Tessa (From Fear to Faith) (13 page)

25

T
o my surprise, Mom arrived promptly at seven thirty the next morning to drive me to school. She acted so normal that I felt guilty for distrusting her. But when school let out, for the first time ever she was not waiting out front in her black car. I searched the parking lot and checked the side streets. No sign of her. In growing dismay, I turned back toward the building.

The other students were scattering into the parking lot in little groups. A few stragglers were still getting on the buses. Should I ask someone for a ride? What if Mom came later and found me gone?

A horn blared on the street behind me, and a familiar voice shouted my name. I turned. Nosed into the curb was Patty’s red car. I hurried over.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked, opening the passenger door.

“She’s at the hospital. Walter’s been in a car accident. She called and asked me to pick you up. Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s okay.” I swung myself inside, dropping my knapsack on the floor with a thump. “So, how is he?”

“I don’t know. The doctors were still checking him over when she called.”

“All right.” I wasn’t concerned. Walter had been in three accidents in the last year, and each time, he’d managed to walk away unharmed. He was as indestructible as he was mean.

I settled back in the seat and closed my eyes. But tired as I was, I couldn’t relax. Mom’s excuse didn’t make sense. Why would she rush to the hospital to be with Walter, after the way he’d beaten her up the other night? Was she even able to walk across that big parking lot? The more I thought about it, the more I doubted her story. Even if Walter was injured, I couldn’t imagine Mom going to see him unless she had to. Maybe she had abandoned me, and the accident story was a cover-up.

The next few hours passed in a fog. I could hardly function, let alone do homework. If only Mom would call and explain what was going on!

The call didn’t come until seven o’clock. Tom answered, then held out the phone to me. “It’s your mom.”

I swallowed and took the phone. “Hi, Mom.”

“I just wanted to touch base with you,” she said. “You heard about Walter’s accident, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, Patty said something. Was it bad?” From the music and laughter in the background, I knew Mom wasn’t calling from the hospital. I guessed she was at a bar.

“Kind of. He’s pretty banged up. He’s got a smashed arm and a broken leg. They think he’ll recover all right, but he won’t be going anywhere for a while. His truck is a total wreck.”

“Really. What happened?”

“He crossed the center line on County P just out of town and hit a dump truck.” She sounded disgusted. “I can’t believe he’s in as good a shape as he is.”

“So he’s in the hospital?”

“Yeah, for now. Say, I was gonna ask you. Have you still got a key to that old Impala?”

“Somewhere. Why?”

“Somewhere doesn’t help me much. Is it there with you?”

“How should I know? It was probably in one of the pairs of jeans lying around my room.”

“I think I packed all your good jeans. Can you check and see if you have it?”

“I suppose.” Amid curious looks from the others, I carried the handset with me down the hall to my makeshift bedroom. In the pile of clothes on the freezer, I found my newest pair of jeans. In the front pocket was a ring with three keys.

“I’ve got it,” I reported.

“Good. Maybe you could give it to me tomorrow when I come. I wanna get that car out of there before the snow gets too deep.”

“Okay. Where are you, anyway?”

Mom laughed at that. “Steve’s, on Grand Avenue. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” I remembered the place all too well. Last winter we’d spent almost every weekend at that downtown tavern. Mom and Walter were good friends with the owners. Lately, however, Walter had been avoiding the place in favor of some less reputable establishments down by the river.

“So, how are things going for you?” Mom asked me.

“Pretty good, I guess.”

“I never thought I’d make an arrangement like this,” she apologized.

“It’s okay. I sort of like it.”

“Well, tell Ericksons I appreciate it. When those doctors got done with Walter, one of them asked what happened to me. I told him I fell down the stairs, but I don’t think he bought it. He’s like, ‘That’s some fall. How about if we check out that leg.’ It hurts so bad I let them do it. But it turns out it’s just a really bad bruise.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. So, I’m gonna let you go here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I hung up feeling much better. Mom couldn’t be lying. If she were really hundreds of miles away, she wouldn’t need the key to the Impala. And the music in the background sure did sound like Steve’s. I must be paranoid, thinking I could foretell Mom’s plans by the number of socks she packed.

I laughed aloud at the thought. She’d likely packed my stuff in a tearing rush and not counted anything.

Later that evening, after another hot bath, I wrapped up in a blanket and wandered out to the empty living room. Heather had gone to bed, but from the light under their door, I knew Tom and Patty were still up.

I settled on the couch and pulled a magazine from the rack. After last night’s bad dreams, I wasn’t eager to go to bed. Maybe if Patty saw me out here, she would stop and talk to me.

In a few minutes, Patty emerged from her bedroom, carrying an empty mug. Sadie followed at her heels.

