Overnight

by Adele Griffin

  “Yo, dude! Uh-uh. Not a trace, and we’re going on, like, three hours. Aw, dude, I can’t come out. We got cops here!” Topher’s whisper cracked with excitement.

  The movie’s sound was turned up loud, but voices made a constant static above. Leticia could hear that Mrs. Rosenfeld had arrived with Gray’s little brother, Robby. Then she thought she heard Mr. Rosenfeld’s voice, too, along with the more distant scratch of police shortwaves.

  We are like the Enchanted Castle princesses, thought Leticia. We are trapped here in the dungeon while real things in the real world are spinning all around us.

  A few minutes later, Serena’s parents arrived, chattering, jostling down the stairs behind Mrs. Donnelley, and making so much fuss that Caitlin had to press PAUSE.

  Serena stumbled to her feet, reluctant. “I don’t wanna…” she began. But Mr. Hodgson pulled her up in his arms while Mrs. Hodgson touched Serena’s nose, her cheeks, her hair, to reassure herself that all the princess pieces of lovely Serena were here.

  They were overprotective, those Hodgsons, half-crazy with parent love. Like that time when Serena fell in gymnastics competition, Leticia remembered, how they swept in from the audience and scooped her up and away like she was made out of stars and glass.

  Her own mom and dad were different. They had raised Celeste and Leticia to be independent. They weighed and balanced and related everything back to The Law, to Ethics and Conduct and Responsibility. “Figure it out,” Leticia’s mom liked to say. “It’s your life. You live with your decisions, and you should be prepared to defend them.”

  The Hodgsons held a parent net to catch Serena every time. Now Leticia watched them cling to her. Then Mrs. Hodgson turned to Mrs. Donnelley. “It’s late. Shouldn’t the girls be in bed? Some are staying the night, isn’t that correct?”

  “Yes, yes, yes.” Mrs. Donnelley sounded defeated. Her mother power was gone since she had lost Gray. She was not being who she liked to be—a show-off perfect mother. A mother who said, “Caitlin, you really need a hair trim!” or “Caitlin, let’s get you some new sneakers because your other ones are absolutely, positively shot.”

  Ha, ha, thought Leticia.

  After Mrs. Donnelley and the Hodgsons went upstairs, Zoë said, “Maybe the Hodgsons came because they want to take Serena far away and safe from the kidnapper. Like what happened to that other girl. Remember that story in the newspapers?”

  “There’s no kidnapper! Shut up!” Caitlin threw a pillow at Zoë’s head.

  “I was only thinking out loud,” said Zoë.

  “Yeah, but don’t say stuff like that, Zoë. Just because Gray is missing temporarily doesn’t mean that poor Caitlin’s birthday party should be ruined.” Kristy’s voice was stern. “She’ll probably be back any minute.”

  “Thanks, Kristy,” said Caitlin in a sad little voice.

  “That kidnapper was a man, though,” said Martha. “Right, Zoë?” Leticia thought she detected worry or something like it in Martha’s voice.

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s right. Remember?” Zoë sat up. “It was all over the news a while back, every channel, my mom was talking about it all the time, that horrible scary story about that girl—”

  “Stop, Zoë, I swear, or I’ll get nightmares!” yelled Caitlin.

  “Hey, kids, lower your voices, how about?” called Topher from where he was, on another phone call.

  “C’mon, everyone stop talking and play the movie.” Leticia did not want to think about kidnappers, or worse. She thumped her fist like a gavel. “It’s just getting good. It’s about to start sinking.”

  The room hushed. Caitlin pressed PLAY and raised the volume.

  From somewhere in the room came the sound of a cat meow.

  “Did you hear that?” asked Martha after a moment.

  Nobody answered.

  “It sounds like a cat!”

  Nobody said a word.

  “Gee, you’re all so funny, I forgot to laugh,” said Martha with a yawn.

  Kristy raised her mouth and eyebrows and looked over at Leticia, who smiled.

  It was working. It was really working.

  They were following Leticia. They were playing her game. Ignore-Martha-till-she-cries.

  Only Martha never cried, did she?

  Gray

  THE VOICE WOKE HER.

  “Kathy!” he said. “Kat. Get out here! Who is that kid?”

  Gray opened her eyes to see a man standing in the middle of the room. From outside, she heard the rumble of a car driving away too fast.

  Kathy, Kat. That was Katrina.

  The man, who must be Drew, was not much older than Topher. He was small, heavy-boned, and fattish around his middle. Not as nice-looking as Topher. No, not at all, with that bumpy pink skin and those gluey, oyster-blue eyes. His hair straggled over his ears and a plum-colored tattoo of a swan marked the upper half of one of his arms. Then Gray saw it was a birthmark.

  In a fairy tale, Drew would not have been the handsome prince, but he might have been the tailor’s apprentice or the cook’s apprentice. The jolly, foolish man who somewhere along the way has helped the unlucky princess. Who, as a reward at the end of the story, gets to work at the palace.

  Drew did not look very jolly right now. He looked angry and confused.

  Katrina shuffled from the bedroom as Gray sat up and wiped some drool from her cheek.

  Drew turned. “Kat?” he drawled. “Who’s the girl, Kat?”

  “My name is Gray Rosenfeld,” said Gray. “It’s time for me to go home.”

  “Who? Who is this? You know this kid?” Drew kept steering his questions in Katrina’s direction.

  “She’s from my party,” Katrina answered primly. “Which, as it turned out, wasn’t my party after all. I couldn’t find my party.”

