In Sickness And In Death Part 2

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The princ.i.p.al at Wachobe Middle School, Mrs. Travis, projected warmth in her smile, her handshake, and her guiding hand on Danny's shoulder. I squared away the paperwork with her while a teacher gave Danny some placement a.s.sessments. Then the princ.i.p.al took us on a tour. I'd seen the building before. Ray and I both went to school here, and the brick exterior and tan interior hadn't changed much. The library had new blue carpeting, and the gym had a springy newfangled floor made out of recycled rubber. I recognized the smell of Pizza Day wafting from the cafeteria.

With hair masking his face, I couldn't tell what Danny thought of the school. He sat outside in the hallway for a few minutes after our tour while the princ.i.p.al reviewed his a.s.sessments with me.

"He tested at grade level, although the teacher thought he showed more potential. I'm going to place him in Mr. Matthews' cla.s.s. He's a young teacher, and boys seem to relate well with him." Mrs. Travis fingered Danny's transcripts. "Danny's file indicates he can be a handful. I think Mr. Matthews will be up to the task."

I knew why Ray brought the doc.u.ments over here himself yesterday. He didn't want me to read the kid's transcript. Did he think a twelve-year-old could scare me?

On second thought, Erica at ten had been pretty frightening.

Mrs. Travis didn't seem to notice my involuntary shudder. She kept right on talking as though I was the natural choice to fulfill Danny's needs. "This is the list of supplies we require for fifth graders. It would be helpful if Danny could bring them on his first day."

Maybe she and Ray saw something in me that I didn't. In any case, I was in no shape to argue with either of them, or Danny, for that matter. I rose and picked up my purse. "We're going shopping now. He'll be ready to go on Monday."

The princ.i.p.al shook my hand again and wished us well. I stepped into the hall outside her office, but didn't see Danny. I headed to the left down the hallway in search of him, the click from my dress boot heels echoing off the walls.

I glanced into the cla.s.srooms filled with hard-at-work children. At the next hall, I gave up and turned back only to find Danny standing three yards behind me. "There you are. Are you ready to go?"

He nodded and took off at a fast clip. I had to hustle to keep up with him.

The hour drive to the nearest shopping mecca pa.s.sed without a word from Danny. I commented on how nice the princ.i.p.al seemed and tried to talk up his new teacher. Danny turned his face to the window. I chalked up his silence to natural apprehension about new people and places.

I found a barbershop that catered to sports enthusiasts with televisions tuned to the games while stylists did their magic. Danny didn't express any opinions as to how he would like his hair cut, so I asked the woman to give him a popular cut. His hair ended up covering his ears but not his face. Now I could see he was quite a handsome little fellow with high cheekbones and eyes like a mournful puppy dog. His right cheek had a nick in it the size of a pinhead just underneath his eye.

He picked Wendy's for lunch, but refused to make any sort of conversation, despite my half-hearted efforts. I picked Wal-Mart for shopping. He picked dark-wash jeans and T-shirts with motorcycles on them. Boxers, not briefs, and white crew socks. Pajamas with sports themes. The dark blue parka I picked seemed satisfactory to him. He refused a hat, mittens, or boots, even though I pointed out the snowfall predicted for Thanksgiving Day.

I read the school supply list while he selected the items off the shelf, showing a preference for all things blue and red, especially a red backpack. When we moved to the linen aisle, he selected a twin bed quilt with a sports theme. I got him all the accessories to match. We did all this with minimal conversation. Sometimes I received only a jerk of his head in reply to my questions. I attributed this to his being twelve years old and a boy, who had to shop for his new underwear and sheets with a strange woman.

We bought a bedroom set at a store that promised "zoom delivery" the very next day and no payment for a year, the only kind of furniture I knew for sure we could afford. He liked the walnut. So did I. He picked out sky blue paint at Sherwin-Williams. I was okay with that, too. But Ray would have to roll it over the pink I'd lovingly painted on Noelle's walls. My heart would break if I had to do it myself.

All in all, I considered it a good day. I planted Danny in front of the television when we got home, put the leftover lasagna in the oven, and debated calling Cory. I decided in favor of the nap I'd been craving instead. Cory and I had agreed yesterday that I would return to work full-time next week. This would be a slow week, given the holiday.

The phone rang as my head touched the pillow.

"Mrs. Parker, this is Mrs. Travis. We met this morning at school."

I sat up. "Yes, of course."

"We have a little problem. One of the children brought his Nintendo DS to school this morning in his backpack. That's against school rules, because we do have a theft problem from time to time. Anyway, he reported it missing at lunchtime. We talked to the teachers, and they suspect a boy they saw in the hallway this morning. He matches Danny's description."

Shocked and embarra.s.sed, I couldn't think of a reply.

