Twenty Minutes Late

by Caroline Crane

  “I am, but I can’t let her recognize me. Oh shoot, what about my car? I’m sure she’s seen me with it.”

  Cree told her about the lilac bushes. Maddie remembered them. It was near where her car broke down. She also remembered that the leaves were falling off.

  “I hate to do this, but I’ll have to ask Ben. We can make him think we’re going to the trailer.”

  “Why would we go to the trailer? There’s nothing there.”

  “You said you spent a whole afternoon there.”

  “Not a whole afternoon. Maybe a couple of hours. I couldn’t tell him what I was really looking for.”

  “Which was?”

  She couldn’t tell Maddie, either. Maddie would laugh. It might be ridiculous, but Cree remembered the day she got dumped. As she walked with Emerson around to the parking lot, he said he was doing the lights for South Pacific. How would he know he’d be free to do them, what with his weekend job? At that point, no one knew Kip was gone. Or about to be gone. No one else, that is.

  “I think asking Ben is riskier than hiding the car.” Besides, she didn’t want him to see her in that old-lady suit. She tried putting her hair up, ballerina style. It only made her look severe.

  Maddie insisted they needed Ben. When he saw them, he laughed. “Isn’t it a little early for trick or treating?”

  Maddie gave him one of her innocent looks. “Cree wants to check on that trailer she found. We’re going in as social workers.”

  Did she really think he would buy that? He said, “What do they need social workers for?”

  Cree waved the clipboard Maddie had given her and tried to bluff through this. “We’re taking a survey. That’s our cover.”

  “What’s wrong with your car?” he asked Maddie. “You said it was fixed. Don’t you trust it?”

  “Uh—I’m a little nervous. I don’t want to get stuck there again. We don’t plan to be long. You can pick us up in about an hour. If we’re done sooner, we’ll start walking.”

  In heels? Cree gave him a reassuring smile and hoped he believed them. Without a word, he put his computer to sleep and got out his keys. He must have wanted to see what they were really up to.

  They drove past Velda’s house. Again, he paid no attention.

  They passed A. Santiago. Cree looked hard, saw nothing, and tried to ignore the butterflies. They were everywhere.

  He stopped when he reached the trailer. It was where he had almost died. Cree couldn’t tell if he was thinking of that. He asked, “How long will you be here?”

  “Maybe an hour or two,” Maddie said. “If you could come back then—”

  “I don’t want to go home and come back. It’s too much interruption. Or I might get busy and forget. I’ll wait here and read my physics book.”

  Maddie wanted him gone, not waiting. “Really, we don’t want to keep you. I’d feel so guilty.”

  “You are guilty. Just don’t take more than an hour.”

  Cree looked down the trailer’s driveway at the woods on both sides. The strip between the trailer and Kelsey’s house was more than a strip, almost a forest. They could start down the driveway and try cutting through it. Chances were, they’d be ripped to pieces. Goodbye, pantyhose.

  Ben got out of the truck and stood with his arms folded. “Go on. Get started so we can have this over with.”

  He did know what they were doing. Cree felt ashamed that they were trying to fool him, even though it was for his sake. They might have to go to the trailer after all. How to explain to Lina?

  As before, all the blinds were closed. They might be able to go around in back where Ben couldn’t see them. But then there was that forest to get through.

  She whispered to Maddie, “We’ll have to fake it,” and started down the driveway. Maddie took a few tentative steps. The way was unpaved, full of ruts, and hard to walk on in heels. Cree said, “We might be able to get through those trees.”

  Maddie stopped. “No way. It’s a jungle.” She looked back at Ben, who stood watching. “Anyway, he’d see us. Why won’t he just go home?”

  “Because,” said Cree, “he suspects us. I knew it was a bad idea asking him.”

  “I didn’t hear you come up with a better one.”

  A better one would have been Maddie’s car. How would Kelsey know unless she was out on her horse? Even then, why would she give a thought to Maddie?

  They took a few more steps. Cree tried to see if there was any way through the woods. As she suspected, it was a tangle of brush and brambles.

