Orphans 05 Runaways

by V. C. Andrews

  That first night we all ate dinner early. I asked Patsy where Danny was. She didn't know and I was sorry I had asked. It brought darkness to her eyes. By the time we were ready to greet our dinner customers, Danny appeared. He wasn't exactly cleaned up, but he had changed his shirt to a newer, fresher-looking tee shirt with the words Lions 5, Christians 0 on the front, and a pair of less faded and grubby-looking jeans. He wore the same grungy sneakers and no socks. Some attempt had been made to brush his hair back and he had shaved.

  Not only had he avoided all the dinner preparations, but it was quickly apparent that he wasn't there to work.

  "It doesn't look like you'll need me here tonight, Ma. I'm going out with Terry and Mark," he announced. Before Patsy could respond, he added, "I need ten bucks."

  He marched right to the register, took out a ten, glared my way, and then closed it.

  Okay?" he said to Patsy.

  She wiped a dish and looked down.

  "Where are you going, Danny?"

  "I said out," he replied. "Out's out. Right?" he said, challenging me.

  "Well, there's far out, there's out of the way and there's out of your mind," I responded.

  Raven laughed.

  "Very funny," he said. "Remind me to laugh."

  "Is your memory that gone?" I countered.

  He glared and then marched out of the restaurant. When I looked back at Charlie, I saw a wide smile on his face, but Patsy looked despondent.

  "We'll be all right, Patsy," I told her. "If it gets too busy, I'll send for Crystal."

  "I'm not worried," she said. "I've often had to do it all. Just me and Charlie manning the old fort, right, Charlie?"

  "Yes, ma'am," he said, "and we ain't had no one leave unsatisfied. That's the truth," Charlie told us.

  The customers began to stream in. Charlie's meat loaf was the favorite choice. Patsy had it up as the night's special, but from what we heard that was always the night's special and rightly so. It was delicious. To our amazement, the restaurant filled up within the first half hour. Crystal and Butterfly saw what was happening and came rushing over. I told Patsy Crystal could work the register if she liked. She thought that was fine. Butterfly pitched in busing tables, and soon we had things well under control.

  However, Raven quickly found herself the object of attention and began to feed off it, stopping at tables to flirt and talk. Taylor Cummings, who had attracted her attention earlier in the day and asked her for a date, reappeared. Now that I looked at him more closely, I saw he was a good-looking man of about ty; thirty-five with long, reddish-blond hair and impish blue eyes. I had to admit that his smile could melt ice.

  Patsy stepped beside me to whisper.

  "They call him The Love Dozer because he's crushed so many young hearts. Tell Raven to be very careful," she warned.

  I couldn't think of a more futile thing than trying to advise Raven when it came to love and romance Every time I passed by her, I commented on how busy it was and how we sure could use some help.

  "Be right there," she kept saying, but it was as if Taylor Cummings held her in orbit. Even when she left his table, she was drawn back to him repeatedly.

  "He's coming back for me in an hour," she told me when he finally paid his check and left the restaurant. "We're going dancing," she declared.

  "You don't know him. How can you go out on a date with a complete stranger?" I turned to Crystal for help, but she simply shook her head. "Raven?"

  "I'll be all right," she assured me. "I've been out with strangers before, Brooke."

  "But we're on the road, Raven. We're . . . helpless."

  "Maybe you're helpless," she said with a cold, arrogant smile, "but when it comes to men, I'm not, not ever."

  There really wasn't anything else to do. I put it out of my mind

  By the end of the evening, Patsy was getting tons of compliments on how smoothly and quickly the dinner hours had gone. Looking at the receipts, she said because they were able to turn over more tables, they had made more money that evening than they had in a very long time.

  "You girls are a blessing from heaven!" she declared.

  After the last customer left and we were alone, we all sat at a table, resting and having some of Charlie's apple pie. Patsy felt the need to apologize for Danny's behavior earlier.

  "I'm really at my wit's end about what to do about him. I know he's headed for serious trouble."

  "Danny's suffering from a low self-image," Crystal began. Patsy looked up at her and I thought, uh oh, here we go. "I don't know what his relationship with his father was like, but you told us that he became more of a problem after your husband's death. He probably felt inadequate, unable to fill your husband's shoes and be half the man he was. Rather than struggle with the anxiety, he gave up and went completely in the opposite direction, giving in to his weaknesses in order to live with them, so to speak," Crystal lectured. "It's a classic psychological defense mechanism, especially in teenagers."

  Patsy stared at her with her mouth agape. "How do you know so much?" she asked. "Crystal's a genius," Butterfly declared with pride.

  "She was first in her class and probably would have been class valedictorian," Raven added.

  "What do you mean, probably would have been?" Patsy asked quickly. If she didn't catch the way we shifted our eyes, she had the perception of a stone, I thought.

  "She means probably will be," Crystal corrected. "Don't you, Raven?"

  "Oh, yes." Raven offered, laughing nervously. "I always make mistakes with grammar. If it wasn't for Crystal's help, I would fail English every year."

  Patsy, however, still studied the four of us with a little more suspicion.

