The Perfect Star

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The Perfect Star Page 20

by Rob Buyea


  “Is this it?” Meggie said, her eyes wide with wonder.

  “This is it,” I said.

  “It’s pretty.”

  “Look!” Scott exclaimed, pointing.

  He’d spotted the Good Morning America studio. Even now, with little activity going on, the place looked very official. It made me anxious.

  “Gavvy, there it is!” Meggie squealed, hugging me.

  “There it is,” I said. “Tomorrow morning we’ve got to get here and get you on TV. It’s our only chance at saving Dad.”

  She squeezed me, and I squeezed her back.

  “Okay,” Randi said. “Let’s go spend the night under the stars with all those angels, so that we’re ready for our big day.”

  “C’mon, Scott,” Meggie said, skipping off. “We’re going to sleep under the stars with the angels.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered to Randi.

  She grasped my hand, and we didn’t let go, not until we’d made it back to Grand Central Terminal.

  NATALIE KURTSMAN

  ASPIRING LAWYER

  Kurtsman Law Offices

  BRIEF #17

  December: A Series of Text Messages

  Mrs. Mason called, wondering if I’d heard from Scott or had any idea where he might be. The answer was no; I certainly didn’t know Scott’s whereabouts. I found her call odd but didn’t think much of it—that is, until I heard her voice shaking.

  “Thank you, Natalie. Please let me know if you hear from him,” Mrs. Mason choked.

  “I will,” I said. I was about to ask if everything was okay, but she hung up.

  I texted Randi to see if she knew anything but received no reply. Somewhat annoyed by that, I resumed my preparations for the next day’s broadcast, but I found it increasingly difficult to focus, the longer I went with no response from her. Mrs. Mason had been genuinely concerned. What was going on?

  Eventually my phone buzzed. Finally a text—but not from Randi.

  Trevor: mrs. mason wuz just here w/randi’s mom looking for scott randi gavin and meggie, know where they r?

  Trevor: they were pretty worried

  I promptly replied: No.

  And then I sent him a second text: Let me know if you hear from them.

  Trevor:

  I wouldn’t say I was worried just yet. I qualified more as curious—very curious, to be exact. I didn’t believe anything bad had happened; on the contrary, I had the feeling my friends had disappeared together and were entangled in some devious plot. Hence my curiousity.

  It was only a few minutes after I’d received Trevor’s text that Mrs. Mason and Ms. Cunningham arrived at my house. I heard Mother greeting them.

  I walked out of my bedroom, knowing they were looking for me. “I don’t know where they are,” I said. Mother looked at me, clearly puzzled. “Randi, Gavin, Meggie, and Scott have disappeared,” I explained, bringing her up to speed. “Trevor texted me.”

  Mother turned to Mrs. Mason and Ms. Cunningham for verification. They nodded.

  “Gloria, why don’t you sit down with Natalie. Let me fill the two of you in on what’s happened,” Ms. Cunningham said.

  I flinched. It was the tone of her voice. For the first time, I began to worry. Maybe something bad had happened.

  Ms. Cunningham started at the beginning and gave us the full story. How much can one family be asked to endure? I wondered, thinking of the Davidses. I’d been wrong not to worry.

  Very wrong. Mr. Davids was in intensive care. He’d already undergone one surgery to repair a tear in his liver, and he was going to need at least one additional surgery to fix his broken leg. He was in rough shape, but the dire financial situation that this put his family in was far worse. It had the potential to be tragic.

  I felt my phone buzz. I excused myself and hurried to the bathroom. I’d just learned from Mrs. Mason and Ms. Cunningham that Scott’s phone had been left behind and that Randi’s phone had had the location settings turned off so that she couldn’t be tracked, so who was texting me? Curiosity replaced worry again. My friends didn’t want to be found. What were they doing?

  I locked the door and pulled my phone from my pocket. Finally, some answers.