  They hadn’t gone far when Ben caught up with them. “What’s really going on here?”

  Maddie flushed, which gave her away more than anything. “Ben, why don’t you go home and come back later? I’ll call you when we’re ready.”

  He almost smiled. “You could have said you were trick or treating. I might have believed it, the two of you decked out like that. If you go anywhere near that girl, I’m the one who pays. Get in the truck. Now!”

  Cree looked down at the dirt and pebbles under her feet. This canceled any of the rapport she’d felt with Ben.

  Maddie held firm. “What are you talking about? I already told you. Why do you think you know what we’re doing?”

  “I know exactly what you’re doing. Get in now or you can walk home.” He started back toward the truck.

  Maddie put out a hand to stop Cree from following. “He wouldn’t really.”

  Ben got into the truck, looked back at them once, then sped off in a cloud of dust and smoke.

  “He’ll come back.” Maddie sounded uncertain.

  Cree looked up at the cloud-covered sky. “It’s going to rain and we’re miles from anywhere, looking like idiots.”

  “We look like social workers.”

  “I feel like an idiot. And social workers usually have transportation.”

  “Think of it as a temporary setback,” Maddie said. “We came this far, let’s carry on. Now he’s out of the way, we can walk around by the road.”

  As they passed the two stone pillars that marked Kelsey’s driveway, Cree’s butterflies attacked in full force. “I’m scared.”

  “Of Kelsey? She’s a wimp. Anyhow, we have to do this. They’re bringing charges.”

  “I know that. You told me.” Cree knew more than Maddie, even if she didn’t know what the charges were. “Why can’t they drop the whole thing now that he’s out of there?”

  “Because of their stupid egos. They’re afraid of looking weak. It all goes back to when they had to fight saber-toothed tigers. Back then, testosterone must have had a purpose and they haven’t evolved since.”

  Cree guessed she was thinking of Evan. It was hard to imagine Ben having destructive ego problems, even though he was perfectly masculine. So maybe there was some truth to her theory that people with Asperger’s were more evolved, further away from ape-men.

  The driveway was lined with neatly trimmed evergreens, a manicured contrast to what was just beyond them.

  The house itself was stately, with a colonnaded portico and the turret rising above it. The only thing out of symmetry was the sun porch jutting to the left. It must have been added later. At ground level, the trailer was obscured by trees.

  Cree shivered. “Did you ever get stage-fright?”

  “Relax,” said Maddie. “We’re a professional outfit doing an important project. You can bring in your cousin if you want to. You’re a genius, Cree.”

  Flattery didn’t get rid of the butterflies. She tried to focus on all this being over with even if it meant a long walk back to Maddie’s house. She was sure Ben’s threat to leave them there had not been idle.

  With the portico and the colonnades, it was like entering an ancient temple. Now she knew what a sacrificial victim must feel like.

  Maddie said, “Ready?” and lifted the heavy brass knocker.

  It echoed through the house. A dog barked.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Quickly Cree reviewed her story. Lucretia Culpepper,
social worker. Taking a survey. About what? Oh, yes. Childhood trauma.

  The door clicked. Someone was at the peephole. She tried not to look at it.

  A voice called, “Who is it?”

  “It’s, um, Lucretia Culpepper. And my assistant. We’re doing a—” The person might think a door-to-door survey was obnoxious “An important project. We hope you can help us with it.” That, too, might seem obnoxious. Or it just might arouse curiosity.

  The door opened. There she was, a slender figure with curly silver-blond hair. She held a large black dog by its collar.

  “Good afternoon,” said Cree, and hoped Maddie was still there, somewhere in back of her. “Is Kelsey Fritz at home?”

  “I’b Kelsey Fritz.” The girl blew her nose on a ragged tissue. “I have a cold. You’d better dot cub id.”

  “It’s okay, I’ve had my shots.” For a cold? The butterflies affected her brain.

  “My name is Lucretia Culpepper. I talked to your sister a while ago about this, um, project we’re doing.”

  Kelsey backed, still holding the dog. “I have a cold. A bad one.”

