Dancing With the Doc
Jennifer Youngblood
Craig Depew, MD
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
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Books by Jennifer Youngblood
About the Authors
Prologue
Carmelita skipped joyfully down the sidewalk, her new blue gingham dress swishing in the breeze as she sang on the way to the bus stop. She kicked the leaves that had fallen overnight from the white oak trees between the street and the sidewalk. With an exaggerated wave of her hand above her head, she spun in circles, the skirt of her dress spreading out in a blur around her. Her pigtails swung back and forth, slapping her shoulders. Carmelita loved to dance. If she could forget about school and all the stupid homework and just spend the rest of her life dancing, she’d be happy.
“Hi, Cat,” someone called out. She turned and saw her best friend running down the front steps of her house, carrying a notebook and pink Barbie lunch box.
“Miss Miriam, I presume,” Carmelita said with a mock curtsy. “Carmelita Andrea Anastasia Hernandez de Silva at your service.”
“I prefer Cat,” Miriam replied, breathless from running down her front walk. She looked Carmelita up and down. “Nice dress.”
“Thank you,” she responded with a burst of pride. “My mami got paid yesterday. We bought it last night. Like it, huh?”
“Yup. You look great.”
Carmelita turned up her chin and walked regally ahead of Miriam. “I know,” she crooned. “You may now proceed to admire me.”
Miriam giggled. Half a block ahead, a commotion was erupting at the bus stop. Two boys were holding another, his arms pinned behind his back. Their prisoner was yelling at the top of his lungs. “Stop it! Let go of me! That’s not your pack. Give it back!”
A third bully, even larger than the other two, zipped open the trapped boy’s backpack. He reached in and pulled out a fist full of papers, which he threw backwards over his head into the street. A car drove by, scattering them. He reached in again and pulled out an envelope.
The girls had gotten close enough to hear the bully’s taunts. Carmelita recognized the bully—Drew O’Hannon. Two grades ahead of Carmelita, Drew was as mean as he was tough. “Aww, wookie. Mommy puts your wunch money in a wittle envelope so it won’t get lost. How sweet.” He chortled out a heartless laugh. One of his henchmen let go of the victim with his left hand and gave Drew a high five. Drew tore open the envelope and poured the coins into his hand.
“Nice, Chase. Thanks.” He slid the lunch money into his right front pocket. Then, he yanked Chase’s arm back, and swung a fist into Chase’s stomach. “But it’s not enough. Tomorrow bring more. My boys here will have to go hungry today, but I know that tomorrow you’ll have something for them too, won’t you?”
Rage filled Cat. Not only was Chase her friend, but she’d secretly had a crush on him since the start of the school year. “Let him go,” she demanded.
The chumps holding Chase’s arms let go. Chase fell to the ground, clutching his stomach. He looked up at the bully, eyes blazing. “You’re a scab, O’Hannon!”
“What did you say?” Drew kicked Chase’s side before rolling him over on his back. In a flash, he jumped onto Chase’s chest. His arm went back to deliver a blow to the face, but the fist never connected. A blue blur streaked across the space as Carmelita leapt on Drew, knocking him off Chase.
Carmelita scratched and clawed for all she was worth, but she was no match for the much larger sixth grader. In a flash, Carmelita was on her back, Drew on top, pressing her arms against the ground. “If you wasn’t a girl, I’d …” He paused as if unsure how to finish.
Cat struggled but couldn’t get free. She glared up. “Let me go, Drew O’Hannon. I’ll poke your eyes out.”
Drew laughed. “You stupid little PR. You can’t do anything to me.”
“I’m not Puerto Rican. And you’re gravely mistaken if you think I won’t do anything to you.”
There was a squeal of brakes, signaling that the bus had arrived. The doors hissed open as the driver observed the scene. Immediately, he picked up a radio microphone. “Police dispatch, we have a youth situation at the bus stop, one-oh-nine-one-two south Devonshire. Need a couple of units here immediately.” He hung the mike in its cradle and remained in his seat, not willing to leave the bus to help.
Drew placed a big paw over Cat’s face. He ground the back of her head into the grass and laughed some more. She squirmed to get away but stopped when she felt the cloth of her new dress ripping underneath her.
Through a gap between Drew’s meaty fingers Cat could see curious students watching out of the bus windows, but no one got off to help. Drew leaned up on his toes so he could put more weight on her face.
Cat knew where to kick a boy to get his attention. She had her pointy-toed black church shoes on with her dress, and when the police arrived a few seconds later Drew was rolling on the ground, holding his crotch. His lackeys might have released Chase and grabbed Cat had the authorities not arrived when they did.
“You guys got here fast,” the bus driver commented.
“We were just up the street on our break. These kids are making us miss breakfast,” an officer with stripes on his sleeve complained. “Okay, what happened?” Three other officers moved into position, surrounding the kids.