  "Did you call your folks and let them know where you'll be for a while?"

  "Yes," Crystal said, jumping into the role of spokesman. "We didn't exactly tell them we had been robbed though," she added. Hearing Crystal confess to a little deception appeared to go a long way at easing Patsy's doubts about us. She smiled the smile of understanding.

  "Well, I expect you girls will make back that money pretty quickly here. How'd you all do?" "I made forty-one dollars," I said.

  "I made thirty-three," Raven said. I saw she was wondering why I had made more.

  "Just do less talking and more working," I joked. Raven smiled sheepishly.

  "Well now, that's good, and with the wages I'm paying you two," she said to Crystal and Butterfly, "you won't have to wait too long to be on your way again. I can see I'll miss you, so maybe I should hope for slow days."

  We laughed along with her, but deep inside ourselves, it wasn't funny; it wasn't cute. If she only knew how much we needed to be wanted like this, she'd understand why it wasn't something we took lightly.

  Suddenly, we heard a horn beeping outside. Raven jumped to her feet.

  "That must be Taylor!" she cried, throwing off her apron as she went to the door. "It is him! You guys won't really worry if I go, will you? I'll be fine. Honest." She was so happy none of us wanted to burst her bubble.

  When I saw the look of grave concern on Patsy's face, though, I knew I had to warn Raven, even if it meant she'd be angry with me. I ran outside and called out to her before she reached Taylor's truck.

  "What's wrong?" she asked.

  "You better be extra careful, Raven. Patsy says that Taylor is a ladies' man."

  Disappointment darkened her face. "No, I don't believe it. He's been so nice, nicer than other boys I've dated."

  "But he's not a boy, he's a man, Raven, and Patsy wouldn't lie."

  She thought about that for a minute. "You're right, she wouldn't. But I have to give myself the chance to find out. Why is it so hard for everyone to believe that someone could actually be interested in me, not just in my looks?" Her voice caught in her throat and she turned to run the rest of the way to the truck.

  Late that night Raven returned to our little cottage, where all of us were up and waiting anxiously. We all let out a collective breath when we saw the tiny smile
on Raven's face as she came through the door.

  "Hey, what are all you worrywarts doing up? I thought we left curfew behind at Lakewood House," she joked.

  "We just wanted to make sure you were okay, that Taylor hadn't been a jerk or anything," Crystal spoke up for us all.

  "Well you can all go to sleep now, because Taylor was a perfect gentleman, just like I knew he would be. He likes me. For real. And I really like him too." Humming softly, Raven walked into the bathroom and began to wash up for bed.

  Crystal, Butterfly and I all looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders. As it turned out, Taylor Cummings wasn't a problem. Yet.

  Early the next morning, even before the sun lit

  up the makeshift curtains I had improvised, I heard

  Butterfly's moaning. Crystal was in a deep sleep and

  apparently hadn't heard. I knew Raven could have a

  fire truck roar past her bed and she wouldn't even

  flutter her eyelashes, especially after coming in so

  late. I listened again and heard the moan repeated,

  only deeper and longer. I rose and walked over to the

  bed.

  "Butterfly?"

  She coughed.

  "My eyes ache," she told me.

  Crystal stirred. I turned on the lamp. As soon as

  my eyes grew accustomed to the light, I gasped.

  "Crystal!"

  "What?" She sat up quickly and looked down at

  Butterfly. Her nose was running, she was grimacing

  with pain, but her cheeks were blotched red. Crystal

  put her palm on Butterfly's forehead. "She's burning

  up," she told me.

  "Wha . . . what's happening?" Raven called. "It

  can't be time to get up. It just can't be."

  "Butterfly's sick," I shouted and turned to Crystal. "What's wrong with her?"

  Butterfly coughed again and sniffed. Without

  replying, Crystal went to the bathroom and wet down

  a washcloth. She brought it back and put it on

  Butterfly's forehead.

  "Where does it hurt, Butterfly?" she asked

  quietly. Raven appeared in the doorway, finally

  realizing what was happening around her.

  "What is it? What's wrong with her?"

  "My eyes hurt," Butterfly said. "Here," she

  added indicating where they ached.

  Crystal opened Butterfly's shirt and looked at

  her chest and stomach.

  "Do you know what's wrong with her?" I asked.

  "I think so," Crystal said.

  "What?" Raven demanded impatiently. Crystal looked at us. "I think she's got the

  measles."

  "The measles! Oh no," Raven said. And then

  her eyes filled with fear. "Will we all get it?" "I won't. I had it."

  "So did I," I said. "Raven?"

  "I'm not sure. I can't remember if it was the

  measles or the chicken pox," she said in a panic. "If you get it, you get it," Crystal said stoically. "You're better off getting it over with," she

  added. "But isn't it a kid's disease?"

  "No," Crystal said. "Adults can get measles if

  they never had them as children."

  Butterfly moaned again.

  "I don't feel good," she cried.

  "What do we do, Crystal?" I asked.

  "There isn't much to do. Keep her comfortable,

  get some acetaminophen . . ."

  "What's that?" Raven asked.