  “You’re right, it does sound bad.” Cree caught the door before it closed. She was surprised Kelsey opened it at all. The dog must have given her courage.

  “It’s drafty here. You should stay out of drafts.” She pushed her way in without seeming to push. Maddie followed. They were past the first hurdle. Cree said, “Is there someplace where we can talk? Just for a couple of minutes.”

  The dog growled. It was a massive German shepherd.

  “Isn’t he beautiful. Or is it a she?” Cree held out her hand. The dog sniffed it, smelling Jasper.

  Kelsey went rigid. Here were two strangers pushing their way into her home and the dog acted friendly. Didn’t she trust its judgment? How could she be afraid of someone who got along with dogs? Someone in a dowdy purple suit.

  They didn’t have time to waste. Cree spoke quickly. “As I was saying, I talked to your sister the other day about this project we’re doing. She was very interested.”

  Kelsey sneezed twice, but remained stiff and wary. What was it about her that so attracted Ben? She was pretty, in a fragile sort of way, and pale. Her lips were pale, her nose red. Cree believed it about the cold.

  Kelsey had an all-over pearly look and a tall, slender shape, almost no bust or hips. It was the opposite of Cree’s own hourglass figure, the eighteen-nineties chorus girl.

  She asked again, “Is there someplace where we can talk, just for a minute? How about that lovely sun porch I saw from outside?”

  Kelsey didn’t move. “You know my sister?”

  “Only slightly. I was at her house the other day. Sweetie, you really should sit down and take it easy. I’ll let you show me the way.”

  “I still do’t utterstad.”

  “Oh, silly me, I forgot to introduce myself.” She knew she hadn’t forgotten. “I’m Lucretia Culpepper. This is my, um—associate, Mabel Williams.”

  She could see part of the sun porch beyond the living room and started toward it. Kelsey hurried after her, still holding the dog.

  The porch had three walls of louvered windows, a daybed, and several rattan chairs with pastel cushions. Cree chose aqua and let Maddie have the pink one because Maddie liked pink. Kelsey hovered in the doorway and finally took a seat on the daybed.

  “What a lovely room,” said Cree. “It looks so comfortable. I’ll bet you spend a lot of time here.”

  “Dot really,” Kelsey said through her stuffed nose.

  Maddie rolled her eyes toward the window, reminding Cree to hurry up before the parents came home. Kelsey watched her as though trying to figure out who she was.

  Cree said, “I don’t want to intrude, but it’s all in a good cause. We’re hoping the end result can help a lot of people.” She held the clipboard on her lap and gave the same story she had given Velda, but left out any mention of a college course.

  “Among other things, we’re doing a study on childhood trauma and whether it goes on affecting people later in life. Your sister said you had a bad experience when you were small. She said it was a dream, but it must have—”

  Kelsey tightened her fist, making a ball of the tissue. “It was dot a dreab! It really happened!”

  The dog growled. Kelsey relaxed just a little, but seemed paler than before.

  Cree moved the chair closer, to take her hand. The dog growled a warning. She sat back quickly. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  Kelsey shook her head and blotted her nose.

  “Did you ever discuss it with anyone besides your sister?”

  “Of course dot.”

  “It might help to talk it over.”

  “It’s dobody’s busidess. I almost forgot till you brought it up.”

  She could blame Velda for that and probably would.

  “A lot of times,” said Cree, “we think we’ve forgotten something but it’s still buried deep inside. That’s what this project is about. The event is still part of the person and it can color their whole life.”

  She wasn’t doing badly at all, and went on, “It can affect how you process things in later years.”

  Maddie gave her a stealthy wink. Encouraged, Cree kept up the pressure. “Your sister said you—”

  “I do’t want to talk about it!” Kelsey sneezed into her tissue.

  “Does it bring it up too vividly?”

  Another wink from Maddie.

  Kelsey shook her head and looked down at the tiled floor. Velda might have told her she shouldn’t be dreaming about naked men. Velda wasn’t so old herself at the time, maybe nine or ten. She might have been dumb enough to lay a guilt trip on top of a nightmare.

  “It was real.” Kelsey sniffled and dabbed at her eyes. “It was dot a dreab, I do’t care what Velda says.”

