“She doesn’t have the background—”
“Do you mean our little group of friends, like Kaye and Sharon? I didn’t even know Leefe knew Sharon until tonight. They were friends.”
Jesse came off the desk in a hurry. “I believe they knew each other, but I don’t believe they were friends. Sharon wouldn’t have wiped her feet on Leefe Ellis.” She scowled at Clary. “The best she’ll ever do is the day care or work with the homeless.”
“That’s mean, and what’s wrong with that? Robin worked in a bank. She left without saying good-bye, took my heart and Hannah.” Clary’s blood pounded through her body.
“Yeah, well…” Jesse put her hand on the doorknob. “If Leefe and Sharon were friends, why won’t she tell me why Sharon left? Talk to Linda, the woman who owns The Docks. Ask her about Leefe.” And she was out the door.
Clary pushed out a breath. God almighty. She’d never heard that kind of arrogance from Jesse. Sweat trickled down her back as she walked out of the building to her car. Her hands shook so hard she couldn’t get the key into the ignition until she’d tried several times. Leefe held Devi in the backseat.
“Jesse tore out of here like she was on a call,” Leefe said. “Was it bad?”
Clary looked at her in the rearview mirror. “I hardly recognize her. I want you to know that I said you and Sharon had been friends.”
Leefe met Clary’s gaze in the mirror “I know what Jesse says. I’ve heard it all, firsthand.” Her mouth twisted. “I know who I am, and that’s what counts. I’ll show you how to get to Devi’s. I called Albie and told her we’d be there soon.”
*
Clary took a left down the alley behind the old theater, a place from her childhood. It had the best popcorn in town but had been closed for years. The alley was pitch-black except for her car’s headlights, and there might have been people shifting away, or were they just shadows? Still shaken over the argument, Clary felt as if she was seeing things.
“Do you have a flashlight?” Leefe’s voice broke the silence.
Clary let her car idle and went through her glove box, finding a heavy duty flashlight. She took the smaller one for herself.
“There.” Leefe got out of the backseat with the flashlight. “Come with us, Clary. I don’t want you out here alone. Lock the car.”
The three of them stepped inside an open door, and Clary realized it was a storage room. There were towels, or some sort of rags, covering the floor. She shone her light upward. The entire room was cement bricks. Storage boxes were stacked neatly against the walls, and Clary thought they might be films, and then saw the boxes were stenciled “Tickets.” Fat, half-burned candles lined the floor in front of the boxes. Leefe had her flashlight trained on the corner where Devi was throwing shoeboxes around. Clary turned, and her heart leapt into her throat. A man stood in the doorway.
“Mr. Johnson,” Devi yelled and ran toward them, holding a small wooden box.
“Hello, Devi,” he said. “Ms. Ellis.”
“Hi, Jim.” Leefe smiled at him.
“I wondered whose new car was outside,” he said. “I heard about the trouble with Devi’s folks today.”
“I’m taking her to the day care until we can get this sorted out,” Leefe said. “How’s things here? Everyone down for the night?”
While they spoke, Clary shone her light on another wall. There were three metal buckets in the corner. The odor told her that this was Devi’s “bathroom” and the buckets hadn’t been emptied. She backed away in a hurry, bumping into an industrial single sink, and flashed the light inside. Everything was moving. There were cockroaches everywhere. Her skin crawled when she saw maggots, and she pushed back a gag.
“Can new people move inside?” Jim was saying, and Clary heard respect in his voice. Maybe this was a part of what Leefe did for the police in South Port?
“No, not tonight, but if you don’t see anyone here by tomorrow afternoon, I think you’d be okay.” Leefe swept the light around the room. “Would you do me a favor? Just stack their things over there, on top of the ticket boxes. I’m not sure of anything about this family yet.”
They moved outside and Clary caught a light odor of pot in the warm air, mixed with the sharp smell of beer. A hand brushed her shoulder. She jumped and swept the flashlight around her.
“Move, bitch,” a male voice growled, and she was surrounded by older kids. Heart racing, she froze.
