Donut Days (15 page)

From the corner of my eye I noticed my cell phone light flashing. I took off my headphones and looked at the caller ID. My whole body went rigid. JOCONNOR. Suddenly, words piled up in my mouth so quickly that I couldn’t get them out fast enough.

“Jake,” I said, snapping the phone open, “I’m so glad it’s you. I—”

“Emmie!” Lizzie cried.

My emotions fizzled. “Hey, Lizzie,” I said, trying not to sound too disappointed. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah. I’m eating chicken nuggets.”

“It’s kind of late for you to be up. You think you might go to bed soon?”

Lizzie skirted the question. “Jake gave me horsey rides all around the house.” Her little voice sounded so light and perfect, I almost wished I could tape-record it. I could picture her sticky hands clutching the phone against her soft blond hair.

“You gotta go to bed soon, okay? Otherwise Jake’s going to get into trouble.”

“Will you come home and tuck me in?”

My heart felt like it was being pushed through a strainer. “Sorry, kiddo,” I said. “I can’t. But Jake will give you a kiss for me, okay? And I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you, Emmie,” said Lizzie, and I heard the phone being shuffled around. The next thing I knew, Jake was on the line.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I replied. “You hear anything about the board meeting yet?”

“No,” Jake said. “But I had an idea.”

“What?”

“I think we should still try to get the information about Mollico to the board. I think it can still have an effect.”

I zipped and unzipped a corner of my sleeping bag. “Except you’re at my house babysitting Lizzie. And I’m stuck at the camp without a ride.”

“So then I’ll grab Lizzie and we’ll come pick you up. I’ve got the documents on my cell, and we can pass them around. We should go through with the plan we made earlier—we’re just doing it later is all. And with Lizzie.”

My gut twisted as I thought about my mom. “You sure we should do this? I mean, we’ll be crashing the board meeting.”

“Yes. One hundred percent. You trust me, right?”

I stared down the abyss. “Yes. And I love you.” The words slid out. Just like that.

No one spoke for a moment. Then I heard Jake clear his throat. “Well.”

I put my head in my hand. “Well.”

“So, uh, what now?” Jake asked, after a moment.

I have nothing left to lose
, I thought.
I may as well just put everything out there.
“Now we go face the church board,” I said. “We can talk about our feelings after our parents have forbidden us from ever seeing each other again. What do you say?”

I could hear the smile in Jake’s voice. “All right. Let’s do this. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“Okay,” I said. Instantly my blood felt warmer, like I was hooked up to an IV pumping me full of adrenaline. “I’m ready.”

I
was throwing my notebook and pen back into my knit bag, getting ready to meet Jake in the parking lot, when I stopped suddenly. Someone was calling my name.

“Emma,” said a voice. “Emma, come out here, now.”

Was Jake here already? I unzipped my tent an inch and got the surprise of my life.

It was Natalie. At my tent.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered.

“Come outside,” she said. “I have to talk to you.”

I unzipped my tent fully and stepped out. The September night air was chilly, and I shivered.

“Get your fleece,” she said. “We have to go somewhere where we can talk.”

“About what?”

“Just trust me, okay?”

Natalie’s face looked twisted in the eerie
X-Files
light of the donut camp. What was going on? Nat’s eyes were dark—too dark for me to see if they glinted with malice.

“Where’s Molly?” I asked, looking around.

“Sleeping,” she said. “Just come on, okay? Seriously. We have to talk.”

“I can’t,” I said. “Someone’s picking me up in a few minutes. I have to go.”

“This will only take a few minutes. Where are they picking you up?”

“The Crispy Dream parking lot.”

“That’s where my car is. We can talk there and watch for them. Okay?”

“What’s this about?”

“Just come
on
already,” said Nat, rolling her eyes.

“Fine,” I said, and reached inside my tent for my fleece. I was trying to be chill about the whole thing—like I
supposed
I could take three minutes and talk to Nat if she was going to be this completely persistent about it. But inside I felt like a scientist staring through a microscope and not having the faintest clue what was crawling around inside the petri dish at the bottom of the lens. What was going on?

