Girl Squad

by Kim Hoover

  I felt a little calmer after reading those words, somehow confident that I would find a way to put my life back in order. I fell asleep thinking about Jane in the bunk at the YWCA in Ft. Worth. And I didn’t feel guilty at all.

  The next morning, desperate to be alone, I decided to walk to school instead of riding with Dad. The walk was a blissful half hour. The sunrise was just beginning to warm the earth and there was a gentle breeze in the air. I walked by someone cutting their grass and the smell of the freshly mowed lawn comforted me. I stopped for a second or two to enjoy the peace.

  As I approached the high school parking lot, a pickup truck slowed beside me. I looked up at the driver, a man wearing a cowboy hat and dark glasses. I recognized him as one of the Hart boys. I stopped short, looking left and right for an escape route. He reached out of the window with a small white envelope in his hand. It took me a few seconds to realize he was handing it to me. I grabbed it and he sped away.

  There was a card inside. It was a greeting card with cute little children drawn on the front and a handwritten note on the inside. I recognized the handwriting immediately as my mother’s. My racing heart made my fingers tremble as I held it up to read. Cal, I need to see you. Please meet me after school today at the Daisy Diner across from the entrance to City Park. Love, Mom.

  Shaking, I stuffed the card into my book bag, looking around to see if anyone was watching. Nobody was paying attention to me.

  I spent the day distracted, unable to focus on anything in the classroom, thinking about the note. I wasn’t sure I should go, or if I even wanted to go. I was desperate to talk it over with someone—Jane, Rachel, or Grandma. Of course, I couldn’t talk to any of them. I was alone. Finally, during study hall, I decided to make a collect call to Grandma. I had to convince the student monitor to let me go, promising him the inside scoop on how Rachel got hurt.

  I went to the school office and begged to use a telephone in one of the unoccupied rooms. But just as I was about to dial, I had second thoughts. Maybe I shouldn’t involve Grandma in this. I didn’t know where it was going and I didn’t want her to get caught up in something that could land her in jail. Once I met with Mom, if I did, I would be compromised. Anything I found out I would be obligated to turn over to the Texas Rangers. But this was my mother and I wasn’t sure that was what I would do. It was all speculation for now, but why mix Grandma into the mess at this point? I decided I would meet Mom—alone.

  I approached the diner, scared out of my wits, looking over my shoulder as I opened the door. I glanced around quickly but didn’t see Mom. The lady at the hostess stand asked me if I wanted to sit down.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m waiting for someone.”

  “Here you go, hon,” she said. “I’ll put you in the window so you can watch for your friend.”

  I sat down on the tufted red leather bench seat, nervously watching the front door, cigarette smoke from the booth behind me enveloping me in an eerie gray cloud. I ordered a Coke when the waitress came by. I looked at my watch. It was almost four o’clock.

  “Hey, there,” said Mom, appearing out of nowhere and scooting into the bench across from me. She wore a disguise that made her look much older, more like a grandmother.

  “Where did you come from?”

  “I snuck in through the kitchen. These folks are friends.”

  “The diner people are in on this?”

  She ignored that question. I stared at her, trying to recognize any resemblance to the woman I knew as my mother. It wasn’t just the disguise. It was everything about her. She gave off an energy I had never felt from her before. I couldn’t think of anything more to say.

  “Are you doing okay?” she asked.

  “No,” I said. “Are you kidding me?”

  She reached across the table, trying to touch me, but I pushed away from her. “I understand, but—”

  “I don’t think you do,” I hissed. “Rachel almost died.”

  She sat back, taking a deep breath. I thought I caught a flicker of a smile playing across her face. “Well, darlin’, I think that’s on you,” she said, folding her arms.

  It was unbelievable. She couldn’t care less about Rachel. Who is this woman?

  I looked at her through slits as fierce as I could make them, gritting my teeth, “What do you want?”

  She took a pack of Newports out of her purse and lit one. “I need your help with something,” she said.

  I gripped the Coke in front of me even tighter. I didn’t say anything. She flicked her cigarette into the ashtray.

  “You know about Hank.”

  I sipped the Coke and slightly nodded.

  “Whatever you’ve heard, it’s only half the truth.”

  “Mom, you’re part of a crime ring. What are you doing?”

  “Here’s the bottom line,” she said, leaning over the linoleum table. “If I can get them a piece of information they want, they’ll let me go. I can come home.”

  I banged my hand on the table. “Why don’t you go to the police? Turn yourself in?”

  She shifted, shaking her head. “This is serious business, Cal. They’re watching my every move. If I go to the police, I’m dead.”

  “How did this happen? It’s because of him, isn’t it?”

  She shouted over her shoulder to the waitress, “Jenny! Bring me a shot a Jim Beam.”

  “All of a sudden you drink?” I said as the waitress slid the bourbon across the table.

  “Here’s what I need from you,” she said, throwing back the shot. “Your dad has a logbook for work—”

  “Oh, no,” I said. I was ready to leave.

  “Just wait,” she said. She grabbed my hand and pulled me back. “All I need is the date and time of the next big refinery shipment out of Amarillo.”

  “Mom!” I tried to pull away.