  Cree wondered if it could have been her father. Those things happened, as they did to Stacie Marr. It might be that Kelsey couldn’t deal with it and turned him into a stranger.

  “Did you see the man’s face?” Cree asked.

  “I do’t doh if he had a face.”

  He might have covered it, or she didn’t look. Or it could have been all blurry and dreamlike.

  “Your sister said you were sleeping here in the sun porch. It might not be as farfetched as she thinks. Was he right next to your bed? Or outside the window?”

  Kelsey blew her nose. “There was a skeletod, too. He had a skeletod.”

  “How did he have it? Was it part of him, like an X-ray? Or something he carried?”

  Kelsey moaned and then sobbed. Cree handed her a packet of tissues from Grandma’s purple handbag. With the dog’s permission, she moved to the daybed and put her arm around the girl.

  Maddie erupted. “That’s it? That’s all that happened? And you—”

  “M-Mary Margaret!” Cree forgot the name she had given her. Maddie backed down.

  “Please excuse my friend.” Cree hoped Kelsey hadn’t recognized the voice. “She’s had traumas of her own and she gets emotional. Are you going to be okay? I’m sorry if I upset you. It really might help if you talk this over with someone, like a school counselor. It makes a person feel better if they can explore these things and get them resolved.”

  Kelsey pulled a tissue from the packet and patted her face, mopped her red nose. Maddie edged toward the door, looking sheepish.

  Cree stood up. “Thanks so much for your help. I hope your cold goes away real soon. Why don’t you get in bed and take it easy? Have some hot tea or lemonade. Or chicken soup. It works because the steam goes up your nose and clears it out. That’s what my grandma says.”

  Kelsey sniffled. Cree gave her a quick hug. It was impossible to hate her now in spite of what she did to Ben.

  Outside, the air was fresh, the sky cloudy. Maddie apologized for losing control. “The whole thing is just so stupid. One stupid dream and she goes and ruins Ben’s life.”

  It came closer to ending Ben’s life than Maddie knew. Cr
ee’s charitable feeling evaporated.

  She tried to see all sides. “There might be more to it and she might be a nervous person to start with. People can have all sorts of problems. And don’t forget the pervert at the movies.”

  “If she has problems, why can’t she be more understanding of Ben? He’s had problems all his life. Much worse than she ever did.”

  “When a person has problems,” said Cree, “it’s hard for them to see past it and worry about somebody else.”

  “Don’t make excuses for the bitch. Hey, as long as we’re here, let’s take a quick look at the horses. Then we’ll figure out how to get home.”

  Maddie started around toward the back of the house. Some distance away, past the sun porch and up a grassy slope, part of a rail fence was visible, and at least two horses.

  Cree had no interest in the horses unless they had a wagon or a buckboard attached. “I’m going to run next door and see if I can get hold of my grandma. I’ll meet you out on the road.”

  She walked around by Fremont and down the trailer’s rough driveway. Lina’s car was still there and she must have a telephone. Too late, Cree remembered that Maddie had one, too. She hoped Lina wouldn’t hold a grudge for the time she ran off with Davy.

  The door had no bell. She pounded on it. After what seemed like days, a shuffling came from inside.

  Lina stared and blinked. She didn’t have on her granny glasses.

  “Oh, hi!” said Cree. “I’m your neighbor, remember? I mean Olive’s neighbor, Cree Penny, from across the street. I hate to bother you, but I was out with a friend of mine and we lost our ride. If it’s not too much trouble, could I use your phone?”

  “Uh—sure. How did you know I live here?”

  “Would you believe it? I recognized your car.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Just wait here a second while I pick up a few things.”

  “You don’t have to clean up for—”

  The door closed.

  “—me.”

  Cree waited, and watched for Maddie out on Fremont. Today no insects buzzed in the meadow and no sun shone on it. There was only a heavy gray sky. Ben couldn’t leave them out in the rain.

  Lina opened the door and gave her a dimply smile. “Sorry to make you wait. My husband leaves his undies all over for people to trip on. You know how men are.”