  "It's just Tylenol."

  "Well, why don't you just say what it is then?"

  she said.

  "That's what it is," Crystal replied coolly. "Stop

  arguing about it. We don't have any, do we?" I asked. "Maybe Patsy does," Crystal said. "She should

  be up in about an hour."

  "Do you think she'll make us leave?" Raven

  asked. "Do we have to tell her?"

  "I don't think she would do that," I said. "What

  do you think, Crystal?"

  She considered while Butterfly squirmed with

  her discomfort, coughed and sniveled before moaning. "She might want us to take her to a doctor and

  that could create problems," Crystal said. "Maybe

  Raven's right. Maybe we shouldn't tell Patsy anything just yet, Brooke. We'll just say she's got a headache and a little cold. If she comes in here and sees Butterfly like this she's liable to figure out it's the

  measles."

  I nodded.

  "Being a mother herself, she probably went

  through this with Danny boy," I said. "But do you

  think it could be something else, Crystal?" I asked.

  "Something more serious?"

  "We'll have to watch and see. If it is . . that's it,"

  she added. "Once we take her to a hospital emergency

  room or a doctor, we have to have a guardian or

  parent."

  "Oh no," Raven spoke for us all.

  "We'll need a thermometer so we can watch her

  fever," Crystal continued. "If it goes up too high . . ." "Why don't I get dressed and look for a drugstore," I offered.

  "It's too early, but sometimes gas stations with

  convenience stores sell Tylenol," Crystal said. "I'll go looking around," I said, happy to be able

  to do something to help Butterfly.

  After I washed my face and dressed, I left and

  went looking for an open store. The sun was coming

  up now. It was really the best part of the day. I imagined the earth itself opening its eyes, greeting the warm kiss of light, shedding the blanket of shadows, drinking in the radiance. The small village nearby was still waking up; all I saw in the streets were a few wandering dogs, sniffing around for breakfast. On the other side of the village, however, there was a selfservice gas station and inside the little office area were coin operated machines that contained aspirin

  and Tylenol as well as stomach antacids.

  Good old Crystal, I thought. She predicted it.

  She was really a very smart person and it gave me

  confidence and a sense of security to have someone

  with her thinking power in our little family I had faith

  in her diagnosis of Butterfly, too. She wanted to be a

  doctor more than anything and spent most of her

  leisure hours studying as if she were already in

  medical school. Her appetite for knowledge never

  ended.

  By the time I returned, Patsy and Charlie had

  started working in the restaurant. Crystal had gotten

  Raven to go over there first, so Patsy wouldn't think

  anything was amiss. One thing about Crystal, she was

  always anticipating potential trouble. The tragedy of

  Sunshine was the best example I would ever have, I

  thought. I wouldn't ignore her warnings again. I brought in the Tylenol and she gave Butterfly

  two tablets.

  "She isn't going to be all that hungry, but we'll

  bring her juice and fluids to drink all morning," she

  said. "For now, let's get to the restaurant. You go and

  I'll follow. I want to make Butterfly as comfortable as

  I can before I leave. I want to sponge her down and

  see if I can help reduce her fever, too."

  "Right, Doc," I said and Crystal smiled and

  then looked very serious.

  "This could be it, Brooke."

  "I know, but Butterfly's health is the most important thing."

  Patsy was curious about Butterfly, of course,

  but when Crystal arrived, she did a good job of

  making Butterfly's problems sound insignificant. "She's been fighting a cold for days. I told her

  bed rest, lots of liquids and some hot oatmeal would

  help," Crystal said as if she
had already acquired the

  medical degree she dreamed of having.

  Patsy nodded, looking from her to me and

  Raven.

  "It's very nice the way you girls look after each

  other. It's almost as if you've been together for years

  and years," she remarked. "You're more like sisters

  than friends."

  I nearly gave it away when she said that. I had

  to look down quickly.

  Crystal didn't want to ask her for a

  thermometer. She was afraid that might stir up her

  concern, so as soon as the breakfast rush was over, I

  went back to town, stopped at a drugstore and bought

  one.

  When we took her temperature, we found

  Butterfly had a fever of a hundred and one. By the late

  afternoon, it went to a hundred and two.

  "And that's with Tylenol," Crystal reminded us.

  "She's having a hard time."

  Crystal and I continued to sponge Butterfly

  down. Raven was terrified of getting too close to her

  and continued to shiver with the thought that she

  would soon be following in Butterfly's footsteps. She

  racked her brain trying to remember if she'd had

  measles, but she just couldn't remember.

  "You should probably stay away just in case,

  Raven," Crystal warned her. "We can't afford to have

  both of you get sick."

  Suddenly, we heard a knock on the door.

  Everyone froze.

  "It's Patsy!" I said peering through the improvised curtains.

  Crystal told Butterfly to turn over on her side

  and pretend to be in a deep sleep. Then she opened the

  door.

  "How's she doing?" Patsy asked.

  "She's sleeping comfortably," Crystal said. "Poor little dear. Let me know if there's

  anything you need. If you want to take her to a doctor,

  I'll call my physician and get you an appointment.