Tyler let go of her hand and thumped the back of her helmet. “You’re like a squirrel on caffeine. We need to put you on a tricycle so you won’t hurt yourself.”
“Ha. Beat you.” Flannery slapped dirt from her riding pants as she walked to the Suzuki.
A big engine revved in the distance. Calvin looked back the way they’d come. “Four-wheeler alert. We need to fly outta here.”
“Mom’s probably getting supper started anyway,” Flannery said. Her bike started on the first kick. Just as quickly she sped down the trail.
Tyler’s helmet rocked side to side on his shoulders. “Girl’s insane.”
“That’s Flan for ya.” Calvin swung his leg over the Yamaha.
Dave had a fire going when they glided back into their campsite. Tyler won the toss for the shower, so Calvin had to be content to pound the dust from his jacket and deal with his sweat-soaked T-shirt. While he waited, he took a bristle brush over to his bike and knocked off the worst of the mud clumps. He thought about asking Dave to check his carburetor, but daylight was fading, and Patty brought burgers to the iron grate covering the fire. Tomorrow morning.
The air cooled quickly with nightfall. They gathered around the fire eating hamburgers and potato chips. In the darkness beyond the firelight, singing frogs seemed so numerous that Calvin envisioned them jumping over each other among the tree roots. Laughter from another campsite carried over, but Calvin’s group settled down, happy and exhausted. Nigel burned a marshmallow and ate it anyway. Calvin sat cross-legged on the ground next to Tyler, who slouched in a camp chair, softly snoring, one hand hanging limp over the side.
Flannery snickered. “Got a bucket and some warm water? We can dip his hand into it.”
Calvin grinned, imagining Tyler jumping wide-eyed from his chair and scurrying off in the dark to find the toilet. “Alas, no bucket.”
Dave laughed. “Yo, Ty. Get to bed, boy,” he called across the fire.
Light flashed across the tree trunks, lighting up the whole campsite. Car tires ground to a halt in the dirt. Calvin blinked at headlights and heard a car door slam.
“Calvin!” A figure danced in the light, wildly maneuvering around the parked bikes.
“Oh no,” Flannery groaned.
Calvin pushed to his feet. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.
There’d better be a real good reason.
Stacey staggered into his arms. She shook violently and sobbed against his chest. “I couldn’t find you! I’ve been looking forever for you.”
Voices and questions arose around them. Calvin tried to push her back, but she wouldn’t let him go. “What are you doing here?”
“I-I thought you were staying at Badin Lake. You weren’t there.”
“Badin Lake is the name of the whole area, not this campground. Stacey—” He managed to pull away and look at her face. Dark streaks stained her cheeks.
“I went to Badin Lake Campground. I looked for motorcycles, but only saw big RVs. Someone told me about this place, but I got lost in-in the dark. I was so scared!”
“Stacey, what are you doing here?”
Dave appeared beside them. “What is going on?”
Calvin looked over his shoulder. Awake now, Tyler stood and pitched something into the fire. Flannery glared with her feet wide and arms crossed. Patty stood with her hand pressed to her lips. And Nigel just stared with his mouth open.
Stacey clasped Calvin’s arm, her fingernails sharp on his skin. “I’m sorry. I just had to talk to you, Calvin. I need … I need to talk to you.”
“Oh, come on!” Flannery cried. “Couldn’t it wait until we got back?”
Calvin pulled his hair. “Oh man. I so don’t need this. Flan, just—”
Stacey took a step back and hugged herself as if she were cold. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I won’t be any trouble. I-I can … s-sleep in my car.”
“Oh, now, I don’t think we’ll make you do that,” Dave said. “Flannery can share her bed in the camper, if necessary.” He raised his hand against Flannery’s complaint. “First, let’s hear the story, then we’ll decide what to do. Stacey-girl, do your parents know you’re here?”
Stacey shrank back and didn’t answer
Dave moved with her. “You tell me now. Do your parents know where you are?”
“I-I told Mom I was staying at Zoe’s house.”
Calvin threw out his arms. “I don’t believe this.” Blood pulsed in his temples, making him dizzy. How could she do this? What was wrong with her?
