by Linda Nelson
“I told you to wait, I would be right back,” she said to Carol.
“No, I said I wanted to apologize to your folks for what happened. And I meant it.”
Karla poked her head in the doorway quickly and saw where her mom sat in the living room, once again nursing a drink, another highball.
“I don’t think now would be a good time.”
“Any time is a good time for an apology.”
Carol forced her way in the door behind Karla and spotted Mrs. Centon immediately. She never actually gave any consideration to the kind of drink Mrs. Centon was drinking. All she cared about was trying to right the wrong she was kind of responsible for against Karla, back on that night two months ago when she had brought Karla to her first teen party. It was the night when Karla had overdosed on some kind of date rape drug, and had almost died.
“Mrs. Centon, it’s me Carol. I came by to apologize for what happened to Karla that night. I’ll do anything to make things up to Karla.”
Karla’s mom looked up from the book she was reading and laid her eyes upon Carol. She pulled her eye glasses off her face so she could get a better look at the menace of a child who had almost taken the life of her daughter.
“You – you come here expecting forgiveness?”
Karla’s mom lurched up out of her chair. She was in no mood to be messed with. All she wanted to do was get her hands on this little bitch and ring her neck.
She got right up into Carol’s face and was surprised to see how Carol did not flinch one bit as she shouted at her, “You little bitch – get out of my house.”
Carol could read the dangerous look in Mrs. Centon’s eyes. She knew that look. She had seen it many times in her own mom when she was either hammered or stoned on coke. She began to back up cautiously, remaining out of Karla’s mom’s reach.
Karla was afraid of what perhaps was about to happen. She reached down without hesitation and grabbed Carol by the hand and pulled her toward the door, saying to her, “come on, we had better go. I told you now wasn’t a good time to do this, you should of listened.”
As they both fled out the door and into the street they could hear Karla’s mom screaming, “Karla, you get back here. I didn’t say you could go anywhere. You’re grounded, remember, you’re grounded until I say so…”
Karla looked over her shoulder for a brief moment before taking Max’s hand, saying, “Let’s get out of here.”
She looked over her shoulder, and she could see her mom standing at the front door, still hollering at her to return immediately.
Instead, the four of them began jogging down the street toward the basketball court.
Chapter 2–Hello, 911?
Mrs. Centon hollered, “Karla, you get back here right this minute!”
Karla ignored her and kept right on walking away with her friends. She yelled to her one more time only to see her break out into a jog with her friends and quickly disappear down the street.
Mrs. Centon fumed, “Not again, I will not let you get away with this again!”
Her daughter had done this to her just the other day. She had walked right out the door knowing full well that she was grounded and not allowed outside. Her room was where she belonged, working on her school work, not outside keeping company with hooligans.
“Walk out on me, will you, I’ll show you,” she continued to say. Her words slurred a little, but she never took notice while she took another small sip of her scotch and tonic.
That daughter of hers had not been the same ever since they had moved here some two months ago. She had no idea as to why her daughter was behaving like this. Ever since that first week here, Karla had become rebellious and disobedient, and her husband would do nothing about it. He was useless when it came to disciplining their child.
Where the hell was he anyway? Shouldn’t of he been home an hour ago?
They had moved here so that he would be closer to work, but still he was never home on time. Maybe he was keeping company with someone else. No, she shook the notion out of her head, that wasn’t like him. He was a very devoted man unlike some of her friends’ husbands.
But the truth was, he was never around anymore. But she would deal with him later. Laurette had to do something about her daughter, or she would be getting worse. What could she do, she wondered?
Then the thought struck her. She took one more sip of her drink and picked up the phone and dialed 911. It was answered almost immediately.
“Hello?”
“Hello,” said Mrs. Centon. “I want to report a run-away.
My teenage daughter just ran away from home.”
“Maim’, this number is for emergencies only.”
“But this is an emergency. Did you not hear me? I said my daughter ran away from home.”
“If you want to report a runaway teen then you need to call or visit your local police station, Mrs. Centon.”
“What’s that? How do you know my name? I didn’t tell you my name,” Mrs. Centon slurred. She was bewildered over the fact that the operator knew who she was.
“Maim’, your phone number showed up on my caller id,” answered the operator, “and if you do not require emergency medical assistance then you need to hang up your phone. This line is for emergency use only.”
“Well, I never heard such a thing. Isn’t this the police station?”
“No, Maim’…”
“Can’t you connect me to the police station; I mean you are an operator, right?”
“No, Maim’,” answered the 911 operator, “we do not have the facilities or the resources to forward phone calls for anyone.
You need to hang up so this line will be available to receive emergency calls, a life may depend on it May I repeat this line is for emergency use only.”
Mrs. Centon was about to continue her argument with the operator when a rap sounded on her screen door. Instead of hanging the phone up properly she set the receiver down on the living room chair.