I pulled on my fleece and looked at Nat. “Follow me,” she said, and took off trotting through the camp.

I followed her to her Honda in the parking lot. Back when we were friends, we’d christened it the Jane Fonda Honda. “Get in,” Nat said. “I’ll start it and we can warm up.” We hopped in and Nat revved the engine.

“I only have a couple minutes,” I said as Nat fiddled with the heat. I tried to keep breathing normally and not get too swept up in the fact that Natalie and I were talking. Did this mean she was going to apologize? Would she say she was sorry so we could be friends again?

Nat pulled her hands inside her sweatshirt sleeves to warm them. “This won’t take long. I just wanted to tell you something. It’s about Molly.”

I tried not to look too surprised. And disappointed. Why did she want to talk to me about her newfound best friend? “What about her?” I asked.

Nat, still with her hands inside her sweatshirt sleeves, gripped the steering wheel hard. “Molly saw you and Jake together this morning and she’s pissed. She says she wants you to stay away from anyone she’s related to.”

I scoffed. “So what? Am I supposed to care what she thinks?”

Nat looked out the window, seeming to scan the parking lot. “Em, there’s more to this, but I can’t tell you what. So if you’re seriously leaving the camp in a few minutes, don’t come back. Okay?”

“What? Why?”

“I said I can’t tell you. So just take off and don’t come back.”

After all our recent fights, why was Nat suddenly trying to protect me? Something wasn’t right. “Why do you want me to go? So you and Molly can have the place to yourselves?”

“What? No.”

“Then what is going on?”

“What if I told you your family needed you?” asked Nat.

“What do you mean?”

“The board just voted that your mom shouldn’t preach,” she said.

I sat back in the deep bucket seat of the Honda and closed my eyes. So that was it. The board had voted to remove my mom.

I tried counting to ten so I wouldn’t lose it. Not in front of Nat. Plus I had to stay calm enough to call Jake and tell him he didn’t need to come pick me up.

“Are you okay?” asked Nat quietly.

“I’m fine,” I said, digging for my phone. “No thanks to you.”

“What does that mean?”

I was pulling things out of my bag, trying to locate my cell. I was getting more and more frantic. “Oh, just go back to your camp with your new best friend Molly, why don’t you. You keep looking around anyway. For her, right? Like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“No!”

“Oh, really?” By this time half my bag’s contents were on the floor of the car and there was no cell phone. I’d forgotten it in my tent. I scrambled to get everything back in the bag and not burst into tears. “Well, you could have fooled me.”

The tears started rolling down my face anyway, and I didn’t want Nat to see them. I pushed open the door of the Jane Fonda Honda, got out, then slammed it behind me.

“Em!” Natalie called after me, but I ignored her. I ran across the Loon Willow parking lot, back toward the camp. I had to get ahold of Jake—and fast.

As I trotted through the camp, trying not to sob too loudly, I got closer to my tent and slowed down. I saw lights flashing and heard voices and commotion.

I walked quickly toward the lights, wiping my nose and trying to get a grip on myself. Was Bear okay? Had something happened to one of the Angelfire Witnesses? I thought about Wichita going through the old lady ’s front porch and shuddered. Saved or not, the group might have some Death’s Screamers left in them after all.

I got closer and saw one of the rent-a-cops standing and talking to Bear. Then I saw a second rent-a-cop come out of my tent.

“Hey!” I cried, rushing forward. “What are you doing? You can’t go in there!”

“Excuse me,” said the rent-a-cop. He was skinny on both ends and round in the middle, like a glazed twist. “Are you Emma Goiner?”

“Yes, I’m Emma Goiner. What are you doing in my tent?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you a few questions,” said the rent-a-cop.

“Questions? About what?”

“About the ten thousand dollars we found in your tent,” he said, grabbing my arm and not letting go.

I
’m sorry, but there’s been a mistake,” I said. “I don’t have ten thousand dollars. You couldn’t have found it in my tent.” I looked at the donut rent-a-cop’s name badge: Rusty. “You’ve made a mistake, Rusty,” I said.

Rusty puffed up his chest like he was insulted. “I got a witness here says different,” he proclaimed.

“What?”