Stacey’s wide eyes traveled over the people standing around them. She inched farther back. “Calvin, please.”
“One weekend,” Tyler said, his voice a soft growl. “That’s all he wanted. Couldn’t give him one weekend?”
“Okay, this ain’t gonna happen,” Dave said. “We can’t harbor a runaway.”
“Runaway!” Stacey blurted. “I’m not—No! I just want to talk to Calvin.”
Calvin didn’t know what to do or say. His friends were angry, and he couldn’t blame them. Flannery’s parents were discussing calling the police. How could she do this?
“It’s okay, y’all. Let me talk to her.”
“Did I hear this right?” Patty said, coming closer. “Your parents think you’re staying with a friend?” She reached for Stacey’s arm, but Stacey jerked away.
“P-please, don’t make me drive all the way home tonight. I can’t. I just can’t. Please!”
“Let’s all settle down, right now,” Dave said. “Come have a seat and we’ll discuss this. Don’t want to bother everyone else in the campground. Flannery, go shut that car off.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I tried to get here earlier. I got lost and, and—P-please!” Stacey stammered and shook as if she were freezing, and swayed like she was about to fall over.
Dave took hold of her elbow. “Have you been drinking?”
“No! I’m just upset.” Stacey trembled, her wild eyes pleading.
Calvin pushed out his breath and tried to think. “Okay, you’re here. Let’s talk.”
She just stood there, shaking, not responding at all. Maybe she’d expected him to fall into her arms too. Two days ago, he might have.
“Honey?” Patty was able to clasp her shoulder. “Are you sick?” She grabbed her other shoulder. “Something’s not right, that’s for sure. Let’s get her into a chair.” She guided her toward the campfire.
Flannery stomped past them, heading for the car.
Patty gave her seat to Stacey and squatted beside her, looking up at her face. Calvin slumped into Tyler’s chair while Tyler paced near the tent. The headlights went out and everything got quiet except the frogs in the woods. The firelight flickered weakly on Stacey’s ghostlike face.
Calvin sighed. “All right, what’s going on?”
“Uh …”
“Stacey, when’s the last time you ate?” Tyler stood behind her chairs now, a barely visible specter.
“I-I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Patty asked.
“S-sometime.”
“Sometime?”
“She’s anorexic,” Tyler said.
“I ate something this morning! This isn’t about that. Calvin, please make them stop.”
Calvin leaned toward her. The words that came out of his mouth seemed to come from some other source. “Tell the truth, Stacey.”
Her face hardened, although in the firelight her eyes looked like they were trembling. “I’m telling the truth. My mother fixed bacon and eggs this morning and I ate it. You can call her and ask.”
“We should do that,” Dave said. “They need to know where she is.”
Stacey gasped and surged out of her chair. “No! Don’t call … ohhh …”
Calvin caught her as she pitched sideways. He staggered dangerously close to the fire before he was able to turn Stacey around and put her back in her chair.
“Okay, something’s not right with this girl,” Dave said. “I think
we need to call 9-1-1 instead.”
“No bars. No—” Tyler dashed away, going … somewhere.
“Is she dying?” Nigel sounded like he was about to cry.
Calvin pressed his hand to the side of Stacey’s face. She was cold, but clammy. “Stace? Please. Tell me what’s happening.”
Tears rolled out of her eyes and her lips trembled.
“I think Tyler went to find the campground manager,” Flannery said.
Something tugged the front of Calvin’s shirt. Stacey’s hand. He stroked her face and gazed into her watery eyes, while people came into their campsite, adding more anxious voices to the debate over what to do. Was she diabetic? Epileptic? Drunk?
Calvin licked his lips, then whispered to Stacey, “We have to tell them the truth.”
She leaned forward, pressing her face to his chest. “I love you, Calvin. Please help me.”
Chapter 29
Blue lights danced across the tree trunks and tents. Faces loomed over and around Stacey, strangers staring, talking about her. Police radios murmured and buzzed. Calvin sat on the ground beside her chair, holding her hand, but not saying much. The adults had taken over.
