The Right Time

by Susan X Meagher

  The common room was empty, so the group had obviously taken her suggestion to pair up and pick a room. That was a good sign.

  Poking her head into the first room, she spotted Hailey, the shyest of the bunch, sitting on the edge of her bed, watching Townsend unpack. Townsend was kneeling in front of her own bed, facing the far wall. She removed two cartons of cigarettes, a fifth of vodka and another of gin, then set her contraband on the bedside table. “One word out of you, and I’ll cut your tongue out,” she growled, not even bothering to turn to see if the other girl was watching her.

  Oh, hell no!

  Hailey gasped when Hennessy swooped into the room and gathered up Townsend’s treasure trove in her arms. “Thanks for making this so easy,” she said, trying to sound flippant but shaking inside. Grabbing a pillow from the bed, she shook it out, and used the case to hold the illicit booty, all the while feeling a pair of green eyes staring holes through her.

  If all of that was lying right on top, there had to be more. “What else do we have here?” She whisked Townsend’s bag from the bed, and removed a phone and a tablet computer. “Nice one,” Hennessy said.

  Townsend attempted to snatch it back—to no avail.

  “You can’t take my fucking phone! How can I talk to anyone?”

  “We’re people, too, aren’t we, Hailey?” Hennessy smiled at the girl who was frozen in place. “Townsend can talk to us, right?”

  Her head moved up and down, but it was clear she feared for her life.

  “The rules say you can only use computers and phones in the rec bungalow. You can have visiting hours with your stuff—when I’ve decided that you’ve earned it. Of course, you’ll never get the liquor back. That will go to our camp director. She likes to have a gin and tonic once in a while.” Hefting the pillowcase over her shoulder, Hennessy started to leave the room, a sputtering Townsend glaring at her. “Be back in a few, guys. Time to replenish Mary Ann’s bar.”

  Her hands were shaking when she stepped into the hazy, humid sun and grabbed her two-way to call Destiny. “Cigarettes, booze, a tablet, and a phone,” she said when Destiny’s voice crackled on the line. “I’m taking it all to Mary Ann. Just wanted to let you know.”

  “All from the Bartley kid?”

  “Sure enough. I expect kids to try to sneak a phone in, but this?”

  “You’re gonna need an awfully big carrot, Hennessy. Or an extra large stick.”

  Before she left for the cabin leaders’ meeting that night, Hennessy poked her head into each of the double rooms, checking on her charges. When she reached Hailey and Townsend’s room she looked at the sullen young woman sitting on her bed, fully dressed. Hennessy walked over and held out the tablet. “I appreciate that you made it to dinner on time, and came back to the cabin early. If you want to go over to the rec bungalow, you’re welcome to use it.”

  Townsend turned up her nose. “Don’t do me any favors.”

  “Okay. I won’t.” Hennessy turned to leave the room, but she stopped when Townsend spoke.

  “The kid you’ve stuck me with told me you just graduated from high school.”

  “I did.” She turned and faced Townsend. “And I didn’t stick her with you. You picked your own roommate.”

  Townsend got up and moved to stand right in front of Hennessy. Her instinct was to back up, but showing this girl any sign of weakness was a mistake. So Hennessy stood a little taller and tried to project calm confidence.

  “I want a new house leader. An adult. You’re barely a year older than me and I’m not about to be bossed around by another kid.”

  “Can’t happen. All of the cabin leaders are around my age. But even if they weren’t, Mary Ann assigned you here and here you’ll stay.”

  For just a moment, it looked like Townsend would raise a hand. But Hennessy stared her down, unblinking. For just a second, she thought of her grandaddy’s lesson about snakes. They didn’t really want to bite you, but they would if they thought that’d get you to leave them alone. Hennessy gulped when Townsend cursed quietly and went back to her bed, where she flopped down, facing the wall. That was a good sign. A really good sign. The kid had showed her rattle, but didn’t want to sink her fangs. At least, not tonight.