“That’s her, Officer,” said Molly O’Connor, stepping forward and standing next to Rusty. Her blond extensions looked streaky in the flashing lights. “That’s the one I saw breaking into that woman’s motorcycle.”

I was glad I hadn’t eaten dinner or I would have thrown up right then.

Rusty glanced over at Molly, then back at me. “Emma Goiner, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to come down to the station to answer some questions,” he said again.

Does a donut cop have this kind of authority?
I wondered. And then, beyond Rusty, I saw Anita standing next to Bear, both of them veiled by shadows only a few feet away.

“Anita! Bear! I didn’t do this!” I waved my right arm and called at them, but I wasn’t sure either of them heard or saw me.

“Bear!” I called, my voice getting higher and more panicked.

“Keep your voice down,” Rusty said sharply.

Molly smirked at me. I looked at her and suddenly understood how hatred welled up in a person enough to drive them crazy. I didn’t trust myself to move or speak because I felt like at any second I might lunge at her throat or gouge her eyeballs out with my bare hands.

“Time to go,” said Rusty, who still had ahold of my left arm. More roughly than necessary, he jerked me toward the waiting car. I was too scared to say anything about the way I was being handled in front of all the gathering people. Trying not to stumble or let my emotions show too much, I let Rusty lead me to the waiting vehicle. The assembled donut campers peered over each other and pushed to the front to get a look. At me. At the freak.

Now I wasn’t just a pariah at Living Word, I was one at the donut camp too. Not to mention I was a thief and a Judas.

Just before I bent my head to get into the car, I caught a glimpse of Natalie, who had run to the spot where Molly stood. Her warm, heavy breath made little tufts of white air in the cool night. My heart lurched when I saw Jake standing next to her. His mouth was open like he’d started to talk but his words had dried up, and he was holding Lizzie’s hand. When Lizzie caught sight of me, her eyes got big and surprised. Then she promptly burst into tears.

“Lizzie!” I cried, but Jake had already picked her up in his strong arms and was carrying her away from the scene.

“Emma—” Nat said, taking a step toward me, but Molly reached out and stopped her.

“In you go now,” said Rusty, who pushed me inside the car. The door slammed shut, and Rusty climbed in the front seat a moment later.

“Hope you got a lawyer, Miss Goiner,” he said as he threw the car into drive and flicked the sirens a couple times to clear the crowd. “Cuz you’re sure going to need one.”

 

 

 

They didn’t put me in a cell or anything. They put me in an interrogation room. There was one table in the whole room, rectangular, with three chairs around it: two on one side and one chair on the other. I sat on the side that had two chairs.

Everything in the interrogation room was chrome and metal and cold and uncomfortable, except the floor. That was worse. It was made of a dirty gray tile—probably white when it was new—that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. I wondered how many criminals’ shoes had scuffed across it and left their mark.

On the far wall was a two-way mirror. I knew they could see me, but I couldn’t see them. If “they” were even watching. Who would “they ” be, anyhow? Rusty? Was he even a real cop? Was Bear here? Would he press charges against me?

I wished I had my cell so I could dial Jake’s number. Or call my parents. Just then, an officer—not Rusty—stepped into the room. He was carrying a clipboard and looked at the papers, then at me.

“Well, you’re in a pickle now, aren’t you?” he asked. I looked at the pimples on his chin, at his skinny forearms, and guessed he was all of five years older than me. But here he was, acting like he was in charge of the whole town.

“Officer Malcolm,” I said, looking at the name on the policeman’s badge, “can I call my parents?”

“No need to,” he said. “They just called us. Someone must have told them about your incident at the donut camp. I came in here to give you the happy news and let you know they ’re on their way now.”

My heart felt like it was pounding in my throat. “Okay,” I croaked, and Malcolm left the room. I put my head down on the table and wished I could melt away into a puddle. A janitor could come wipe me up later, then wring me out of his mop. I’d get rinsed down the drain and never have to face my parents. At the police station. Where I was accused of stealing ten thousand dollars. I had been set up and could be going to jail. And my parents, who had just had the worst day of their lives, were going to get sucker punched again. This time by me.