On the Loose (A Katie Parker Production)

by Jenny B. Jones

  James chokes on his green tea. “What is that?”

  Maxine does a wobbly pirouette. “Mrs. Hall and I are having a little dispute over my costume choice as the fairy godmother. This is my latest creation.” She picks up a corner of her skirt. “I think it says sophistication and worldliness.”

  James scratches his stubbly cheek. “That’s not what it’s saying to me.”

  “Mom, you better change if Sam’s going to eat with us tonight.”

  “Yes, Maxine, time to get out of your play clothes.” James shoots a wink my way.

  An hour later, we all sit down to the table for dinner. Or as James whispered, “The meal that will precede a few bowls of cereal.”

  “Katie, are you excited about your week of mission work?” Sam passes the salad.

  “Yeah, sure.” I guess. I don’t know. It’s my first churchie event, so I’m kind of nervous. I still don’t even know where all the books of the Bible are yet. What if somebody we’re helping says, “Quick! Find Leviticus!”

  “I think you’ll have a great time.” Millie smiles and hands me the organic carrot and bean medley. Again. “It’s perfect, really.” She turns her attention toward Sam, and I brush my veggies into my napkin. “They sleep in tents on the church campus. They’ll do reconstruction and cleaning in the community during the day. Then at night it’s a church service for those in the shelters and the kids get to cook for them.”

  “Marvelous opportunity. I’m so pleased you’re going. So pleased.” Maxine spears a bite of pizza with her fork and sniffs it.

  “No more slumber parties in my room when I’m not there, Maxine. Last time you did that I found three pair of knee highs, one orthopedic shoe, and a Depends in my room.”

  Maxine clutches Sam’s hand. “None of those things belonged to me.”

  Millie inspects my plate. “Katie, you’re not eating much. Too excited about Monday?”

  “Uh-huh.” Yes, that’s it. Because normally when I’m handed a plate of organic vegetarian goo, I just can’t stop eating.

  “Well, I have a surprise.” Millie rises from her chair. “Guess what we’re having for dessert?”

  “Tofu cupcakes?” Maxine bites her lip. “Soy soufflé? Green bean smoothies?”

  Millie frowns at her mother and disappears into the kitchen. “Your favorite!” She comes back out carrying a loaded tray. “Homemade chocolate brownie sundae. Just like at that restaurant you love.”

  Millie scoops some ice cream over my still warm brownie and drizzles hot fudge sauce over the top. “Here you go, sweetie.”

  The doorbell rings.

  Who would interrupt this sacred moment, this reunion of girl and oozing, melting sugar-filled chocolate?

  “I’ll get it.” Maxine bounds up from her chair.

  I swallow my bite. “The back of your skirt is tucked in your hose.”

  Without missing a step, she yanks it out. “Thought it felt a little breezy.”

  James leans towards Sam. “You marry her, and that can be yours every day of your life.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I could perform the ceremony right now.”

  “James—” Millie scolds.

  “Could have her packed up in two minutes.”

  “Look who I found.” Maxine enters the dining room with her arm around Charlie Benson. “He looks familiar.” She claps his chin in her hand and pulls his face close. “Where do I know you?”

  “Church?” Charlie searches the room for help.

  “Nope. Where else?”

  “Last fall you came to visit at my grandmother’s house.”

  Maxine scratches her head. “Not ringing any bells.”

  “You sent Katie up in a tree to spy on Sam and she fell into my grandma’s pool.”

  “Well! Nice of you to come by. Wish you could stay. Tell everyone good-bye.” She claps him on the back and turns him toward the door.

  “Wait.” Charlie digs in his heels. “I have something special for Katie.”

  “She’s not that type of girl. Shoo!” She gives him a big push.

  “Mother! My goodness, let the poor boy come in and sit down.” Millie pulls out an empty chair. “Join us, Charlie. We were just having dessert. Have you eaten dinner yet?”

  Behind Millie, I nod my head in frantic jerks.

  “Um . . . yes, ma’am.” He eyes the pizza blob with curiosity.