  “I have a week,” she said, tears brimming over her eyelashes. “Please help me get out of this mess.”

  I stopped resisting and looked into her eyes, wanting to believe her.

  “Here’s how to reach me.”

  She handed me a crumpled piece of paper and hurried out of the diner the way she came in. I stood there stunned, watching her go.

  “Don’t worry about the check, honey,” the waitress said, clearing the table.

  I left the diner in a daze, walking aimlessly until I ended up at my mom’s house. I stared across at Rachel’s, filled with misery and regret, and cried bitter tears. The more I thought about it, the more I worried my mother was not an innocent bystander in this whole convoluted series of events. But yet, I still wanted to believe she could be saved, even if she had been romanced into crime by that evil man. As I headed to my dad’s, I knew I would do what she had asked.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I was crossed-legged on my bed in the dark when Dad got home that night. I hadn’t bothered to get up to turn on the light when the sun went down. I had been sitting there for a couple of hours, staring at the wall, my body feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds and I’d never be able to move again. I couldn’t help thinking that I had somehow brought this all on myself. What I had done with Jane was wrong and I didn’t even regret it.

  God was punishing me for my sins with Jane. I deserved it. You can’t fall in love with someone of the same sex. Everything they preach from the pulpit tells you that you can’t get away with things like that. How did I think I could escape the consequences? God had separated me from Jane and had taken away my best friend. All because I was…I couldn’t even say the word to myself.

  Dad called me from the other room and I forced myself to get up.

  “Rachel’s been asking to see you,” he said, hanging up the telephone.

  “Really?”

  “That was Rachel’s dad. She’s doing better and she really wants you to visit, so I said I’d bring you down. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

  “Thank you, Dad, really. I know it’s not easy for you to just take off.”

&nb
sp; I watched him putting his work things away in the closet. He always carried a small leather portfolio that zipped up like a pouch. I thought about Mom’s reference to the logbook and rubbed my eyes with a sigh.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “No, no, I’m just thinking about what to bring Rachel. Could we stop at Stuckey’s on the way? She loves those disgusting pecan logs.”

  “That’s easy enough,” he said.

  When the apartment was still and Dad was asleep, I went into the living room as quietly as I could and opened the hall closet. I used a flashlight to find the leather portfolio. My heart pounded in my ears as I unzipped it and looked inside. I found a small notebook and saw what appeared to be a schedule of places, dates, and times. It didn’t say what the schedule was for, but I assumed it was about the refinery shipments. Flipping through it, I saw notes about deliveries to Amarillo later that month.

  This must be what she’s looking for. I memorized the information and put the notebook and the portfolio back in its place. I wasn’t sure I would go through with it. I didn’t owe her anything. On the other hand, if this was all she needed to get away from them… My head hurt. I couldn’t think about it anymore.

  Dad and I left early the next morning, Saturday, making the three-hundred-mile trip in less than six hours. We only stopped once to get Rachel’s pecan log. I wanted to avoid talking, so I pretended to sleep for most of the drive, listening to the stereo playing the collection of eight tracks Dad had in the car. But as we got closer to Dallas, he insisted on bringing up the subject of my mother.

  “I know you thought you were helping her with that escapade in the canyon.” I didn’t say anything. “But that’s when they figured out she’s part of this thing.” He looked at me for a reaction, but I didn’t look back. “She’s a criminal, Cal.”

  “I know that’s how it looks,” I said.

  “That’s how it is,” he said. “And it’s not going to end well.”

  I stared straight ahead for the rest of the ride. He stayed quiet too. He knew I wasn’t going to say anything else.

  Once we arrived at the hospital, I spotted Rachel’s mom and ran into her arms. I cried and cried, unable to stop. She held me while I heaved and wailed, overcome with grief I hadn’t realized was trapped inside.

  “She’s gonna be okay, sweetie,” she said. “She can’t wait to see you.”

  Standing at the door of her room, I felt so messed up, almost afraid now to go inside. When I saw her, I couldn’t believe how pale and frail she looked. I guess the shock on my face showed.

  “Not my best look, huh?” she said with a laugh.

  “You scared me.”

  She reached for my hand. “How are you?”

  I sat on the bed next to her. “Missing you. And Jane.”

  “What happened to Jane?”

  Now the tears were coming back. “Her parents sent her away. She’s at boarding school. I’m not even sure where. I think it’s in New York.”

  “Oh, Cal, that’s terrible. You haven’t even talked to her?”

  I shook my head. I took a tissue from the box next to Rachel’s bed, wiped my face, and blew my nose. “I had a meeting with my mom.”

  “How?”

  “The gang arranged it. She says they’ll let her go if she gets them information on refinery deliveries just one more time.”

  “And she needs you for that?”

  “Yeah, I stole it from my dad’s notebook last night.”

  “How do you know they’ll let her go?”

  “I don’t. But what if I don’t help her and something terrible happens?”

  “How much time do you have?”

  “Mom said she had a week. That was yesterday.”

  “I don’t know, Cal. I hate to say this, but what if she’s lying?”

  “I just can’t believe she would do that to me,” I said through tears again.