  The next morning, Townsend lay in bed, deciding what to do for the day. Someone must have filled out her class preferences for her. The other dolts had been jabbering away like magpies about the struggle to get into the perfect slots. What horseshit! Like this crappy little camp in the middle of nowhere could teach any of them a damned thing. Her first choice was to blow it off and stay in bed, but with all of her stuff gone and no TV in the cabin, she’d be bored stiff.

  After propping one ankle over a raised knee, she pondered her jailer. Hennessy claimed she had full authority to punish campers for being late or not doing assigned tasks. But there was no way the warden would let a kid do that. Expensive joints like this always went out of their way to kiss ass—not kick it. But Hennessy seemed pretty serious about the threat. And god knew there were few people she’d ever met who were more earnest. Finally getting up, Townsend got her stuff and sauntered into the bathroom to shower. There was no rush to test Hennessy’s resolve.

  Townsend walked out into the already steaming hot morning, looking for something resembling a classroom building. Following a couple of girls to a cluster of cabins just beyond the mess hall, she noted that there was a sheet of paper attached to each door. She checked the list on the closest door, mulling over whether it would be fun to walk in and claim to be one Amanda Hartline. An image formed of a puzzled kid, defending her identity, along with an instructor who wasn’t sure who to believe. Kinda funny, but she chose to ditch the idea and play it straight. Too much work for this early in the day. After finding the correct cabin, she went in, flopped down in a chair, and gazed at the other students listlessly as they yakked away. At least the room wasn’t laid out like a regular classroom. More like a conference room, with comfortable, upholstered chairs set in a circle. Maybe she could nap.

  At nine on the button, Hennessy strode into the classroom. Townsend closed her eyes and let her forehead smack into her hand. The warden had probably ordered her to check that all of her assigned inmates were where they were supposed to be.

  “Morning, everyone. I’m Hennessy Boudreaux. Welcome to ‘Finding Your Voice.’”

  Was this some kind of a joke? “I’ve found my goddamned voice!” Townsend jumped to her feet, fuming. “Why in the hell is some high school kid trying to teach me how to write? Do you have any idea who my birth mother is?”

  Hennessy crooked a finger, beckoning Townsend to follow her outside.

  Kicking her chair away, Townsend pushed past Hennessy, unable to get away from her fellow students fast enough. They stood in the hot sun, with Townsend raising her hand to shield her eyes from the glare. “Those little snots couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen! I’m almost seventeen!”

  “I know that,” Hennessy said quietly. “You’re in this class because of your writing sample. We spent months looking over everyone’s work and tried to put you guys into groups based on your ability. Age is irrelevant.”

  “Age is always relevant.” She turned and stared at the door. “You’re saying those kids are the most talented writers?”

  “No, I didn’t say that.” Townsend could see her swallow. “I’m sorry to be so blunt, but your sample didn’t show much skill or promise. You write more like girls just entering high school than a senior.”

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to do a good job!”

  Hennessy quirked a slow smile. “You should always do a good job. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?”

  “You’re the first.” She leaned in, trying to make sure Hennessy heard every word. “My mother had me writing stories when most kids were still learning to tie their shoes. I tested at a high school vocabulary level when I was in second grade!”

  “It’s not a contest to see who has the best vocabulary. Some of the best writers
hardly ever use a multisyllabic word. It’s about how you put those words together—and your writing sample didn’t show you had a good idea of how to do that.”

  “I could write rings around you and every other one of these children.”

  “I’d like to see you try. Truly,” she added, her annoyingly encouraging smile enough to make Townsend blow chunks. “Andrea Jonas is going to teach the actual class. If you’d paid attention to the materials we sent out, you’d have seen I’m only leading the workshop.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Your actual class time will mostly be lecture. In the workshop, we’ll read and critique each other’s work. Today I’m only going to explain the way we’ll run the class and give everyone some pointers. No big deal.”

