“I’m stylin’, man,” LaVon said, holding out his arms.
We’d wanted to get three matching polos but we couldn’t find any at the thrift store, and they were too expensive to buy new. Krista had a pattern for a simple bowling shirt and a large piece of red fabric she’d bought on sale, so she’d made us each a uniform last night. One thing about Krista, she can sew fast.
She tugged at the front. “That’s what I was afraid of,” she said. “I was going to mark where the buttonholes go, but I don’t think you’ll be able to do it up. I was kind of short on material. But you can wear a T-shirt under it instead.”
“Cool. I like it loose anyway,” he said.
“Well, I guess you can take it off, since I won’t bother with buttons. All I have to do is finish the hem.”
“Nice touch,” LaVon said, fingering where she’d embroidered his name on the front. Well, not his name, because we didn’t want to give anything away. Instead it said FRANK.
“I think I’ll call you that from now on,” I joked.
He lifted up his silver shades and eyed me in his way, shaking his head.
I laughed. “Or maybe not.”
LaVon held the lobby door open for me, and I wheeled my bike inside, then stopped short, making him bump his bicycle into mine. Josh sat slumped in an orange vinyl chair in the corner, studying his chemistry book.
“Josh? Is my dad okay?”
“Oh, hey, Jamie,” he said, standing and stretching. “I was about to give up and go home.”
“Is he okay?” I asked again.
“He’s fine.”
“How’d you know where to find me?” I asked.
“Megan told me.”
“James,” LaVon said, “move outta the door so I can get inside.”
“Oh, sorry.” LaVon walked past us and went up the stairs. Josh gave him an inquisitive look, but I didn’t explain.
“I wanted to give you this,” Josh said. He handed me a silver key. “It fits the back door of your dad’s place. All the trailers have the same locks so the Teacher can visit unannounced.”
“How convenient. When’s your dad going to call and book us to clean?”
“He told me to set it up, so you’re good,” Josh said. “He was actually pretty relieved by the idea. I’ve added you to the guards’ list for Saturday at ten A.M. Don’t forget, no cell phones, and they’ll search the car before you go in.”
“What are they looking for?”
“Mostly cameras, which is why they don’t want you taking in your phones.”
“But I always used to take mine into the church,” I said.
“You weren’t a stranger,” he explained. “Whatever you do, don’t lose the key. They’re numbered, and that one will lead back to me.”
“Okay. Thanks, Josh.”
He went for a hug, but I sidestepped him, and he brushed his hair with both hands, like he hadn’t reached out for me. I went up the stairs without looking back.
chapter 31
ON SATURDAY MORNING, I SKIPPED DANCE CLASS for the first time since I’d had the flu in tenth grade. Liz had borrowed the red station wagon from her aunt again and brought it over to Krista’s, where we’d filled it with brooms, mops, a couple of orange buckets, a vacuum cleaner, and some rags. And one expertly hidden package of cell phones.
We made sure all the cleaning equipment was easy to see, sticking up, so we looked like an authentic maid service. Then we added a sign Krista had hand-lettered to the driver’s door.
ANGEL CLEANERS
BECAUSE CLEANLINESS IS NEXT TO GODLINESS
Krista stopped at the gate. The guards wore brown servant robes, which made LaVon snicker. I was glad to see I didn’t recognize either of them. Because the R&R had close to a thousand members, I hardly knew anyone, mostly only the ones who chaperoned the dances and youth Bible study.
The blond one, holding a clipboard, stepped up to Krista’s window. “Bless you, sister,” he said.
“Uh…you too.” She took her fake paperwork from me and scanned it like she wasn’t sure where we were supposed to be going. “We’re here to clean number eight.”
The guard leaned over and peered into the car. Krista had tucked her hair up in a scarf to hide the color, and she had the name KELLY embroidered on her shirt. By the time she’d gotten to mine, she’d run out of time, though, and NICOLE was handwritten in Sharpie pen above my pocket. I also wore one of Krista’s fashion wigs, a long black one with bangs, and I stared out the passenger window, in case the guard recognized me after all.
