“She was our anchor,” the woman next to Lauren said as she stood. “I’m Katie, Lauren’s sister. I’ve heard all about you from Dad. Thank you for helping him at the hospital.”
“He really loved your mom,” Aja said. “I wish I could have done more.”
Aja took a seat next to Janie on the couch. She sat with the family and listened to them tell stories of happier times. Vacations they’d taken, holidays they’d celebrated. Every now and then, Mr. Jensen would smile, remembering, but Aja could practically feel his suffering pain.
“What am I going to do without her?” Mr. Jensen asked his daughters.
By now, the young kids were getting restless, so Aja took them into the kitchen and gave them some treats. Janie was right: the kitchen was filled with food. Covered casseroles, cakes, cookies, there was enough to feed everybody in the retirement home for weeks.
Aja put as much food away as would fit into the fridge. She went into the living room to say goodbye. It was after ten o’clock, and she still had homework to do.
“I’m going to head out,” Aja said. “I’ll come visit tomorrow after work.”
Janie stood. “Yeah, I’m going to go, too. Try to get some sleep, Mr. Jensen.”
He nodded but didn’t move. Lauren and Katie stood to see them out.
“Thanks, you two. We’ll have to make funeral arrangements tomorrow. I just can’t stand to think of dad here alone. They were inseparable.”
Aja turned to go, saddened by the loss of this family. A family she really didn’t know but felt an odd compassionate connection to.
Chapter 17
For the next few days, Aja barely kept up with school and work. Her mom wanted her to file a restraining order and complaint against the creepy police officer right away. She was thankful she’d not seen him around.
Mrs. Jensen’s funeral was the next day, on Friday. Aja wanted to go, but couldn’t miss any more school. She went to see Mrs. Burnett to ask if she could miss her last two classes so she could attend.
“How well do you know the Jensens?” Mrs. Burnett asked as she ushered Aja into her office.
“That’s what’s so weird; I don’t really know them at all. I just met them at the retirement home. I really feel sorry for Mr. Jensen.”
“Did you know Leigh Jensen taught English here? Her daughter Lauren and I were classmates,” Mrs. Burnett said, smiling. “I was one of Leigh’s favorite students.”
“You were?”
“Steven Jensen taught physics. I never had his class, but all his students loved him. His experiments were legendary.”
“Wow, that’s pretty cool. To look at the pictures of them when they were younger is strange, like they’re completely different people. I’ve only seen them as old people; it’s hard to think of them as being anything else.” Aja leaned back in her chair. “I’ve never lost anyone close to me. He seemed so sad and, I don’t know, helpless.”
“So you’re not all tough-as-nails as you want us to think,” Mrs. Burnett said. “I always knew there was more to you.”
Aja became defensive. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m still the same rude girl you’ve always known.”
“I won’t tell anyone you harbor a nice side. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Aja stood to leave. “I don’t need to go to the funeral. I just sort of wanted to.”
“Let me check with your teachers. You’re really on a thin thread, and to miss any school would be tough. If it were a family member, there would be no problem.” Mrs. Burnett stood and opened the door. “Get your assignments today, and I’ll try to sweet-talk the staff.”
“Thanks, but on second thought, maybe I shouldn’t go. You’re right; I don’t know anything about the family. It’s probably a little creepy that I even wanted to.” Aja turned and ran out before Mrs. Burnett could say anything else.
Later, at work, Aja scooped salad on cold plates and worked math problems at the same time. She was just about caught up on her assignments, but she had overextended her absences. She was disappointed, but okay with not going to the funeral.
Janie rushed into the kitchen still tying her apron. “Hey, kiddo, Edna Jones wants to see you. Is everything okay here?”
“Yeah, I think so. Why does she want to see me?” Aja closed her book and pushed it aside.
“I don’t know. She seemed pretty hot under the collar though.” Janie stacked the salads on trays.