  She was just about to give this annoying kid a big chunk of her mind. Then she remembered it didn’t matter. “What the fuck do I care? I’m going to be on a plane this afternoon.”

  “I think that’s enough for this morning,” Hennessy said after explaining the whole setup to the girls and taking questions. “Your first real class will be tomorrow at nine. It’s probably best to wait until then to start on your first assignment, but if you’re really anxious to get going I can tell you that you’re allowed to choose any topic at all for your first exercise. Try to limit it to around a thousand words. We don’t want the assignments to take too much of your time.”

  “When will we paint?” A nervous girl named Avery asked.

  “Don’t worry about that. You’ll have plenty of time. I know writing isn’t why most of you are here, but I guarantee you’ll learn something if you stick with it.”

  “How much are you willing to bet?” Townsend said, smirking.

  Ignoring her, Hennessy continued. “You’ll all be doing college entrance essays pretty soon, and knowing how to tell a concise story will help a lot.”

  “What about those of us going to work on assembly lines?” Townsend was slumped so low in her chair her butt was almost on the floor. But she was clearly having fun now—at everyone else’s expense.

  “Writing well can help everyone.” She gave Townsend a pointed look. “Even those of you who aren’t college material.”

  A girl from Atlanta named Marissa raised her hand. “We can write about anything at all?”

  “Basically. The assignment is to write about something that moved you emotionally. I want each of you to think hard about something that happened to you in the last year that touched you in some way. It could be the death of a pet, the night you went to a great concert, staying up all night to see the sun rise—anything at all, as long as you write from your heart.” She looked around again, saying, “See you on Wednesday.”

  The six young women shuffled out, with Townsend trailing the group. “See you back at Sandpiper,” Hennessy said.

  “Super. You can carry my bags to the cab.”

  Just before lunch, Hennessy made her way over to the administration bungalow. When Hennessy knocked and entered, Mary Ann and Destiny both turned, with Mary Ann giving her a look that went from her head to her toes. “No obvious wounds yet. That’s good news.”

  “Only because Townsend’s sure she’s taking the three o’clock to Charlotte.”

  “Well, she’s not.” Mary Ann twitched her head towards the sofa. “Come on in and sit. You look wound up, girl.”

  “I guess I am.” She was going to tell them how annoying it was to have to be on guard every minute she was with Townsend, but this was her job. And no one wanted to hear anyone whine about what they were being paid good money to do. She sat by Destiny and tried to appear relaxed. That wasn’t what she was best at, so she copied Destiny’s casual pose.

  “I was just telling Destiny that I called the service that was supposed to watch Townsend.” Mary Ann’s brow was furrowed, and Hennessy now saw that she looked like she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. “I had a feeling even your considerable charms wouldn’t convince her she wanted to stay.”

  “No ma’am. I don’t have those kinds of charms. I’m not sure anyone does.”

  She nodded, then continued. “The person I spoke to seemed out of her depth when I asked how they’d handle a very headstrong sixteen-year-old. It sounded like they were more prepared to watch small children and pre-teens.”

  Destiny shrugged. “Her mom made the choice, right?”

  “She did, but I spoke with our attorney and he worries that we might be responsible if she gets in trouble after we release her.”

  “She’ll get into trouble,” Hennessy jumped in. “She had two fifths of booze and was only planning on being here a day!”

  Destiny shot her a grouchy look. “Why should we have to keep a kid who doesn’t want to be here? Her mother must trust this service. Who are we to second guess her?”

  Mary Ann let out a long breath. “I probably made a mistake in taking her. But I don’t want to compound that mistake by having her do something crazy. The kid needs structure. Lots of it.” She looked at Hennessy. “Is she ruining things for the girls in your cabin?”

  “I don’t think so. She’s so different from them they look at her like she’s…” She shrugged. “I’m not sure what they think, but they seem fascinated by her.”

  “Mrs. Bartley gave us the authority to do whatever we had to do to keep her here. What do you think, Hennessy? Can you handle her?”