“You’re a cleaner, brother?” the guard asked LaVon. He sounded a bit like he wanted to laugh, but he held back.
“You got a problem with my choice of vocation, brother?”
“No. I most assuredly do not,” the guard said soothingly. “God shows us our path, and He has chosen you to be a servant like me. Who am I to judge?”
“He moves the furniture for us,” Krista said before LaVon could get huffy about being called a servant. “Where do we go?”
“First, we must check the vehicle for devices of Satan,” he said. “Please, step out of the car.”
We all got out, and LaVon lit a cigarette. You could tell both the guards were itching to tell him not to smoke but didn’t have the nerve once they saw how big he really was.
“I am Samuel,” the blond one told us, “and this is Peter.”
Peter looked wiry and maybe a bit hungry. They stuck their heads inside the car, rummaged in the glove compartment, and asked Krista to open up the back so they could look through our cleaning supplies.
“It is God’s will that you empty your pockets and lay everything on the hood of the car,” Samuel said. “If you ladies have handbags, the Teacher respectfully requests that you allow us to see what’s in them.”
“We were told not to bring cell phones,” Krista said, using a falsely sweet voice. “Was there anything else we’re not supposed to have?”
Samuel smiled serenely at her. “What a woman carries with her tells us about her character. Only people of high moral standards are allowed through these gates.”
“So, what,” LaVon asked, “you’re looking for condoms or drugs or somethin’?”
“We’re good girls,” I said, intervening and smiling at the guard, but keeping my eyes down. “Praise God.”
“Indeed,” he said. “Praise God.”
We handed him our purses and watched while he rummaged through them. Not finding a cell phone or anything else he didn’t approve of, he gave them back.
“Seems like ya’d search us on our way out,” LaVon said, dumping out his keys, change, and wallet. “Not on our way in.”
“But don’t you see, Frank?” Peter said, reading the name off LaVon’s shirt. “We’re establishing a friendship now. Once we trust you enough to go into our homes, then we have no reason to search you on the way out.”
We got back into the car as Peter unlocked the big metal gate and swung it open for us. “Number eight’s around the bend in the road,” Samuel said. “On the left. The front door’s open for you. Please be finished in one hour.”
“Thank you,” Krista said. She gunned the motor, and we were inside. I watched in my mirror as they shut the gate, locking us in. We’d already passed my dad’s single-wide trailer before I remembered to check it out.
“That was surreal,” Krista said.
“I thought LaVon was going to get us in trouble,” I said.
“I was just making conversation.”
I rolled my eyes, but he couldn’t see me.
“Back into the driveway,” LaVon told Krista. “And leave the keys in the ignition.”
“Yes, boss,” she said.
We all got out, and Krista and I ran up to the front door. Sure enough, it was unlocked.
“What?” LaVon called after us. “You think I’m carrying all this shit in myself?” He opened the back of the station wagon and began unloading our supplies.
We ran back to help him. �
�Sorry.”
Looking around to make sure no one was watching, I reached under the bumper and pulled out the padded envelope with the cell phones.
Inside the trailer, we all staggered to a stop. “It smells like something died in here!” Krista said, pinching her nose. Empty chip bags, pop cans, and fast-food containers covered every flat surface. Laundry—clean or dirty, we couldn’t tell—was draped over the couch in piles. Papers seemed to be randomly thrown all over the living room, and my shoe was glued to something sticky in the entryway.
LaVon pulled out a huge pair of pink rubber gloves. “Don’t give me any shit,” he said, when we laughed. “Only color they had.”
“What are your hands made of? Gold?” I teased.
“I know what’s in my own toilet,” he said. “I ain’t stickin’ my bare hands in no one else’s.”
“You’re not really going to clean the toilet, are you?” Krista asked.
