Chapter 5
“You go up to your room, young lady while your father and I discuss what to do.”
“Go to my room? Are you kidding me? You act like I don’t have any say in what happens!”
“Do as your mother says, dear, we have to figure this out.”
“Oooh!” Charlie yelled in exasperation as she fled out of the kitchen and upstairs toward her bedroom. “I’m not a child” she yelled to the air behind her.
“Yes, you’re our child!” she heard her mother yell in return.
She jumped onto her soft bed, slamming her face into the pillow where she yelled again, only muffled this time. She thought about who she could call but her friends had abandoned her when they found out what she had done. “She was better than that and much too smart to do what she did,” was what she heard a couple of times since coming home that day.
She had desperately hoped for hugs and love and even some leniency from her parents. Of course, she’d get those once the shock wore off. She knew her parents did love her, regardless of how stupid she acted. They were right too, she was better than that and much smarter.
“Charlotte! How are you feeling?” She didn’t want to raise her head from the pillow.
“Answer me girl, how are you feeling?” The voice was sharp and angry.
“Go away! Let me suffer alone.” She said through her pillow.
She opened her eyes and looked. Mrs. Kumi was standing over her.
“Mrs. K? What are you doing here?” She looked around, thinking she was in her bedroom in her parents’ house.
“I heard what happened to you Charlotte girl! I came right away.” She leaned over Charlie and kissed her on the forehead, sending a wave of nausea through her.
Mrs. Kumi saw the reaction and apologized profusely as a nurse stepped up. “She’s going to be dizzy for a while. She has a concussion and a contusion on the side of her head.”
“I’m in the hospital,” she sighed to herself, realizing she wasn’t in her bedroom but instead in the hospital.
“Don’t you worry about anything. The police mans were here and told me that you saved everyone and caught the robbers.”
“It’s all foggy.”
“You’re a real hero girl. They caught the robbers in the safe and found the body of the diamond man.”
“It’s over then.”
“Yes!” She said emphatically, “It’s over now.”
“Good.” Charlie mumbled as she turned to her side and vomited in the trashcan. Mrs. Kumi jumped back and the nurse stepped up to wipe her mouth with a towel that was on the bedside table.
“I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake. We’ll get you something for the nausea.”
“Thanks.” Charlie laid back and wondered if Man-Charlie and his guys were at the beach already. She wished that she had gone with them and told Mrs. K about the idea.
“Why no!” she protested. “If you had gone, they would have got away and would have killed those two girls. You saved them all!”
“If you say so.” She knew the older woman was right but her headache was splitting and she dreaded opening her eyes once she closed them. “They killed Adrianne.”
The older woman nodded gravely. “You sleep now.”
Mrs. Kumi kissed her on the temple again, having already forgotten the pain she caused with the first one. She went out in the hallway where Charlie saw her stop to talk to a police officer. Mrs. K shook her finger in the officer’s face and then pointed at Charlotte. She heard a lot of “yes ma’ams” and “we’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”
She drifted back to a fitful sleep, the first time she’d been in an actual bed in weeks. She thought to herself how much of a shame it was that she had to have a concussion to get clean sheets.
The telephone ringing woke her later. She turned over, aching more than she had the hours before. “The phone’s ringing! Can someone get it? I can’t move.”
It kept ringing. Whoever it was, wasn’t going to go away. “Can someone get the phone?”
Finally she reached over and grabbed the receiver, causing more nausea but nothing came up this time. “Hello?” she answered groggily. There was silence on the other end.
“Is someone there?” She asked. “I’m not in the mood for jokes.”
“Charlotte?”
She was stunned for a moment.
“Mom?”
“Baby its mom. We just saw you on television.”
Charlie laid back in bed, a wave of anguish washing over her. She felt ten years old again.
“Mom you wouldn’t believe what has happened.”
“We know dear. We saw it on the news.”
“It was ugly.”
“Are you ok?”
“I’m alive.” She realized that was a plus.
“Your father is packing a bag to come get you. We’re going to leave in a few minutes. It’ll take about three hours to get there.”
“No!” Charlie protested. “No.” she calmed.
“Baby you need to come home.”
Charlie was silent, considering.
“Are you there? Did you hear me? You need to come home.”
“I heard you.”
“We can work all of this out.”
“There’s no baby, Mama.”
“I know dear. You told us that a long time ago.”
“People are going to ask.”
“People know, Charlotte. They all want you to come home, those that count.”
Charlie thought about sleeping in the doorway of the abandoned dentist office and about laying on the asphalt walkway where Adrianne’s body had been. Emotions overwhelmed her and she choked up.
“Mama?”
“Yes child?”
“I’m ready to come home. I have some people to tell you about.”
Author’s Note
Sometimes stories just need to end when they are finished. I won’t try to force more text into a story just to give it length, unless I can first add to its value of the characters and the plot. I have numerous novellas just like this one, swirling around in my head and in the limbo of my computer. I hope to organize them and offer them for readers just like you to enjoy.
Thank you to my friends who inspired several of the characters in Out of Order. You know who you are: James, Charlie (The real one) and Angie. I offer no apologies for these characters, only an, “I’ll do better the next time!” This is a fictional story with fictional characters, events and locations. If you think you resemble the people mentioned, other than those I mentioned myself, it is purely accidental. If you want to steal my idea for the tacky fashion poster, go right ahead. I won’t be responsible for you making a fool of yourself, however.
The plight of our nation’s homeless population is very real. During my undergraduate years in college, I had the opportunity to work with several mission efforts and met quite a few of these people. Many of them are just normal folks like you and me, facing some truly unfortunate and tragic circumstances. Some of them are verifiably mentally ill and should be receiving treatment somewhere appropriate instead of living in the streets.
Quite a few are the runaway similar to who I depicted in this story with the character of Charlotte. This is an all-too-common problem. Many teens experience a crisis and then take to the streets hoping to escape from or avoid the situations. They don’t realize that they are actually jumping into a much more dangerous environment than they understand.
There are those people who also just made the choice to blend in with society and become invisible as a member of the homeless population. I encourage you to volunteer your time an
d your talents with organizations that help the homeless and do what you can to ease their burdens. There is nothing romantic or exotic about living in a gutter or alleyway. Most who do it would happily trade places with you.
God Bless Us All.
Out of Order Page 5