“Should I wait until after the dinner rush?” Aja asked.
“No, Gabe and I can handle it. She said for you to get over there pronto.”
Now what, Aja thought. She felt like she’d been called into the principal’s office in front of a classroom of students. Not uncommon for her, but always embarrassing.
She took her apron off as she walked and haphazardly folded it. Edna was standing outside her office door with Mrs. Poston and a security guard.
Mrs. Poston waved a crooked finger at her. “Take her in now.”
Edna moved in front of Mrs. Poston. “I’ll handle this, Bea.” She walked right up to Aja and handed her a document. “You have been terminated from Golden Leaves assisted living home and are never welcome back here again. Here’s your first and last check. This security officer will escort you out.”
“Wh-what? Why?” Aja stammered. “What did I do?”
“You stole my jewelry, you little thief.” Mrs. Poston’s finger continued to wag in the air. “You knew where my key was, even came into my apartment, and you were skulking around here the other night.” Mrs. Poston took a step toward Aja. “I’m pressing charges against you, you tramp.”
“I didn’t take your jewelry. What are you talking about?”
“You were looking at my things, I’ll bet scouting for loot.”
Edna pointed to the front door. “There is an officer waiting to take you to the station where you’ll be questioned.”
“Can I use the handcuffs, Miss Edna?” the security officer asked, hopefully.
“No, I’m sure Officer Richards can take care of that.” Edna looked toward the door.
Aja felt a cold fear run down her spine. Freddy Kruger was standing next to his car, a scary smile on his thin lips. Aja remembered reading once about a dog trainer and how he chose dogs by the way they tracked the target with their keen eyes, never letting the mark out of their site. How they honed in for the kill. Aja thought the same about the officer.
“I won’t go with him. I’m filing a restraining order against that guy.” She turned to Mrs. Poston. “I don’t know what you have against me, old lady, but I didn’t steal anything from you. You asked me, no, demanded that I come in and help you. My life would be better if you…” Aja stopped before she said, “drop dead.” Lauren Jensen stood near the mailboxes across the lobby, watching. “I didn’t do it,” Aja cried.
“You have a criminal record,” Edna said.
Aja saw Freddy Kruger step toward the front door.
“I’m not going with him. He’s been following and harassing me.”
“That’s the man you were smooching all over in the dining hall,” Mrs. Poston retorted. “Stop lying. You’re only digging yourself in deeper.”
Aja looked at her, helpless. No matter where she went, she was the kid that the finger pointed to. New kid, juvenile delinquent, freak. Never normal. She panicked as Freddy walked into the lobby. Like a hunted animal, Aja turned and took flight, nearly running through Kendall and Walker.
“Aja! What’s going on?” Walker yelled after her.
She bolted down a long hallway, bracing herself for the bark of a gunshot and a bullet piercing her back. She heard jingling behind her, probably Freddy running after her. She didn’t know, wouldn’t turn around, and she ran as fast as she could through an emergency exit door. A loud buzz sounded as she ran to the back parking lot. There was an empty loading dock and a few cars parked in the small lot. Her car was on the other side of the building closer to the dining room where she’d left her purse
and books.
Behind the parking lot was a creek. She ran toward the trees and took cover just as she heard the door slam open.
Chapter 18
It was getting dark and Aja continued along the creek bed heading, she hoped, toward home. She needed to call her mom and warn her about what had happened, she was sure the police were there waiting and telling her mom about Aja being a thief.
It took more than an hour to get close to her subdivision. She was starving, sweating and exhausted. At her house, she saw a police car parked in front. Too tired to face them, she decided to backtrack and go into a grocery store nearby and see if she could borrow someone’s cell phone to call her mom.
Walking into the store, Aja looked around for a friendly face. A security guard took note of her and began to follow.
