The Healing Power of Sugar: The Ghost Bird Series: #9 (The Academy Ghost Bird Series) (25 page)

“You don’t have to worry about her,” Nathan said. “We’re not going far. If she gets cold, I’ll bring her back to change.”

There was an awkward pause and I looked at the wall, as I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I change now so I might not have to come back? Or casually suggest I bring clothes if there might be a problem?

I also got the feeling there was something more to what they were debating. There really shouldn’t have been this much tension around what I was wearing.

“Right,” Kota said finally. “I guess.” He turned, opened the door, and held onto it for us.

I clenched my teeth, looking up. Kota was simply holding the door, the confusion gone from his face. Nathan urged me on. I wished one of the others was around to help relieve the tension.

Could I be mistaken? Was I just imagining it? Being paranoid? I wondered if my own feelings were putting off my judgement of their behavior.

Nathan closed up the house while Kota and I waited on the porch. Then, we walked together toward the road, and when I started to turn toward Kota’s house, Kota redirected me.

Surprised, I followed, realizing we were heading to the diner. Nathan walked to my left, Kota on my right. I stayed quiet, remembering Kota’d mentioned the diner, but I wondered why we got so dressed up if we were heading over to help out.

I don’t know why I hadn’t thought to ask what Thanksgiving was like for the boys. I just assumed everyone had their own family traditions. In my mind, I figured if Nathan did anything special, it was probably to go to Kota’s house, or possibly with one of the others. Nathan and I were pretty much the only ones without someone for Thanksgiving.

I realized the diner must have changed things for them. I hoped it wouldn’t be too busy so we could relax a bit. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for the holiday?

We rounded the bend in the road and the diner came into view. The lot was packed with cars. The front porch had a line going out to the parking lot.

I slowed, suddenly uncertain about heading into such a crowded area.

Kota stopped, and when he did, Nathan did as well. Kota looked back at me with a small smile. “Something wrong?”

“What are all those people doing here on a holiday?” I asked, my voice scratchy with panic. “It’s so busy. Are you sure we should go? What if Mr. McCoy…or Mr. Hendricks is there?”

Kota opened his mouth to speak and then looked at Nathan, perplexed. “Did we not tell her?”

Nathan shrugged and then started to laugh, rubbing a palm over the back of his neck. “I guess we didn’t. I just assumed you did.”

Kota broke into a big smile, seeming to immediately break the tension between them. “They won’t be here. If they swing by, they’ll realize they’ve stopped in at a bad time. On Thanksgiving, we usually go down to the homeless shelter and pass out food. Funny enough, it actually gets overcrowded with volunteers down there at this time of year. A lot of the college students take it over.”

“So Uncle thought up a new tradition for us,” Nathan said. He waved toward the lines of people waiting to get inside the building. This time when I looked, a group of teenagers—about our age—left together with armloads of cardboard boxes. From the way they carried the boxes, they appeared to be full and heavy. They piled each box carefully into the back of an SUV. Once the boxes were secure, they talked briefly to each other, before they split up—half going to the SUV and the rest into another car—and drove away.

Kota put his arm around me, pointing to the SUV driving away. “See that?” he asked. “Remember the food you made all week?”

“Yeah,” I said, getting where this was going, yet wanting him to tell me.

“It’s not just the homeless that are hungry,” he said. “They deliver these to the poorer parts of the city, areas we manage. It can really help out.”

“We
manage
?” I asked.

Kota cringed. “Not sure if I was supposed to tell you.”

Nathan stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at the collection of people standing in line. “She’ll be finding out sooner or later.”

Kota’s eyes drifted to the crowd, and then back at me. With a fingertip, he shifted his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “The Academy,” he said simply.

My heart fluttered at the name. I’d been getting acquainted with the organization, yet still was surprised when I learned a new part of what they did. There had been hints before, but seeing these people taking food from the diner away, forced me to realize how much bigger it was than I’d previously thought. “The Academy manages parts of the city?”

