Do You Know the Monkey Man?: A Novel

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Do You Know the Monkey Man?: A Novel Page 8

by Dori Hillestad Butler


  “Where’s Bob?” I asked.

  She looked up and smiled. “He’s got an early meeting in the morning, so he had to get home.”

  “Oh.” I perched on the edge of the couch. “Angela’s going to visit her dad tomorrow.”

  “Yes, I know.” Mom set her magazine aside. “I talked to Anne today. I understand Angela’s not very happy about this trip.”

  “No, she’s not,” I agreed. “She doesn’t like her dad very much.” I picked up TV Guide and paged through it.

  “Actually, she invited me to go with her,” I said casually. “It’s okay, isn’t it? She really needs some moral support.”

  “Moral support?” Mom cocked her head at me as though wondering what I was trying to get away with now.

  “Yeah.” I turned the page in TV Guide like it was no big deal. But inside my heart was hammering. It was the biggest deal in the world!

  “It’s only six days. I’ll be back next Sunday night.” If I acted like it wasn’t a big deal, maybe she would, too.

  “You can’t go, Sam,” Mom said quietly but firmly.

  “What?” I sat up. “Why not?”

  Mom looked surprised that I would even ask. “My bridal shower is on Saturday.”

  Crud! I’d forgotten all about that.

  “This is important, Mom,” I said in as reasonable a voice as I could muster. “I really have to go with Angela. She’ll be totally miserable if I don’t.”

  Sherlock raised his head and glanced from one of us to the other, then hopped down and scampered away.

  Mom shifted her position so her whole body was facing me. “Bob’s mother and all his sisters and sisters-in-law have been planning this shower for months,” she explained. “They’ve worked very hard. How would it look if my own daughter didn’t show up?”

  “Who cares how it looks!” I shouted, leaping to my feet. I slammed TV Guide down on the coffee table and accidentally knocked a few of the wedding invitations to the floor. “You’re always so concerned about what Bob’s family thinks!”

  Her face tight, Mom leaned over to pick up the invitations. She didn’t even respond to what I said. All she said was, “I’m sorry, Sam. But the answer is no.”

  I felt a pain in my chest. I was too old for a temper tantrum, but tears stung my eyes. How could she say no?

  “It’s not fair!” I said, even though I knew that argument never worked with her.

  She shot me a warning look.

  “It’s your shower, not mine. And it’s just one day. I can’t believe you’d say no because of one day. Angela needs me, Mom!” I pleaded.

  But Mom wasn’t buying it. “I need you, too,” she said in a small voice.

  “No, you don’t,” I muttered. “All you need is Bob and his mother and the rest of his stupid family.” With that, I stormed up to my bedroom.

  I half expected her to follow me and tell me I was wrong, but she didn’t. And the fact that she didn’t made me even madder.

  I was really fuming when the phone rang a few minutes later. It was Angela. “I talked to my father,” she said. “I didn’t say anything about you wanting to go to Richland or anything. I just asked if I could bring a friend.” She paused. “He said yes.”

  “H-he did?”

  “Yeah. Did you ask your mom? Did she say it was okay, too?”

  “I talked to her.” Then words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them. “She said it’s okay. You guys can pick me up whenever you’re ready tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I’d never done anything like this before. Sure, I’d told a few little white lies now and then. Hasn’t everyone? But I’d never gone ahead and done something my mom specifically said I couldn’t do. Of course, she’d never said I couldn’t do something so important before, either. My entire life hinged on this trip to Minnesota.

  I had set my alarm for 7:00 A.M., the time my mom usually left for work, but I was wide awake at 6:30. I had wondered whether I’d see things differently after a good night’s sleep, whether I’d change my mind about going. But I was just as determined to go today as I’d been last night.

  For half an hour I lay in bed scratching Sherlock’s chin and listening to my mom move around the house getting ready for work. I felt a little bit guilty, knowing what I was about to do (Boy, was she going to mad when she got home and found me gone!), but not guilty enough to change my mind. Eventually she’d understand why I had to do this. Maybe she’d even thank me one day. If I actually found Sarah as well as my dad.

  At 6:45 I heard my bedroom door open. I squeezed my eyes closed and pretended I was asleep until I heard my door latch shut again. I don’t think I even breathed until I heard the garage door going up and the car starting.

  As soon as I heard the garage door coming back down, I rolled over and switched my alarm off. Then I threw off my covers and leaped to my window. I stuck my finger between two slats of mini blinds and watched my mom back down the driveway. By the time she got home this afternoon, I’d already be in Minnesota.

  I let the blinds drop back into place and raced to my closet. I hadn’t dared to pack anything last night, just in case my mom walked in. But now I hauled my suitcase down from the shelf in my closet and filled it with clothes, makeup, a hair dryer, and a curling iron. I put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, then quickly ran a comb through my hair. I pulled out the photo of me and Sarah and stuck it in my purse. Finally I grabbed the book I was reading so I’d have something to do on the long car ride.

  Last I went to the kitchen to write Mom a note.

