by Anne Schraff
“Uh, that’s good,” Jaris commented.
“Yeah, I think so,” Sereeta’s mother said.
“So, Jaris,” Mom instructed him, “if I don’t get home by dinnertime, maybe your father will make something or else there’s plenty of frozen dinners.” Mom grabbed her purse and headed for the door with Mrs. Manley at her side.
Chelsea waited until they were gone, then she said to Jaris, “Some of the kids at middle school got brothers and sisters at Tubman, and they were talking about her and the trouble she had.”
“Yeah, well,” Jaris replied, “maybe being with our mom will be good for her. It seems she was doing better in the old days when they were friends.”
“Is Sereeta okay?” Chelsea asked.
“Yeah, she’s hanging in there, chili pepper,” Jaris told her.
“Did they ever find the car wash money?” Chelsea asked.
“No,” Jaris answered, as he dropped his books on the end table. Then he saw the letter on the table. It was addressed to him in a girl’s handwriting. “What’s this?” he asked Chelsea, holding up the envelope.
“I don’t know, Jare,” Chelsea giggled. “Maybe you got a secret admirer.”
Jaris tore the envelope open and took out the letter.
Dear Jaris, I know you care about Sereeta and she’s being blamed for the missing car wash money. I think you should know something. Quincy Pierce was once arrested for stealing money from a cash register where he used to work. We don’t know each other very well but kind of got to know each other on that camping trip we all went on. I know Sereeta is a good person and wouldn’t steal anything. I don’t want her blamed for something she didn’t do. I guess I should have said this face-to-face, but I just couldn’t. Please don’t say who told you this. Destini
“What’s it say?” Chelsea asked. “Is she a secret admirer, Jare?”
“No, it’s just something about school,” Jaris said. “It’s not important.”
“But it is important,” Jaris thought.
If Quincy Pierce had stolen money from his job, he’d be a good suspect for the theft from the car wash cash box. He might have easily stepped alongside his mother and taken the cash. She wouldn’t be watching her own son.
Jaris felt sorry for Mrs. Pierce and all her troubles, but he had to get to the truth.
After school on Monday, Jaris spotted Quincy walking to the bus stop. “Hey man, got a minute?” Jaris called out.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to miss my bus,” Quincy called back. “I’m starting a new job tonight.”
“It’ll just take a minute, man,” Jaris said. “You know they’re still wondering about who took that car wash money.”
Quincy seemed uneasy. “I gotta go,” he groaned. “I’ll miss the bus.”
“The bus doesn’t come for five more minutes, Quincy,” Jaris told him. “I want to ask you something. You ever busted for stealing money from a cash box?”
Quincy’s eyes widened and his mouth twitched. “Where’d you hear that?” he asked.
“Somebody told me. Somebody who didn’t want Sereeta to get blamed for something she didn’t do,” Jaris replied.
“Well . . . yeah, okay,” Quincy admitted. “I ain’t denying it. I worked at a restaurant a long time ago, and I took a little money from the till. The guy who owned the place made a big deal of it. He called the cops and I got busted. But it was my first offense, so I got probation.”
“A long time ago?” Jaris asked. “You’re sixteen now, man.”
“Okay, so it was last year. So what?” Quincy protested. “Look, it has nothing to do with the car wash money. I got nothing to do with that.”
“You were pretty anxious to throw the blame on Sereeta,” Jaris pressed.
“I’m sorry for that. I just was worried about my mom,” Quincy said. “Mom is going through hell with all those bill collectors. She don’t need no more grief, dude. Just get off my back, okay? The bus is coming. I didn’t take no freakin’ money. Your girlfriend is going to be okay. Everybody’s forgetting about the car wash money. Just let it go, man.” There was desperation in Quincy’s voice.
When Quincy got on the bus, Jaris turned to go and saw Destini standing nearby.
“Hi!” she said. “What did he say about it? About being arrested for robbing his boss?”
“He admitted it,” Jaris told her. “But he said he didn’t take the car wash money. . . . You’re Destini, right? I’ve seen you hanging out with Derrick.”