  “Well, then you just sit down and have some dessert. James, get this boy a spoon.” Millie dishes out more brownie sundae for Charlie. I don’t know that I feel close enough to him to share my going-away super-special dessert.

  “What do you have there?” James inspects the bundle in Charlie’s arms.

  “It’s my video camera.” Charlie’s metallic gray eyes stare into mine. “Mrs. Hall let me back into the school about thirty minutes ago. He digs into his bag and pulls out his James Bond device. “It’s got some pretty interesting footage.”

  James pushes out of his chair. “Bring your bowls and follow me.”

  We crowd into the den. I chew on a fingernail as Charlie plugs the thing into James’s laptop.

  Millie pulls me into her side. “Even if we don’t get it this time, you know we will clear your name soon.”

  I wrap my arm around her and breathe in her comforting Millie scent. She smells like . . . a mom.

  “I watched part of it already. Check this out. The counter says it’s eleven forty-five, right before lunch.” Charlie pushes a button and a blurry image of the locker room pops on the screen. Charlie begins to narrate. “Right here.” He points to the lower corner of the screen. “You can see the shape of someone standing in front of your locker. She’s pulling something out of her pocket.”

  Maxine springs from her chair. “Let’s go get her!”

  Everyone ignores her as Charlie continues. “Now she’s opening the lock.”

  “It’s my combination. That’s what she has on the piece of paper.”

  James nods. “She had to have gotten it from her mother or from watching you get into your locker. The problem though is you can’t even see her face. We have to prove beyond a doubt it’s her.”

  “Her mom keeps a record of our combos somewhere in her office. But if that’s Angel, how is she getting the stuff out in the first place? She’s never out of my sight in PE, and yet that’s when things are being taken.”

  Charlie shushes me. “Right here. It’s a little hard to make out, but she puts something in your locker and covers it up. She shuts the door and . . . there. Right there!” He taps on the glass. “Did you see that?”

  I shake my head. “Rewind it.”

  “I’m gonna slow it down. Watch for it.” The images reverse and then begin again.

  A hand spins the dial on my locker and the intruder slowly turns around—her face turned to the camera.

  “It’s her!” I jump up and down. “It’s Angel! It’s Angel!” I grab Charlie and hug the breath out of him. “You did it.” I step away and clear my throat. “Thank you.”

  “Yes, thank you, Charlie.” James claps him on the back. “This is priceless.”

  “Glad to help.” Charlie blushes, making his cute dimple stand out. “I’ll leave the camera with you.” He unhooks it from the TV and hands it to James.

  “Let’s call the fuzz. I know a few guys who work for the FBI.”

  Millie rolls her eyes. “Mom, that won’t be necessary. But we will take care of this.”

  “I guess it will have to wait until we come back from spring break. There’s nothing we can do now.” I have to sit on this for a whole week.

  “Oh, my dear.” James’s mouth turns up in a sly grin. “You don’t know the lengths to which a determined parent will go.” One brow lifts over his glasses. “I believe your principal is due for a home visit from the pastor of In Between Community Church.”

  We watch the video three more times, and my stress lightens on every viewing. Free at last. Thank God for technology, I’m free at last.

  After his second helping of
my dessert (I actually offered him the next round), I walk Charlie to his car.

  “Thank you, Charlie. You didn’t have to do that for me, but I’m glad you did.”

  He shrugs and opens his door. “Like I said, that’s what friends do.”

  “I’m glad you did.” Why is this awkward? Boy just saved my behind, and I can’t even put two sentences together.

  “I’m glad you decided to go to the campout.” His eyes meet mine and we just watch one another for a brief moment. “Well, I gotta go.” Charlie shakes his head and climbs into his car.

  “Yeah, see you on Monday morning.” I wiggle my fingers in a small wave. “Thanks again.”

  His eyes never leaving mine, he waves back, and shuts his door. I stand in the driveway and watch his car rumble out of sight.

  Okay, God. I look skyward to the canopy of stars hanging overhead. Thanks.

  I push open the front door. “Can you even believe that? I can’t wait until—”

  Four pair of eyes stare back at me, wide and unblinking. Millie steps forward, her fake smile wobbling.

