Devlin had been a puzzlement to her from the beginning. She was a little quirky and a little obstreperous, but otherwise hadn’t given Hennessy any trouble at all. She was in the poetry program, so Hennessy didn’t have much contact with her except around the bungalow. And even there she was usually in her room, writing. To Hennessy’s knowledge, she and Townsend were barely acquaintances—but something about their concurrent disappearances gave her pause.
She checked all of the usual spots, but neither of them turned up. It was only nine, and since it was Saturday night, they didn’t have a curfew. Quite a few of the kids stayed in the rec bungalow until midnight or one, watching videos and acting like typical adolescents. But Hennessy couldn’t rest until she found the pair.
Looking all around the compound, her worry grew until she was about to call security to help her search. She was headed back to Sandpiper when she saw movement by the boat dock.
Hilton Head was a mass of creeks, rivers, ponds, and marshes. Camp was located just off Calibogue Sound, a significant body of water that led to the ocean, but the camp bordered Broad Creek, a more manageable waterway. That’s where they kept a powerboat, seldom used, and secured under padlock to avoid having a camper harm herself. Suddenly the ancient engine coughed to life. Hennessy took off like a scalded cat, but she didn’t make it in time. When she reached the dock, all she saw under the light of the full moon was Townsend’s backpack, obviously left in haste. She picked it up and searched it, finding a set of tools wrapped in a soft leather case. She’d read enough detective novels to know what she held in her hands—a set of burglary tools, complete with files, a pry bar, and a lock pick.
The girls didn’t know they’d been spotted during their escape, and Hennessy plopped down on the end of the dock and called for reinforcements. Waiting for Destiny to arrive, she tried to remind herself to put this in context. She’d seen her daddy do the same kind of thing more times that she could count. Something set him off, then he was off to the races. You couldn’t always predict what it would be, but it was enough to make him throw away weeks, or even months, of sobriety over it. What Townsend had done that night was big. She’d admitted something that labeled her. She wasn’t just a girl who liked to party. She had a disease. A disease she had to cure herself of.
Hennessy knew she’d never truly understand what went on in an alcoholic’s head. No one could ever know what caused a person to slowly destroy herself. But you had to maintain some empathy, no matter how angry you got. Alcoholics had enough self-hatred. Adding more to the mix never helped.
Destiny arrived, panting from exertion. “Where are they?” she asked, her eyes wide with anxiety.
“Right there.” The moon was bright enough to catch the image of a small boat, bobbing in the creek. They’d gone inland, away from the sound, like they were trying to be safe. Hennessy was confident they were just letting off some steam—if they didn’t take off again and head for deep water. “I think she’s turned the motor off. They’re probably just talking.”
“Or drinking or smoking grass or shooting heroin.” Destiny sank heavily onto the dock, and dropped her face into her palm. “We should call the police. Or the…what?” She looked up. “Coast Guard?”
“The police can bring them in, but I don’t think we have to do that yet. If they don’t come toward shore, we’ll raise an alarm.”
“Why not now?”
“Because it’ll be a big damn deal,” Hennessy said. “We’ll have to get their parents involved and all sorts of stuff. Let’s give them fifteen minutes. They can’t get into too much trouble in fifteen minutes.”
Glumly, Destiny said, “Townsend could burn Atlanta in fifteen minutes. I wouldn’t trust her to watch over a sack full of shit.”
Hennessy couldn’t really argue with her, but she’d seen another side of Townsend. One she knew contained a sweet, tender soul, a sweetness Townsend worked hard to never reveal.
The boat sputtered to life ten minutes later and headed right back home. Relief flooded through Hennessy’s body, but her empathy had begun to abandon her as they waited. This was such a childish stunt. One that Townsend had to have known would land her in hot water. But when she was in a mood, she didn’t seem to have the ability to think of consequences—no matter how grave.
The boat slapped at the water as it got near the dock. As expected, Townsend had her hand on the motor, expertly steering them in. But Hennessy didn’t have time to admire her skill. Devlin was crying, looking up at Hennessy and Destiny in a panic.
