Gavin's Song: A Last Rider's Trilogy (Road to Salvation Book 1)

Home > Contemporary > Gavin's Song: A Last Rider's Trilogy (Road to Salvation Book 1) > Page 12
Gavin's Song: A Last Rider's Trilogy (Road to Salvation Book 1) Page 12

by Jamie Begley


  “I can imagine. I’ve only had to deal with Ginny for three months, and I’m at my wit’s end. She’s very troubled, Ross.”

  Under the principal’s judgmental gaze, Ginny had a better understanding of why Silas hated school. She hated it, too. The teachers were snooty, and the highlight of their day was to see how many children they could disparage as they walked past them in the halls.

  Ginny had lived most of her life on the mountain, living in a bubble of protection. Being taken out of that environment, she wasn’t dealing very well and didn’t know how to make it better. She felt like she was in freefall and didn’t have anything or anyone to stop it.

  “You’re an amazing woman, Lisa. I admire what you’re doing by bringing Ginny into your home.”

  Something about the tone of the principal’s voice had her frowning in confusion. Switching her gaze between the two of them, she was baffled at what it was.

  She watched the principal head toward his desk, pausing beside Lisa to lay a comforting hand on her back. If she hadn’t been studying them so closely, Ginny would have missed the way he slid his hand down to the small of her back. The lingering touch made Ginny uncomfortable, and she couldn’t explain why.

  Ginny stiffened in her chair at the look that passed between them. Innocently unaware of why it bothered her, she didn’t have time to wonder at it before the principal went behind his desk to stare at her aloofly.

  “What just took place outside cannot go unpunished, Ginny. I expect to be receiving phone calls once Calvin and Evan arrive home. I’m going to have tell them that I took action to stop your dangerous behavior from continuing.”

  Ginny pressed her lips together so tightly that the outside curled inward.

  “To do that, I feel the best thing to ensure your behavior is better under control is for you to stay in the detention room next to mine, where I’ll keep an eye on you throughout the entire day. I will escort you personally to your foster mother’s car in the afternoon, and if, at any time, I feel you have not learned the lesson about what behavior is expected of you, I will extend your punishment until it does. Do I make myself clear?”

  Ginny stared back unflinchingly at the censorship of their eyes. He was going to punish her?

  Ginny lowed her head so he wouldn’t see the hatred pouring out of her for his lack of care that Calvin and Evan were tormenting Moses. It wasn’t fair, but Ginny had already learned a lesson much harder than the principal thought he was going to teach her.

  Life wasn’t fair. It was like a river that was just there—no rhyme or reason. It didn’t have feelings, didn’t care that every living thing needed it to survive, yet it would share its wealth or be as stingy as a miser. It could turn on you indiscriminately, creating havoc at a moment’s notice, destroying lives and everything in its raging path. Exactly like the principal and her foster parents were trying to do to her.

  The principal used his authority to squeeze her into a plastic mold that had no substance, like Lisa and Dalt. Pretty on the outside and hollow on the inside.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re lucky, Ginny. Mr. Henderson could have expelled you for your behavior.”

  Ginny cringed at the look Lisa gave her principal.

  Seeing that she was watching them, his expression became even more foreboding, silently giving her a warning that she was unable to understand. “Get your backpack. I promise you, Mr. Henderson, her punishment will extend at home. I’m looking forward to working with you to get Ginny on track where she will be able to overcome a background that, I think both of us would say, has been sadly lacking in social graces.”

  Ginny didn’t give Lisa the satisfaction of letting her see her wince when her hand went to Ginny’s shoulder, biting her nails into her skin. Reaching down for her backpack, she was relieved when Lisa released her shoulder to shake Mr. Henderson’s hand.

  Following her foster mother from the office, Ginny knew that her polite attitude would change as soon she was alone with her. To her surprise, though, Lisa didn’t say anything to her once they were in the car, nor did she when they walked in the door of the house.

  “Go to your room and get started on your homework. Pastor Dean is free this evening and wants to begin your tutoring sessions.”

  Her stomach rumbled as she went up the steps. She was gradually learning to ignore the hunger pangs that she never had to deal with before. The kitchen was another room she was not allowed into. If she was hungry, then she would have to wait until mealtime. She was allowed to keep a glass to fill from the bathroom faucet in her room, but if Lisa came inside, as she periodically did during the day when she was home, and the glass wasn’t sitting on a coaster, she would take it. It had taken her being without for three days to ingrain that habit into her.

  Taking her books out of her backpack, she started doing the homework that she hadn’t been able to finish during the day. No sooner had she started, Lisa came in to tell her it was time to go. She hadn’t even been able to start the work that needed to be completed at home. Despite how hard she tried, she was falling further behind.

  Had Silas felt so sorry for her and checked her answers right even when they were wrong? Was Lisa right? Was she stupid? Her family had always made her feel like she was smart. Had it all been a lie to keep her from realizing the truth?

  Ginny stared out the window as they drove the short distance to the church. Lisa made no attempt to talk to her unless she did something she didn’t like.

  Pulling into the parking, Lisa stopped the car. Instead of getting out like Ginny expected, her foster mother rolled the window down before using the mirror to reapply her lipstick.