Damn, damn. Do I look like a criminal? Aja wondered. Then realized she was dirty and smeared with mud from her creek trek. She dug in her pockets for money and only came up with three dollars and some change. Aja headed to the deli counter, suddenly craving a turkey and cheese sandwich on a crusty French roll. She ordered just enough meat and cheese to make a sandwich but stay under the three bucks. After she paid, she went to the little café there and made a sandwich. Her mouth watered as she globbed mayo on the bread. She piled on the meat and cheese and wrapped it in a napkin. She couldn’t wait to take a crunchy bite but when she noticed the security officer still eyeing her, she decided to eat outside.
She threw her shoulders back and walked right past him. He didn’t say anything but followed a few paces behind. He left her after she exited the store.
By now the scent of the bread was making Aja’s tummy grumble. She went to sit on a bench, but it was already occupied by a homeless man. More ragged and dirty than Aja.
“Got any spare change?” the man asked.
Aja reached in her pocket. Thirteen cents. “It’s all I have.”
“You keep it.” The man said, eyeing Aja’s sandwich.
Aja hesitated. No, not the sandwich. But the man was so thin. Who knew when his last meal was? She looked longingly at the turkey and cheese falling from the bread and handed the man the sandwich.
“Nah, really?” he asked.
“Yeah, whatever, go ahead.” Aja then wished she’d at least torn it in half.
The man took the sandwich. “Thanks,” he said as he hurriedly walked away, biting a hunk of bread as he left.
“Well, wasn’t that a nice gesture. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Aja recoiled at the voice. Dumpster Dempsey.
“Those homeless people are vermin though. You shouldn’t feed them or give them money. You’ll just encourage them.” Dempsey pulled her large purse over her shoulder protectively. “You look like you’ve been rolling in the mud too.”
Aja was pissed. She’d given up her perfect sandwich, was on the run again, and seeing the Dumpster just added fuel to the fire. “That was my dad,” Aja shot back. “Since he had to work late, I brought him his dinner.”
Dempsey’s eyes widened.
“Mom sends her love,” Aja yelled at the lingering dust cloud the man had left.
“Aja, you’re not homeless. Your mom is the psychic. You live where that hand waves from the front yard,” Dempsey said, but seemed just a tad unsure now.
Aja was tempted to ask to use the woman’s phone, but she didn’t want a barrage of questions or for her to eavesdrop and realize Aja was on the lam again. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” She turned and stormed off.
Aja hung around the parking lot, hoping to see someone else she knew. No luck. The only familiar face was the security guard, who by now had spotted Aja trolling around the lot.
She was sick of running. Sick of everything. She hadn’t done anything wrong, yet felt guilty. It was dark now so Aja decided to walk home. As she approached her driveway, she saw two police cars parked. The officer she recognized as Doug sprang from a car yelling, “There she is.” He crouched behind his car door as if Aja had a gun pointed at him.
She held her arms up mockingly. “Don’t’ shoot, I’m unarmed.” Then she threw in, “And innocent.”
The other police car door opened and Freddy Kruger stepped out, slowly, deliberately. That scared Aja more than if he’d come screaming at her guns blazing.
“Get him away from me.” Aja screamed and started to back away.
The front door to her house opened and her mom ran out with the female officer from the other night, Officer Smith.
“Aja, are you all right?” her mom asked. “What is going on?”
“I was falsely accused of stealing, and this jerk was going to take me to God knows where.” She pointed at Freddy.
“You ran, makes you guilty to me,” Doug said, leaning against his car door.
“I ran, toad breath, because this guy scares the bejeezes out of me.” She pointed at Freddy.
“Aja, don’t talk like that,” her mom admonished.
“What? Bejeezes?”
“Let’s not make this worse,” her mom whispered.
Officer Smith walked to her. “Aja, you need to come to the station. You’ve been accused of a crime.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“Why did you run?”
“Because the police officer you sent was the guy stalking me. No way am I getting into a car with him.”
“Did you file a report?” Officer Smith asked.
