Nowhere to Turn

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Nowhere to Turn Page 4

by Norah McClintock


  “Is your grandpa going to be okay?” I asked while I pulled on my boots.

  “He gets really frustrated when he has trouble talking,” Isobel said.

  “That happens to a lot of people who have strokes,” I said. It had happened to my grandmother.

  “I know,” Isobel said. “I keep telling him that. We all do. And his doctor says that he’s doing great in other ways. Grandpa is really strong. He was able to get out of bed almost right away—with help—and his doctor says that’s good. His right side is weak, but his left side is fine. He’s already getting around upstairs with a walker. The physical therapist says he’ll be ready to tackle the stairs any day now. I know Grandpa can’t wait. He hates being cooped up like this. I promised him as soon as the doctor said it was okay, we’d go to the mall and people watch.”

  “That’s great,” I said. “He’s lucky you’re here.” I considered my next question carefully as I buttoned my coat. “Isobel, how did you know I know Nick? Did your grandfather tell you that in his e-mails too?”

  She shook her head. “He told me about Nick and about you, but he never said anything about the two of you being friends.”

  Friends.

  “But upstairs, you said you knew that I knew him.”

  “Nick had a picture of you in his backpack. It fell out one day when he was getting ready to take Orion for a walk.”

  Nick had been carrying a picture of me? Even after he’d seen Ben and me together?

  “I asked him if it was a picture of his girlfriend,” Isobel said. She blushed. “He’s so quiet, you know? I was trying to find out if he was seeing anyone.”

  I held my breath.

  “But he said it was just a picture of someone he knew from the animal shelter. That’s how I knew he knew you. Then the next couple of times he came over, another girl came with him. She was kind of dirty-looking, but Nick seemed really friendly with her. Is she his girlfriend?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. Nick hadn’t even said I was a friend. I was just “someone he knew.”

  “I thought he was nice,” Isobel said. “And I know Grandpa likes him. He told me he’d hired him as a dog walker. He said Nick was really smart.”

  “Is that all he said?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did he tell you anything about Nick’s past?”

  “You mean that he’d been in trouble before?” She shook her head. “My dad was really mad when he found out that Grandpa let Nick into the house even though he knew that he had a record.”

  Isobel walked me to the door.

  “You told Grandpa that Nick said he didn’t take those coins,” she said. “Do you believe that?”

  “I know he isn’t a thief,” I said.

  “But the police said—”

  “I know it looks bad, Isobel. But I also know Nick. He likes your grandfather. He respects him. I can’t believe that he would steal from him.”

  Isobel looked doubtful.

  “What does your grandfather think?” I asked.

  “I know he’s upset that his coins are missing. They were important to him. He’s been a collector forever. At first my dad didn’t want to tell him about the theft—Grandpa was in the hospital when it happened. But he needed Grandpa to sign some papers for the insurance, so he had to. I was there when he did. I saw the look on his face. He was so sad when my dad told him what the police had said.” She looked at me. “My dad says Nick had probably been waiting for the opportunity to steal from Grandpa.”

  I could see how someone might think that—someone who didn’t know Nick, like Isobel’s father, or someone who had a low opinion of him, like Glen. But that didn’t make them right. I pulled on my mittens and reached for the doorknob. I had delivered Nick’s message. I had checked on Orion. But I hadn’t learned any more than Beej’s DVD had already told me. I turned back to Isobel. There was one more thing I needed to know—for me this time, not for Nick.

  “I heard that Nick got into some kind of argument with your mother. Is that true?”

  Isobel nodded.

  “Grandpa was really upset about that too,” she said. “Nick came over to the house after he got out on bail the first time. Grandpa had just got home from the hospital. My mom was here with him. Nick said he wanted to talk to him, but my mom wouldn’t let him in the house. She told him to go away, but he barged into the house anyway. When she tried to stop him, he hit her.”