The bus driver spoke. “Those two grabbed that one. The big one stole the kid’s lunch money and started beating him up. Then the little girl attacked the ring leader. You shoulda seen it.”
A female officer look admiringly at Cat. “You did that?”
Cat just nodded.
An officer stepped up to Drew and held out his hand. “Fork it over.” Drew dug into his pocket and pulled out the contents. “I’ll take that,” the officer said as he scooped the pocket knife out of Drew’s hand. He pointed to Chase. “Give him back the money.” Drew said nothing. He just passed the lunch money to Chase.
The officer turned back to the driver. “You say these two are okay?” he asked, looking at Cat and Chase
The bus driver’s eyes widened. “They’re more than okay. If I was getting mugged, I’d want her on my side.”
The officer jerked his thumb toward the bus. “Okay, you guys get on the bus and get out of here. Don’t be late for school.” He grabbed Drew by the back of his collar and glared at the others. “You three, into my car, now. We’re going to go find your mothers.”
Cat smiled when she saw one of Drew’s lackeys go instantly pale. It was obvious that he was far more scared of his mama than the police. Once she and Chase were on the bus, the doors hissed closed and the driver pulled onto the road. Chase caught her eye. His expression of gratitude almost made getting her dress ripped worth it.
A few weeks later, on a fairly nondescript Tuesday, Cat had just left her house to go to the bus stop. She was on the edge of her yard when a scrap of white paper caught her eye. It was wedged into the knothole of a tree. Curiously, she went over and pulled it out. The paper was folded into a neat square.
She glanced around. There was no one else in sight. She opened it, her breath catching when she read the first words.
Dear Cat,
What? It was a letter to her? She read it again.
Dear Cat,
I love the way you dance. You’re so fun to watch. I could never have moves like that. You should go pro someday. Hero.
That was all it said. She looked around again. As far as she could tell, no one was watching from the houses. Standing on her tiptoes, she peered into the knothole, surprised that there were more scraps of paper. She pulled out the next one. It was hard and slightly yellowed.
Dear Cat,
I’m sorry you were sick with the flu. I hope you feel better. Hero.
She frowned. It had been almost three weeks since she’d had the flu. The note had been through several days of rain and wind during that time.
She reached into the hole again and grabbed a handful of notes. One looked really old.
Dear Cat,
I think you’re cool. Hero.
She crinkled her nose. She didn’t know anyone named Hero. Was he referring to himself as some kind of superhero? She flipped through the notes, some more faded with age than others.
Dear Cat,
My mom made me eat beets last night. They were gross.
Okay. No real information in that one.
There were eighteen in all. One was a faded Valentine card.
Dear Cat,
I sent Valentines to my whole class but the person I really wanted to send one to is you. Hero.
How sweet. Someone had a crush on her but was too shy to say anything in person. She had to know who it was. How could she find out? Stuffing the notes into her pocket, she hurried to the stop to catch the bus. She got there before the last kids climbed on. Cat went down the aisle to sit next to Miriam. “Look what I found,” Cat said in a low tone as she pulled the notes from her pocket.
“Where did you find them?”
“They were wedged into the hole in the tree in front of my house.”
Miriam’s eyes sparkled with adventure as she took the paper on top of the stack and began reading, “‘Dear Cat,’ Nice opening,” she said with a giggle. “‘I like your new hair style.’” Miriam made a face. “When did you get a new hair style?”
Cat tried to think. “Last time I got a haircut was in the summer, more than three months ago. That’s the thing. These notes look like they’ve been coming for a really long time … like years.”
“Who’s Hero?”
She shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Cat’s got a boyfriend! Cat’s got a boyfriend,” Miriam sang out.
“Shh! I don’t have a boyfriend,” she hissed. “Besides, he can’t be my boyfriend if I don’t even know who he is.”
“Let me see another one.” Miriam snatched the next note from Cat’s hand and started reading. “‘Dear Cat, How’s it going? Hero.’ Look at the nice heart he drew. How romantic.” Her voice had a teasing tone.
Cat turned the pile over and picked up what had to be the oldest note from the bottom of the stack. The paper was so brittle and weathered that a corner broke off when she unfolded it. “Wow. Red crayon. How old is this?” The handwriting looked like it belonged to a kindergartener. “‘Dear Carmalitta.’” She sighed. “How come nobody around here knows how to spell my name?” Now, most people knew her as Cat, but when she was younger everyone called her Carmelita. She continued reading. “‘You’re nice and priddy. Can we be frinds?’” There were two boxes … a yes and no. It was signed Hero. She pursed her lips. “Even back then he was calling himself Hero.”
“I guess Superman was already taken,” Miriam teased.
The bus slowed down and pulled to the side of the street in front of the school. Cat got off the bus, still pondering over the notes. Who was Hero? She looked at the masses of students congregating beneath the breezeway, waiting for school to begin. Was Hero here?