"I was wondering if you could talk to Danny. The school is closed for the holiday beginning tomorrow, so if he does have the Nintendo, maybe you could bring it in on Monday morning. And of course I'll want to meet with both of you."

I was being summoned to the princ.i.p.al's office for the first time at age thirty-eight. My face burned with shame as I set down the receiver. Although I'd become Erica's surrogate mother at age twelve, her real troubles hadn't begun until after her school years. I'd never had to deal with an irate princ.i.p.al. I felt like an instant failure as Danny's foster parent. What had Ray gotten us into?

Danny was still on the couch where I'd left him. He didn't look up when I sat down or acknowledge my presence in any way. After opening my mouth a few times then closing it just as fast, I decided to set the table and let Ray deal with it when he got home.

I served dinner as soon as he walked in the door. Danny ate two servings of lasagna again, but tried to leave the table without eating the green beans I'd prepared.

I put my hand on his arm. "Another rule. You have to eat vegetables. The vitamins in them are good for you."

He looked to Ray for help.

"Jolene's right. Eat them and you can have two pieces of pie."

Danny ate them and the pie. "Can I watch TV now?"

I shook my head. "I got a call from the princ.i.p.al this afternoon, Ray. After Danny and I left, they discovered a boy's Nintendo was missing. The teachers saw a boy matching Danny's description near the backpack where it was last seen."

Ray got his "good-cop, bad-cop, whatever-you-need-me-to-be cop" expression going, his poker face showing a hint of intimidation this time. "Danny?"

"I found it on the floor. Finders keepers."

"Go get it."

He slinked away from the table and returned minutes later, holding the shiny black box in his hand.

"I'm very disappointed, Danny. I told you in this house we don't steal."

Danny slid his hands into his pockets. "It was on the floor."

"Then you should have taken it to the lost and found. You'll have to take it to the princ.i.p.al on Monday and apologize to the kid you took it from."

I decided not to tell Ray we'd been summoned to the princ.i.p.al's office. Most weeks, he didn't work on Mondays. I could tell him then and let him have the pleasure of facing Mrs. Travis.

Ray pushed his chair back from the table. "I think you should help me clear the table and do the dishes tonight, Danny. Maybe we can a.s.sign you some regular ch.o.r.es and pay you an allowance. You could earn enough money to buy your own Nintendo."

I could see Danny mulling this concept over. Ray handed him his dish, and he carried it to the sink. I decided to make myself useful by cutting the tags off Danny's new clothes and washing them with his new sheets.

I could hear Ray's voice murmuring to Danny and the occasional soft reply. Ray would be good for Danny. He was a rock when he needed to be, and a real softie the rest of the time. But what would I do all the hours Ray was at work? I didn't think I could keep up with both Danny and Erica, and tomorrow I had to get my sister in hand.

Over the noise of the washing machine, I heard the phone ring. Ray hung up as I entered the kitchen. I looked at him in question.

"I have to go out."

"You got called in?"

"No." Ray's face was a thundercloud. "Gumby called me. Your sister is drunk and disorderly. She's singing at the top of her lungs at The Cat's Meow and-" he shot a glance at Danny who averted his interested gaze "-flashing people. He said if I hurry, the owner won't make him take her in."

Steven Fellows, better known as Gumby, worked as a county deputy sheriff, too. His wife, the lovely and talented Briana Engle, stripped at The Cat's Meow. The strip joint was located well outside the township of Wachobe but still a pimple on our image.

I pressed my hand against my temple, fearing what tomorrow would bring. "Erica stopped taking her medicine. If you bring her back here for the night, I'll call Dr. Albert and schedule an emergency visit for tomorrow. Do you have to work tomorrow?"

Ray grabbed his car keys and headed for the door. "I do."

I looked at Danny, who'd been swinging his gaze between us. "Then Danny is going to have to go with us to the appointment."

His eyes widened.

I hated to expose him to Erica at her worst, not to mention the rest of Dr. Albert's patients. But then, on the other hand, it might be good for Danny to get a look at the state mental facility. After all, it was a lot like a prison.

And if he didn't stop following in his father's footsteps pretty quick, that just might be his next home.

By the time Ray dragged Erica into the house, all the song had left her. In fact, she ran to the bathroom and all the drink left her, too. I sc.r.a.ped her off the bathroom floor and tucked her into our bed. Ray would have to take the couch tonight, and the kid would have to make do with a sleeping bag on the floor.

Ray lit a fire and toasted marshmallows with Danny, for whom it seemed a new experience. He torched several before he got the hang of it. Then Ray told him a few ghost stories. The kid didn't scare easily. I left them around ten o'clock to lie down beside my sister, who snored louder than Ray. I wrapped my pillow around my head and tried to get enough sleep to face the next day.