“Hell, yeah, I am. That’s what the man’s payin’ us for.” He grabbed the fifty-dollar bill off the table where Mr. Peterson had left it for us. “You two better get goin’,” he said. “We got less than an hour to get outta here.”
“You’re not coming with us?” I asked.
“I thought we was clear,” he said, looking at me like I was a dummy, “there’s this little thing called parole that I’m not gonna screw with.”
“You’re on parole?” Krista asked, her eyes bugging out. “What for?”
“You got fifty-two minutes,” LaVon said, ignoring her. “You goin’, or what?”
“But why did you come along?” I asked.
“I’m your cover,” he said. “And I’ll make sure we get out. Don’t try and bring your dad all the way back here. Just get him outside and call me on my cell. We’ll figure it out then.”
“But—”
“Come on,” Krista said, pulling me out the back door.
Each yard had a small blue shed in the back, and we ran from one to the next, but for the most part, we were out in the open. All the disciples and their families were supposed to go to Assembly on Saturday, but there was no way of knowing if they really had gone. We just had to run through the backyards, hoping no one had stayed home and would spot us. At least we knew Mira wasn’t home. It wasn’t safe for Josh to text us, so Liz and Megan had gone to Assembly with him, and they’d sent Krista a message, letting us know she was at the church.
When we got to my dad’s shed, we leaned against it, panting. I think I was short on breath more from fright than exertion.
“Can you hear that?” Krista whispered.
“Yeah.”
The gate was so close to my dad’s trailer that from where we stood the sound of the guards’ mumbled voices floated back to us. We couldn’t see them, though, and we had a clear line to the rear door.
“Ready?” I asked her.
“I’m gonna text LaVon to let him know we’re going in.”
When she was done, we hurtled ourselves across the tiny backyard and up to the door. I thrust the key in the lock, and it turned easily. We stepped into the dim kitchen and looked around. Cheap cabinets, mini appliances, and a laminate countertop framed a spotless Formica table. The kitchen literally sparkled, it was so clean. We crept down a narrow hallway, carefully opening each door and peering in. Bathroom. Closet. Master bedroom. And finally, near the front of the trailer, a locked door.
“He’s got to be in there,” I said. “What if someone’s with him, though? Like a guard?”
“I’m guessing they would’ve heard us whispering by now,” she said. “This door is one of those cheap, flimsy kinds.”
She was probably right. And then, from inside, we heard a cough.
“That’s him!” I said.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. He’s my dad! I would know his cough anywhere.” That wasn’t actually true, but who else could it be?
“Give me a hairpin,” Krista said.
I pulled one out of the wig. Five minutes later, the door was still locked and I’d searched all over the trailer for a screwdriver to pry the knob off, but hadn’t had any luck.
“It looks so easy in the movies,” Krista said, throwing the pin away. “Maybe LaVon knows how to do it.”
Another wracking cough came from inside the room, and I thought I heard my dad mumble something, but then it got quiet again.
“We can’t ask LaVon,” I said.
“Well, we’ve only got about twenty minutes to get out of here. What else can we do?”
“Fine. Call him and see what he says.”
I pressed my ear to the door while she dialed. “LaVon?” Krista whispered. “He’s here, but he’s locked in the bedroom and we can’t get the door open.”
I could hear LaVon loud and clear, even though Krista didn’t have him on speaker phone. “Did you look for a key?” he asked.
“Ummm…no.”
“Check over the door.”
I ran my hands over the molding, but struck out. I tried all the doors in the hallway too, but there wasn’t any key.
“We need help,” Krista said.
“Goddammit,” LaVon said. “I’m up to my elbows in dishes over here, and you can’t even get a fuckin’ door open without me, and now I’m gonna go back to jail, and I’ll never see my grandbaby till she’s grown, all because some fool I don’t even know, who can’t hold on to his money, gets hisself kidnapped.…” He kept going for a while. Finally he told us to chill and he’d be over in a minute. Any other time, we would’ve laughed at his rant, but we could both feel the clock ticking. My insides were so twisted, I thought I might throw up.