“Why Tessa, aren’t you in bed yet?”

“It’s dark and lonely out there,” I protested.

Patty went to the back door and let Sadie out, then returned to the living room. “Tell you what. You go get in bed, and I’ll come in a few minutes and say goodnight. How’s that?”

“All right.” I tried to hide the little smile that sprang to my lips. Everyone would say I was too old for that kind of attention, but Patty was a grandma. Maybe grandmas did things like this.

When Patty came, she tucked me into bed the way Mom used to. Then she asked God to give me a good sleep and keep the nightmares away. “Goodnight, I love you,” she finished. Turning out the light, she went softly away.

I lay still, unwilling to move lest I break the wonderful spell she had cast. Inside I felt peace and a deep contentment that I hadn’t felt in years. I wanted to stay awake and savor it, but the warm bed made me drowsy. Soon I drifted into sleep.

26

T
he in
sistent ringing of the telephone jolted me awake. It couldn’t be Mom again, could it? I rolled out of bed and stumbled down the hall, rubbing my eyes. Patty stood talking on the kitchen phone. She was barefoot and held a wet toothbrush in her free hand.

“We’ll work something out,” she was saying. “No, it’s okay, really. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” She hung up.

“What was that?” I demanded. By now Tom had appeared in his pajamas to see what the stir was.

“That was Julie. It seems she left the hospital and was going through State Street intersection when she got broadsided by somebody running the red light. She isn’t hurt, but her car’s in pretty bad shape. She asked if we could drive her home.”

“Sure, why not,” Tom drawled. “We are the late-night emergency crew nowadays. I guess I’d better get dressed again.”

I slipped off to my room without a word. Fear clawed at my throat. Why was everything going wrong? My hands shook as I pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt. Tom and Patty might disapprove, but I had to see Mom.

I met Patty at the back closet, buttoning her coat. I ducked behind her and grabbed mine off the hook. She turned in surprise. “Why Tessa, you don’t have to come.”

“I don’t mind. I’m used to staying up until midnight,” I said. “I can even drive if you like.”

Patty raised her eyebrows. “You can drive? You don’t have a license, do you?”

“Well, no.”

Tom appeared then in his red flannel shirt and jeans. Together the three of us trudged out into the cold and piled into Tom’s SUV. Tom drove.

Mom had called a tow truck and then hitched a ride to the 24-hour convenience store on Park Avenue, where she’d told Patty to pick her up. When we arrived, the parking lot was deserted. Tom pulled into the space nearest the door and tapped the horn.

Mom hobbled outside. “Thanks so much,” she said, as she opened the rear door and got in. “I could’ve gotten the tow guy to give me a ride home, but I didn’t like the looks of him.” Then she turned her attention to me. “Tessa! What’re you doing here?”

On impulse, I fished in my pocket and handed her the key to the Impala. “Here. Might as well give this to you before I forget.”

Her face broke into a tired smile. “Tess, you’re amazing. A real lifesaver.”

My cheeks warmed with the unusual praise. “Yeah. I even offered to drive, but Patty doesn’t trust me.”

“You brat,” she scolded playfully. “You’re gonna ruin my good reputation yet. What else are you telling them?”

“Oh, I told Heather all about Genevieve, and how much fun she had the night she ran loose in my room.”

“Oh brother. That explains why your room still smells.”

I laughed, and the conversation ended. We rode along in silence for several minutes.

“Well, this does it,” Mom said then. “Tomorrow I’ll have to figure out how to get me another car. Of course, there’s the old Impala,” she added, as if she’d just thought of it. “It probably still runs. But I’d have to get out there somehow. Even if I could walk, which I can’t, it would take me like . . . two hours?” She glanced at me for confirmation.

“Yeah, probably.” Worry tugged at my mind. Why was Mom talking so freely around Tom and Patty?

Mom was silent for a while. Then she leaned forward. “Sorry to impose on your kindness, Mr. Erickson, but could you drop me off at my brother-in-law’s place instead? We’ve got an old car we keep there.”

My heart lurched.
She wouldn’t!

“Where is the place?” Tom asked.

“It’s only a couple of extra miles.”

“I suppose. How do I get there?”

My anxiety diminished as I realized Mom was taking Tom to the farmhouse the back way. By going in through the field and parking behind the outbuildings, she would disguise both the location and the deplorable condition of the place. Tom would assume it was just another farm. The plan was daring, but with a little luck, it would probably work.

A few miles past Vance Road, we turned left. Dirt replaced the blacktop as the road narrowed and began to wind along the base of a high ridge. The surrounding land was mostly wooded, with an occasional isolated farmstead. Every now and then the road widened out to form a Y.