  “What’s wrong?” Ice blasts through my veins. “What?”

  “Katie.” James stands next to his wife and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Iola Smartly just called.”

  No, no, no! I am not going back. They can’t make me. I will throw myself in front of a moving bus of sumo wrestlers before I go back to Sunny Haven. “She can’t come and get me. Millie’s gonna be fine. You said you were gonna be fine.”

  “It’s not about Millie.” James squeezes my shoulder. “It’s your mom, Katie.”

  My mouth opens but nothing comes out.

  “She’s been released.”

  Chapter 33

  Dear Mrs. Smartly,

  What do you mean my mother’s case got overturned? She got caught selling drugs. What part of the evidence was tampered with? I was there, am I not evidence? Who did this? I want names.

  It’s not that I don’t want my mom out of prison. I do. But now is not a good time. Millie needs me. I have to stay here in In Between—at least for a little while longer.

  James said you mentioned you and mom might come to my play. It’s just a minor part. No big deal. Nothing worth driving six hours for. Well, actually, I am pretty fabulous in it. Minus my glue-on nose. But I’m sure I can send you two a DVD of the performance. I’ve heard the camera adds ten pounds, but I’m willing to risk that to save you some wear and tear on your old Sunny Haven minivan.

  I better go. I have thirty more minutes until I leave for church camp, and I still have to eat breakfast. Yes, that’s right I said church camp. Me and the churchies. Doing church things. For five whole days. And yes, I wrote my name in my underwear. I will go to any lengths to protect my Victoria Secret undies. I’m sure you understand.

  Or maybe not.

  Much love,

  Katie

  I fold the letter and stick it in a pink polka-dotted envelope.

  I cannot believe my mom is out of prison. My head pounds from my lack of sleep. Questions and thoughts did battle in my head all night, and this morning I woke up certain of nothing. Except that I needed some Tylenol. If Millie hasn’t thrown it out.

  Mrs. Smartly told the Scotts Mom was released last week. Why hasn’t she called me? Maybe she’s forgotten she had a daughter. That’s nothing new. She can’t take me away from the Scotts yet, can she? Shouldn’t I get a say in it if she tries?

  And then when I’m not raging with anger and fear, I’m swimming in guilt. This is my mom. I should want to go home. I should be happy she’s out and free. I should be thrilled at the idea of returning to life with her. But I know our trailer is gone. My cat—gone. And it’s not like I had been in my old school long enough to make many friends. The old me—is there anything left of her?

  And I can’t figure out if that’s good. Or bad.

  Knock. Knock.

  Millie pokes her head in the door. “Katie, are you up?”

  At six o’clock in the morning only Millie Scott would be in full makeup.

  “I’m up.” I lick the envelope and scribble Mrs. Smartly’s address.

  “Time for breakfast.” She glides across the room, her steps muffled by the white shag rug. James follows in behind her and sits down on my bed.

  Millie drapes her arms around my shoulders. “It’s gonna be okay. You’ll see.”

  I blink back tears. “We’re talking about my life. Nothing’s ever okay.”

  Her soft laugh tickles my ear, and she kisses my cheek. “Don’t worry about anything until we get more details, all right?”

  James swabs his glasses with his polo shirt. “You just go to camp and have a good time.”

  I turn in my desk chair and grab onto my foster mom. “I don’t want to go.”

  “Oh, honey, it’s just until Friday night. And we’re only five minutes away. You know we’re gonna call you every night.”

  “Nooo.” My voice breaks. “I don’t want to live with my mom.”

  “Oh.” Millie pulls away and smiles down at me. “We’re not at that point yet, all right? You’re not going anywhere right now.” She brushes away my tears with her thumb. “Except for camp. And you don’t want to be late. Lots of people in In Between depending on you.”

  Me and all my misery join the Scotts and Maxine downstairs at the breakfast nook table.

  Millie slides something out of a skillet and onto my plate. “Scrambled tofu.”

  I sniff. “Thanks.” I’d even eat this to be able to stay. I push my plate aside. Just not today.

  A lumpy mixture falls out of the pitcher as Millie pours her concoction into my glass. I raise my brows in question.

