by Nancy Isaak
Lily and Shawnee—of course—would also be kept in the dark until just before we were ready to depart. Until then, they would just be two young girls enjoying a birthday party of another girl—one they both loved dearly.
It certainly sounded like a good plan.
But, like my mother would always say…the devil is in the details.
* * * *
Wandy wasn’t at the house when we arrived.
Cherry was beside herself—frantic, scared—running from window-to-window to peer out into the lengthening shadows for any sign of her girlfriend. As the sun finally set and darkness descended, our hearts sank.
Wandy must have been ‘taken’.
But she eventually showed up, all sweaty and smelling of dirt. Cherry, Jay, and I rushed to meet her at the door; Jude was in the backyard with the younger girls.
“Sorry, guys,” Wandy apologized. “They put too much crap on the compost and it was becoming overburdened. I needed to show the girls how to fluff the pile.”
Jay snorted, stifling a giggle. “Fluff…”
Wandy frowned at her. “If they don’t turn the compost, get some air between the layers, they’re just going to wind up with a useless pile of slime.”
Cherry wagged an accusing finger at her. “You scared us!”
“I’m sorry,” said Wandy. “But this was important.”
“It’s your birthday and we’ve got plans and you promised you’d be here!”
“I am here,” insisted Wandy. “I just had to finish the compost first.”
“It’s just fertilizer!” Cherry stamped her foot in frustration.
Wandy shook her head—a little annoyed. “Fertilizer that might keep those girls alive! Don’t you understand that? Do you want them to all die of starvation? What’s wrong with you?”
Cherry’s eyes filled with tears. I had never seen her look so vulnerable—so conflicted.
“What?” asked Wandy. “What’s going on, Cherry…what am I missing?”
“I—I thought you had disappeared,” Cherry admitted. “When you didn’t come home on time…I thought…” Her words trailed off.
Wandy’s frustration evaporated immediately. “I’m sorry I scared you,” she told Cherry. “I just—well, I just wanted to leave something behind, you know. Something good. So—no matter what happens—at least I did something right, something important.”
Jude came into the hallway from the back of the house. She was carrying a soda, which she handed to Wandy. “Happy Birthday!” Jude said. Then she wiggled her nose and took a step back in disgust. “Dude, seriously…you stink! And where’s the rope? I don’t see no rope!”
Wandy held up a finger. “Sophia?”
Jay pointed toward the back of the house. Through the window there, we could just make out Sophia, placing a large pot over a camp stove in the backyard. Shawnee and Lily were standing next to her, intently interested in what she was about to cook.
Wandy reached under the back of her hoodie and pulled out a coiled rope and handed it to Jude. “It’s all I could get.”
“Then it’ll have to do.” Jude quickly tucked the rope into a backpack that she’d stowed in a nearby closet when we had arrived earlier. Because we were going to be traveling over the mountains, it only made sense to bring along some rope.
“Is Sophia suspicious?” Wandy asked.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” said Jay. “She’s just doing her usual cooking and non-stop preaching about the Tribulations.”
“What’s she cooking?”
“Right now? I think it’s the birthday cake.”
“Nice.”
“You still stink,” reminded Jude.
Wandy gave an offended snort, then began walking toward the master bedroom. “Think I better heat up some water and have a bath, then. Get some of this stink off.”
She disappeared around a corner.
I looked over at Cherry; there were still tears in her eyes.
“What is it?” I asked. “She didn’t disappear, Cherry. Wandy hit eighteen and she’s still here.”
Cherry shook her head, unhappily. “Wandy was born just before midnight. It’s not her ‘true’ birthday, yet…she’s still seventeen.”
Our hearts sank once again.
* * * *
We ate dinner out on the back patio.
Sophia had somehow managed to create a variation on her shepherd’s pie, using canned black beans and instant mashed potatoes. While it wasn’t amazing, it was still pretty tasty.
Dessert, meanwhile, was a cherry-filled chocolate cake and sugar cookies.
Without a doubt, the girl might have been a whack-a-doodle, but she was a genius when it came to the kitchen.
* * * *
One of the few things that Wandy had brought over from the house she had shared with her grandmother was an old Victrola and a box of 78 records. Using a big key, she wound up the Victrola and we played music that night—old, scratchy, odd music—songs that I’d never heard before and probably never would again.
But it was fun.
Shawnee and Lily led the dancing—innocently jumping around, leaping over the furniture like only the really young can do without embarrassment. I, of course, did my usual hop-dance (and made certain not to do it anywhere near Jude!). Cherry and Wandy, meanwhile, had a couple of slow-dances together, which—in all honesty—made Jay and I a little uncomfortable and brought a sour frown to Sophia’s face.
When we reached the end of Wandy’s record collection, Jay switched things up, by trying to teach us all how to do the ‘bhangra’—a traditional Pakistani dance.
We all sucked at it—to varying degrees.
Except for Shawnee.
Somehow, that chubby young girl took to the dance steps like she was born to them. She and Jay fairly flew across the living room.
It was just wonderful to watch.
And—when I looked over at Cherry—she was staring at her younger sister with such obvious pride, that it made my eyes tear up.
