The Many Mysteries of the Finkel Family

by Sarah Kapit

  “Sorry, man! I missed,” said a tall boy who came up from behind. “I meant to throw it at my jerk of a friend over there.”

  Caroline had no idea why one would want to throw something at a friend, but she supposed that wasn’t really her business. The boy retrieved the unwelcome projectile—a pear, as it turned out—from the floor. To Caroline’s disgust, he looked as though he might still eat it.

  Under the circumstances, she could not even think about typing out a reply. She tried to do the deep-breathing exercises her therapist recommended for situations such as these, but all the commotion in the cafeteria made it difficult to concentrate on counting the inhales and exhales.

  The boy looked at her strangely, but did not comment any further. Caroline wondered if she was already known throughout the sixth grade as The Girl Who Doesn’t Speak.

  Micah sprang into action, giving the other boy a fierce glare. Caroline felt very, very glad that this glare had not yet been directed at her.

  “Well, try and watch where you throw your lunch from now on,” Micah said. “’Kay?”

  “You got it.” The boy turned to Caroline again. “I really am sorry.”

  Caroline nodded and forced herself back into her chair. She managed one big deep breath, then two and three. By breath number eight she felt okay, or at least most of the way there.

  Micah smiled at her and a burst of affection swelled within her chest. Grinning broadly, she turned back to her phone and once again opened their text thread.

  Thanks.

  Caroline’s fingers hovered over the keys as she considered what to type next. There was so much more she could say. Thanks for defending me. Thanks for not freaking out when I freaked out. Thanks for not making a big deal over everything now.

  But Caroline wasn’t quite sure how to say any of that without sounding, well, kind of uncool. So she pressed the “send” button, hoping that her single word would somehow communicate everything she really wanted to say.

  Micah’s response came back almost instantaneously.

  No prob.

  Caroline flashed him a thumbs-up and started eating her sandwich again. Somehow it tasted better than before.

  While she ate, Micah took out his sketchbook and worked on his comic strip. He didn’t say anything else about Marissa and his plan for the rest of the lunch period.

  Still, Caroline thought about it. Micah was an awfully good friend to her. Would it really be so bad to play one teeny-tiny prank?

  Yes! Caroline’s conscience screamed.

  But another part of her whispered, Maybe not.

  * * *

  * * *

  By the end of the day, Caroline’s mood was frayed. To make matters even worse, Dad hadn’t shown up, twenty-two full minutes after the end of school.

  “Is there some reason why Dad might be late?” Caroline asked her sister as they waited with Aviva by the main entrance.

  Some part of Caroline wanted to believe that Dad had just been held up by a super-important meeting. Some adult thing he absolutely could not get out of, no matter how much he wanted to.

  Because surely her father would come pick them up if he could, wouldn’t he?

  “Well, you know Dad,” Lara said finally. As if that were a real answer.

  A few feet away, Aviva shifted from foot to foot in a jittery dance. That only had the effect of increasing Caroline’s nerves. She could tell it made Lara anxious too, but surprisingly, she didn’t say anything about it.

  “Let me text him,” Lara said, eyes fixed on her glowing phone screen.

  Aviva added a hand-flap to her dance, and Caroline smiled in spite of the uncertainty. She always found it comforting to see her movements, so often mocked by other kids, in other people. In that way she was definitely lucky to have her family. As far as Caroline could tell, not being autistic or having ADHD was weird for the Rosanes-Finkel family. Maybe Noah felt left out sometimes. He was the only Finkel sibling that was remotely normal—whatever normal meant.

  As the minutes passed, Aviva’s flapping and pacing sped up. Caroline started flapping herself, and she could tell that Lara was ready to join them soon. Her sister’s hand seemingly had not strayed from the phone for five minutes straight.

  “Did you try texting Dad again?” Caroline asked. Maybe he’d missed the ping of his phone the first time.