The 911 operator continued to say, “Maim’ I am sorry, you have left me no choice. I have reported your call to the police. They should be at your home within the next few minutes.”
Mrs. Centon forgot all about the phone. She could see the two police officers standing at her door looking in at her.
“Can I help you officer?” Mrs. Centon asked with a heavy slur. She held open the door allowing both officers to enter into her home.
While one officer questioned her, the other one crossed the living room to where the telephone handset was resting on the chair, and hung it back on its hook.
“Ma’am, my name is James, and this is Officer Theresa, what seems to be the problem here?”
“Well it’s about time you got here,” Mrs. Centon said as she staggered across the room to where her drink was sitting on the end table next to her chair.
“I want to report a runaway.”
Theresa took out her pad of paper and began writing notes down as her partner continued with the questioning. At the same time, she noted how trashed the woman seemed to be.
“Who is this runaway in relation to you?” Asked James.
He moved closer to the woman and got a strong whiff of her breath and knew that they needed to handle this carefully.
“It’s my daughter Karla,” the woman fumed.
“Is it all right if we sit and talk,” asked Theresa. She could see that the woman was close to teetering over from her loss of balance.
Mrs. Centon sat down on the edge of her chair. She was still agitated by Karla’s disobedience and waved her hands about her in strong gesture.
James took a seat next to Theresa and continued on with the questioning.
“So how old is Karla and when did she run away?”
“Karla is sixteen, and she ran away a little while ago.”
“Ma’am can you tell us what took place to make you think that your daughter ran away?”
“Well for one thing, she was with those kids. You know, the ones that I don’t w
ant her around, and she knows that she is grounded, but she left with them anyway.”
Theresa asked, “Did she take any of her belongings with her?”
Karla’s mom looked at the police woman strangely before answering.
Mrs. Centon scowled, “Are you implying that I am lying?”
The officers could see how agitated the woman was and knew that this was due to her excessive consumption of alcohol. If she were left in peace, to sleep it off it would be best for all.
Officer James scribbled a few more notes down on his pad.
“Tell you what Mrs. Centon, we will try and find your daughter and see to it that she returns home.
Can you tell us in which direction she went?”
Laurette stood up and swayed. She had to hold on to the edge of the arm of the chair to steady herself before she was able to indicate by pointing in the direction she had remembered seeing her daughter go, “She went down the street in that direction with her friends. I don’t know what is down there, but I do know it is not the school or Library.
Thank you officer, James,” Mrs. Centon leaned a little bit toward James so she could see his name on his badge. At the same time, she glared at Officer Theresa. It irked her to have the woman question her on whether or not her daughter actually ran away or not. Of course, she ran away...
She waited for the two officers to leave. As soon as they were gone she locked the door behind them and staggered to the bed room. She barely could keep her eyes open, and her balance was getting worse. She had to steady herself by grabbing on to any solid surface that was near her like the counter top in the kitchen and the walls in the hallway to keep her from falling down.
The bed was as comfy as it had been when she had awoken around noon time. Mrs. Centon nestled herself among the unmade sheets and blankets and fell fast asleep, never taking the time to change in to any kind of sleepwear.
Outside the house, the two police officers walked back to their car. Many times they came across people who were under the influence just as Mrs. Centon was, so they knew they had to take care as to how they were going to handle the situation. Most likely she was making something out of nothing because of her intoxication. Drunks tended to do that.
“Let’s go pay Karla a little visit and see what she has been up to,” James said to his partner as he put the car in gear and drove in the direction toward the basketball court, “Hopefully she has been staying out of trouble since we last saw her.”
Chapter 3–Game On
“What the hell is up with your Mom?” Asked Carol as soon as they reached the court.
Max picked up the ball and gave it a couple of bounces before holding it snug in the crook of his arm while he waited for everyone to join him.
“She was drunk,” Karla fumed. “I told you to wait. I knew she was going to be like that as soon as I saw her.”
“Karla, your mom has a problem,” said Max. As far as he was concerned anyone who drank like that during that time of the day had a problem. At least that was what he got from listening to his dad talk during dinner time about some of the court cases he had recently handled that involved people who had been under the influence.
Even though Max didn’t get along with his dad he still was proud to say that his dad was a lawyer. He got along better with his mom on most occasions.
So far they had the court to themselves apparently because of the crisp thirty degree Friday afternoon air.
“You think I don’t know that? Damn it – she’s always been like that since I can remember.”
“What about your Dad?” Rod asked, “Is he like that too?”
“Naa – he is okay. He normally doesn’t drink. His only problem is that he is never around anymore.”
“I can see why,” replied Carol. “But I know what it is like.”
Carol wanted to say more about how her folks were messed up like that too, but she was embarrassed to say so. How could you tell your friends that your mom was an addict anyway? Would they even believe you?