“Gerald.” Leefe’s voice was sharp.
“Ms. Ellis…didn’t see you.” The teenager turned back to Clary. “It’s dark. Sorry.”
The light from her flashlight also showed younger children that looked like the group she’d seen at Mojo’s, dirty and thin. The group edged past, down the dark alley toward the street, and she stepped back with her hand on her chest to slow her heart.
They rode back to the day care without a word, her stomach churning.
*
At the day care, Devi took her medicine, and Leefe made her a peanut butter sandwich with a glass of milk while Albie and Clary got her clothes into the washing machine. When Leefe took Devi upstairs, they looked through the closet for clean clothing. The jeans would make it, but the new T-shirt was probably beyond saving.
Albie held up Devi’s shirt. “God,” she murmured.
“Jesse said the father almost beat the mother to death,” Clary said.
Leefe came downstairs and checked the clock on the wall. “Albie, I know your guy’s in town. It’s not that late so go find him and relax tonight. I’ll stay with the kids, meet with nurses in the morning, and you can come in late tomorrow. When you get here, I’ll go home for clean clothes and a shower.”
“Works for me,” Albie said, gathering her things. “Jacob’s had aspirin so he should be good for the night. I charted his temperature. Give that to the nurses.” Albie gathered her things, gave Leefe a quick hug, and left.
“She could use some downtime,” Leefe said absently when Albie had gone. “What a day.”
“What’s going to happen to Devi?”
“I don’t know. Lawyers, social services, and police handle things like this. God only knows what those kids saw today, and Beverly will get them some help. If what Jesse said is true, the father’s going to jail, and they’ll never leave the children with their mother if she lives. Damn, I hate this.This can happen in a moment.” Leefe sighed tiredly and stepped back.
“It happens in families that aren’t homeless too. Look at Sharon. How could you have been better parents than Maureen and Joe?”
Leefe gave Clary a thoughtful look at that. “Thanks for everything you did, the breakfast, dinner, Devi’s clothes, and…” Leefe pulled in a shaky breath. “And you.” She laid a finger on Clary’s lips. “You taste really good.”
“So do you. Get some rest and see you tomorrow,” Clary whispered with a smile, kissed her lightly, and left.
Clary drove toward Aunt Maureen’s, trying to slow her mind down, and calm her shaking hands. She practically had whiplash from all the emotions she’d waded through today. She’d been truly frightened tonight. It wasn’t the first time she’d been afraid, but it was the first time in South Port.
She pulled into the garage, turned off the motor, but didn’t move. The town had changed, but what hadn’t, and who was Linda at The Docks that Jesse had mentioned? She knew it was a bar that had opened when she’d been in England but she’d never been inside. And God, Jesse. She felt really bad about Jesse and the things they’d said to each other.
She took off her shoes and walked to the yard. The grass felt dry against her feet, and she searched the sky for clouds but it was clear. They could use some rain. The leaves overhead were black against the moonlight in the quiet night, and the lake shone beyond the beach.
She’d come home to South Port, to see what part of herself could be salvaged and straightened out, but Leefe had been the last thing she’d expected. Her body had only given her a test run with Felice, but Leefe was a blinking neon sign that sp
elled YES. If she’d tried, she couldn’t have found someone more different in her life’s experience.
Chapter Seventeen
“Gunshot,” Leefe mumbled as she woke and then recognized thunder. Early morning rain pounded on the day care roof. She pushed herself up and checked the other bed. Devi clutched the pillow, sleeping deeply. She’d like to keep that peaceful expression on Devi’s face, but it wasn’t going to happen. Change would come roaring at them any minute.
Brushing her teeth, she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, thinking about last night. The best had been finding Devi, but those kisses. Never, ever had she tasted kisses like Clary’s, and warmth rushed through her. She washed her face, dried it, and then remembered the fear on Clary’s face in the old theater’s alley. Those kids had spent time in this day care, and she expected them to behave, but Clary had no idea who they were. Frowning, Leefe hung the towel. It might be good to take Clary out with her one of these nights.