  Randi: Don’t tell ANYONE! PLEASE!

  Randi: In NYC. Very important. Sending you videos to explain.

  Whoa! This was insane! What were they doing in New York City?

  I waited for the videos to come across, but staring at my phone didn’t speed things up. There were tiny bubbles on my screen, which meant Randi was replying—or sending—but it was taking forever. How big was the video? Didn’t she know not to make it too big or else it wouldn’t send? And how many was she sending? I hoped she knew enough not to send several at once. If I waited in the bathroom much longer, it would raise suspicion.

  I began texting her a response, but before I finished, the first video suddenly came across. I quickly deleted all that I had typed and opened it.

  Already I was confused. The text was from Randi, but the video had been taken by Scott. They were in a car—and Gavin was driving! Were they out of their minds? Gavin was breaking the law! He could get arrested!

  “Meggie, can you say hi to the camera?” Scott asked.

  She waved.

  “Got any jokes for us?”

  Was he taking a page out of my book, getting viewers to love her before spilling the whole story? I’ll admit, I was flattered—but still over-the-top concerned.

  Meggie shook her head. Just seeing her made me smile—but she looked sad.

  “Can you tell everyone your name and what we’re doing?” Scott asked.

  “My name is Meggie Davids,” she told the camera. “My brother is Gavvy. Gavvy’s best friend is Randi, and she’s with us. So is Scott. He’s behind the camera.

  “My daddy got hurt bad in an accident yesterday. He’s in intensity care in the hospital. We’re on our way to save him now. I’m the secret-weapon play. Don’t worry, Daddy. We’re going to get help.”

  The video ended.

  I wanted to scream. That was like a chapter ending on a cliffhanger. Only, with a book you could keep reading. Not so with videos. I had no choice but to wait for the next one—and I had no inkling when it might show up. Torture!

  Of course, my immediate dilemma was what to do now? Should I tell Mrs. Mason and Ms. Cunningham or keep it secret? The first thing Randi had texted was not to tell. I certainly wasn’t going to give away their location, but Randi also didn’t know how worried her mother and Mrs. Mason were.

  I considered telling them that I’d heard from Randi and that everyone was safe, but if I did that, they were sure to bombard me with questions. I was trained to withstand the toughest interrogation, but keeping quiet, at least for now, meant escaping the questions altogether. I made my decision and left the bathroom and returned to the living room.

  I promised Mrs. Mason and Ms. Cunningham that I’d let them know if I heard anything, which I planned to do later, after Randi had sent additional videos. I didn’t enjoy withholding the truth, but I was confident in my plan. Besides, I’d be in a better position to share news and ease their worries after I had collected more information.

  As soon as Mrs. Mason and Ms. Cunningham left, Mother grabbed her purse and car keys and told me she was going to the hospital to check on Carla and Mr. Davids. With so many questions circling about my friends, I’d almost forgotten about Mrs. Davids. She had a husband in the intensive care unit and two children missing. That was too much. I had to ease some of her burden.

  “Mother, tell Mrs. Davids that Gavin and Meggie are okay,” I said.

  She froze. “Natalie, do you know something?”

  I looked away. I had to. �
�Mother, please. Just tell her.”

  Obviously I knew something. Mother stood there, one eyebrow raised, scrutinizing me, deciding what to say next. “You come to me if you need help—or if your friends do. Is that clear?”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  Mother held me in her gaze for another second, and then she turned and left for the hospital.

  My phone buzzed.

  The first thing we did when we got back to Grand Central Terminal was plop down at a table. We hadn’t stopped to eat all day, and we were starving, but before eating, I took a minute to send Natalie our first texts and video. We knew our parents would be worrying, but we also had to be careful not to give ourselves up. After my message went through, I pulled the peanut butter sandwiches and granola bars from my bag. Our food was warm and a bit smooshed, but it still tasted good.