“Not yet, we were going to do that soon,” her mom said. “Aja’s been busy with school and work.”
“So I’m to believe a teenager, who has a record, and ran from a police officer when accused of a crime?” Officer Smith raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Aja huffed. “I did not steal anything.” An image of the forty dollars flashed in her brain. “I’m trying to finish school and make a little money so I can get the hell out of this pit town. I don’t have time for all this drama.”
“You need to come to the station so we can talk.”
“Fine. But I’m riding with you.”
Chapter 19
The police station was dull with green-tinted fluorescent lighting. For more than an hour, Aja had sat alone in a conference room with one-sided mirrors, wondering who was watching from the other side. She thought of the time wasted that she could have been finishing her homework while waiting. She wished her mom could come in and sit with her.
A door opened, and Officer Smith entered with a man dressed in a sport coat and khaki pants.
“Aja,” Officer Smith said. “This is Detective Powell; he wants to ask you a few questions.” They both took a seat.
“Where’s my mom?” Aja asked.
“She’s outside waiting,” Detective Powell answered. He put a manila file folder on the table in front of him but didn’t open it. “So do you want to tell me about Mrs. Poston’s jewelry?”
“If I knew something about it, I’d be happy to, but I don’t know what that old biddy is talking about.” Aja slumped back in her chair.
“Were you in her apartment?”
“Yes, when she ordered me in to help her get something off her shelf.”
“How did you know where the key was?” Officer Smith asked.
“The first time she asked me to help her with something she pulled the key out right in front of me.”
“So you’ve been there more than once?” the detective asked.
“Twice. Only when she’s demanded that I help her. Otherwise, I try to avoid her at all costs.”
“She said you were snooping through her things.”
“I was looking at pictures she had out. I asked her about them. That’s all.”
“Did you want to get to know her better, her habits, her schedule?” The easygoing demeanor of the detective began to harden.
Officer Smith sat and watched the interrogation.
“No. The only reason I’d want to know her schedule would be to avoid her.” Aja shot back.
“So you could break into her apartme
nt when she wasn’t around.” His eyes became cold.
“Read my lips.” Aja met his gaze. “I did not steal from that pain-in-the-ass.”
Officer Smith tried to defuse the tension. “Aja, please, just answer the questions calmly.”
“Do you know what it’s like to be falsely accused?” Aja yelled. “That woman has been out to get me since I started working there.”
“Seems like a good place to make a dishonest living, preying on old, helpless people,” Detective Powell said. “Let’s look at your previous crimes.” He opened the folder and began reading. “Disorderly conduct, four years ago in Arizona.”
“The peace protest? I was at a sit-in with my mom, and we got hauled off by police with shields and sticks. It was stupid.” Aja remembered that afternoon. She was already mad at her mom because Aja had actually been invited to a birthday party at a skate rink. The whole eighth grade class was going. Always the new kid, she never got invited to parties and was so excited. Her mom was going to take her right after the protest. Instead, she spent the afternoon in a holding cell. A crushing day.
“Here’s another charge. You broke into a chicken pen and tried to steal the poultry?”
Aja wanted to laugh at that, but didn’t because when they were caught a group of the farmers leveled shotguns at them. She was fifteen and frightened out of her mind. “We weren’t going to steal them, just set them free. They were being treated inhumanely.” She sat up. “Those are juvenile records. How did you get them?”
“Just answer my questions.” He glared at her. “Another disorderly conduct,” he went on, “against a city bus?”
“One of my mom’s friends was in a wheelchair and always had a hassle from the drivers to let her on, so we all stood in front the bus so he couldn’t drive away until she boarded. We did that one a few times,” she added with a tinge of pride in her voice.
Officer Smith interrupted. “Aja, did your mom take you along to all her causes?”
Aja shrugged. “I believed in her.” She thought again of missing the skate party and the giant Peace button ripping her new expensive shirt.
SNOW GLOBE Page 8