“Yeah,” Destini explained. “I belong to the church club that helps foster kids. That’s where I met you and Sereeta.” Jaris remembered her now. “Sereeta, she’s really cool,” Destini went on. “She’s got a lot of heart. It burned me up when they were talking trash about her. I got nothing against Quincy. He’s not a bad guy. But I found out he had a record and I thought maybe you should know. Quincy’s mom and my mom work at the same hospital. Mrs. Pierce is a hard-luck lady. I feel sorry for them. But, you know, I don’t want Sereeta blamed when she didn’t do anything. I wanted to do the right thing. But I just couldn’t get the courage to come up to you in person. And I didn’t want word getting back to Quincy and his mom.”
“Well, thank you for telling me,” Jaris said gratefully.
“Please don’t ever tell Quincy I ratted him out. I don’t want any trouble, okay?” Destini pleaded.
“You got my word, girl,” Jaris assured her. He watched Destini walk away. She seemed to be cautious around guys for some reason. Jaris figured she must have had a bad experience in her life with a boy and now she was gun-shy.
Jaris didn’t know what to do with the information he had on Quincy. The guy screwed up last year, but that didn’t mean he took the car wash money. Jaris hated the idea of never letting people forget their past. Still, Jaris didn’t know where to go from here.
CHAPTER NINE
On the next day—Friday—around lunchtime at Tubman, Alonee pointed and said, “Look, Jaris. Isn’t that Jasmine’s parents going into the principal’s office? I’ve never seen them coming around except at open house or something.”
“Yeah,” Jaris said, looking at the slim, attractive woman in an ivory-colored suit, and her equally trim and athletic husband. “I wonder what important business brings them here in the middle of the day. He must have taken time off from work.”
Alonee laughed. “Maybe Jasmine got in another catfight with somebody, and the school called them in,” she suggested. “I saw Jasmine this morning, and she seemed worried about something.”
“You know, Jaris,” Trevor added, “my mom goes to church with one of the ladies who work in the school office. Maybe this has nothing to do with them showing up, but Jasmine’s mom has been sending emails back and forth with the PE department about the figures she turned in for the car wash. My mom’s friend said they came across some mistakes that were made. Maybe it’s nothing but . . .”
“Oh yeah?” Jaris responded with interest. “Jasmine has been making fun of Mrs. Pierce, saying she was too stupid to take care of the money at the car wash. Wouldn’t it be something if it was Jasmine’s mom who messed up?”
They all went to their classes then, and Jaris didn’t think any more about it until he got to English class. Jasmine was in an animated discussion with several students about air-conditioning units.
“That’s great, Jaz,” one of the girls said. “It’s really miserable in some of those classrooms with the old air conditioners. I mean they just don’t work hard enough to cool the rooms on really hot days.”
“Yeah,” Jasmine affirmed. “My parents want to help Tubman High, so they’re making a donation to get the air conditioners up-to-date in those rooms. This is my school after all. It’ll be my alma mater. My parents are proud of Tubman and proud of me for doing so good.”
“I saw your mom and dad going in the principal’s office this morning,” Jaris remarked.
“So what?” Jasmine asked sharply. “What business is it of yours if my parents are talking to the principal? You t
ell me that.” Jasmine sounded defensive.
“I was just going to say—” Jaris started again.
“It’s none of your business, Jaris Spain,” Jasmine snapped. “You like to stick your nose in everything, but there’s plenty you don’t know about, and you got no business knowing. My parents are really good people, and they’re respected by everybody in the community.”
Jaris couldn’t believe how defensive Jasmine was being. Now he was really suspicious. Maybe Trevor’s mom was on to something—that Jasmine’s mother was the one responsible for the missing two hundred dollars.
After school, Trevor talked to Jaris again. “Man, you know what I’m hearing? Jasmine’s mom took the first shift at the car wash that Saturday, right? She kept tabs on the money that was turned in. Well, Jasmine’s mom turned the cash box over to Mrs. Pierce and wrote down that there was four hundred and two dollars in the box. But Mrs. Pierce said there was two hundred and four dollars. Every time a car was washed, the kid taking the money from the car driver wrote up a slip. When the cheerleading coach and phys ed coach added up all the slips, they found out there was just two hundred and four dollars worth of car washes when Jasmine’s mom went off duty.”