  “Guava juice.” She pats me on the head.

  Oh, to be like normal kids and drink Sunny Delight for breakfast. And have a mom who hasn’t done time.

  Maxine, her head cocked, blows on her coffee and stares at her plate.

  “I’ll pray for us.” James eases into the chair on my left. “Dear Heavenly Father, Lord, we praise you for this day. Thank you for Katie, and for her willing heart to serve her community and spend time with the church youth. We pray you would keep her safe. Lord, we ask you would speak to her this week. Give her guidance as well as assurance. Let her see you this week and see where you need her to be. Give her comfort, for we know all things work to your glory. We trust her to you, God, and pray you’d bless her. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  My head lifts, but my heart still sags.

  Maxine gets up and shuffles into the kitchen, sticking her head in a cabinet.

  “Mom, if you’re looking for your secret stash of Fruit Loops, I tossed them yesterday.”

  I can see Maxine’s eye twitch from across the room. I laugh despite the fact that my world is spinning out of control and about to implode.

  Later I hug Maxine good-bye in the driveway and crawl into the Scott’s backseat. Anxiety pounds on my head as we drive to the church. The car lurches to a stop at the youth building entrance, and we bail out.

  “Well, here we are.” Let the party begin. Whee. “Millie, if you guys need me just—”

  “We won’t.” Millie puts her hand on my cheek. “We’ll give you all the details of the week when you get back Friday night. I promise.” She holds onto me for a few seconds before I’m released, only to be picked off the ground and squeezed by James.

  “I’m putting two Pop-Tarts and a can of diet soda in your pocket right now,” he whispers.

  I’ve never had a dad. Until now, never knew I wanted one. But as we share a grin, and I pat down my lumpy coat pockets, I know I’ve been missing out all this time. This guy braved Millie’s wrath to bring me processed foods and an acidic, artificially sweetened, chemically-loaded beverage. I couldn’t ask for more.

  James unloads my suitcase and sleeping bag from the car, and we walk into the youth building.

  “Hey, Katie! Glad you’re here.” Pastor Mike’s wife Laura checks my name off her clipboard. “It wouldn’t be the sam
e without you.”

  With a final good-bye to James and Millie, I watch them walk away, the door shutting behind them. Don’t run after them and make a total fool of yourself. Eat your Pop-Tart and think happy thoughts.

  “All right, guys. Just put your stuff against the wall. We’re gonna head out into town and get started.” Pastor Mike checks his watch. “We’ll come back here at noon for lunch and pitch our tents. Then go back out and work for a few hours, start the shower rotation while we prepare dinner, feed some folks, and have our evening service. Any questions?”

  Silent, sleepy stares are his only response.

  “So today we’re working on a house that was badly damaged. Some guys from the church repaired the roof and hung new sheetrock last week. And today we’re cleaning and painting.” He waves us onward. “Load up on the bus.”

  I sit next to Frances, who’s sipping on a mocha despite the jostling ride.

  “Did you have a good weekend?” She asks, strategically slurping between bumps in the road.

  “Good doesn’t quite describe it.”

  The brakes screech in protest as we jerk to a stop on Marshall, one of the hardest hit streets in town.

  We file out, and Pastor Mike leads us to the yard of a small, yellow home.

  “Half of you will come with me and work here, at Mr. and Mrs. Dobbs’s house. The rest of you will need to follow my wife to that home.” He points across the street. “And she’ll put you to work.”

  Too tired to take the ten extra steps across the road, I stick with Pastor Mike’s group. Frances joins me as we walk into the house.

  “Welcome!” A small, stooped African-American woman greets us at the door. She shakes every hand that passes by her. I hold her gnarled hand in mine and feel her fragile bones. “I’m Sarah, and this is my husband, Elmer.” She gestures to a man sitting in a sheet-covered chair, breathing into an oxygen mask. “I’ll be popping in and out to help, but Elmer’s going to visit the neighbors, aren’t you dear?”

  Elmer, a man probably in his early eighties, nods his bald head and smiles. “Praise the Lord.” He continues nodding. “I sure do praise the Lord for you.”