  “I can,” she said, surprising herself with her confidence. “I think her bark’s much worse than her bite.”

  “If Hennessy’s willing, I’m willing,” Destiny said. “But only to make sure we don’t get sued.” Her expression slid into a smile. “Of course, I’m not the one who has to tell her she’s staying.”

  Hennessy skipped lunch, spending the time walking along the tree-shaded paths while trying to calm her nerves. She was sure she’d done just that until she noticed her hands were shaking when she caught Townsend outside the dining room. “Can I walk you back to the cabin?”

  She put her hand up to protect her eyes from the noonday sun. “Sure. You can use that radio thing to call a car service. What time should they be here?”

  “You’re not going to need a ride.” That was how her grandmother always delivered bad news. Right to the point.

  Townsend stopped and stared at her. “I do need one. I’m going home.”

  “No, you’re not,” Hennessy said, swallowing nervously. “We discussed it, and decided that letting you go home would be a bad idea.”

  “You discussed it?” she snapped, standing just inches from Hennessy’s face. “That’s wonderful. Now take your discussion and shove it up your ass. I’m leaving.” She pushed past Hennessy and started to walk, kicking up cedar chips as she did.

  Not bothering to follow her, Hennessy called out, “You can’t walk to the airport, and no one will call you a cab.”

  Townsend turned and glared at her for a full minute.

  Hennessy had witnessed the rage she saw in Townsend’s eyes too many times to count. She knew the girl was going to snap eventually. She just didn’t know how it would play out.

  Townsend’s head swiveled, searching for something. Then she bent down and grabbed a sturdy tree limb next to the path.

  Preparing to make a run for it if she lunged, Hennessy watched as the girl reared back and slammed the limb into a big tree. The whole thing shook, leaves fluttering, dust pouring off the canopy. Again and again she unleashed her anger, her sorrow, her frustration, her pain—that’s what it was. Hennessy was sure of it. It looked like anger, but it was pain. Pain the poor kid didn’t have any idea how to handle. What in the world was going on inside that head? What or who had hurt her so badly?

  Finally, the limb dropped and Townsend stood there, sweat staining her shirt, her body covered with a fine coating of dust. The air crackled with energy and the sharp scent of bruised bark. “You’ll regret this,” she croaked, her voice filled with pain.

  Hennessy already did.

  Later that night, returning to her cabin after wat
ching a movie with a few of her charges, Hennessy saw the orange glow of a cigarette not far from the edge of the building. Letting out a frustrated breath, she went inside and rooted through Townsend’s room, finally pulling her mattress from the box spring to find a fresh carton of cigarettes, one pack notably absent. Returning the mattress and bedding to their proper order, she lay down on the bed, trying to calm herself and stay that way until Townsend returned to the room.

  “Hi, there,” she said when Townsend entered.

  The girl started briefly, caught unawares. But it didn’t take long for her to summon her anger. “What do you want?”

  “I want to know who you coerced into buying cigarettes for you. It was obviously an employee, since I’m sure you didn’t walk to the store.”

  Townsend strode over to the bedside table, her confidence seemingly back in place. Hennessy caught the smell of smoke on her clothing as she walked by and deposited the pack onto the table. “It’s not hard to talk one of these underpaid slobs into doing you a favor. All it takes is a few bucks.”

  “Then I guess I have to take the bucks away.” Sitting up, Hennessy opened the top drawer of the bedside table and removed the wallet she found there.

  “You can’t do that!”

  “Yeah?” Frustration hardened her words. For the moment, at least, Townsend didn’t intimidate her. “Watch me.” Removing every bill and every charge card, she counted the money, then sat down at Townsend’s desk and made out a detailed receipt. “Here you go. Don’t count on getting this back until August.”

  As she left the room, money, credit cards, and cigarettes firmly in hand, something heavy crashed loudly into the door as she closed it behind her. She left the cabin, heading for Destiny’s. She knew she’d done the right thing, but it sure wouldn’t hurt to be able to bitch to someone—just a little.