  My heart sank. Nick sometimes had trouble controlling his temper, but he’d made a lot of progress with that. I didn’t want to believe that he would hit anyone, let alone Mr. Schuster’s daughter-in-law. I wished I understood what was going on with him. I wished there was something I could do to make all this trouble go away.

  “My mom said he only left when she called 9-1-1,” Isobel continued. “The police arrested him again.”

  I pulled a notebook and pen out of my backpack and scribbled down my cell phone number.

  “If you need any help with Orion, call me,” I said. “I’d be glad to help.”

  As I walked to the bus stop, I thought about Nick. Should I try to see him again? Could I bear to after what he had said? What would I do if he came right out and told me that he and Beej had been seeing each other?

  Beej.

  She was worried about Nick. She was afraid he wasn’t going to put up a fight and, much as I hated to agree with her on anything, it looked like she was right: Nick seemed to take it for granted that everyone believed the worst of him. Despite that, Beej was determined to help him. And for that she needed me. She wasn’t allowed to see Nick, but I was. She couldn’t get near Mr. Schuster’s house, but I could. She believed Nick when he said he didn’t do it. The least I could do was keep an open mind. As for Nick and Beej—if they ended up together, well, maybe that was meant to be. Maybe Nick was right about us. Maybe we were too different from each other. But that didn’t mean I didn’t care.

  “. . .Mars. . .,” Ben said. At least, that’s what I heard.

  “Mars?” I said.

  Ben gave me a look. “March—not Mars. You’re not even listening.”

  “I’m sorry. I was thinking about something else.”

  “It sounds like that project you and Morgan are working on is taking over your brain. Or is there something else on your mind?”

  “My teachers are really piling on the homework,” I said. “I guess I’m just feeling pressured. What were you saying?”

  I felt bad lying to him, but it would have been worse if I’d told him the truth. A guy who considers himself your boyfriend does not want to know that while you’re with him, you’re thinking about another guy—especially an ex-boyfriend. But that’s what I had been doing.

  “I was saying that we should start making plans for March. One more week of school, and we’re sprung for a whole week.”

  Originally, we were supposed to spend spring break at his family’s cabin with Morgan and Billy. Morgan had been looking forward to it—especially after she heard that he had a hot tub. But a massive storm at the end of February had toppled a lot of trees up north. Two enormous ones had fallen on Ben’s family’s place. So we were city-bound.

  “We could do some day trips,” Ben said. “Cross-country skiing—or downhill, if you like—hiking . . . What do you say?”

  My cell phone trilled. I checked the display: “Schuster, M.” It couldn’t be Mr. Schuster. I guessed Isobel. I was right.

  “Can you come over here tomorrow?” she said.

  “What for?”

  “My dad wants to meet you.”

  “He does?”

  “Grandpa really enjoyed your visit,” she said. “I suggested that my dad hire you to walk Orion. Grandpa liked the idea. But my dad wants to check you out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s like that. He ran a check on Nick.”

  “He did?”

  “That’s how he found out that he’d been in trouble with the police. That’s why he fired him. You hav
en’t been in any trouble, have you, Robyn?”

  I thought about a nasty little accident that had occurred during one of Billy’s animal rights demonstrations last summer. I ended up under arrest, but my mom managed to get the charges dropped—in exchange for my doing community service at the animal shelter where I’d met Nick and Mr. Schuster.

  “Nothing your dad would worry about,” I told Isobel. I didn’t tell her that I wasn’t sure I wanted the job.

  “There’s just one thing,” she said. “It’s probably not a good idea to tell my dad that you know Nick. In fact, it’s probably not a good idea to mention it to anyone in my family. If Dad thinks you know Nick, he won’t hire you. Okay?”

  I hesitated. A picture forming in my mind, one that explained how Nick had ended up in so much trouble:

  Mr. Schuster has a stroke. When his family shows up at the house—surprise!—they find Nick camped out on the couch. They talk to Mr. Schuster, though, and at first they go along with his wishes. Elliot hires Nick to look after Orion. But when he finds out about Nick’s record, he does what a lot of people would do in his position—he fires Nick, cutting him off from his beloved Orion.