  During dinner, Meggie and Scott told me all about Claudia and Jamie, the brother-sister combo in the book From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. Apparently, in the story they hide in a bathroom inside a museum.

  “Is that what we’re going to do, Gavvy?” Meggie asked.

  “You know it,” he said. “I’ve already checked it out. The men’s bathroom is a lot cleaner than anything else I’ve seen, and the handicapped stall is big enough for all of us to hide in there. Plus we can lock the door.”

  “And we have a toilet, so we won’t have to worry about that for later,” Scott pointed out.

  I wasn’t about to sit on any toilet in front of him, nor was I going to let him do his thing while Meggie and I were in there, but I didn’t make a fuss.

  “Why not the girls’ bathroom?” Meggie asked.

  “Because it’s always busier than the boys’,” Scott said.

  I chuckled. Wasn’t that the truth.

  Gav was smart and had brought a deck of cards, so after dinner we hung out at the table playing Go Fish until things got quiet, and then we made our way into the bathroom and hunkered down. We talked in hushed whispers, waiting for the night-shift custodian to show up. We figured he’d be our challenge, but Gav and I had a plan.

  Finally, after about an hour, the custodian banged through the bathroom door with his cleaning supplies. The handicapped stall was the last in line, so we had locked one of the earlier stall doors to see how he handled the situation. That way we’d know what to expect when he came to our locked door. We had planned to crawl under the stalls, scurrying from one to the next in order to stay hidden, but that wasn’t necessary because this guy was lazy. One tug on the first locked door, and he gave up.

  When he came to our door, it was the same. “Darn kids playing jokes again,” he muttered. “Guess you’ll wait to get cleaned later with your friend down there,” he told our stall. He moseyed away, whistling as he left.

  After he was gone, we let our giggles out and relaxed. It didn’t take long for Scott and Meggie to fall asleep, but Gav and I stayed awake for a while. We sat with our backs pressed against the wall, talking.

  “What’re you thinking?” I asked him.

  He didn’t answer right away, but I waited. I could see him forming his thoughts. “I didn’t like Kurtsman doing that story about Mr. Holmes. I was pretty mad about it.”

  “I know. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He shrugged. “I like conflict on the football field, but I don’t like it with my friends.”

  “Are you still mad about it, her doing the story?”

  “No. It’s crazy, but it seems like Mr. Holmes and my dad are more alike than they are different. They were both just trying to take care of their families during hard times.

  “Kinda makes me wonder, how many wars have been fought between people that when you get right down to it are really the same? I mean, wouldn’t most fathers say their children and families are what’s most important to them?

  “My dad has always taken care of us. I’ve gotta make this work tomorrow, Randi. I’ve got to do this for him.”

  I rested my head on Gav’s shoulder. We were done talking after that. I counted his breaths until I fell asleep.

  Natalie’s hot, and I’m not just saying that because she’s my girlfriend. Her looks alone make her intimidating, but add her kick-butt-and-take-questions-later attitude and she can be downright scary, which is why you don’t hear a lot of people talking about her being hot. But trust me; she is.

  That’s why I got nervous when she showed up for our broadcast on Monday morning not looking like herself. Gavin, Randi, and Scott hadn’t made it yet, and Natalie looked exhausted. Her eyes were bloodshot.

  “Natalie, what’s going on?” I whispered.

  “Miss Kurtsman, cutting it close this morning, aren’t you?” Mrs. Woods said. “Any idea where the rest of our Recruits might be? We’re getting close to showtime.”

  Natalie sighed. “There’s too much to explain right now, but the others won’t be joining us. I’ve been up all night preparing for today’s show, which should answer all of your questions.”

  “You mean they’re still missing?” I said.

  “No, they’re not missing. I know exactly where they are. But not now, Trev. We need to do the broadcast. This will be the most important show we’ve ever done. I’ve got a series of videos saved to our folder. When I cue you, play the first one. Just go in order after that.”

  I glanced at Mark and Mrs. Woods. “Okay,” I said.

