Wreath (38 page)

W
reath walked to the edge of the woods, as far from her campsite as her weak legs would carry her, and threw up. With her ragged blanket around her shoulders, she stumbled back to the Tiger Van. She wasn’t sure how much school she’d missed and hoped she could make up the class work. She hoped things were good at the store. Her throat burned, her head ached, and even her skin hurt. She wondered if this was the way Frankie had felt right before she died.

Pulling herself up into the van, she barely managed to close the door and lie down on the hard floor, thankful for the carpet as she shivered. She heard the sound of a male voice calling her name from a long way off and thought she must be delirious. “Wreath! Where are you?”

Sitting up, the gold-and-black-striped carpet spun around her, and she put her palms on the van floor to steady herself.

“Answer me,” the voice called. “One way or the other, I’m going to find you.”

Wreath groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. He had no way of knowing where she was. Maybe he would go away. She drifted back off to sleep.

The sound of the van door roused her, and she propped herself on her elbows, blinking. The outside light hid her visitor’s face.

“Wreath! Are you okay?” Law crawled through the middle of the bucket seats and into the back where she was. “Can you hear me?”

“Of course I can hear you. Did you bring my assignments?”

The boy gave a hoarse laugh. “Do you know how worried we’ve been about you? I’ve got to get you to a doctor.”

“No doctors.” Wreath feebly pushed on his chest. “I’m not sick enough for a doctor. No money …” Her voice trailed off. She looked at him, the picture of health and vigor, squatting there, and felt the first dose of hope she’d had since he’d dropped her off Sunday evening.

“What time is it?” she asked, squinting at her watch. “What day is it, for that matter?”

“It’s Tuesday night, and you’ve got half the town in an uproar. Why didn’t you call one of us?”

“No phone,” she said. Short sentences seemed to be all her brain could form at the moment.

“When was the last time you had anything to eat?”

“No food.”

“You don’t have any food.” Law looked around. “You’ve been starving yourself.”

“No.” She doubted she sounded as indignant as she wanted to. “I have food but can’t eat.” She remembered the trips to the edge of the woods. “Ugh. No food.”

“You must be dehydrated,” he said. “Let me get you some water.”

Again he looked around, as though trying to figure out where her kitchen was in the darkness.

“There’s a jug on the front seat,” she said, suddenly realizing her tongue felt like it was covered with one of the fake fur coats in the boutique. “Please.”

Holding a cup to her lips, Law brushed her hair off her face, and Wreath tried to pull away. “I must look horrible,” she said.

“I can’t lie to you.” He tried for a smile, which came out lopsided. “You look rotten. How do you feel?”

“About like I look,” she said.

“Do you think it’s the flu? That’s going around at school.” He felt her forehead and then took her pulse, which raced with his presence. “You don’t seem to have fever.”

“I’m better today. For the first time since I saw you Sunday, I feel like I might actually live.”

“Did your cousin kick you out when you got sick?”

“My cousin? What?” Her head still felt fuzzy.

“Why are you sleeping in this van? I don’t understand. Why didn’t you come to us for help? We’re your friends. Mrs. Durham and Miss Watson are worried about you. Mr. J. D., too. They have the police looking for you.”

Immediately Wreath’s head cleared. “The police! They called the police because I have the flu?”

“They didn’t know what happened to you. You didn’t show up for school or work. A man came to the school looking for you.”

“Who?” she whispered, dismayed at how little energy she had.

“Some big guy who used to work at Durham’s. He went by there supposedly looking for a job. He emptied the cash drawer at the store and left.”

The flu paled at the reality of Law’s visit, and the information he piled on her. “He must be one of Frankie’s relatives or something. I’ve got to get out of here,” she said, half stumbling, half crawling to the front seat.

She pushed hard on the door and nearly tumbled out into the junkyard. But the campsite looked ordinary, no swarms of people, no strange man.

In recent days, spring had started to come, and the woods smelled fresh and welcoming. The air was cool, but it lacked the brittle feel of winter, and a clump of small flowers bloomed over near an old pickup.

Suddenly her legs felt rubbery again, and she sank down into her one chair. “I’m sorry I don’t have a place for you to sit,” she said to Law, who was looking around like he’d never seen a wrecked car before. She saw his eyes move from the clothesline to the ashes from her campfire to her bird feeder hanging in a nearby tree. He even looked at the pictures on the dash of the van, visible through the open door.

After what seemed like an hour of surveying the junkyard, he turned to Wreath, who had stretched her legs out and laid her head back on the chair, liking the feel of the fresh air on her face.

“No wonder we couldn’t find your house,” Law said. “Do you even have a cousin?”

“Maybe somewhere,” Wreath said.

“But they don’t live anywhere near Landry, do they?”

She thought for an instant about trying to keep the lie going but didn’t have the strength. She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t actually have any cousins.”

Law looked around again. “So you’ve been living here, in a junkyard, all this time?”