* * * *
Later, we gave Wandy presents.
Of course, she wouldn’t be able to take them with her when we left (too much to carry). We simply wanted her birthday party to appear as normal as possible.
As a cover—because of Sophia.
* * * *
Just after eleven, Cherry and Wandy excused themselves and retired to their room. Meanwhile, Jay and I helped Shawnee and Lily into their beds, while Sophia and Jude cleaned up in the living room.
Afterward, the four of us—Jay, Jude, Sophia, and I—sat on the back patio and drank hot chocolate.
“She’s scared,” Sophia noted. “She is trying to hide it, but it’s true…Wandy, she is scared.”
“She’ll make it,” said Jude. “Wandy will be here in the morning. You’ll see.”
Sophia nodded. “Perhaps. But it is okay, I think. Wandy—she will be saved in a different way.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.
“She was at church service last Sunday. God has forgiven Wandy.”
This was news to all of us.
We had no idea that Wandy was religious.
“God will forgive all who repent,” Sophia continued. “God is very kind that way.”
Jude snorted in amusement, which gained her a nasty look from Sophia.
“You must speak to God,” Sophia told her. “Before it is too late, Jude.”
“Actually, I have spoken to God,” said Jude. “He told me to tell you to shut your pie hole, Sophia…or maybe it was that you were supposed to go make some more pies. I don’t remember exactly, but it was definitely something to do with pies.”
“This is not good, these things you say, Jude.” Sophia stopped for a moment, covering her mouth while she yawned. “You should not joke about God.”
I looked over at Jay; I knew that—in one of her pockets—Jay had hidden a container of sedatives. Because Sophia had been ever-present that evening, I hadn’t yet learned what Cherry and Wandy�
�s decision was in regards to Sophia—if, in fact, the sedatives in Jay’s pocket had actually been used.
“Have you seen an aardvark?” asked Jude. “I’m pretty sure that God can take a joke.”
“Is not…funny.” Sophia might have said more, but an enormous yawn suddenly interrupted her; her mouth stretched wide and her eyes drooped with fatigue.
“Well, I’m tired,” I quickly said—talking to Sophia but looking directly at Jay. “How about you? You ready for bed, Sophia?”
She yawned a third time and Jay smiled, wiggling her eyebrows at me. “Oh, I think Sophia’s going to be sleeping any moment now.”
Guess I had my answer.
Sophia was staying behind.
* * * *
Sometime later, Jay and I woke up Lily and Shawnee and helped them dress in their traveling clothes. They were tired and confused and—in Lily’s case—a little cranky. She objected loudly when I grabbed Pugly off the bed and stuffed him into a large over-the-shoulder bag. There was a towel inside and the little dog immediately snuggled down and—with a fart—went quickly back to sleep.
Jude, meanwhile, began pacing up and down the living room, peering out the front windows, searching for any movement along Driver Avenue. She stopped only when the bedroom door finally opened around 2:30 a.m., and Wandy and Cherry exited with their backpacks.
In two quick steps, Jude had reached Wandy and pulled her in for a very un-Jude-like hug. “Dude!” Jude exclaimed—obviously relieved. Then—just as quickly—she pushed Wandy away.
“Good to see you, too, Jude,” grinned Wandy. “Guess I’ll be staying with you guys after all.”
The rest of us moved in then, giving Wandy our own bone-crushing hugs. Lily and Shawnee weren’t exactly certain what was really going on, but they joined in, too.
Cherry, meanwhile, stood to one side—brushing away happy tears from her cheeks. When we finally released Wandy, she asked about Sophia. “Did you get it done?”
“Tucked in and dreaming of sugarplums,” Jay told her.
Walking to the front window, Cherry’s eyes panned across the front yard—from shadow to shadow. “Any sign of the Detail?”
Jude shook her head. “I’ve been watching Driver for the last half hour. It’s silent.”
“Okay, ladies,” I said—happy. “It’s time…let’s go to Malibu!”
* * * *
We got as far as the backyard.
They were waiting for us there.
Ten 11th and 12th graders—all with guns pointed directly at us—came out from between the bushes. Their faces were devoid of expression as they circled us.
A moment later, Alice came around the side of the house, carrying a whip. Behind her stepped Orla, Peyton, and Tray.
All three of the Foxes were wearing fur coats (which made me hate them even more). They moved slowly toward us and the 11th and 12th graders in front stepped to the side to allow them inside the circle.
Then—the circle closed back up again.
* * * *
Orla walked around us, slowly—a measured step, obviously meant to establish her authority. Tray, meanwhile, remained facing us, just waiting, with a smirk on her face. Peyton stood next to her, looking down at the ground.
“So…where you going, Ladies?” asked Orla, in a faux-cheery voice.
“None of your business,” growled Jude.
“Really?” Orla stopped in front of us, her cheeriness suddenly gone. “This is my community, Rude. Seems like that makes it my business.”
“Then, let us be on our way and we’ll get out of your business and your damned community,” hissed Cherry.
Beside her, Shawnee began to sniffle—obviously scared. Lily, taking her cue from Shawnee, also began to cry.
Peyton’s head snapped up. “Come here, Lily,” she said, softly.