  “Got it,” Mark replied.

  “Last thing,” Natalie said. “Toward the end of the broadcast, I’ll need you to cut to live TV. Channel ABC. Can you do that?”

  “No sweat,” Mark said. “We’ve got this.”

  “Good, because we’re out of time,” Mrs. Woods said. “Let’s razzle-dazzle ’em, Miss Kurtsman.”

  Natalie got positioned behind her desk, and Mark and I adjusted the cameras and sound.

  “We’re live in three, two, one,” I said.

  “Good morning, Lake View Middle School. I’m Natalie Kurtsman. I come to you today with urgent news about our quarterback and dear friend, Gavin Davids. There was a serious accident over the weekend involving Gavin’s father. His family is in desperate need of our help. I know I’ve leaned on you to help Robbie Holmes and his family, but—”

  Natalie’s voice cracked, and she had to stop talking. I don’t know if she’d planned that, but it worked. She didn’t need to say anything more because we could feel that it was real bad. She tried.

  “Gavin’s—”

  That was it. That was all she could get out. Her jaw started quivering, and you could see that she was fighting tears. Natalie nodded in my direction, and I hit play on the first of her videos.

  Meggie Davids appeared on our screen. She greeted us from the back of a car—a car that her brother was driving! Meggie gave us the lowdown on what was happening. She made us chuckle, but she also made a knot form in my throat. When the video ended, Natalie spoke again from behind her desk. She’d regained composure and pressed on.

  “Mr. Davids was on the ground underneath his plumbing van on Saturday morning, performing some routine maintenance, when by freak accident Meggie’s very large dog, Otis, collided with the side of the vehicle, causing the jack to collapse and the van to fall on top of Mr. Davids. Mr. Davids was rushed to the hospital by ambulance and went into immediate surgery to repair a tear in his liver and to stop internal bleeding. He had a second surgery to fix his broken leg last night.”

  Natalie nodded, and I cut to the second video. This clip showed footage from the train, Grand Central Terminal, and Times Square. It was clear that this was Scott’s work. After making his documentary at camp, he knew exactly what to do. I felt like I was on the journey with my friends. With every minute that passed I became more worried, surprised, excited, and hopeful for them. I wasn’t with Gavin and Meggie, but I sure was rooting for them.

 
The video ended, and we cut back to Natalie. “I just came from Saint Mary’s Hospital this morning,” she said. “Mr. Davids is doing well but remains in the intensive care unit.” She nodded, and I clicked on the next link, and an image of Mr. Davids appeared on the screen. I’ll tell you one thing, a picture of somebody in intensive care is not a happy sight.

  “Let me reiterate. Mr. Davids is doing well, but he clearly has a long road ahead,” Natalie continued. “His family, on the other hand, is in even greater peril. For whatever reason—and we should not judge—Mr. Davids does not have health insurance. Gavin’s family will be stuck paying all of his father’s medical bills—which are certain to be significant. That is a financial burden that even the wealthiest of families would struggle to meet. There is simply no way the Davidses can pay that debt. They need help—and Gavin and Meggie have gone to find it.”

  Natalie paused. Her phone was buzzing. She quickly pulled it out and read the screen. Then she took a deep breath and looked back into our camera.

  “I’ve just received word from Randi Cunningham that our friends are outside the Good Morning America studio. We’re going to break from our broadcast and go live to see what happens. Cross your fingers, say a prayer—do whatever it is you do—but let’s hope little Meggie Davids is able to capture America’s heart with her secret-weapon play. Her family’s life depends on it.”

  I grabbed Meggie by the hand. It was time to save our dad—and our family. We pushed through the door, leaving Grand Central behind, and stepped out onto Forty-Second Street. But instead of finding the sun’s glare reflecting off the skyscrapers, we were met by pouring rain. The sky was dropping sheets of water. Within minutes, we were soaked all the way through.

 

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