“She made me go!” Devlin gasped out. “The whole thing was her idea, and then she…she…tried to rape me!”
Hennessy almost fell from the dock. If Destiny hadn’t been right next to her, she would have landed in the water and been sucked under the outboard.
“Liar!” Townsend shouted, so full of rage she was on the verge of slugging the other kid. “I told you what I wanted and you jumped right into the boat. I tried to go one tiny step further and all of a sudden I’m a rapist? You’re a big baby!”
“And you’re a big, dyke rapist!” Devlin scrambled from the boat and started to run.
“I’ll go get her,” Destiny said, leveling Townsend with a look. “Bring Townsend to Mary Ann’s. I’ll wait—a few minutes—to call the police.”
“Let’s go,” Hennessy growled, grabbing Townsend’s backpack. She started to walk, silently repeating calming words as she took deep, measured breaths.
“I didn’t hurt her!” Townsend insisted, grabbing at Hennessy’s shirt to slow her down.
“You’ll have the chance to make your case.” That was all she could manage. She didn’t have it in her to listen to a story at that minute.
“Make my case?” Townsend must have stopped, because her voice maintained every bit of outrage, but grew quieter.
Hennessy didn’t turn around. She was too angry. “Get your ass to the administration bungalow,” she growled. “Unless you want to tell your story to the police.”
There was just enough noise behind her to indicate Townsend was following along. It took ten long minutes to get close, and right before they reached the path that led to the bungalow Townsend put on a burst of speed and caught up. Her lungs still wouldn’t let her go far without panting, but she stood in front of Hennessy, the moonlight painting her face with a pale light that gave her a bluish cast. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she insisted, her hand gripping Hennessy’s arm hard.
It was still hard to look at her without wanting to take a swing. “You picked the lock on the motor. You stole Mary Ann’s personal boat. You did something that made Devlin feel violated.” Shaking her head in disgust, she pushed past Townsend and started to walk again. “You’ve got a lot of damned nerve to say you did nothing wrong.”
When she started to enter the building. Townsend was still standing right where she’d left her. She said just two words, but they were spoken in such a pain-filled, pleading voice that Hennessy thought she might remember them for the rest of her life: “Believe me,” she whimpered.
Stopping mid-step, Hennessy’s shoulders slumped and she leaned against the bungalow, trying to get her thoughts straight. After sucking in a breath, she walked back to Townsend who stood there in the clearing, her face showing hurt and confusion and just a little of the outrage that had lit her features earlier.
Hennessy put a hand on her shoulder and spoke carefully. “Given how you’ve lived in the last few years, I’m sure you don’t think you did anything wrong. But you did, Townsend. Now come inside and tell us what happened.”
“Will you believe me?” she asked, her voice shaking.
It was too dark to see her eyes clearly, but Hennessy could feel them boring into her, demanding an answer. “If you tell the truth, I’ll believe you.”
Whip-like, Townsend’s hand struck out to grab Hennessy’s arm and hang on. “I’ll never lie to you,” she promised.
For some reason, probably a bad one, Hennessy believed her. “Okay. Then let’s
get this over with.”
“I promise,” Townsend said again, her voice filled with fervor. “I’ll never lie.”
Mary Ann and Destiny were talking to Devlin in the office, leaving Townsend and Hennessy to sit in the usually comfortable main room. But tonight, the upholstery was scratchy and the furniture seemed big and heavy—almost foreboding.
There wasn’t much to talk about, given they were going to have to go over everything with Mary Ann and Destiny and maybe even the police. So they sat there, unspeaking, for an hour.
Finally, Destiny and Devlin walked out, both looking down as they crossed through the room. Mary Ann came out and sat in her usual chair. To Hennessy’s always perceptive gaze, she looked wrung-out. She wasn’t sure how much money Mary Ann made off the camp, if anything, but she bet there were days any amount of money wouldn’t have been worth it. Tonight looked like it might be one of those.