“So Jasmine’s mom mixed up the numbers,” Jaris said.
Alonee joined the discussion. “Wow! All the abuse that Marko Lane has been heaping on Mrs. Pierce . . . all the crummy accusations against Sereeta. And maybe it all comes down to Jasmine’s mom making an honest mistake?”
“Yeah,” Jaris commented, “but can you see the school coming out and saying this whole mess was the result of even an easy mistake by this high-class lady—Lee Ann Benson?” Jaris posed a little dramatically as he said the name.
“So what happens?” Alonee asked. “A big coverup?”
“I think it has to do with air conditioners,” Trevor suggested. “They’ll invent this lie to explain the error. To save Mrs. Benson’s reputation, the Bensons are donating new air-conditioning equipment to the school. Don’t you see? It’s a win-win situation. Jasmine’s mom, the elegant Lee Ann Benson, comes off smelling like a rose. The school gets some free stuff, which is great at a time when they’re axing school budgets all over town.”
“And nobody will know what happened?” Jaris fumed. “A big cloud of mystery will continue to hang over the missing money?”
“We’ll see,” Trevor said.
In the morning they had their answer.
The principal made an announcement over the PA system:
Good morning, students. After an exhaustive examination of the cheerleader car wash receipts, we have discovered that a computer accounting error was made. The missing two hundred dollars was on paper, but never existed in reality. We regret this error and the distress it caused for so many of our students. We especially regret that the incident reflected on the honesty of so many good people when nothing wrong had taken place. In a gracious effort to turn this unfortunate event into a positive one, two of our hardworking parents, Lee Ann and Clyde Benson, parents of Tubman High junior Jasmine Benson, are donating money to renew the air-conditioning units in several of our classrooms, and for this we wish to thank them.
“Computer error! What a crock!” Jaris snarled when he and his friends gathered at the beverage machine. “Jasmine’s mother screwed up, and she and her husband turn out the heroes.”
“Yeah,” Trevor agreed, “she made a rookie mistake, calling two hundred and four, four hundred and two. And Mrs. Pierce and Sereeta had to take the heat for it. And Jasmine’s mom isn’t even standing up and saying she’s sorry.”
“They’re big shots,” Alonee noted. “That’s how big shots get through life. No use in griping about it. When little guys mess up, there’s the devil to pay. When big shots mess up, everybody wants to smooth it over.”
“Well,” Jaris added, “at least the heat’s off Sereeta and the Pierces. That’s something.”
All that day, the school buzzed with talk about the missing money and the donation.
Jasmine was very quiet in her afternoon classes. She sensed a lot of suspicion about the connection between her parents’ donation and the mixup with the car wash money. Many of the kids were putting two and two together.
Between classes, Quincy approached her. “So I guess your mom messed up the till, not mine,” he said bitterly. “And your boyfriend was going around calling my mom stupid.”
“Where you get that?” Jasmine snarled. “That’s crazy. Has nothing to do with anything. My parents just wanted to do something nice for the school ’cause there’s been so much trouble and bad feelings. You oughta be thankful to them for doing it instead of thinking up stupid things.”
“Yeah, right,” Quincy remarked. “Your mom and dad just got the idea of making a donation when the school finally figured out there was an error at the car wash till.”
“The computer did it,” Jasmine snapped, “and if you don’t shut your mouth, Quincy Pierce, you’re going to have more trouble than you ever thought.”
Another girl overheard the conversation and laughed. “Sure, blame it on the computer. I’m just wondering if your mom didn’t rip off the cheerleaders, and now she’s making up for it with the air conditioners.”
“You take that back or I’ll rip your eyelashes out, girl,” Jasmine yelled.