She checked Jacob and placed a kiss on his soft cheek. He smiled in his sleep, and that stopped her. It was rare to see him smile. She pulled covers over his little body and left for the kitchen.
Later, Leefe counted heads. Thirty-three and most of the kids were wet from the rain. She helped them dry off and found dry clothes. Albie came in as the second group ate, humming to herself. They started a wash with the wet clothes and towels, and then the dishes. Albie shooed her out of the kitchen, and Leefe took a cup of coffee upstairs to wait for Devi and Jacob to wake.
The rain turned to a soft mist, and she scanned the garden they’d planted. The beans were beginning to grow, and the tomato plants looked healthy. Albie and her boyfriend had planted green onions and carrots at the back. The children often gathered at the fence, as if plants would grow if they watched hard enough. She sat in the rocking chair and thought about herself at Devi’s age.
She’d only been a year older when she’d shoplifted a candy bar at the old drug store where they’d eaten pancakes yesterday. The store had called the police, and all hell had broken loose. Mrs. Ellis had beaten her so badly that they’d locked her in the garage until the cuts had healed, and then sent her off to school. The school nurse had driven her to the clinic that day, and they’d found a slight fracture in her left leg. She’d met Beverly then. Once again, the police had brought her home, but this time with a warning. They were watching out for Leefe.
Thick-bodied and foul-mouthed, the Ellis family had never beaten her again, but they’d retaliated with a vengeance. They’d simply stopped feeding her. The only thing in their house was alcohol or drugs. That year, the school fed her the only meals she’d had, and summertime had trained her how to survive hunger. After that, nothing in her life had been hard. She was still grateful for those police, alert schoolteachers, and kind restaurant owners. In return for food, she’d run errands and clean kitchens, anything to be useful. Those places and school had become her safe place.
She’d bet Clary was a wonderful teacher. She touched her mouth, thinking of the kisses last night. This was someplace she’d never been before, including the moments with Linda.
“Ms. Ellis.” Devi sat up, her voice quivering.
“What is it, honey?” Leefe settled on the edge of the bed as Devi began to cry.
“I dreamed…I thought…Papa’s dead.”
Leefe held her. “He’s not dead.”
“They hitted each other with iron sticks. Mama didn’t get up,” Devi choked out between sobs.
“I didn’t see your papa last night, but I talked to someone who did. They said he was okay. Where did your mama hit him?”
“Here.” Devi touched Leefe’s jaw. “Where you got hurted.”
“Hurt, not hurted,” Leefe said, and turned her face so Devi could see. “See? It’s almost gone now.” She hadn’t thought of Devi noticing the bruises. “I’m okay and so are you. We’re tough.” She gave her a solid hug. “Let’s go to the bathroom, and you can show me how you brush your teeth. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” Devi used one of her new words, wiped her eyes, and then dug under the pillow. She held up the little box from last night and took out a much-used blue toothbrush. “You said brush every day.” Devi gave her a stern look that made Leefe laugh a little.
“What else is in there?”
Devi proudly held up an orange, a blue, and a green crayon. “You gave these to me.”
Leefe grinned and checked out Devi’s discolored eye. “Let’s get Jacob out of bed. The nurses will be here soon. How about an egg? We have plenty this week.”
*
Clary propped her umbrella against the chair and sat across the desk from Beverly. She’d called this morning, set up an appointment, and stopped for lattes, remembering that Beverly was fond of them.
“It would help if you told me why you’re here.” Beverly adjusted her glasses and looked at Clary, concerned. “You’re not having anxiety attacks again, are you?”
“Not since early spring.” Clary had talked to Beverly about Hannah at Piper’s last meeting, certain that Aunt Mo had already given her an earful. She’d been right.
“Well, if you do, see me.” Beverly straightened some papers on her desk. “What do you do for them?”