  “Of course I did,” Lara replied. The tension in her voice made Caroline flinch. “I’ve texted him six times since we’ve been here. Right now I’m working on number seven.”

  Aviva, still pacing on the sidewalk, spoke. “Maybe he is busy at work.”

  “That’s not possible,” Caroline said.

  She realized her mistake the moment she tapped “speak” on her app. Aviva stopped pacing and stared.

  Arms crossed over her chest, Lara looked at Caroline. “Our dad lost his job,” she said flatly.

  Her cousin frowned. “I do not understand,” she said. “Why does your dad losing his job mean he cannot pick us up?”

  It was an entirely reasonable question, and one that Caroline couldn’t begin to answer adequately. Fortunately, Lara had a response as always.

  “That is very complicated.”

  “Complicated how?” A crease appeared on Aviva’s brow.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” Lara said, in a tone that made Caroline wince. “You don’t know Dad like we do. Sorry.”

  Lara did not sound very sorry.

  Aviva didn’t say anything more, but Caroline was thoroughly annoyed with her sister. She searched her brain for the right words to express her displeasure at Lara’s meanness and began to tap at her tablet. She was nearly ready to press “speak” on her rant when Lara spoke again. This time her voice was light and airy.

  “Well, I don’t think Dad is coming. But that’s okay. We can just get home ourselves. I have enough emergency money for the bus.”

  Aviva’s hands began to flap at least 10 percent faster than before in Caroline’s estimation. “The bus?” she repeated. “Are we allowed to do that?”

  “I’ve done it before,” Lara said, which wasn’t exactly an answer to the question that had been asked.

  While Lara explained, in her most annoying Big Sister voice, how taking the bus home was totally the easiest thing in the history of ever, Caroline composed a new paragraph on her tablet. It was full of rational points about how they should simply try to contact their parents again rather than attempt something that was sure to go wrong. Something that was most certainly Against the Rules.

  Of course Lara only rolled her eyes at Caroline’s well-considered points. “Lina-Lin, don’t worry so much. The bus will get us home in no time. And Dad and Ima can’t very well get mad at us, since Dad didn’t pick us up in the first place.”

  “We should at least try calling Ima first,” Caroline said, although she could tell she was on the very edge of losing the argument.

  “I already texted her twice. She hasn’t responded. She’s probably busy delivering a baby or doing another doctorly thing.” Lara made a face. “Come on. You guys aren’t afraid of going on the bus, are you?”

  “Of course not,” Aviva said quickly. Caroline shook her head, even though she was still convinced it was all a terrible idea.

  And so when Lara marched toward the bus stop, Caroline followed a mere half step behind.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

  A MOST UNUSUAL SIGHTING

  LOCATION: Outside of Pinecone Arts Academy, 3:00 p.m.

  EVENT: Dad doesn’t pick us up from school.

  QUESTION FOR FURTHER INVESTIGATION: Has he forgotten about us?

  Lara peered out the bus window, fingers flapping lightly against her jeans. She wasn’t about to admit it to Caroline and Aviva, but she didn’t feel completely sure they’d gotten on the right bus. She was more like mostly sure.
Okay, mostly-ish.

  Caroline tapped Lara on the shoulder for about the twelfth time in as many minutes. She didn’t have her speech app open, since she was currently engrossed in doing something on her phone, but Lara understood the gesture’s meaning perfectly.

  “Yes, we’re on the right bus,” Lara said for the twelfth time. “Trust me.”

  In a seat across from them, Aviva swung her legs back and forth. She kept flitting her gaze about, as though someone might descend at any moment to catch them riding the bus without permission.

  “Don’t you have buses in Israel?” Lara asked, irked by Aviva’s skittishness.

  Aviva straightened her back and stopped swinging. “Certainly,” she said. “Although they usually smell better than this.”

  “Of course they do,” Lara muttered. She didn’t bother resisting the impulse to roll her eyes.