“Entire neighborhoods,” Kota said. “Poorer sections. But not like slum-lords; we put good people in secure homes. When neighborhoods are safe, the children get good grades, better themselves, and there’s less crime in general. Once they become a true community, they require less management. Just the occasional helping hand can be enough. We have an application process that’s a little different.”

“There’s lots of good people that have important, but low paying jobs,” Nathan said. “There’s no reason neighborhoods they live in shouldn’t be as safe as one like ours.”

I remembered how, not long ago, we had helped some children who were living in an abandoned store. I wondered if they ended up in one of these neighborhoods. “So we donate food around Thanksgiving?” I asked.

Kota laughed. “We sell the food to teams, and then they deliver them to different neighborhoods.”

Sell?
They ask the individual teams to pay for the boxes they take? “What? They don’t just donate the food?”

“The teams buy the food,” he said. “It’s a genius idea.”

“The money goes into a pool,” Nathan said. “Each team collects the money and pays for so many boxes. Then the money gets put into a charity pool and gets dispersed. It’s like a double giving. There’s some accounting reason they do it this way; Mr. Blackbourne helped put it together.”

Donations and giving food away. I turned again toward the diner, curiously studying the people who were waiting, and those who emerged from the diner with boxes. So this meant the majority of the Academy was here? Was that safe? If it was supposed to be so secret, how could they be so open like this?

Was the Academy such a secret, or only as secret as they led people to believe?

As we drew closer, I started to study faces. Some were older, around the age of Dr. Roberts, some our age, and a few a little younger but with an older adult around, directing them. The majority were in-between, adult men and women standing together. I wondered which ones belonged to what teams. They all seemed friendly and talkative.

It worried me that they were so exposed, when Volto or Mr. Hendricks could be nearby. But what did it really look like? Anyone coming by who perhaps didn’t know about the Academy for what it really was would just assume it was just a busy diner, or even if they approached and asked, it would look like an organized charity event. The fact that it was run by the Academy didn’t seem to matter. It wasn’t like they were doing anything illegal.

I stayed close to the boys as we headed toward the fray. I was nervous about bumping into these Academy people when I was still an outsider. I brushed my hand down over the material of the skirt, wondering if I should have worn something more formal, or should have done my hair better than the usual twist in a clip.

It was Nathan who drew my hand away from my body and held it in his. After a quiet, serious look at me, he squeezed my hand.

When Kota pulled away to open the back door of the diner, Nathan leaned in, and whispered, “You’re beautiful. Don’t worry.”

My cheeks warmed. I wanted to enjoy the compliment, but my nerves were rattling hard. I breathed in some courage, but squeezed his hand back in thanks.

Kota lead the way down the narrow hall. From that moment on, it was a shuffle and I forgot to look at faces or watch for secret handshakes or whatever the Academy did.

Even in the back, there was a line and people shuffling along. To me, it looked like chaos, and I scooted close to Kota, staying at his back, peeking around his shoulder at the crowd.

We ended up in a moving line and I wasn’t even sure where we were headed until we got close to the kitchen and I started to smell the food. My cheek was pressed to Kota’s shoulder, and Nathan was standing right behind me. Without them, I probably would have fainted from nerves.

The line moved slowly, but steadily. Soon, we were standing just inside the doorway to the kitchen. There were two lines of people standing around the large silver table in the middle. Now, under the bright florescent lights, I was able to recognize the others: waiters, waitresses, dishwashers and others employees of the diner.

Behind the silver table was Uncle, along with a couple more of the diner chefs. He had on a plain blue button up shirt, although the buttons were open, revealing a T-shirt underneath. The kitchen was warm, so I imagined he was working up a sweat as he worked.

As people got closer to the silver table, they picked up one of the large cardboard boxes from a stack. They went down the line, stopping in front of each chef’s station.

Each box received a small, already cooked and wrapped turkey and ham at the bottom: the largest items. On top, containers of vegetables, breads and desserts were piled in, along with napkins, plastic cutlery and paper plates. Every container was made of disposable materials.