“I got into yoga. The breathing techniques and meditation helped me get past the pills. I’m okay, but thanks for asking. I’m here about Leefe.” She caught Beverly up on her trips to the day care, the hospital, and then took the plunge, honest about her feelings.
Beverly’s eyebrows rose. “Since you know about Leefe’s so-called parents, and that she was raised in the county home, there isn’t much to tell.”
“How could it be worse than where Devi’s been living?”
“You were at Devi’s?” Beverly lost her smile.
“Last night, after we picked her up at the police station. Devi insisted she needed something from the old theater. I drove them there.”
“I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Why? Everyone in this town ought to know. But it was the first time I’ve been afraid in South Port. Those older kids felt dangerous.”
Beverly took a drink of her latte. “South Port does know, not that it makes any difference. The town’s almost at eighty thousand at the last census. It’s the fifth largest city in Wisconsin, but first in unemployment. Our foster family base has shrunk over forty percent, most of it due to lack of jobs. There’s over a thousand homeless students here, an all-time high. The state ranks fourteenth in the country, and that’s last year’s figures. I shudder to see the new ones. Damned politics are killing the poor and the homeless.”
Clary stared across the desk. This was unheard of in Wisconsin.
“We cope, although some days we don’t make the finish line. If your parents were here, they’d be in the political thick of things, and you’d be posting bail.”
“I hear Maureen and Joe are involved,” Clary said. “You know, I doubt I even know one hundred people here. I might recognize more, but wouldn’t know their names.
“I couldn’t do it without your family and the others.” Beverly’s brow wrinkled. “How can I help you about Leefe?”
“Jesse and I fought last night when we picked up Devi at the police station. How long have you known Leefe?”
“Since an incident with a broken bone when she was in first grade, and then the next year when the Ellis family abandoned her. I made the decision to put her in the county home because it was a place to sleep and there was food, but the people there were not warm.” Beverly hesitated. “I didn’t have a foster family that I trusted at that time. Leefe was so shattered that it was like holding a shadow. You could feel her against your fingers, but…” Her voice trailed off.
“Does Jesse know this?” Clary said, and when Beverly nodded, she continued. “She tried to say that Leefe is a shady person when we argued last night. No, that’s not it. I think she meant that she was a loser.”
“Good Lord, no, not a loser. If I need the truth about a chil
d or the people in charge of them, I drop by and talk with Leefe. It’s always a bit of a reality check.” Beverly gestured out at the large office that housed South Port’s social services. “As the supervisor, I hear gossip, bits of what’s happening in this town every day. Most of it isn’t worth a tinker’s damn, but I never hear anything about Leefe, other than occasional praise.” She checked the clock before she continued. “In fact, I’m due to go over there with the city nurses this morning. It’s routine, but I’m going because of Devi. I don’t think her mother’s going to make it, and that’ll put the father in jail. We’ll have to scramble with those kids.”
Beverly took another drink of the latte, quiet for a moment. “I’ve never seen a kid, not one, work as hard as Leefe. She had a rough time in high school and hid until she joined the track team. Then she found art and that she had a talent. Worse, it took them years to get her to talk, other than terse responses. Her testing was excellent, but they were sure she had a hearing problem. She didn’t. Does she talk to you?”
“Not as much as most people, but when she does, she’s clear, to the point, and I like the way she listens.”
“There are things you share. You listen too, and you’re both athletic. You were a swimmer, she was a runner, and you both love knowledge. Of course, you talk a lot more,” Beverly said with a grin.
“I talk for a living,” Clary said, laughing.
“Leefe’s never missed a year without some college classes, and probably has enough hours to graduate. I’d love to know who her real parents were.” With a sigh, Beverly took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “If I had to name a person that’s beaten the odds in every way, it would be her. One personal thing I will tell you. Most of us have a public personality, some little façade when we meet people, but Leefe doesn’t. There’s no protective layer between her and society. She doesn’t care what others think, believe me, and has remarkable intelligence and instincts. What you see is what you get. She’s tough-minded, intense, and requires less than anyone I know. I mean less in the sense of material things, attention, or even food.”
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