  “Do you need to come inside with me?”

  “No. Pastor Dean will call me when you’re done. Wait inside the church doors until you see my car.”

  Nodding, she walked toward the church.

  The building was silent when she entered. The large cross on the wall behind the pulpit facing her was the first thing she saw. The empty pews were arranged row after row with a center aisle in the middle. The peaceful atmosphere loosened the tight knot in her chest that she’d been unaware of. The memories of sitting in the third pew from the pulpit brought back memories of sitting there every Sunday with Papa Will.

  Tears built in her eyes. She hadn’t talked to him after he had taken her from her brothers.

  Making a left, she headed toward Pastor Dean’s office. The door was open. Drawing closer, she saw the pastor sitting behind his desk.

  Seeing her at the door, the pastor gave her a welcoming smile. “Come in, Ginny. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Pastor,” Ginny greeted him back.

  “Don’t look so apprehensive. I don’t bite.”

  Ginny forced a smile to her lips, dreading him finding out how stupid she was.

  The pastor was younger than the one before him. Plus, he was much nicer. Even her dad had said that Pastor Dean made him want to go to church again. He hadn’t, though he had stayed outside during services, saying each time he would give a try the following week. That Sunday had never come, and it never would.

  “Set your books down on my desk and pull up a chair. We’ll get started.”

  Doing as he asked, Ginny placed her books on the desk. Dragging the chair from the front of the desk and to the side beside him, she then sat down.

  Pastor Dean looked at the books she brought with a raised brow. “You have homework in all the subjects?”

  Flushing, she started fidgeting in the chair. It wasn’t going to take him long to find out how stupid she was. “Yes, Pastor.”

  “Which one is giving you the most trouble?”

  Ginny reached for her math book, moving it to the top of the stack.

  “Math is my best subject. What chapter?”

  Ginny opened the book to the chapter she had been attempting to work on.

  “You’re only on chapter three?”

  Turning red, she stared fixedly down at the page, praying sh
e had miraculously learned how to work the problems on the drive to church. She hadn’t, and now both God and the pastor knew how stupid she was.

  “I’m behind.”

  “Then let’s catch you up.” Encouragingly, he asked which problem she was working on.

  Taking a handout from her homework folder, she handed it to him. Expecting the pastor to immediately begin telling her how to work the problem, Ginny took a pencil out of her bag. When he set the paper down on his desk and just stared at it with a frown, Ginny wondered if he was having as much trouble with it as she.

  “Do you have any of your math papers with you?”

  She opened her notebook to the section that she used for math, and the pastor pulled out the papers that had been graded. He gave a quick glance when he saw the red mark at the top of each of them before returning to the checked papers. It was several minutes before he raised his head again.

  “I know I’m stupid,” she said miserably, cutting him off before he could tell her what she had already been told.

  His frown grew deeper. “Who told you that you’re stupid?”

  At the sight at his building anger, Ginny hastily retreated into her shell where no one could pry information out of her if she didn’t want to tell.

  “No one. I don’t need anyone tell me what I already know,” she said mutinously.

  His expression turned kind. “You’re not stupid, Ginny; you’re dyslexic.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It means that numbers and letters look different to you than they do to me.”

  “Does that mean I need glasses?”

  “No, glasses correct vision. It can’t help the way your brain is seeing the information. Once you’re taught a different way to look at letters and numbers, you should be able to catch up. Your teacher should have caught this when she graded your papers and helped you instead of using that red pencil so much. She didn’t even bother to show you how to work the problems you got wrong. Do you have a clean piece of paper I can use?”

  Ginny ripped a piece of paper out of her notebook and gave it to him. As she did, the pastor flipped through the rest of her notebook, turning to her reading section.

  “Are you behind in your other subjects?”

  “No, I’m catching up. I had to stop doing my math homework first and do it last. I get done quicker with those subjects, but I can’t catch up on math.”

  “Dyslexia can affect children in different areas. It could be just math that you need help with. I have no training to teach you, but I’ll work with you until someone at the school is assigned to you.”

  Laying the paper on the desk, he started working the first problem on the sheet, showing her how he got the answer.

  “You can try to do the next one by yourself.”

  Concentrating on the numbers in the problem, she worked on the problem the way the pastor had shown her. When she looked up, she saw him frowning again.

  “What did I do wrong?”

  “I don’t understand. I don’t think you are dyslexic. There’s nothing wrong with the way you worked this one.” Taking one of the already checked homework sheets, he pointed to a problem on it. “This is the same problem here. You switched the nine and six, and you switched the second and third steps. Did your teacher show you how to work the problem this way?”

  “No, the teacher didn’t show me how to work it. She just put the number of the handout for us to work on.”

  “Then how did you learn how to do it?”

  “I learned how to do problems like this when my dad homeschooled me. Dad wasn’t good at math, so he had Silas teach us. He’s really smart,” she bragged about her brother despite still being mad at him.

  The pastor stared at her thoughtfully before pointing to another problem. “Work this problem the way I showed you, not the way Silas taught you.”