  “This bus is going to take us home, right?” Aviva asked.

  “For the millionth time, yes. I’m sure of it,” Lara said. It was only a tiny lie. Hardly a lie at all, really. “I’ve taken the bus home from school before.”

  She very purposefully did not mention that the scenes rolling past in the windows didn’t feel quite right to her. After all, it had been months since she’d last taken the bus. In another few minutes she’d start to see more familiar sights—the park in the Finkels’ neighborhood, the Dairy Queen they sometimes visited together. She just had to wait a little.

  The bus lurched to a stop. Lara groaned when she spotted a horde of people entering. They looked like high school kids, and while Lara generally didn’t mind high schoolers, high school kids on the bus was another matter altogether. In Lara’s experience, they tended to be even louder than most other bus riders. The presence of a whole group of them was sure to generate a truly unbearable level of noise.

  Lara flapped her hands a bit harder as the group invaded the bus. She soon found herself staring at a purple backpack just inches from her face. Ugh—why did high school kids have to carry such enormous bags all the time?

  After the bus made a few stops, the crowd thinned and Lara found it easier to breathe. She glanced out the window again, hoping to catch sight of a landmark she recognized.

  Instead, she was met with a very familiar face reflected in the glass.

  “Noah!” Lara blurted out. “What are you doing here?”

  Lara stared at her brother. He stared back. Noah didn’t seem particularly surprised to see her, and she wondered if he’d spotted her first. Why hadn’t he said hi?

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  He gave a slight smile. “I could ask you the same question. I probably should, being the older brother and all.”

  “We are going home from school,” Lara informed him. He didn’t really need to know anything more than that.

  Noah’s eyebrows shot upward. “Really? Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes. Why?” Lara could feel Caroline’s shoulder muscles clench up. Her sister had stopped the constant tapping on her phone.

  “Well, this bus doesn’t go anywhere near our house,” Noah said.

  “What? I thought the 745 stopped on our street!”

  Caroline glared, and Lara could just hear her saying “I told you so.”

  “Yeah, the 745 does go by our house. But you want the bus going in the other direction. This bus will take you to Bothell if you stay on long enough,” Noah said. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you don’t want to go there.”

  A heavy flush spread itself all over Lara’s face and neck. It was, she had to admit, kind of an embarrassing mistake. Both Caroline and Aviva looked most displeased. Lara couldn’t really blame them. She struggled to keep calm.

  “Okay, so I made a little mistake. But it’s easy enough to fix it. We just get off at the next stop, cross the street, and get on the other bus. Right?”

  Lara wished she could take back the shakiness that crept into her voice as she laid out the new plan.

  Noah nodded. “Yeah, that’s definitely what you should do. Only . . . are you guys okay? Why isn’t Dad picking you up?”

  “He wanted me to show Lina-Lin and Aviva how to take the bus,” Lara said. Her stomach squirmed at the lie. “And it’s definitely been an adventure, hasn’t it?”

  A sharp poke from Caroline told Lara everything she needed to know about her sister’s opinion on the matter.

  Noah opened his mouth to say more, but the sudden jerk of the bus prevented Lara from paying attention to whatever it was he had to say. She grabbed Caroline’s hand and leaped up from her seat. “Come on. We need to get off now.”

  Lara supposed she should be grateful that the other two followed her without further comment.

  As they waited for another bus to come around—the correct one, hopefully—a pressing question started to nag Lara. If the bus didn’t go to the Finkels’ house, then why was Noah still riding it?

  * * *

  * * *

  Somehow, they made it back to the Finkel house without any further incident. Lara felt a burst of pride when she rounded the corner and saw that familiar yellow door. From the exhaustion drooping all over Caroline’s face, Lara knew better than to say “See! I told you I could get us home!”

  But she certainly thought it.

  Her next task was decidedly less pleasant, though she just didn’t see any way around it. Lara needed to talk with Dad.