  “I’m sorry,” Rachel said. “I didn’t mean—”

  “No, it’s okay. I’d feel the same way if it was the other way around.”

  “Just be careful. If you do it, you’re part of the crime.”

  “Don’t you think this is almost like self-defense?” I said. I was up, pacing the room. “I’m only doing it to save her.”

  “I guess you could argue that, but I don’t know.”

  “My dad says she’s straight-up a criminal.”

  “Really? No room for doubt?”

  “Not a bit. He says it won’t end well.”

  Rachel nodded and leaned back on her pillow, closing her eyes. “I think you should listen to him.”

  “You look tired,” I said. “Maybe you should take a nap. I’ll go down to the cafeteria and wait for Dad.”

  “Okay,” Rachel said. “Cal? Don’t give up on Jane.”

  “Are you sure? Sometimes I think that…how I feel about her is, you know, why all this other bad stuff is happening.”

  “Stop it. Don’t think that way. You’re the best person I know. Whatever you have going with Jane can’t be a sin.”

  I kissed her on the forehead as she fell asleep, and then I crept quietly out of the room.

  I bought a Dr. Pepper in the cafeteria and thought about how I could get in touch with Jane. I knew she must be trying to call or send letters, but my dad was blocking communication. The mail came to a locked mailbox in the parking lot of the apartment building and he had the only key. By the time he came back for me, I had made up my mind to pay a visit to Jane’s parents and persuade them to give me Jane’s address and a telephone number. I would ride my bike over there as soon as I got back to town. Rachel was right. I would never give up on Jane, no matter what anyone, including God, had to say about it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  When Dad and I got back home the next afternoon, I made an excuse to him, grabbed my bike and rode straight to Jane’s parents’ place. I parked near the garage and ran to the front door, pushing the chime.

  Jane’s brother, Ted, opened the door.

  “Ted!” I stepped inside before he could decide not to let me in.

  “Well, hello,” he said. “Come on in.”

  “You have to help me get in touch with Jane.”

  “Hold on a minute,” he said. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”

  I followed him and sat on one of the barstools at the counter while he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a milk carton.

  “Want some?”

  “No, thanks,” I said, impatient to get to the point. “I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I really want to talk to Jane. And I have no idea where she is.”

  “Well,” he said. “I could tell you, but if my parents find out, they’ll be furious.”

  “But why? Why would they care if I talk to her?”

  He drained his glass of milk before responding. “It’s kind of an intervention.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You know, breaking you up.”

  I felt red-hot and looked away.

  “They… Well, really it’s Mom… She thinks you two are…you know, lez.”

  I stared at the counter in front of me, humiliated. “Could I have some water?”

  He took a glass from the cabinet and filled it from a pitcher in the refrigerator. I took a drink and felt the cold water trace my throat down into my stomach. “Will you help me or not?”

  He took a slip of paper and wrote something on it. “I didn’t give this to you. Understood?”

  I nodded and stormed out of the house, furious that her parents would do this to us. I punched the garage door, trying to knock a hole in it. I drew back a bloody fist and thought I might have broken my hand. “Crap!”

  I got on my bike and rode blindly as fast as I could, paying no attention to where I was going. A few blocks away, I stopped the bike, laid it down and sat on the curb. I was almost delirious—from the travel, from thinking about Mom, from what Ted had told me. I had to force myself to focus on what I’d set out to do—get in touch
with Jane. I pulled out the piece of paper Ted had handed me: Jolsen Maynard School.

  I checked my watch to see if I still had time to get to the public library before it closed. “If I hurry.”

  At the library, I asked the librarian if there were books I could use to research boarding schools in the East. The librarian looked at me peculiarly, but she took me to a stack in the education section. She pulled down a book called College Prep for Girls—Boarding Academies.

  I found a description of Jolsen Maynard School. “Founded in 1814, Jolsen Maynard School is a boarding academy for girls grades 9-12. Set on 137 beautiful acres in Syracuse, New York, Jolsen Maynard provides a unique educational setting for intellectually curious girls who want to explore the full range of engagement with their world.”

  There was a telephone number. I wrote it down. I wondered how I would get through to Jane if the school knew there was this girl in Texas who Jane’s parents were trying to keep her away from. I would have to come up with a clever plan to get around that.

  The next morning, Dad banged on my door, yelling at me to wake up. “You’re gonna be late!”

  I had overslept. I was still in my clothes from the night before. I’d fallen asleep dreaming a crazy mix-up of rescuing Jane from boarding school and bringing the Brazos River Gang to justice.

  “Just give me a few minutes,” I said.

  Pull yourself together. Just take one thing at a time. I organized my schoolbooks and put them into the bag. I looked again at the number for the Jolsen Maynard School, and I tucked the small piece of paper into the back of my wallet.

  On my way into the school building, I slipped around the side to the mechanical annex where Mom had told me to leave a date and time for another meeting at the diner. I tucked an envelope under the boiler—where her note had said to put it. It said I would meet her at the diner the next morning at seven a.m. I still wasn’t sure if I was going to give her the information she’d asked for. It was going to come down to whether she could convince me that Dad was wrong about her.