“Devlin’s going to apologize for what she accused you of,” Mary Ann said, gazing at Townsend.
Hennessy could see Townsend’s body start to relax and her own posture loosened up.
“You pushed her farther than she wanted to go, but she admitted you didn’t force her to do anything.” She leaned forward, her pale eyes locked on Townsend. “I need this camp to be a safe space for all of the girls. This isn’t the place to experiment with sex or drugs or alcohol.”
Townsend seemed to shrink, to physically become smaller as Mary Ann’s words settled upon her. “I’m not experimenting,” she grumbled. “I’m gay and I thought she was too.”
“Maybe she is,” Mary Ann said, her voice filled with empathy. “But she needs to figure that out when she’s at home.”
“I won’t touch her again.” Townsend’s arms were folded over her belly, her chin tilted down so it touched her sternum.
“Did you offer her drugs?” Mary Ann continued.
“No!” Leaping to her feet, Townsend’s cheeks were instantly aflame. “She asked me for drugs.”
“Did you give her any?”
“I did not,” she said, spitting out each word.
Mary Ann stood, then walked over to the window, gazing out at the moonlit trees. “All right. You can go back to your cabin now. Hennessy can decide what to do about the boat.”
They both got up, and Hennessy turned to meet Mary Ann’s encouraging gaze before they stepped out into the still, hot night. As they walked, Hennessy thought over exactly what Mary Ann had said. She hadn’t specifically asked if Townsend had drugs. She’d only established that none had been exchanged.
They were almost back at the cabin when Hennessy got to the point. “I’m going to call you on your promise to never lie.” They stopped, with Townsend’s gaze pointedly avoiding Hennessy’s. “Do you have drugs or alcohol in your room?”
It took her a few seconds to respond. Townsend’s eyes shifted to any point to avoid Hennessy’s probing look. “Devlin came to me. I never, ever offered her or any of those other children a damned thing.”
They entered the bungalow, the sitting room empty. Thinking she’d dodged a bullet, Hennessy cursed to herself when she saw Hailey lying on her bed, reading. “Hi,” Hennessy said when the kid looked up. “Would you mind if we were alone for a few minutes?”
Hailey looked like she wanted to ask what was going on, but she wasn’t the kind of kid to push. “Sure.” She got up, took her book and headed for the sitting room. Quietly, Hennessy closed the door. Then she got to work. With Townsend standing by mutely, she tore the room apart bit by bit. Hennessy touched every single item in the room, going to the point of tossing Townsend’s tampons out of the box and checking that each one was still sealed.
She was about to quit, but Townsend hadn’t complained—hadn’t voiced the slightest bit of anger or indignation. That wasn’t the mark of a kid who had nothing to hide.
Then it dawned on her. The largest hiding place was right in front of her—the box spring. Hennessy sat on the stripped bed, and when she saw a flicker of anxiety cross Townsend’s features she knew she’d hit the right button. Moving down the bed, she bounced and probed with her hands, finally hitting something hard. Staring at Townsend, who was staring right back, she took out her key ring and used the penknife she always carried to cut the damned thing open. A fifth of vodka was cradled between two springs, a bottle of Oxycontin lying next to it.
Hennessy met Townsend’s eyes, unable to see what emotion was lurking behind those pale green orbs. A dull quality had settled into them, draining all of the life out of her.
Dropping to her knees to further inspect, Hennessy saw that Townsend had sliced the material at the seam, then sewn it shut. How she’d done that, Hennessy would never know. Now she had drugs, alcohol and burglary tools in her hands. She gazed down on them for a minute, then left, unable to even look at Townsend.
Hennessy was barely at her own door before Townsend was at her back, saying quietly, “Let me talk to you.” Three campers were in the common room, all watching like a trio of very interested hawks.
“No.” Hennessy took out her key and unlocked the door. “I need to cool off to avoid saying something I’ll regret.” With that, she closed her door, clicking the lock sharply.
Humiliated, Townsend went back to her room, staring at the mess. It was like some very sloppy burglars had tossed the place, their uncaring hands touching every single thing that meant anything to her.