She wanted desperately to be alone with him, to explain everything to him. Five minutes. Why couldn’t they give them that much?
Straining her eyes against the moving lights on top of the Jeeplike vehicle, Stacey made out that it was a park ranger truck, not a regular police car. Would a park ranger be more lenient than one of Daddy’s cohorts?
“So, what we have here,” one of the rangers said, “is a minor child, possibly a runaway, possibly with some health or mental condition. I want to know how she got here, and why. Did her boyfriend come with her? Was he driving the car?”
Dave Moore shook his head. “Nah. Calvin was here with us. His folks know he’s here. We got in around three o’clock this afternoon, set up camp, then the boys and my daughter took their bikes out on the trails. We were just settling down for the night when she got here.”
“Did Calvin know his girlfriend was going to come?”
“I really don’t think so. He was shocked to see her. Hey, Cal, you didn’t have any idea she was comin’, did you?”
“No.” Calvin’s voice was flat, lifeless.
They were talking about her like she couldn’t hear them, like she wasn’t there at all. If she could get up without getting dizzy again, if she thought she could find her way out of this horrible place without getting lost again, she would get in her car and drive home. No one wanted to believe that she had every intention of going home in the morning. To them, there was some conspiracy going on. So what she had to say didn’t matter to them at all.
Another ranger walked up to the first and handed him a cell phone. “Officer Varnell, Stiles County police. He’s the girl’s father.”
“A cop? That’s ironic.” The ranger put the phone to his ear and turned away to speak. “Officer Varnell. Good evening, sir. This is Deputy Tucker, Uwharrie National Forest Service. We’ve found your daughter in one of our campgrounds …” His voice was muddled in all the other conversation as he walked to the Jeep.
Dead. She was dead. Daddy would make sure of it.
Stacey’s body wouldn’t stop shaking. Every muscle, every joint, just shaking. She looked down at Calvin, and he turned worried eyes up to her. He looked so tired and frightened.
“Why?” he murmured. “Just tell me why.”
She sniffed and her throat clenched painfully. “Because I love you,” she squeaked.
Shoes crunched in the pine straw, coming toward them. Another park ranger loomed above her, but seemed to be looking at Calvin. “Are you the boyfriend? I need to talk to you a few moments.”
Calvin pushed up to his feet.
Panic gripped Stacey. Squeezing the arms of the canvas chair, she tried to stand, but rocked back into the awkward seat. “He’s not in trouble, is he? Calvin didn’t do anything. I promise! Please don’t do anything to him.”
Leading Calvin away by the elbow, the ranger looked back at her. “He’s not in trouble. Just a witness.”
“A witness to what? I just came here to talk to him!”
The ranger didn’t respond, but Calvin glanced back at her. And then they left her alone. Everyone left her alone. Their disapproving or sad glances told her she wasn’t wanted here. Even people from the other campsites, who stood around, watching, didn’t want her there. She’d ruined their fun time camping. She was unwelcome. Flannery’s expression was flat-out hateful. And Tyler, standing with his arms crossed, pacing next to a tree, tried not to make eye contact with her. He was ashamed of her now.
Calvin stood next to the ranger’s SUV, tugging his hair and talking with his head down.
Stacey lowered her own head but glanced left and right, peering into the darkness beyond the tent and the RV. Could she run and hide in those woods, and then circle back and get in her car? The keys should still be in the ignition … if Flannery hadn’t yanked them out.
Deputy Tucker came back, no longer on the phone. He stood over Stacey, his hands on his hips. “Miss Varnell, your father has asked us to take you into custody. He’s on his way here, but it’ll take him a few hours.”
Her breath whooshed out of her lungs and wouldn’t come back. “You-you’re … arresting m-me?”
“No, not arresting you. However, running away is an offense in the juvenile code.”
“I didn’t run away! I just wanted to talk to Calvin.”
“You’re two hundred miles from your home, alone, in the middle of the night. That sure looks like running away.”
“I was going to go right back!” Somehow her eyes were able to produce fresh tears.
“Well, your father is on his way. We’re going to take you to the station to wait for him.”