  Focusing on the problem, she worked on it the way Pastor Dean had shown her. When she finished, she slid the paper back to him.

  “Ginny …?”

  “Yes, Pastor?”

  “You’re not stupid. In fact, I think you’re smarter than you and your teacher give you credit for.”

  “You think so?” His compliment was the first ray of sunshine she had felt since her dad and Leah died.

  “Yes, I do. I’ll talk to Mrs. West when I call her after we’re finished and ask her permission for me to stop by the school tomorrow and come up with a plan to catch you up with your classmates.”

  The ray of sunshine spread to her eyes. “You’d do that for me?”

  “I will on one condition.”

  She didn’t care what he wanted as long as it got Lisa and her teacher off her back. If the teacher kept calling Lisa to complain, she would call social services on her brothers. She was miserable enough without worrying about them being just as miserable if they were taken away from Silas.

  “Anything,” she promised fervently.

  “Good. Then I expect to see you in church this Sunday.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “She’s on her way.”

  Ginny nodded as she zipped up her backpack. “Thank you.” Rising to her feet, she slung her backpack onto her shoulder. “I’ll wait by the door.”

  “Stay by the door. I have to get changed. A parishioner is in the hospital, and they texted me, asking me to come. I’ll keep you company until she gets here if you’re still here when I’m finished changing.”

  Instead of moving away, she stood, looking at the pastor and trying to find the right way to thank him for showing her that she wasn’t as stupid as everyone thought she was without making herself seem lame. Coming up blank, she gave up, going to the door.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Flushing that her pastor understood what she had been trying to say, Ginny hurried to the front door. The last thing she wanted to do was keep Lisa waiting.

  She had been on pins and needles about keeping her happy since their talk. She had blown it this afternoon, and she was terrified about what she would do if she made her angry twice in the same day. The strange thing was that Lisa hadn’t seemed upset. She seemed in a good mood when she had dropped her off while texting someone on her phone.

  The parking lot remained still as she practically pressed her face against the door to look out. The silence in the church was eerie. The dim lighting left areas in the church encased in shadows, creating an otherworldly effect that had her shivering at the sudden wave of cold air that hit her, sending goose bumps up her arms.

  Swallowing down a lump of fear, Ginny froze, feeling silly to be afraid in a church. Then, hearing a sound from the front of the church, she spun around.

  Her heart nearly stopped when she saw a shadow pass in front of the cross. She placed her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming in terror. Frightened, she wanted to run to the pastor’s office to lock herself inside. However, incomprehensibly, she didn’t. Instead, she took a step forward, walking up the aisle toward the pulpit.

  No one was there.

  She could have sworn she had seen someone.

  It had been surreal. The way she thought the shadow passed in front of the cross, it looked to have wings.

  Shaken, she tried to take another step forward. Feeling like her knees couldn’t support her weight, she grabbed the side of a pew to steady herself.

  “Is someone there?” she called out, promising herself never to watch another scary movie for the rest of her life.

  The church was so silent she would be able to hear any sound, but she didn’t hear anything. Shaking her head at herself, Ginny headed back toward the door, feeling foolish. As she did, she realized the pastor’s door had closed. Taking a step in that direction, she gave a small scream when the main church door swung open, making her drop her backpack.

  “What is taking you so long?” Lisa snapped when she saw her.

  “Sorry,” Ginny muttered, bending down to pick up the backpack. “I won’t be a minute. I’ll tell Pastor Dean I’m leaving.”
/>
  The closed door was silently calling for her to open it, propelling her feet forward like a strong magnet without her direction.

  “Now! I don’t have all night. I’ll text him when we get in the car.”

  Ginny reluctantly hurried to the door that Lisa was holding open.

  “Next time, you can walk home.”

  Ginny didn’t argue as she got in the back seat, her mind still on the church. Buckling her seatbelt without taking her eyes off the church, she wanted to run back inside.

  As Lisa pulled the car onto the road, she unzipped her backpack, making sure she had all her books and notebooks while trying to explain to herself why she felt as if she had left something important behind.

  Three minutes later, Ginny was getting out of the car and heading inside the house. The living room wasn’t empty; Dalt was watching television. Ginny saw the square glass sitting on the end table next to him without a coaster underneath. It was everything Ginny could do not to remark on it.

  “How’d it go?” he asked conversationally as she started up the steps.

  Her foster father tried to be friendlier toward her than Lisa was, but she had grown to dislike him even more than her foster mom. The problem was that the Wests really didn’t do anything that she could tell on them for. Were they nice? Did they provide a home like the ones she was used to? No. Maybe with a younger child they would be able to bond with them better than they had with her. She didn’t know. She just kept hoping that one day she would open the door and Silas would be there to take her home where she belonged.

  “Good. The pastor helped me a lot. He said that—”

  Ginny could tell he wasn’t even listening. Lisa had gone to the couch to curl up next to her husband.

  She left them alone, going upstairs where she took a shower and got ready for bed. Turning the light off, she lay down and stared up at the ceiling. Unable to sleep, though, she was about to turn her light back on and read a book when she heard her doorknob rattling.

 

‹ Prev