn’t think his pockets were big enough to hide a gun, but he could have a knife. I was done trusting strangers. Getting burned once today was enough.
    “That’s all right,” I said. “I can find it. Just tell me where it’s at.”
    He studied me for a second, then shrugged and started giving me directions.
    “Stop,” I said after about fifteen seconds. “You were right. I’m already lost. Are you sure you don’t mind taking me there?”
    He laughed. “No problem.”
    We walked down the street, under a bridge where more people waited at another stop, and then turned right and headed up towards the heart of the city. I studied the guy out of my peripheral vision. He was definitely older than me, but not by much. Maybe early twenties.
    Everything about him was average, from his sun-bleached hair to the light sprinkle of freckles across his nose. He had an athletic build, strong and lean, tall enough, but not too tall. He was wearing shorts, and his tanned calves were thick and hard with muscles, which probably meant that he rode a bike. I liked the way he looked, and it made me want to explain my own disheveled appearance.
    “I lost my shoes,” I said.
    “I noticed.”
    “I was barefoot and my feet were bleeding and someone gave me these slippers. I’d take them off but the pavement’s really hot.”
    He smiled.
    “Normally I don’t wear slippers outside. Or at all, really. I mean, in the winter I do because it’s cold. But not in the summer. It’s just that I-”
    “Lost your shoes. I know,” he said.
    “Do you think there’s anyplace to buy a used pair?” I asked him.
    “Mmm . . . Maybe tomorrow. I think all the shops are probably closed by now.”
    “Oh.”
    We walked in silence for a few blocks while I tried to think of something else to say. Finally I burst out, “I’m from British Columbia.” I said it like it was some amazing feat, like I’d come from the