  Dear Mom,

  I’m sorry, but I had to do this. I had to go with Angela. I know you’ll be mad, but I had to do it anyway. I’ll explain why when I get back.

  Love, Sam

  P.S. I hope your shower is nice.

  I grabbed my cell phone and popped it into my purse. As I did, I realized that probably the first thing Mom would do when she read my note was call my cell phone and ream me out. So I picked up my cell phone, hit the power button, then dropped it back into my purse.

  Would she call Angela’s dad’s house then? I doubted she knew the number, but she could probably get it easily enough from Angela’s mom. Well, there wasn’t much I could do about that. Fortunately it was too far of a trip for her to just drive up there and drag me home by my ear. I knew that if I managed to get there, she’d have to let me stay the whole week. And then, one way or another, I’d find a way to get myself to Richland.

  I double-checked my suitcase to make sure I had everything. Then I went to the front door to wait for Angela and her brother.

  At exactly seven minutes past eight they pulled into the driveway. I have to say, Andrew Hunter did not drive a very cool car. It was old and brown and extremely rusty, but it ran. And it was all his.

  I hadn’t seen much of Andrew lately, but let me tell you, he was looking mighty fine when he stepped out of that rust bucket of a car. He’d been working in the lumberyard at Menards all summer, and lifting all those heavy planks of wood had done beautiful things to his arms. I really regretted not taking a little more time with my hair that morning.

  “Hey, Sam,” he said as he popped the trunk. My knees turned to jelly when he grabbed my suitcase and tossed it in the trunk with the others, but somehow I managed to get myself into the backseat with Angela.

  “I’m glad you talked me into this,” Angela said, moving her purse over to make room for me. “It’ll be a lot easier to handle my dad if you’re there, too.”

  I squeezed her hand. I was glad she was happy to have me along. “Everything will be fine,” I told her. “You’ll see.”

  “Ready to roll, ladies?” Andrew eyed us through the rearview mirror. I loved how he called us “ladies.”

  I buckled my seat belt. “Ready,” I said.

  As Andrew backed down the driveway, I leaned over and whispered to Angela, “I can’t believe your mom’s letting him drive all the way to Minnesota!” He’d just turned sixteen four months ago
, so he hadn’t been driving all that long.

  In fact, if my mom had originally said I could go, but then found out Andrew was driving, she probably would’ve changed her mind.

  Angela shrugged. “My mom didn’t want to drive us. She doesn’t want to see my dad or his new wife. And Andrew really wanted a car up there. That’s about all he cares about these days. He didn’t care whether we went or not, as long as he got to have his car. So letting him drive seemed like a good solution all around. Besides, it’s mostly interstate between here and Hill Valley and there isn’t a lot of traffic.”

  “Hey, Angela,” Andrew said, not taking his eyes off the road. “You’ve got the map back there, don’t you?”

  Angela pulled a map out of the pocket in the back of Andrew’s seat. “Right here.” She held it up. A yellow highlighter line marked our route on the map.

  “Good. I think I know where we’re going, but I might need you to look at the map along the way.”

  “Whatever,” Angela replied.

  As Andrew turned onto Interstate 380 and we headed out of town, I realized I’d never left town without an adult before. I felt all grown-up and mature…and excited…and scared… . It wasn’t too late to ask Andrew to turn around and take me back home. If I went home right now, my mom would never know that I almost snuck off to Minnesota. But I had to go. I had to find out the truth about my family. So as Andrew picked up speed and the last housing developments whizzed by, I sat back against my seat and settled in for the long ride.

  Angela had brought along a deck of cards. We tried to play gin rummy, but the cards kept sliding down the seat. So mostly we played tic-tac-toe and Mad Libs and we took turns with Angela’s MP3 player.

  We stopped for lunch at a Pizza Hut along the way. Angela and I went to comb our hair and use the bathroom. When we came out, I skidded to a stop. There was a lady dressed in a nurse’s outfit standing at the cash register. From the back she looked just like my mom.

  “What’s the matter?” Angela asked.

  “My mom—” I began. When the woman turned around, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “What about your mom?” Angela asked, glancing from me to the woman and back again.

  “Nothing,” I said, hurrying back to our table.

  Angela grabbed my arm. “What do you mean nothing?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Your mom knows you came with me, doesn’t she?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Doesn’t she?” Angela repeated.

  “Well …” I chewed my lip. “She’ll find out when she gets home from work,” I said in a small voice. “I left her a note.”

  Angela’s mouth fell open. “You left her a note?” she screeched. “I thought you said last night you talked to her.”

  “I did talk to her. It’s just …” I looked down at the floor. “Her shower’s this weekend. So she said no.”

  “She said no, but you came anyway? And you lied about it to me?” Her eyes widened.

  Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to spill down my cheeks. I felt shamed. I wasn’t just lying to my mom. I was lying to my best friend, too.

  “I’m sorry! But this was my only chance to come to Minnesota. I just—”

  “What’s going on here?” Andrew asked, joining us at the table. He had a plate of bread and salad in his hand. He glanced from one of us to the other.

  Please don’t tell, I willed Angela. It was bad enough she was mad at me. I didn’t want Andrew to know I’d snuck away like some bratty little kid. And I certainly didn’t want him to take me back home.