Later, at lunch with Alonee and Destini, Sami Archer told them, “Good to see that trash-talking Jasmine off her high horse. She always so high and mighty. Now she gets to feel like some of the other kids when folks bad-mouth them. She always going on like her folks are better than my folks. She goes, ‘Oh, your daddy is a garbage collector. Well, I guess that somebody has to do dirty jobs like that, but I’m sure glad my father works in a nice office and wears a suit.’ ”
And the buzz continued even after the last bell. Jaris told his parents what happened at school. “The official word that they’re giving out is that some computer messed up the cheerleaders’ car wash totals. But there’s a lot of buzz that Jasmine’s mom transposed some numbers and started the whole mess. Now Jasmine’s parents are making a donation to the school, and I guess that means we’ll never get the whole story.”
“And that poor little girl—Sereeta—she had to go through all that garbage for no good reason,” Pop said in an angry voice. “Well, too bad for her. Too bad for that Pierce lady too. I wonder who’s giving them anything to make up for all that grief? Well, it is what it is, right? Like with me when I was a youngster thinking I was in line for a sports scholarship. Some bozo fouls me, crashes into me, and makes spaghetti out of my leg. But I’m a kid from the projects and he’s from a ritzy family, and he didn’t mean to foul me. Anyway, what’s the big deal? I wasn’t important. So what about my college dreams? I was a dumb kid from the projects, and I’d probably not been able to hack college anyway. So what’s the difference if the bozo messed me up?”
Mom rolled her eyes. Pop was at it again, linking any injustice he heard about with his own personal misfortune. Pop was in another bad mood. It had not gone well at Jackson’s. Too many beaters and not enough time. His back hurt. His feet hurt. His dreams of a better life were drifting farther and farther away, and he tore off the pages of the calendar. Though he ever really expected to reclaim his dream, it was rapidly getting too late even for fantasies.
“Speaking of Sereeta,” Mom interjected. “Olivia and I shopped for six hours. I’m telling you, I’m not as young as I was when we went on those shopping Saturdays years ago. I am worn out.”
“How’d it go with her?” Jaris asked. “She say anything about Sereeta?”
“Olivia hasn’t changed much,” Mom reported. “She loves to buy things whether she needs them or not. But that’s not the biggest problem. She’s so afraid of getting old. She’s thirty-five years old, and she keeps saying her best years are behind her. She has to make every year count because the clock is ticking. She fears turning forty because then she says she’ll be really old,” Mom said sadly.
“She and that je
rk she married get along any better?” Jaris asked, noticing that her mother had ignored his question about Sereeta. That worried him.
“Well,” Mom responded, “I’m afraid Perry doesn’t get along with Sereeta at all. He just doesn’t like that poor girl. I mean, of course Sereeta doesn’t like him either . . . but he’s forty-four you know, Perry is. He has had a couple of relationships, but no children until Jake. He’s a lot like Olivia in that he’s always worrying about aging, touching up the gray in his hair, that kind of thing. I think that having a beautiful young woman like Sereeta around reminds him that he’s married to a woman old enough to have a daughter who’s almost an adult . . . and that bothers him.”
Jaris listened closely. He hated Perry Manley already because he seemed never to have really tried to be a caring stepparent to Sereeta. He should have gone to see Sereeta in the play instead of demanding they go to a sports event. Jaris thought the man was a creep, and he wasn’t even half way trying to reach out to Sereeta. Some stepfathers really made an effort. Maybe it didn’t work out, but at least they made an effort.
Mom continued, the expression on her face darkening. “I think he’d like for Sereeta not to be there, Jaris,” Mom figured, obviously finding it difficult to say those words.
“Not to be there?” Jaris almost yelled. “What’s that mean, Mom?”
“Well, he talks about a boarding school or something for her,” Mom explained.
“She’s almost done with her junior year,” Jaris said, the anger building up inside him, like hot lava in a volcano. “We’ve all gone to school together for like twelve years. We’re friends. Me, Alonee, Sami, Trevor, Derrick, the whole gang of us. We’ve been tight since kindergarten. We grew up together in this neighborhood, and we want to be seniors together. We dreamed of being seniors together at Tubman High for all these years.”
“I understand, Jaris,” Mom agreed softly, her face pained. She had felt the same way when she was their age. She had grown up with a tight group of friends too. They had meant the world to her.