She bent and started to pick up the top mattress, but didn’t have the strength. Sick with worry, she dropped to the box spring, lying atop books, drawing pads, and pencils. The spiral wire from one of the pads dug into her back, but she didn’t move or push it away. Focusing on the pain, she hoped it would leave a mark—a scar—to remind her of the night she’d destroyed the trust of the only person who didn’t think she was a useless sack of shit.
The next morning, Hennessy found a hand written note that had been pushed under her door. Opening it, she read,
I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever said those words and meant them, but I mean them this time. I betrayed your trust, and that’s something I’ve never had from another soul. I’m so sorry for destroying it, Hennessy. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but please, please give me the chance.
I need to be here, I need to stay in AA, and, most of all, I need to be away from home to stay sober. Please, please don’t make me go back there. I’m begging you—for my life.
Townsend
Hennessy read the note three times, then went to Townsend’s door and knocked softly. Hailey was already up and gone, probably to flee the mess that still littered the room. For some odd reason, Townsend had slept on the bare box spring, the top mattress and everything from her dresser strewn around her.
Sitting on her haunches, Hennessy reached out and stroked Townsend’s hair, watching as the morning light caught the strands, glowing like spun-gold. “Townsend,” she whispered.
The sleepy eyes blinked open, and immediately began to fill with tears. “Don’t make me leave,” she sobbed, throwing her arms around Hennessy’s waist and nuzzling her head against her.
“Hey, hey, I’m not going to make you leave, June Bug. I told you that at the beginning, and I meant it. We’re stuck with each other for another month and a half.”
Looking up at her with tears running down her cheeks, she asked, “I don’t have to leave?”
“Of course not. As your punishment, you can’t use the rec bungalow for a week, though. No phone and no computer, either.”
“What about Devlin?” she asked, tilting her head suspiciously.
“Seven days. Both you and Devlin. Starting today. Now, let’s get this room cleaned up. Hailey must have thought you had a localized hurricane in here.”
“I did,” Townsend said quietly, getting up and moving over to the corner to start picking up clothes.
“I’m sorry I was so angry. I know you’ll have slips. Almost everyone does. But I lost it when I found the liquor and the pills. Knowing you’ve been lying about
your sobriety…” She sank to the mattress and started to cry, unable to stop the tears. She’d been fooled so many times, by so many people who mattered to her. It was so fucking hard to try again, to force herself to trust people who were so damned untrustworthy.
“I haven’t been lying.” Townsend’s voice was soft but firm. “You can count the pills. The number on the bottle is exactly how many are in there. And the seal’s still on the vodka. I just needed them for…” She swallowed. “Insurance.”
Her heart started to race, hope growing. Hennessy grasped her chin and looked into her red-rimmed eyes. “No, you don’t. You’ve got all the insurance you need in here,” she tapped the blonde head, “and here.” Gently, she thumped the skin over Townsend’s heart. “There isn’t anything in the world having alcohol in your room will do except drive you deeper into your disease. It’ll guarantee you won’t stay sober when times are tough.”
“I feel so…alone without it,” she whispered, dropping down right next to Hennessy. She leaned against her, so thin she was light as a feather. “When things were really hard, I could tell myself if they got worse I could have a drink. Now what do I have?”
“You have your own strong spirit, and my complete support,” Hennessy pledged, wrapping Townsend in a hug. She knew she shouldn’t show how much she cared, but she couldn’t help herself. Townsend had gotten under her skin, and she had to face the fact that she was becoming as powerless over her as Townsend was over alcohol.
Chapter Seven
Hennessy really did give a damn. She wasn’t a relative, she didn’t get paid extra to keep an eye on her, and, as near as Townsend could tell, she didn’t want anything in return. She cared for no reason at all. It was possible she was angling to get something from the stunningly fabulous Miranda Bartley, but Hennessy had never asked a single question about the great writer, so that was just speculation. But everybody had some sort of angle. You had to stay on your toes.
The Right Time Page 9