I was shuffled into the line, and given my own box to hold. Uncle was in charge of the turkeys. He kept the rhythm, moving us along and encouraging the others to keep up—an important job with all the food that needed to go out.

Kota went first and Uncle dropped a turkey container into his box. Uncle seemed to be so absorbed in what he was doing, that he didn’t say anything to Kota at all. He was just another face who passed by.

However, when I went next, holding my box open, Uncle looked up at me and offered me a frenzied smile. “Good morning, little bird,” he said. “About time you joined us today.”

My smile wobbled. I’d had no idea I was even going to be here until ten minutes ago.

But he winked at me, so maybe he was joking.

As I made my way down the line, receiving the rest of the items, I was unsure what I was supposed to do after I filled the box. Was I supposed to buy it? Would I have to carry it back to the house to put it in one of the cars?

Kota went through the line and paused to wait for me and Nathan. Grateful, I shuffled in behind him. We threaded our way back down the hall, except this time, Kota turned and pushed through the swinging door of the main dining room.

My heart beat rapidly. Though my arms were quickly getting tired, I held the box close to my body, the bottom starting to warm with the hot turkey and ham. I held it like a shield, as if they would only see the box, and not me behind it.

The large dining area had changed. The usual tables and booths had been moved to the far sides of the room. There was a line to the counter. Some people had gathered near the stage off to the side, near the jukebox that was playing holiday music, talking and watching the line.

North was at the counter. He wore a black button up shirt and dark jeans. He was talking with someone as he counted cash and put it into a cash box next to him.

Victor stood beside him, dashing in his black slacks and white shirt, but this time, he wore a red tie. His wavy hair was brushed back away from his face and his fire eyes were simmering, friendly. He was jotting down things in a notebook as North spoke to him—taking notes or keeping tallies.

Dr. Green was there, too, wearing tan slacks and a green button up shirt and a yellow tie. His hair was a little messy, the light curls to his sandy blond hair occasionally flying into his face as he moved. He took boxes from people coming up, placed them in sets of two or four or six, and handed them off to the people on the other side of the counter.

He was here! It was a relief to see him. I wanted to talk to him, but with the flurry of activity, I was so distracted.

Luke and Gabriel stood by in front of the counter, but I only saw them for a moment, before they both picked up boxes and joined other groups in carrying them out.

I scanned the crowd, seeking out other familiar faces. Silas walked in with a group of young kids, leading them to the spot in front of the stage where there were other kids playing with trucks and Legos.

Silas sat down with them and seemed to be playing with them. Was he babysitting while parents got what they needed?

Finally, I noticed Mr. Blackbourne standing by the main door. Last night seemed like almost a dream now. He was in a fresh suit, the usual gray and maroon tie. His hair was perfection. His eyes showed no signs that he was tired at all. He greeted people as they entered and directed them to the lines.

It was controlled chaos. They were all working together to get the job done. Should I have expected any less from people who belonged to the Academy?

I didn’t dare look at anyone’s face, worried they might know I wasn’t really a part of the group yet. Did they all know each other?

Kota put his box on the counter. I put mine next to his and stopped, watching. Most people handed off their boxes and then went back into the kitchen again, presumably to make up more.

But instead of going back, I lingered, slowly shifting to stand next to Victor.

Victor wrote something in his notebook and then quietly looked up, smiling when he saw me. “Good morning, Princess,” he said.

I’d seen him throughout the week, but like always, when I hadn’t seen one of them alone in a while, I missed him dearly. It was too loud and busy to tell him, so I settled for a smile and reached for his hand.

He seemed to understand and grasped mine, his thumb tracing the back of my hand. “I can’t take a break,” he said. “North will—”

“Hey,” North said gruffly. “Keep up, will you? Twenty-seven fifty.”

Victor grimaced, squeezed my hand once, and then let go, returning his focus to his notes.

I retreated and found Kota standing nearby, waiting for me.

I smiled at him and clasped my hands behind my back, feeling out of place, yet strangely…happy, even with the big crowd of people rushing around. I didn’t understand my feelings at all.