“I’m glad my folks aren’t like that,” said Max. His dad was a scotch drinker and only drank after nine at night. He used to tell him it was so that he could unwind after a long day at work. “What about you Rod? Are your folks messed up too?”
“My mom works hard, all right? That’s all I will say.” Rod pulled the ball from Max’s hold and began to dribble it before getting off a shot at the basket with a perfect landing.
Karla changed the subject. She had enough talk about parents for the day. “Are we going to team up or what?”
“Carol, you’re with me,” Rod he reminded her.
“You're with me babe,” Max said with a grin.
Rod shot the ball off on a bounce to Carol. She began immediately to dribble the ball closer to the basket in order to get a shot off.
Karla moved in closer to her but missed knocking the ball away as Carol spun around with the ball in her hands. She looked for Rod and sent the ball on a pass to him where he was standing almost directly below the basket.
Max swiped the ball away from him in midair and tossed it to Karla.
Karla saw that she was close enough to the basket and sent the ball on its way and was surprised to see it sink into the basket.
“That’s one to zero,” Max announced as he passed the ball to Rod.
Karla was happily surprised to see that she had managed to get the ball into the basket on the first try. She was getting better at it thanks to Max’s help.
A police car pulled up to the sidewalk and two officers got out of it right outside the fence around the ball court.
As soon as Carol saw the car pull up and park outside the ball court she said, “What the hell?”
Rod thought about taking off right then with some excuse but thought better of it. He knew if he ran he would look guilty. They couldn’t be there for him anyway. Lately, he hadn’t done anything wrong, or at least as far as he knew of.
Max too was a bit nervous to see the officers walking toward him. He held his ground and wondered what they wanted.
Carol harbored a suspicion to what this visit was all about. But, she was surprised when the officers addressed Karla instead.
“Karla, Karla Centon?”
“That’s me,” Karla answered.
“We received a call from your mom a little while ago, and we are here just to see what is up and happening.”
“Nothing, we are just here playing a game of basketball. Why did she call you?”
“Your mom claims that you ran away from home.”
“Ah – I don’t think so. I’m just here playing a game with my friends.”
“She said you disobeyed her.”
“Can you believe this shit? I’m calling my dad.” Karla pulled her cell phone from her pocket and placed the call.
He answered immediately.
“Dad, mom is drunk again!
And this time she called the cops on me and said that I ran away from home.”
He asked, “Are they there right now?”
“Yeah...”
“Then let me talk to them.”
Karla held the phone out to Officer James, “My dad wants to talk to you.”
The teens listened in, waiting for the verdict to be determined.
“Yes she did,” Officer James said into the phone. “I see – That I will do.”
The officer ended the call and handed the phone back to Karla. “Your dad said all is okay with you. He will be home around eight tonight and that you should wait here until he gets home.
Are you all right with all this? Do you have someone who can stay with you? It is not safe to be on the street after dark. That is how people get hurt.”
“Mom is like this a lot. I will be all right.” She looked toward Max, “I’m sure Max here will keep me company. We’ll just continue playing ball.”
Officer Theresa directed her next question to Carol. “Carol, have you bothered to check in with your folks today?”
�
�That I did,” Carol lied and rolled her eyes. Why did the pig have to ask her such an embarrassing question in front of her friends?
Officer James addressed Karla in reference to Max and Rod, “So Karla, who are your new friends?”
Karla introduced them. “This is Max and Rod. They are both new in town.”
“Whereabouts are you from,” the officer asked the two boys.
“I’m from Manchester, and he is from Roxbury,” Rod replied.
“Welcome to the neighborhood.
We’re going to let you kids get back to your game. Stay clean and out of trouble,” Officer James said.
“We will,” Carol replied. She was thankful that this had gone well. She had managed to stay under the radar of the local PD After doing two weeks of community service for the party incident.
Karla stood silently with her friends and watched and waited for the cruiser to pull away.
As soon as the officers were gone Rod could not help but ask. “What the hell was that all about?”
“Apparently my Mom called the cops on me. She told them that I ran away.”
“What a bitch,” Max replied.
They continued to stand around after the momentum of the game had been disrupted. Now no one actually felt like playing. It was cold and there had to be something better to do than this to keep warm.
A group of teens appeared and were about to ask for the court anyway when Max asked, “Are we good?”
Everyone nodded, and he passed the ball off to the first guy in the group. “The court is yours.”
Max moved off the court and produced a joint from a small bag in his pocket while Karla fetched her bag from underneath the bench inside the court before joining her friends.
“Anyone want a hit?”
Max held out the joint for the next person.
Carol was next. It had been a month since she had a hit and she was craving it so bad. Good thing they did not decide to do a search before leaving or Max would have been had for possession charges. She was glad that he hadn’t gotten caught with it. She seriously needed the hit after all that.