Cat went to place the notes back into her pocket, but the wind caught one and sent it sailing across the yard in front of the school.
“Oh no,” Miriam moaned. “We’ll never catch it.”
The note skimmed the ground to the far side of the schoolyard and would have escaped through the fence had a boy not stomped his boot down, trapping it. They watched as he bent over and picked it up. When they could see his face, they gasped. It was Drew. He was the last person they wanted in on their secret.
“We’ll never get it back from him,” Miriam groaned.
Despair sank over Cat. Which one of the notes did Drew have? One with her name on it? How many Cats were there in the school? She had no idea. Not wanting Drew to see her nearby and connect the note to her, she grasped Miriam’s arm. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go inside.”
The notes kept coming all that school year and into the next. Sometimes they were flirty, sometimes sad, always anonymous. Cat was dying to know who Hero was, but it seemed that the person was being very careful to never give any clues about his identity. They didn’t come every day, but at least a handful each month, and often, a few times a week there was a surprise waiting for her in the tree.
Winter came and went. Spring arrived in an explosion of color. Chicago’s famous winds ripped blossoms from the trees and sent them cascading in waves down the street. They gave Cat all the more reason to dance as she leapt over and through the tumbling masses of petals rolling in the wind.
As Cat left for school, she stopped by the tree. There hadn’t been anything there for over a week. When she spotted the slip of paper, a smile curved her lips as she hungrily read it.
Dear Cat,
Sorry about all the notes. I promise I’m not a stalker. I just like having someone to talk to. If you hate the notes and want me to stop, just put a rock in the knothole, and I won’t send any more. But I hope you don’t. Hero.
Stop? Why would she want him to stop? The notes were great. They made her feel special. She’d been checking the tree every morning hoping for more. She wouldn’t have minded if Hero sent one every day. This past week, she’d begun to fear that Hero had lost interest in her. Tucking the note in her pocket, Cat went to the bus stop. When she returned home that afternoon, she got out a piece of paper and pen and started writing.
Dear Hero. Who are you? I have to know. I’m in Mrs. Nelson’s class. Are you in her class too? I love your notes.
Wait! She’d used the word love. That wouldn’t do. She crumpled up the paper and got another one.
Dear Hero. Thanks for the notes you’ve sent me. They mean a lot. It’s been really hard for Mami and me without Dad here. Do you have two parents? I mean, do both of them live with you? I hope your life is happy, and I want to meet you. From Cat.
She folded the paper in half, and folded that in half again. With a nimble step, she hurried out to the tree to place it in the knothole. She smiled thinking of Hero’s reaction when he realized that she’d written back. On more than one occasion, she’d looked out the window at the tree, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hero, but he was too stealthy.
She hardly slept a wink that night, wondering how Hero would answer. To her disappointment, there was no note. When Cat and Miriam got off the bus at school, the breezeway was empty because it was raining. They ran to the school entrance with all the rest of the kids while teachers clutching umbrellas urged them inside. Cat went to her locker to retrieve her books. As she closed the door, she was surprised to see Drew O’Hannon there.
“Hi, Cat.”
It was hard to tell if he was sneering or smiling. She shrank back.
“I see you found my notes.”
Her mouth went dry. Somehow, she managed to find her voice. “What notes?”
“The ones in the tree,” he said smugly.
Her heart began to pound. No, this couldn’t be happening! Hero couldn’t be Drew O’Hannon. Drew was a blockheaded bully. He couldn’t possibly be so sensitive and insightful. Had he been toying with her the entire time, or was Drew diffe
rent inside than his outer shell?
He leaned closer. “Do you like them?”
Confusion swirled in Cat’s head.
“It was kind of you to write back.” Drew held up a sheet of paper—her note that she’d placed in the knothole this morning.
Her heart clutched as she tried to reconcile Hero with Drew O’Hannon. It was impossible. Her mind simply couldn’t do it.
She clutched her book to her chest. “I—I’ve got to get to class.”
“Be sure and drop me a note anytime,” Drew said glibly with a wink. “You know our secret spot.”
A wave of nausea rolled over Cat as she turned and hurried away, eager to put as much space between her and Drew O’Hannon as possible. There was no way she would ever leave a note for Drew O’Hannon. Her heart cracked.
Hero was dead.
1
Cat paced back and forth across the kitchen floor. “Are you sure you heard correctly?” She stopped and looked at the silver-haired woman sitting at the table, watching her with sympathetic eyes.
Romina nodded, a solemn expression on her lined face. “Juanita Garza saw Drew at the diner with another woman.” She motioned with her hands. “The woman had big blonde hair and a tight red dress that left little to the imagination.” Her face colored as she shook her head slowly back and forth. “I knew that Drew O’Hannon was trouble. You should’ve never gotten involved with him. If your mother saw you now, she’d roll over in her grave.” She made a cross over her chest.
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