  “Party? Kat, we’ve been through this. I’ll have a party for you when we’re more settled. Next week, maybe.”

  Katrina clenched her fists in her lap. “You told me whenever I wanted it. You promised…and I thought you were tricking me when you left this afternoon! I thought I was supposed to come find you!”

  “Find me? I said a thousand times I was going out with Tony for a while. I had some errands, I said. I told you.” Drew’s drawl was dropping into a low grumble.

  Katrina did not say anything. So Gray recited her address and her phone number and her mother’s car phone number and her mother’s cell phone number and her father’s work number and her father’s cell phone number. She was halfway through Caitlin’s address when Drew interrupted her.

  “Okay, okay.” He held up a hand for Gray to stop. “I’ll take you home. My girlfriend, Kat, she’s a little, you know…” He pulled his hand through his greasy hair. His feet were restless on the floor. They carried him a little bit here and then there. He turned to Katrina again. “You took the car and went out? Where to?”

  “Oh, around. The store, and then some roads with houses. I thought I was supposed to find you.”

  Drew spun in a clumsy half circle and made a frustrated growling noise. “You said you’d stay here and wait for those guys to drop by. Did they come by while you were out?”

  “How do I know if they came by while I was out? I was out! Why are you yelling at me? I hate it when you yell!” Although it was Katrina’s voice that blared. She cupped her hands over her face and began to wag her head back and forth.

  “And where’d you find her, this kid?”

  “I stopped by the party and she came out with me. She wants to leave, but I don’t know if I can drive any more.”

  Gray edged herself forward on the couch. She allowed herself to suck both ends of her thumbs, which she had been long trained against doing. She needed food. She needed to use the bathroom. She could feel panic crawling like invisible bugs on her skin, and she wished she knew her mother’s yoga breathing tricks.

  All her life, Gray had obeyed the rules of grown-ups. The rules were work hard, finish homework, be polite, volunteer, and play fair, and all the f
uture rewards—happiness, safety, and a nice college—would be hers to enjoy.

  Under these rules, Gray’s entire life until her mother got sick had made sense. And even after the sickness, there were rules. New rules, some not as easy, but they existed just the same. They existed along with old rules, these new rules such as don’t upset Mom and don’t cry and be brave for Robby and keep it down and please no more crying and we all have to pull our weight around here, Gray! were harder to follow.

  She did try, even though she wanted her old mom back. The livelier, more fun mom that she used to have. The mom who took Gray and Robby to SpaceRollers restaurant on Sunday nights, the mom who turned raking leaves in the backyard into a family game. That mom always wanted Gray and Robby to experience things. Taste this soup, Gray. More pepper, do you think? Listen, Gray. That’s a jaybird. Look, look, Gray, up at the skywriter! Oh, Gray, can you smell that awful factory smoke? Peee-yew!

  Before she got sick, she had been more radiant with life than any mom. Always she had led the way, waltzing ahead and doubling back, circling and coaxing Gray and Robby into the enchantment of what she saw and heard and knew.

  Gray missed her old mom, but she respected the new rules.

  Not one single rule in her life had prepared her for this night.

  Gray looked from Drew to Katrina and back again. The two of them seemed to shine with a jittery energy. Gray could not see if these people had RIGHT or WRONG stamped across them. They were mixed-up and smeary. They blurred.

  If a real grown-up were here, the grown-up would know what kind of danger might flood this house. Gray could not tell. She tried but she could not grasp it.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” she said.

  Drew pointed to the bathroom door. His eyes remained on Katrina.

  “I can’t believe you went out,” he said. “I can’t believe you took the car and went out. After what I told you. Did you run into anybody? Anyone you know?”

  “No, nobody. I’m sorry I went out,” Kat answered. “I didn’t think you’d be mad.” She did not sound very sorry. She sounded as if she were speaking to finish up the conversation.

  Gray looked from Drew to Kat and back again. Searching for clues and rules.

  Would they take her home? Would they hurt her?

  She didn’t know. She escaped to the bathroom and locked the door.

  She stayed in the bathroom for a while, searching. There was nothing to find. In the medicine cabinet was a bottle of mouthwash, dental tape, a bottle of pills to stop burping. On the windowsill was an abandoned spiderweb in which was trapped a husk that might once have been a small fly. On the toilet tank was an air deodorizer in the shape of a sleeping unicorn. In the shower was a piece of soap worn thin as a tongue.

  These people no they are not bad no because if these people were bad shouldn’t there be more dangerous clues lying around?

  She could lock the door and stay in this bathroom all night. She could sleep in the tub. Shut her eyes and wait for her parents to find her. Maybe they were already on her trail!

  She climbed in the tub and hugged her arms around her knees. Closed her eyes and tried to transport herself to somewhere else.

  Right at this moment, she bet Martha Van Riet was saying awful things about her. That’s what Martha did whenever one of the group was not around. Last week, it had been Zoë who was absent, and Martha spent the whole day slamming her.

  All those terrible things she said! Like, “I could put a leash on Zoë’s eyebrows and walk them as pets, ha ha ha!” And, “Have you ever noticed how know-it-all Zoë talks like she’s got a stick up her butt, ha ha ha!” And, “You know, once I heard a rumor that Zoë French-kissed a dog on a truth-or-dare last year at camp!”

  Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!

  Everyone laughed and said no way and that’s so gross, Mar, and everyone sort of came to Zoë’s defense, but not really.

  Now Martha was probably slamming her. