"What about Lucy?" Emil said. So it wasn't my imagination. Emil really did hate me.
Out on the stairs, Damon flicked his eyes over at me, but I just gave him my most mysterious smile.
"What about her?" Leon said, sounding like he was on the verge of an outburst.
"Are you sure she doesn't know the code?" Emil asked.
"Yes, I'm sure!" Ben said. "And even if she did, the machine keeps a record! No one turned the burglar alarm off last night. I checked."
"Well," Megan said. "What's done is done. We can't go back in time. But I hope you all realize how serious this is."
"What do you mean?" Gina said.
"I mean the legislature just pulled our funding! This isn't exactly going to make them real eager to put that funding back in."
"That's not fair!" Ben said. "There's no proof any of these kids were involved. In fact, we can prove they weren't involved! How many of the parents of teenagers on this block can say that?"
"This is politics," Megan said. "Since when does 'fair' have anything to do with it?"
• • •
I really wanted to tell Nate what had happened, but I didn't want to talk about it in the school hallway. So I waited until after school, when we met to pick up garbage.
He smiled when he saw me. "Where to today?" he said.
"Under the track bleachers?" I said. And on the way there, I finally told him what had happened two nights before.
"Whoa!" he said. "Someone really set a car on fire?"
"Yeah. And the worst part is that the whole neighborhood thinks it was someone from Kindle Home." I went on to explain how the house had just lost its funding and that the fire couldn't have come at a worse time.
"Everyone thinks it was one of you guys just because you're in a group home?" Nate said, and I nodded. "That so completely sucks!" he said. I couldn't help but marvel at how much he had changed on the subject of group homes since a few weeks earlier.
"I don't know," I said.
"What does that mean?"
By now, we'd come upon the bleachers out at the track. I was glad to be back under there, even though I didn't quite know why. We stooped down together to prowl around underneath the seats.
"It means I think maybe it was one of us," I said. Ordinarily, this wasn't the kind of thing I'd admit to someone who didn't live in a group home--that a lot of us could be kind of wild. But I trusted Nate now, so I wasn't worried about what he'd think.
"It's true we have a burglar alarm," I went on, "but there's no motion detector. It just detects open doors and windows."
"Isn't that enough?"
I shook my head. "Doors and windows aren't the only ways in and out of a house. And if you're inside a house to begin with, it's especially easy to figure a way out again."
"What about the spot checks?"
"That's easy. You just wait to leave until right after they check on you. They hardly ever check more than once every two hours--usually not even that often."
"So it really could've been someone from Kindle Home."
"Yeah, but why? I mean, everyone there has to know that Kindle Home is ten times better than any other group home in The System. Why would anyone want to close it down? At first, I thought it was Joy-- that she'd set the fire so she could somehow pin it on me. But why do that? I mean, if she's trying to get rid of me, there are a lot less complicated ways than that."
As we talked, Nate and I were still scanning the ground under the bleachers for garbage. But it didn't look like there was any. Nate's friends had long since forgotten him, and the cross-country season was over now anyway. Any garbage that had been here Nate and I had picked up days ago. I'd known this, so why had I wanted to come here?
"Maybe it really was one of the other teenagers in your neighborhood," he said. He thought for a second, then said, "Alicia!" He'd spoken all of a sudden, making me jump.
"Huh?" I said, turning. Was she there? Had she come upon us again?
"No!" Nate said. "I mean, she could've set the fire!"
"Are you kidding? She'd break a nail." The idea of that bony supermodel-wannabe setting a car on fire made me laugh.
"Lucy, I'm serious. She's nuts. And you don't know about her temper. You should've heard her talk about groupies. And that was before I broke up with her to be with you! There's no telling what she'd do."
"But why?"
"To get the house shut down! She's smart enough to know how people in the neighborhood would react. And by getting you moved to another home in another school district, she'd get us broken up. She'd be punishing us both at the same time."
Alicia? I thought to myself. Was it possible? Then I remembered how when I'd first met Nate and Alicia, I'd nicknamed him "Ice" and her "Fire." My nickname for him had turned out to be all wrong, but it would be funny--ironic funny, not ha-ha fiinny-- if my nickname for her turned out to be accurate.
"Your eye," I said.
"What about it?"
"It's finally healed." I reached up and touched it. I don't think I'd ever touched anything or anyone so tenderly in my whole life.
"Yeah," he said. "Finally."
"I'm really sorry about that, you know."
"It was my fault. If I'd been you, I would have hit me too. But man, you sure were angry."
"What?" I was angry, yeah, but I didn't remember being that angry.
"Are you kidding? You should've seen the look in your eyes. It was like an explosion. I'd never seen anything like it. Scared the hell out of me, if you wanna know the truth."
I didn't like where this conversation was going.
"I'm scared," I said. "What's going to happen?"
"It's okay," he whispered, and then he opened his arms to me.
For a second, I thought about saying something mean or sarcastic--anything that would hurt his feelings. I knew if I dogged Nate right then, he'd probably never come back to me. But I didn't want to push him away anymore, not at all. What I wanted was to step forward into those waiting arms, which is exactly what I did. As his arms closed around me, I suddenly felt protected from the world, like I d been packaged for shipping--bound in bubble wrap and suspended in Styrofoam peanuts. And now I knew the real reason why I'd wanted to see Nate alone, and why I'd wanted to come under the track bleachers. It wasn't to find garbage, or even to talk about what had happened the night before. It was so we could be together. I guess that meant that somehow I had changed.
"Everything'll be okay," he whispered. "I promise." Then he leaned forward and kissed me. His lips were even more gentle than my fingers had been when I touched his bruise. I kissed him back, and suddenly what I was feeling was even better than the Styrofoam peanut and bubble-wrap thing. I was with Nate high up in the mountains, in that perfect cabin from Heidi, and safer than I'd felt since I didn't know when.
• • •
But that night, I woke up to the sound of more sirens.
This time, I didn't need to look out the window to know that somewhere in our neighborhood, someone had set another car on fire.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Wednesday, the phone in the hallway rang as I was on my way to the bathroom, so I answered it.
"Kindle Home," I said.
"Damn juvenile delinquents!" said the man on the other end. "Go back where you came from!"
He hung up on me, and I put the phone back down. When I turned for the bathroom, I saw that Gina had stepped out of her bedroom and was watching me with a grim face.
"Another one?" she asked. Now I knew why we were suddenly getting all these early-morning phone calls.
I nodded.
"Ignore them," she said. "They're just a bunch of ignorant jerks. I'm taking the phone off the hook." She started for the phone. But before she had even reached it, it was already ringing again.
• • •
"I need to do something," I said to Nate that afternoon as we picked up garbage.
"Do something?" Nate said.
"About the car
fires. If it's Alicia who's setting them, I need to catch her in the act. If I can prove that it isn't someone from Kindle Home, then they can't close us down."
"Are you serious?"
"Sure. I'll sneak out tonight. It can't be that hard."
"But what if you get caught? People will think you set the fires!"
Nate was right. If I got caught outside the house at night, it was all over. Even Leon couldn't help me. Sneaking out at night was a Mortal Sin even without people thinking I was setting the fires. I'd get shipped to Rabbit Island for sure.
"You don't understand!" I said. "If I don't catch whoever's doing this, they'll close the house down!" I surprised Nate with my intensity. But it was like Nate had said before, when he was talking about Alicia: If Kindle Home got shut down, I'd be sent to another group home in a different school district, or even a different city. In other words, we might never see each other again.
"But Lucy," Nate said quietly, like he was embarrassed by something. "What if you do catch whoever it is? I mean, what if people don't believe you?"
I knew what Nate was trying to say. Even if I caught the arsonist red-handed, it would still be my word against his. Or hers. And if that "her" happened to be Alicia, there was no way anyone was ever going to believe me over her. Which meant there really wasn't anything I could do. Kindle Home was going to be shut down, and I'd get moved away from Nate whether I liked it or not.
I couldn't think of anything to say, so I scanned the area for garbage. But the only I trash I spotted was a bottle cap and a couple of gum wrappers.
"Unless . . ." Nate said.
I looked back at him. "Unless?"
"Unless you, like, got the arsonist on video! No one could argue with proof like that! I have a camcorder you could use. It even works in low light!"
I smiled. Nate was absolutely right. With a digital camcorder, I could prove beyond a doubt that whoever was setting the fires wasn't anyone from Kindle Home. I'd still have to explain how I'd snuck out of the house in order to record the arsonist, but I figured I'd deal with that when the time came. Maybe I could mail a copy of the evidence to the police anonymously.
"I'll do it," Nate said.
"Do what?" I asked, confused.
"Sneak out and try to get the arsonist on video. There's no reason for you to come with me. It's not nearly as big a deal if I get caught."
Now I was more confused than ever. Nate was going to try to catch the arsonist for me? If he did get caught, people would think he was the person setting the fires. He might not get sent to Rabbit Island, but it wouldn't be pretty. Why would he risk that for my sake? Why would anyone risk anything for my sake?
"No," I said, firmly.
"But Lucy--"
"Forget it, Nate. This is my responsibility. Besides, you don't have nearly the experience sneaking around that I do. You try to do it by yourself, you'll get caught for sure."
"Well, at least let me come with you."
I thought about that. Truth was, I didn't want to be alone. Even more than that, I was secretly
thrilled at the thought that Nate cared enough to want to help me out.
"Okay," I agreed at last.
"Fantastic!" Nate said. He kept talking, mentioning a place where we could meet and offering different strategies we could use to catch the person setting the fires. I was listening, but I was also thinking two things: This crazy plan of ours just might work. And also, Is this what it means to be in love?
• • •
That night, I waited in bed with the lights out until I finally heard Yolanda snoring. Then I had to wait for the first spot check. The hard part wasn't staying awake--I was too excited to fall asleep. The hard part was not getting bored waiting. They say a watched pot never boils. Well, when you're living in a group home and waiting for the first nightly spot check so you can sneak out of the house and catch the person who's setting the neighborhood cars on fire, that spot check never comes either.
Just before midnight, the door to our bedroom finally creaked open, and Leon stepped inside to make sure Yolanda and I were both in bed.
Once he was gone, I crawled out of bed, being careful not to wake Yolanda. I didn't bother making a dummy of myself out of pillows and extra blankets, like I'd heard of other kids doing when they snuck out at night. I knew that any counselor doing spot checks on this night would make absolutely sure that he or she saw my actual face. And if any of the counselors did find a dummy in my bed, they'd know I'd snuck out for sure. On the other hand, if one of the counselors found my bed empty, that only meant I wasn't in bed. I could still be somewhere else in the house. In other words, they'd have to search for me, and that would buy me precious time I might need in order to sneak back inside the house.
I listened at the door of my bedroom until I was positive Leon was done checking in on the other bedrooms. The counselor on night duty usually spent most of the time down in the kitchen or living room, so once I heard Leon plodding downstairs, I slipped quietly out into the hall. I was still wearing what I always wore to bed--shorts and an oversized T-shirt. That way, if I ran into anyone in the hallway, I wouldn't have to explain my being dressed for outside.
The hall light was on as usual, and I walked casually toward the bathroom, like that's where I was really going. But halfway there, I stopped at the doorway that opened onto a set of very narrow stairs that led up to the attic. The door was locked, but it was old, and I knew I could pick the lock. I had done this earlier in the day to make sure I could.
The instant I touched the doorknob, another bedroom door opened behind me in the hallway.
For a split second, I panicked. What if it was Ben or Gina? How would I explain my being at the door to the attic?
But then I remembered my backup plan, which I immediately put into effect. I turned to the linen closet, which was just across the hall. I pretended to be looking for another blanket.
I peeked around to see who had emerged from the bedroom.
It was Melanie, on her way to the bathroom. Her hair was messed and her eyes were barely open. She'd obviously just woken up.
"'Sup?" I said.
"Hey," she said, and disappeared into the bathroom.
I now had however long it took Melanie to pee to unlock the door to the attic stairs and then get it closed again.
I slipped my plastic library card into the crack between the door and the frame and started working it around, trying to unlatch the lock. Earlier in the afternoon, I'd been able to hear the lock click when it opened.
It didn't click.
I kept poking around with my library card, but it still didn't click.
I heard the toilet flush.
Damn! I thought. What now? Did I head back to my bedroom and risk waking Yolanda up? Ifl turned back toward the linen closet, would Melanie believe that I still hadn't found a blanket?
Suddenly, I remembered: I'd managed to open the door earlier that day, but it had an old-fashioned lock that needed a key to lock again, so I'd had to leave it unlatched.
In other words, the door was still unlocked!
I turned the knob.
Sure enough, it wasn't locked.
I pulled on the door, but it didn't open. Had I been wrong? Had it been locked again somehow?
No. It wasn't locked, but like almost every door in Kindle Home, it had a tendency to stick.
I yanked at the door. Was Melanie the kind of person who always washed her hands after going to the bathroom? I hoped to God she was! To my relief, I heard the quiet splash of water in the bathroom sink.
I gave the attic door one more jerk, and finally, with a quiet pop, it gave way.
I pulled the door the rest of the way open, and quickly stepped inside just as I heard Melanie yank open the door to the bathroom.
At the same time Melanie closed the bathroom door, I eased mine shut too. Then I waited at the bottom of the attic steps, listening as Melanie worked her way down the hall back to her and Joy's bedroom.
O
nce she was gone, I started up the steps. They hadn't been this dark earlier in the day, but I didn't dare turn on a light. They hadn't squeaked so much either. In the silence of Kindle Home at night, the creaking sounded like the whine of distant sirens.
It was just as dark at the top of the stairs. But it had been easy to maneuver up a narrow stairway without light. The attic, on the other hand, was completely full of clutter--lamps and paintings and boxes and a rocking chair and a bed frame, taken apart and leaned up against one wall. I'd done my best to clear a narrow pathway on my earlier visit, but I hadn't expected it to be this dark. Somehow I had to make it all the way across the room to the window on the far side. And if I accidentally stumbled over anything, or knocked over any of the stacks of cardboard boxes, I might very well wake up whoever was sleeping below me.
The Last Chance Texaco Page 10