At seven a.m. Ray left for work with a crick in his neck, shoulders hunched from sleeping on the too-short couch, a grim look on his face. He didn't even kiss me good-bye. Danny and Erica arrived at breakfast around ten, both with sour expressions and moans.

"Coffee. Water. Aspirin." Erica rested her head on the table. "Did you get another kid last night?"

I set a cup of coffee in front of her. I'd made it especially for her, knowing that she would want it. I never drank coffee, although I did enjoy the aroma of it. It reminded me of Ray, who could never go more than a couple hours without a cup.

I set juice and pancakes in front of Danny. "What are you talking about, Erica?"

She pointed to Danny. "There's two of him."

Danny rolled his eyes. "You're a drunk."

Erica whipped her head off the table, then put her hands to her temples, blinking rapidly. "I am not."

"You puked last night. You're gross."

"You're a thief."

He shot her the finger.

I banged on the table. Erica moaned.

"Erica, you're thirty-three years old. Stop arguing with the twelve-year-old. Danny, more rules. No swear fingers and no name-calling." I set the aspirin and water in front of Erica. "Drink up. We have a noon appointment with Dr. Albert."

"I don't want to see him."

"Well, he wants to see you. He's skipping lunch just for you. So get it together, because we're going."

The forty-five-minute ride to Dr. Albert's office pa.s.sed in silence. I couldn't even play the radio, because Erica said it made her head ache.

Danny muttered "boo hoo" in the back seat after she complained. I shot him "the look" via the rearview mirror. He got the message and shut up.

Dr. Albert rented office s.p.a.ce in a building conveniently located next to the state psychiatric center, where Erica had spent many months after her multiple suicide attempts. As we pulled into the parking lot, the shadow of "the tower," the nickname for the fourth floor where she'd resided, fell over the car. She slumped in her seat. "I'm not going in."

I opened my mouth to argue, but Danny got his word out first. "Chicken."

Erica whirled to face him. "I am not chicken. I hate chicken."

"Chicken."

As their battle raged on, I got out of the car, walked around to Erica's door, and whipped it open. I grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the car.

"Ow."

I kept hold of her arm and marched her toward Dr. Albert's office. "You're arguing with the twelve-year-old again."

"I don't like him. Can't you give him back to foster care?"

The thought had crossed my mind more than once, but at the moment, I didn't like my sister all that much either. I kept walking.

Dr. Albert was hot, and the minute Erica saw him, she remembered that. She straightened up and smoothed her clothes, smiling at high voltage. He gave her the same wattage in return and ushered her into his office. "Give us an hour, please, Jolene."

I turned and realized Danny hadn't followed us inside. I jogged out to the parking lot. He was in the car. I let out a sigh of relief and climbed into the driver's seat.

"Thanks for riding along with us, Danny. When we get home, your furniture should be coming. And Ray has tomorrow off because it's Thanksgiving. Maybe you guys can start painting the room in the morning."

"Which room am I getting?"

I swallowed. "The second bedroom."

"The one with the baby crib in it?"

Tears warmed my eyes. "Yeah. You guys will have to move all that furniture into the garage."

"Did your baby die?"

I dug a tissue out of my purse and blew my nose. "No. We had a baby from foster care for seven months. We wanted to adopt her, but her mother changed her mind and wanted her back."

"And now you're sad. That's what Ray said."

"He did?"

"He said you were sad, but having me around would make you happy. He said not to worry if you cried, because you'd snap out of it."

That sounded just like Ray. For years I'd soldiered on in the face of my mother's suicide, my father's death, and my sister's bizarre behavior, Ray helpful by my side. But when we lost Noelle and I slumped into depression, Ray accepted two months of my misery before he sat me down. He said he'd never worried about me before when he left for work, because he knew I'd go on whether he came home or not. But now he did worry, and it was affecting his decision-making. I'd told him, "Don't worry, I'll snap out of it." And I would-in time. But it needed to be my time.

"He's right. Not to worry." I managed a smile as I stuffed the soiled tissue back in my purse. "I'm okay now."

Danny gave me a relieved twitch of his lips in return. "I don't know what's so great about babies anyway. All they do is cry and mess their diapers. They smell bad."

"They smell really nice after a bath, trust me." I pinched the bridge of my nose to stop the tears from returning.

"I guess." He faced the window. Our bonding was over.

I turned on the radio and listened until it was time to retrieve Erica, trying not to think about Noelle or about Ray's scheme to make me feel better by sticking me with this juvenile delinquent in training. But when the song "You Are So Beautiful" played, I pictured Noelle's sweet face and almost lost it.

I locked Danny in the car while I walked into the office building, explaining it was for his protection. His expression said, "Yeah, right, lady."

A light snow had started. I stuck my tongue out to catch one of the first snowflakes of the season before entering the office building. Maybe in my next life I would be a carefree, drifting snowflake.