  He was in his office, of course. The door was completely closed, and Lara could hear the faintly tapping symphony of his keyboard. She tried to tell herself that he was typing very important things, things that would help him get a new job. Still, that didn’t change the basic facts. Dad had forgotten them.

  Lara opened the door. Knocking seemed rather unnecessary. Her father’s head jerked toward the door immediately, and the moment he saw her, his mouth fell into a grimace. “L-Lara! Gosh, I’m so sorry . . . I must have lost track of time.”

  “It’s okay,” Lara told him, even though it wasn’t. “We got home fine. We just went on the bus.”

  “Good, good.” Dad’s expression still spoke plainly of discomfort. “But . . . Benny!”

  It took a moment for Lara to catch her father’s meaning, but when she did, her face paled several shades. Benny! Was he still standing in front of his elementary school, waiting for a ride home that wouldn’t come?

  Then she remembered and the fear went away. “It’s Tuesday. He goes over to his friend’s house on Tuesday and they work on robotics projects.”

  “Right, of course.” Dad let out a breath loud enough to hear even over the laptop’s humming fan. “That was some smart thinking with the bus. I really don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am, Lara-bear. I know it’s a bogus excuse, but I was really busy working. I just got caught up in things and it completely slipped my mind that it was time to go pick you guys up.”

  Lara’s skin felt as though she’d stumbled into a bathtub full of hot needles. She hadn’t really been mad at her father for forgetting to pick them up. Not really. But now, listening to the humongous lie, she felt very angry indeed.

  “I know you lost your job,” Lara told him. Her voice trembled, which probably meant that she ought to stop talking, at least for a bit. She kept at it anyway. “Stop lying to me! I know you weren’t working! You were just here, doing . . . I don’t even know what you could have been doing.”

  Lara’s skin prickled as she waited to hear what her father was going to say. For a very long time, he didn’t say anything at all.

  She could imagine what he must be thinking. Mind your own business, Lara. Stop being so annoying, Lara. Leave things to the adults, Lara.

  Dad didn’t say any of those things. When the silence finally came to an end, a single word came out. “Yes.”

  Lara wished he would have told her off. She wished he would have done anything excep
t just sit there, silent and still aside from the nervous twitching in his fingers.

  “Do your siblings know?” he asked after another heavy silence.

  “Caroline does,” Lara replied. “So does Aviva.”

  Dad exhaled and nodded. “Please don’t tell anyone else. I don’t want to worry them. I’m going to find another job really soon.”

  An alarming thought entered her mind. “Does . . . does Ima know?” she asked.

  “Of course she does.” Dad looked bewildered at the question, and Lara allowed herself a small sigh of relief. “So does your aunt Miriam, of course. We just thought it would be best not to worry you kids.”

  Lara thought back to Aviva’s anxious pacing when Dad failed to show up this afternoon. To Caroline’s nervous fidgets. She couldn’t help but think the grown-ups had done a very poor job of not worrying the rest of them.

  She considered saying so, but one look at her father’s face made her think better of it. “Okay,” she mumbled.

  “Thanks, Lara-bear.” At long last, Dad’s face relaxed into something that resembled his typical expression. “I really am so sorry that I missed picking you guys up. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

  “Okay,” Lara repeated.

  Yet she wasn’t sure she believed him.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

  THE CASE OF THE WEIRD PARENTS

  LOCATION: House, 4:30 p.m.

  EVENT: Talked to Dad. He admitted that he lost his job. Finally.

  QUESTION FOR FURTHER INVESTIGATION: Why does one bad thing happening mean that everything else falls apart?

  Lara definitely did not continue to dwell on the afternoon’s events. No, she put every effort toward doing other things. Math homework, reading her favorite Georgia Ketteridge fan pages, and even a little bat mitzvah prep. (Very little, if she was being honest.)

  After staring at the same Hebrew word for five minutes, Lara had to admit that maybe she really was thinking about Dad and his troubles.