“ ‘Fraid so. How’d you find me?”

“You didn’t make it easy, that’s for sure. I retraced our steps, thought of every hint you’d ever dropped, and made one of your famous lists.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I spent two hours riding around with Miss Watson. We couldn’t find anyone on the road where you supposedly lived who even knew your name.”

Wreath groaned.

“Miss Watson’s boyfriend, that deputy guy, is looking for you, too, and Mrs. Durham and Mr. J. D. They left their stores the minute they figured out something was wrong and tackled some of the neighborhoods around school.”

“Oh no,” Wreath said, her head in her lap.

“When Miss Watson and I didn’t get anywhere, I got her to drop me off on that road.” He pointed toward the highway. “She’s gone to meet Shane to get more help.”

Law reached out and touched Wreath’s dirty hair. “You scared me so badly, Wreath. I kept playing our conversation Sunday night over and over in my head, and I finally gave up and prayed.”

“You prayed for me?”

“Yep,” he said. “I asked God to watch over you and to help me find you. Then it dawned on me that unless you had been vaporized, you had to be somewhere in the junkyard. It was the only place we hadn’t looked.”

He held up his arm, brandishing a long scratch. “I came through the woods. This place is huge.”

“Tell me about it.” She couldn’t keep from smiling.

He knelt on the ground in front of her chair and grabbed both of her hands. “You’re amazing, did you know that?”

She shook her head.

“Amazing and possibly a little crazy.”

“More than a little,” she said. “You should hear this place at night.”

“You’re the bravest girl I ever met, but why? Why, Wreath? Why not let someone help you?”

“I didn’t know who to trust, and I want to finish high school.” She started to cry softly. “I’ve got to get my work done, but I don’t feel so hot.”

She stumbled to her feet and walked around the van, out of sight, to throw up again.

Law rushed around the corner and wiped her face with the corner of his shirt. “Let me take you somewhere. To my grandparents’ house? Or to Mrs. Durham’s?”

Wreath sagged against him. “On one condition.”

“Name it,” he said.

“You can’t tell anyone where I live.”

“That’s impossible,” he said. “You can’t keep staying out here.”

“I’m staying here until I finish high school. If you can’t keep that secret, I’m not going with you. I’ll leave Landry.”

“I won’t do that, Wreath.” He looked around. “This is dangerous. It’s a miracle that no one has bothered you out here already. An absolute miracle.”

Wreath covered her face with her hands, speaking through her fingers. “I won’t go with you then,” she said. “This is my home. This is where I live.”

“You mean that, don’t you?”

She jerked her head in a nod.

Law took her fingers from her face. “Do you promise you’ll stay with someone until you’re well?”

“I promise.”

“Are you sure you won’t move into town? Maybe stay with someone till you graduate?”

She shook her head. “It’s the way you feel about staying with your mother, instead of taking the easier way with your grandparents. I can’t explain it, but I’ve got to do this on my own.”

“I don’t like it,” Law said. “Please let someone help you.”

Wreath’s voice quivered. “I only need three more months. Please, Law. I know you understand.”

He sighed. “I won’t tell people you live here, but I have two conditions of my own.”

“I’ve already given you my word, that I’d stay with Faye.”

“That’s not my condition,” he said. “You have to promise me that you’ll come to me if you’re ever in trouble again.” Wreath looked at him. “I promise.”

Law looked into her eyes, as though trying to see if she was lying, and she squirmed and spoke.

“You’ll be the first person I come to if I have a problem.” She did not take her gaze from his. “What’s your second condition?”

“Agree to go to senior prom,” he said with a tiny smile.

She put the back of her hand on her forehead. “I think I’m feverish again.”

“Is that a yes?”

“A most definite yes,” she said.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said, picking up her pack. “We’ve got to put Mrs. Durham out of her misery. She’s more shaken up than she was when her husband died.”

Chapter 36

F
or the first time in her life, Wreath was waited on hand and foot.

When Wreath and Law emerged from the woods, Mitch’s car waited near the school bus stop. He was walking back from investigating another trail and came out of the woods as they did. He galloped back to his vehicle with a loud whoop and a big, questioning smile as he saw them.

Wreath saw Law give Mitch a small shake of the head, and Mitch didn’t ask anything. He just gave Wreath a tight hug and tucked her into the front seat and told her about ten times how glad he was that she’d been found.

“You don’t look so hot,” he said with a smile.

“That’s the same thing you said the last time you saw me,” she said.

“We need to get you some help,” Mitch said, a surprisingly tender note in his voice. Wreath couldn’t believe she used to think he was a snotty rich kid. He and Law stood just out of earshot and whispered for a few moments, and Wreath wondered if her secret would come out, no matter what promises had been made.

Mitch used his cell phone to let the others know Wreath was safe, but other than that the three had little conversation during the drive to Faye’s, with the boys looking at Wreath and asking her repeatedly if she was sure she was all right.