About two minutes later, LaVon barreled in through the kitchen. “Move outta the way,” he said. We stepped back, and he bashed into the door with his massive shoulder. The wood splintered; with a second shove, the door gave way and we were inside the room.
The curtains were drawn, and the only light came from the hallway. My dad lay on a pallet on the floor, his eyes large and afraid, but his body unresponsive despite the door being broken open. And then we saw why. Wide nylon straps held him down.
LaVon pulled a huge knife out of his pocket, flipped it open, and reached to cut away the bonds. My dad tried to scream, but all that came out was a raspy gasp.
“Wait!” Krista shouted. She flipped the light on. “I want pictures in case we need proof.” LaVon jumped back out of the way as she snapped them with her phone.
“I hear somethin’,” LaVon said. We froze, holding our breath, and then we heard it too, footsteps creaking up the trailer’s front steps. “You’re not here, James,” LaVon said. “You got it?”
“But—”
“I said, you’re not here!”
I nodded, and he shoved me and Krista into a minuscule closet. He was still wearing his pink rubber gloves, which reminded me that Gyp had told us to wear some too, but we’d totally forgotten. LaVon pressed the knife into my hand and slid the closet door shut, leaving us in the dark. We heard him go out of the room, and then doors banged and men started shouting.
chapter 32
“I SAID DON’T MOVE,” ORDERED A MAN’S VOICE IN the hallway. It sounded like the blond guard, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Chill, dude,” LaVon said. “I thought you trusted me, man.”
“That was before God led us to look up from our prayers and see you stealing across the yard,” the guard said.
“Oh, yeah, well…I was just cleanin’.”
“You’re not supposed to be cleaning this trailer.”
“I got mixed up,” LaVon said. He sounded so calm. Krista and I held on to each other, barely breathing.
“Where are those girls?” asked a different voice.
“They’re in number eight,” LaVon said. “Mr. P. left a note there with our money askin’ us to do this one too. What’s your problem, man?”
“Don’t move,” the guard said. “Peter, you look around while I stay here with him.”
“Th
ere ain’t nothin’ to see,” LaVon said. “I didn’t do nothin’.”
We heard footsteps, and then from the doorway of my dad’s room, a voice said, “Samuel, he broke down this door.”
“Oh, yeah, that,” LaVon said. “I thought I was supposed to clean that room, but there’s some dude sleeping in there. Are you sure he’s okay? He looks kinda pale.”
“Mr. Cross,” we heard a voice ask, “are you all right?”
Dad tried to say something, but all that came out was a raspy cough. Krista and I clung together and pressed ourselves into the corner of the closet, holding our breath.
LaVon said from the other room, “Can we take this discussion outside, man? I wanna smoke, and I’m gettin’ all claustrophobic and shit in here.”
“Is he all right?” we heard Samuel ask.
“Looks about the same as last time I checked on him,” Peter answered.
“Okay, brother, let’s step outside. I’m sure the Teacher will want to speak to you before we call the authorities.”
“You’re in charge, man,” LaVon said.
“This way.”
As soon as they were gone, we sent two text messages. One to Liz, and one to Josh, telling them the guards had LaVon and we were stuck in Dad’s trailer.
“Maybe after Assembly finishes they can cause a distraction or something in the parking lot so we can get out,” Krista said.
“If Josh will even help us. He might not want to now.”
We made ourselves wait another two minutes, listening carefully, in case someone was still skulking around.
“Do you think it’s safe yet?” I whispered.
“What choice do we have?” Krista asked. “We’ve got to get your dad out of here before Mira comes back.”
When we stepped out of the closet, Dad started wriggling around and tried to scream again.
“Shhh.”
“Who are you?” he rasped, his voice barely audible.
I handed Krista the switchblade, and she sliced through the straps.
“It’s okay, Dad.” I touched his forehead with my hand.
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