  To the rest of the world, this might seem understandable. But it wouldn’t be understandable to Nick. What if he’d reacted the way he’d done so many times in the past? What if he flew into a rage? What if he really did take those coins, because he was lashing out? What if he’d gone back to the house afterward to explain and had ended up lashing out again, at Mr. Schuster’s daughter-in-law? But then why had he asked me to tell Mr. Schuster that he hadn’t done it? Was he too ashamed to tell the truth? That would explain why he wasn’t doing anything to help himself. He was ready to take whatever punishment some judge would give him.

  I could see Nick’s aunt and Glen believing that was what had happened. I could see the cops believing it. I could see Elliot Schuster believing it. But after my brief visit today, I couldn’t see Mr. Schuster believing it—not the stealing part, anyway.

  Suppose Nick hadn’t stolen those coins? Suppose he’d been falsely accused and had wanted to explain that to Mr. Schuster, but Claudia Schuster had blocked him? Maybe he’d tried to get past her and things had got out of hand. That didn’t excuse the assault, but it did explain it. It also meant that no matter what, Nick was in trouble.

  “Robyn?” Isobel said. “Is it okay? Can you come over?”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll be there tomorrow after school.”

  “Be where?” Ben said after I’d finished the call and dropped my cell phone into my backpack.

  “A friend of the family had a stroke,” I said. “I offered to help around the house.”

  “I’ll go with you if you want,” Ben said. “Two can get twice as much done as one.”

  That was Ben. Kind, considerate, always ready to lend a hand—all the qualities that had attracted me to him in the first place. And how was I repaying him?

  By lying to him, that’s how.

  CHAPTER SIX

  A

  tall, thin man answered Mr. Schuster’s door the next afternoon. He had the same long nose as Mr. Schuster and the same hazel eyes.

  “You must be Robyn,” he said. “I’m Elliot Schuster. Come in.”

  He hung up my coat while I pulled off my boots.

  “Let’s go in here.” He gestured to Mr. Schuster’s den. “Forgive the mess.” A laptop computer sat open on the desk. Every available surface was piled high with paper. “I’m basically running my business from here until we see what sort of recovery my father is going to make. Please, have a seat.”

  I sat down in a chair facing the desk.

  “Isobel tells me that you know my father from the animal shelter,” Elliot said.

  “That’s right. I met him last summer when I volunteered there.”

  “She also tells me that you’re acquainted with that beast of his.”

  “I know Orion looks scary,” I said. “But he’s actually well-behaved.” For Nick, at least.

  “Try telling that to my wife. He bit her the day we arrived, and since then he’s done nothing but bark and growl. The children are terrified of him. I don’t know why my father would adopt such a creature.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “But he feels strongly about the animal, and I’m not inclined to jeopardize his recovery by getting rid of the dog—unless I’m forced to. Isobel says you’re good with him?”

  “Well, I—”

  “I need someone to walk him. I could hire a professional walker, but they usually take charge of half a dozen or more dogs at a time. My father’s needs are more specific. He wants to be able to visit with his dog. He’s making a good physical recovery, but he isn’t strong enough to handle it on his own and he can’t give it voice commands. To be honest, I’m not even sure how well my father understands what’s going on.”

  I was surprised to hear him say that. Mr. Schuster had seemed to understand everything when I had visited.

  “In any case, I can’t have that animal running free in the house,” he continued. “I need someone who can control him while he’s with my father. I would pay you for your time, of course.”

  I had thought about my answer all night. I’d seen how grateful Mr. Schuster was to see Orion and how thrilled poor Orion had been to finally get out of the basement and visit his master. And looking after Orion would give me a chance to try to figure out exactly what had happened. I handed Elliot an envelope.

  “What’s this?” he said.

  “Isobel told me why you wanted to see me, so I put together a résumé,” I said.