“Your brother-in-law lives way out here?” Tom queried.

“No, but he’s got a cabin of sorts.” Mom’s voice was too sharp. “There’s the driveway, on your left.”

Tom slammed on the brakes and made the tight turn. The narrow field lane might have indeed passed for a driveway if it weren’t for the two inches of fresh snow obscuring the wheel tracks. Tom drove slowly, rolling over bumps and slipping into ruts. To our right lay a snow-covered cornfield; to our left, a brushy woods.

“Don’t get stuck,” Patty warned, as the vehicle began to climb a slight incline. I nodded in silent assent. Even Walter’s three-quarter-ton pickup had gotten stuck out here a few times.

Rounding the corner at the end of the field, Tom nearly collided with a rusty combine smothered in a tangle of vines and brush.

“Oh, that thing,” I said.

Mom turned toward me so sharply I could almost hear her reprimand.
I’m running this thing. Don’t ruin it.
Then she leaned close to the side window to watch for the turnoff.

“Okay, hold it. Turn left right here.”

The SUV jolted to a stop. “Right
where?
This is getting crazy, Julie.”

“Right between those trees. There’s a gate, see?”

I nearly choked. Anybody could see the barbed wire had been cut.

Tom sounded skeptical. “It’s how much farther to this place?”

“Oh, maybe an eighth mile.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Tom turned the steering wheel and proceeded through the narrow opening onto the next property. He drove slowly, following a faint trail that wound between patches of sumac. At length the headlights shone upon a group of dilapidated buildings.

I was so nervous I had to clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. This was it. If anything went wrong now, we’d be in huge trouble.

“There’s the car,” Mom said, indicating a snow-covered shape next to a low shed.

Tom pulled up alongside it. “So, you guys actually own this car, Julie?”

“Of course we do. I hope you didn’t think I was stealing it.” Mom gave a quick laugh.

A brief, awkward silence followed.

“Oh come on,” she groaned. “Don’t you trust me at all?” She tugged a piece of paper from her pocket, unfolded it, and thrust it at Tom. “Look.”

Tom flipped on the dome light. I craned my neck until I could make out the heading on the envelope-sized paper. It was the registration for the Impala.

“Okay.” Tom sounded satisfied. “Will the thing start? I didn’t bring my jumper cables.”

Mom tucked the paper back into her pocket and opened the door. “I don’t know for sure. Maybe you could stay a minute until I get it going.”

“I know how to start it,” I said.

“Will you shut up?” Mom slammed the door and began to brush the snow off the white car with her mittens. I hunched in my seat and wished I were back at Tom and Patty’s, asleep. This trip had turned into a lot more than I’d bargained for.

The old car cranked slowly, but at last it roared to life. Mom lifted her hand in a gesture I took to mean “thanks and goodbye,” then pulled a scraper from the back seat and began to chip ice from the windows.

“I guess we can go,” I said. “You just sort of turn around and go out the way we came.”

“So where does your uncle live?” Tom asked, after we’d made it back onto the road.

“My uncle?” I tried to think where he’d gotten that idea.

“Wouldn’t your mom’s brother-in-law be your uncle?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so.” I tried to remember what Mom had said about this imaginary relative on the way there. “I wanna say Chicago, but I’m not real sure. He moves around quite a bit.”

“And he comes up here to go hunting or something?”

“Yeah. In the fall.”

“What does he do the rest of the time?”

“Go left here,” I directed, as we came to the first branch in the road. “I don’t know what he does. Why?”

“Just curious,” Tom said, and dropped the subject.

It was past two by the time we returned to the house. I quickly got ready for bed. Then I slipped out to the kitchen for a glass of water. On the way back to my room, I heard talking in Tom and Patty’s bedroom. I paused outside their door.

“You see what I mean,” Patty was saying. “That Julie is a con artist, or worse. This is the last time I’m doing anything for her.”

“Yes, she’s quite a character,” Tom agreed. “But I think I’m too tired to figure it out tonight.”

Then the lights went out, and I heard them get into bed. “Oh Lord,” Patty prayed. “Please, let us sleep the rest of the night. No more car accidents, nightmares, and doorbells.”

“Amen,” murmured Tom.

I could not dismiss my worries as easily as Tom had. I lay wide awake for at least another hour. Why had Mom taken such a foolish chance? Wouldn’t it have been better to walk the two hours – even with a bruised leg? Maybe the whole incident had been some kind of setup, some plan to get out to the farmhouse without being followed. Maybe she was going to load the car with meth, then split for the Twin Cities or someplace and sell it.

Round and round my mind went, each possibility crazier and more frightening, until at last, exhausted, I sank into a restless sleep.