  Angela looked at me like she didn’t even know me. Finally she shook her head and said, “Nothing.” She spun on her heel and went to get some pizza.

  The three of us ate in silence. I could feel Andrew glancing from one of us to the other, wondering what was up. But I kept my head pointed at my plate. I hated having anyone mad at me, but it felt especially bad when it was Angela.

  When we finished eating, Andrew drove over to a gas station across the street. Angela bought a magazine of word search puzzles. I got out my book. And for the next half hour it was a silent ride, except for the radio.

  I tried to concentrate on my book, but that was hard to do when Angela’s anger was taking up the whole back seat. Would she ever speak to me again?

  I stared out the window and watched the cornfields go by. I should’ve told her the truth last night. I should’ve told her my mom said no.

  But would I be on my way to Minnesota right now if I had? Probably not.

  We were coming up on the border between Iowa and Minnesota.

  “Hey, cool,” Andrew said. “The speed limit in Minnesota is 70.” He hit the accelerator.

  Angela and I glanced toward each other, but then she looked away.

  Andrew stuck an old Beatles cassette in the player and cranked the volume. I went back to staring out the window. The countryside was just as dull in southern Minnesota as it was in Iowa. The land was maybe a little flatter. On either side of the road, miles and miles of farmland stretched as far as the eye could see.

  “Hey.” Angela poked my arm.

  “What?” I held my breath. She didn’t look quite as mad as she did earlier, but she didn’t look like she’d forgiven me, either.

  “I understand why you lied,” Angela said carefully. “You were desperate. People who are desperate do desperate things.”

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  “You never would have lied to me about anything else. At least, I don’t think you would have.”

  I shook my head. I definitely wouldn’t have lied to her about anything else.

  “It’s just that ever since you started this with your dad, you’re like a whole different person.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “Yes you are. You’re so obsessed. And, well, don’t take this the wrong way, Sam …” She shifted in her seat. She seemed to be searching for just the right way to say it. “As your best friend, I have to tell you you’re sort of gullible. I mean, you believe everything. You fall for stuff that ordinary people don’t fall for.”

  “I do not!”

  “You do too!”

  I shook my head. “Maybe it looks that way to you because you’re a half-empty kind of person and I’m a half-full kind of person.”

  Angela tilted her head and frowned at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “What?”

  But it made perfect sense to me. “It’s how we look at the world,” I went on. “You see a glass as half empty. I see the same glass as half full. I’m an optimist. You’re a pessimist.” It was the main difference between us.

  Angela thought about that for a moment. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But so what? At least I’m grounded in reality.”

  “Grounded in reality?” I cried. Then, remembering we weren’t alone, I lowered my voice. “You’re so grounded in reality, you won’t even give your dad a chance. It’s like here we are on the way, and you’re sitting there like you’re expecting your dad to pop up out of nowhere and tell you he changed his mind. You guys can’t come after all.”

  Angela shrugged. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Nothing surprises you. Nothing bad, anyway.”

  “That’s right. And I can deal with that. But what about you, Sam? What’s going to happen when you come face to face with your father and you discover he’s not the knight in shining armor you think he is?”

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly. What else could I say?

  I had to find out the truth. It was more important to me than anything else. More important than missing my mom’s shower, more important than lying to Angela, and more important than what was going to happen to me if it turned out I was wrong about all this.

  If my sister was really still alive and living with my dad, one way or another I was going to track them down.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Andrew turned the music off as we started down the hill into Hill Valley. “You guys awake?” he asked. “We’r
e almost there.”

  “We’re awake,” Angela said. She sat up a little straighter and stared out the window.

  “So this is where you used to live,” I said. We passed a school, then a row of fast-food places and a park. “Looks like a nice town.”

  No response.

  I tapped Angela on the shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said, her forehead pressed against the window. “It’s just weird to be back. Everything looks so different.”

  “Tell me about it,” Andrew said. I have to say I was really impressed that he never once needed Angela to check the map the whole trip.

  “Have you guys been to your father’s house before?” I asked.

  Angela snorted. “We used to live there.”

  “Oh.” She’d never told me her dad lived in her old house.

  “Dad bought Mom out when we moved to Iowa,” Andrew explained.

  We turned onto a nice tree-lined street. The houses were bigger than my house, but not huge. And not fancy. They were just regular nice houses. Bikes and scooters rested in front of several of them.

  Andrew stopped in front of a tall white house with red trim. A large porch stretched across the whole front of the house. A red ball, a plastic shovel, and a little yellow dump truck lay in the front yard.

  It had been three hours since we’d stopped at Pizza Hut, so I was pretty anxious to get out of the car and stretch, not to mention go to the bathroom. But Angela and Andrew took their sweet time getting out of the car. They both stared at the house as though they’d never seen it before.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked, glancing over at the house. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

  “Our house is supposed to be blue,” Angela said, slamming her car door.

  “It’s been a while since we’ve been here,” Andrew said. “I’m sure this isn’t the only thing that’s changed.”

 

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