“Can’t I stay here? He can come here instead.”
“No, I’m sorry. We’re responsible for you now, and I’m sure all these people would like to get some sleep. So come on. Can you stand up?”
He held a hand out to help her, but Stacey edged away from it and managed to push herself out of the chair. She staggered toward the SUV, refusing to look at anyone else around her. But then she saw Calvin, and he turned toward her.
“Calvin,” she whimpered. She ran to him, and he stepped forward to meet her. They crashed into each other and held on. His arms were so tight around her. He shook like he was sobbing.
“I’m so sorry,” she said against his jacket. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Please, baby, please. Just … go see a doctor now. Please?”
“Calvin—”
“Please?”
Words she had no time to say gushed out of her. “I love you. I don’t want to be apart from you. I wasn’t flirting with Noah, I promise. I want to be your girlfriend again. Please, Calvin!”
His fingers tangled in her hair. “I’m right here …”
Stacey snaked her hand downward until it rested over Calvin’s heart. “Right here.”
“Always,” he whispered.
Someone looped a hand around her elbow and gently pulled them apart. Deputy Tucker pressed a button on his radio, which sat on his shoulder next to Stacey’s ear.
“Ten—ninety-one is a transport, one female juvenile, enroute, two-nine-seven-five-two point six. ETA forty-five minutes.”
The radio returned static, then a woman’s voice said, “Ten-four.”
Stacey stumbled over a tree root. Only the ranger’s tightened grip on her elbow kept her from falling. He opened the back door of the SUV and kept hold of her arm until she was inside. Stacey tested the door handle as soon as the ranger turned his back. Of course, it didn’t work.
A metal grate separated the back seat from the front of the vehicle. The seats were vinyl and cold. Did they put criminals in this backseat? Stacey pressed her sleeve over her nose and scooted to the very front edge of the seat.
Outside, the other park ranger was talking with Calvin again, an
d Calvin nodded at something he’d said. Deputy Tucker opened the driver’s door of the SUV, setting off door-ajar bells, and slid inside. He picked up a clipboard and wrote on it, while his partner took tentative steps toward the vehicle.
“What about my car?” Stacey slid even closer to the grate, as if the ranger couldn’t hear her. “What’s going to happen to my car?”
“We’re deciding that now. Probably going to tow it into the station.”
“Why can’t I just drive home? I promise I’ll go straight home. I’m not drunk or anything, so I can drive.”
He looked in the rearview mirror at her. “We can’t let you go, Stacey. So just sit tight. Your dad will come get you in a few hours.”
“But what about my car?”
The man didn’t answer. His partner reached the vehicle and opened the door. Calvin stood a short distance away, next to the motorcycles, watching her and looking so lost.
“Can I say good-bye to Calvin, please?”
“You already said good-bye to him.”
“Please! I need … I need …” She slid over to the side window and pressed her hands against it. She shouted, so he would hear her. “I love you, Calvin!”
“Seat belt, please,” the second ranger said.
How could they be so cruel? “Five more minutes? Please? I just want to talk to him.”
“Sorry, we’re rolling. Put your seat belt on.”
She complied. She was in their control now. She’d have to comply with everything, or they might do something worse to her. Running away was a crime? Like, could they put her in jail for that? Or juvenile detention? Stacey leaned back against the seat, her sleeve pressed to her mouth to muffle her now tearless sobs. Her head pounded, and as the vehicle moved along the curving roads that had so confused her before, she was immediately carsick. At least the men in the front were nice enough to crack open the windows at her request.
An office with desks and papers and computers and uncomfortable chairs, and people who seemed to think she was something of a joke or a spectacle. Stacey curled up in a ball and refused to look at them. At least they didn’t lock her in a cell. And it seemed she was the only person in this place who wasn’t wearing a uniform. No real criminals. There were three park cops, but their phone hardly ever rang. She must have been their sole excitement for the night. Then two other people came in, wearing different uniforms, and it took only a moment for Stacey to realize they had come for her. A woman walked up to her chair and leaned forward, as if she were talking to a small child.
Running Lean Page 26