  He opened the envelope and unfolded the sheets of paper inside. The first contained my name, address, and phone number; the academic awards I had won; the volunteering I had done—anything I could think of that would show him how reliable and responsible I was. On the second sheet were my parents’ names, occupations, and phone numbers, and the names of some people who could say something nice about me: a teacher, my school principal, and Morgan’s parents. Elliot looked impressed.

  “After you talk to my references, if you want to hire me, I can start tomorrow,” I said.

  “Actually, I was hoping you could start right now,” he said. “That dog hasn’t been walked in days. Even I feel sorry for it.”

  There was a boy in the front hall when I emerged from Mr. Schuster’s den. He looked eerily like Isobel. He even seemed to be the same age. He regarded me with keen interest.

  “Connor, this is Robyn,” Elliot Schuster said. “I’ve just hired her to walk Grandpa’s dog.” To me, he said, “Connor is my son. He and Isobel are twins.”

  I said hello. Connor murmured a greeting in response. But when he saw me head for the basement door, he retreated into the living room and closed the French doors behind him. He was still there when I brought Orion up from the basement. I held tightly to Orion’s leash, unsure how he would react in the presence of two clearly nervous people.

  “Sit,” I told the big dog. Instead of obeying me instantly, the way he had the day before, he started to bark.

  “Orion, sit,” I said again. He kept right on barking. My cheeks burned. Isobel had told her father that I could handle Orion. I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t. I tried to remember what Nick did whenever Orion became too excited to pay attention. I gripped the leash closer to Orion’s collar. “Sit,” I said again, in a firmer tone this time.

  Mercifully, it worked. Orion dropped his rear end to the floor.

  “Good boy,” I said. I was so grateful that I felt like hugging him. “Stay,” I said. I wound the leash around my wrist. Connor watched me from the other side of the glass doors. Elliot backed up a few paces. But Orion sat quietly and watched me pull on my boots.

  “Connor,” Elliot called to his son. “Go and get the dog’s booties.”

  “Booties?” I said.

  “My father takes good care of his animals,” Elliot said. “He always has. The booties protect the dog’s paws from all the salt they throw on the s
idewalks.” He looked at Connor, who hadn’t moved. “Get a plastic bag too. There are some under the sink.”

  “Why can’t she get it herself?” Connor said, his voice muffled by the closed doors. “You’re paying her, aren’t you?”

  “Now, Connor.”

  Connor opened the doors slowly, as if he were afraid that any sudden move would set Orion off.

  “For heaven’s sake,” Elliot said. “Robyn has a good grip on the dog. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  Connor didn’t take his eyes off Orion for even a second as he inched out of the living room and ducked into the kitchen. He appeared in the doorway a few moments later and tossed me four dog booties and a balled-up plastic bag.

  “You can clean up the basement while the dog is out,” Elliot told him.

  Connor looked stricken at the thought. “But that dog’s been down there for days . . .”

  Yuck. I was glad I didn’t have to tackle that job.

  “Exactly,” Elliot said. “It’s about time someone cleaned up the mess.”

  “Aw, Dad—”

  “Never mind the ‘Aw, Dad.’ Just do it, Connor.”

  Orion must have known that the booties meant he was going for a walk because he offered his paws one by one so that I could put them on him. Elliot seemed impressed.

  “You really do handle him well,” he said.

  Orion was being so good that I started to feel almost cocky. Big mistake. The instant I opened the door, he dove through. I held fast to his leash as he dragged me across the porch, down the steps, and onto the front walk. For the first time in weeks, it started to snow.

  Orion was reasonably well behaved on our outing. He stopped once to do what dogs do when they get outside. I held my breath, closed my eyes, used the plastic bag to pick up after him, and added another item to the long list of reasons I didn’t want a dog of my own. I nearly suffered a dislocated shoulder when Orion spotted a squirrel and darted off after it. We stayed out for an hour. The snow kept coming down.

 

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