As Lily lifted her foot to take a step forward, Jude reached out and grabbed her hand, holding her in place.
“Jude, you have to understand,” Peyton said—trying to sound reasonable. “Lily needs to come with me. I’ll…I’ll keep her safe…I promise. So, don’t make her see this, Jude…please.”
“Please?!” Tray looked absolutely disgusted with Peyton. “Just grab the little bitch and take her, Peyton!”
The menace in Tray’s voice was chilling.
I immediately turned to Jude, urging her to, “Give Lily to Peyton!”
Jude didn’t move; she didn’t say a word.
But—she did loosen her hold on Lily.
Peyton reached out and carefully unhooked Lily’s hand from Jude’s. “Come on, sweetheart,” she said, gently. “Come with me.”
“What about Shawnee?” I asked.
Peyton looked over to Orla.
“Just the girl,” Orla told her. “Now, go!”
And—quickly—Peyton pulled Lily away from us and around the far corner of the house. Their footsteps echoed for a while before…fading away…they were swallowed up in the darkness.
Lily was gone.
I turned to look at Jude. Her head was slowly lowering, her eyes becoming tiny slits. Down at her side, Jude’s left hand was beginning to twitch, slowly inching its way up toward her fanny pack and the gun zipped inside.
She reminded me of a bull about to charge.
Quickly, I reached out and grabbed her hand. On the far side, Jay followed my lead and grabbed Jude’s other hand.
We both held on tight.
Orla laughed. “You guys kill me, you really do.”
Jude growled—under her breath. “I will kill you.”
“You can try,” said Orla. “But I’ve got at least ten guns on you that say different.”
At that moment—deep inside the large bag that still hung from my shoulder—a sleeping Pugly let out a loud fart. For a second, everything stopped; even Orla looked confused by the ‘pwfft’.
“My stomach’s sensitive,” I quickly said. “It gets weird under stress.”
“Well, how very…distressing…for you,” she smirked, trying hard not to laugh.
“Look…what are you going to do, Orla?” I asked, pointedly. “What’s your plan? Shoot us all…arrest us…put us on trial—spank our naked bottoms.”
She pretended shock. “You’re not being killed. You’re not even being arrested. In fact, you’re all free to go, if you want…wherever you want.”
It was my turn to look confused.
“What’s the catch?” I asked, warily.
Orla smiled brightly—enjoying the moment.
“Why, Lily stays here,” she finally said—as if it should be obvious. “And Jay, of course.”
* * * *
We could hear banging and crashing from inside of the house. Four 12th graders had gone inside and were now rummaging around.
“Get the record player!” yelled Orla. “Take it back to our house.” She turned back to where we were still standing, guns trained at our chests. “You probably stole it anyways, right?”
“It was my grandmother’s,” said Wandy, quietly.
“Well,” Orla shrugged, “not anymore. Now it’s the Community’s property.”
“Why are you doing this, Orla?” I asked, frustrated. “Are you really this much of a bitch?”
Turning serious, Orla leaned in close, wagging a finger in front of my face. “You know, it’s bad enough that you wanted to take one of our young,” she said, angrily. “But did you really think that we’d let you take our only doctor, too?”
Jay’s mouth gaped open, shocked. “I’m not a doctor…I’m 15-years old.”
“And yet,” Orla’s finger turned to wag in her direction, “you’re all we’ve got.”
“That’s not true!” Jay insisted. “Belinda can take over. She wants to!”
“What are the A-B-C’s of Medicine? Quick, Jay. What are they?” Orla asked.
“Um—”
“Quicker than that.”
“Airway, breathing, circulation,” said Jay. “The first things to check.”
“Exactly,” nodded Orla. “Funny, though…I asked Belinda the same thing this afternoon and she had absolutely no idea what I was talking about.”
“She can be taught,” Jay insisted. “She can learn from a book just like I was doing.”
“And she will…but she will also learn from you.”
“Or what?”
Tray barked out an ugly laugh.
A few of the 11th and 12th graders began to move in closer—threatening. Orla motioned for them to stay where they were, however. Instead, she merely poked Jay in the chest. “It’s simple.” She poked Jay again—one poke for each word.
“We’ve…got…Lily.”
* * * *
I heard a low growl.
My first thought was that Pugly must have woken up, but then I realized that the growl wasn’t coming from the bag over my shoulder.
It was coming from beside me…from Jude!
Orla obviously heard it, too, because she stepped back quickly. “Now you listen,” Orla said—her shaky voice betraying her sudden uncertainty. “All of you—listen good. Except for Jay I don’t care if any of you stay or go. But if you do stay—you do your jobs, you be good citizens—and you keep your mouth shut.”
“And if we don’t?” asked Cherry. “If we, say…tell strange little tales about fake beasts and ugly beauties?”
Orla’s eyes narrowed in surprise.
“What?” Cherry continued. “Did you really think that we’d all be so gullible?”
It took a moment for Orla to compose herself. When she did, she was all business again. “Lily is with Peyton right now,” she told us, “so it’s big sister time. They’ll put on nail polish, try on clothes, talk about kittens. It’ll be fun for Lily and it will be good for Peyton.”
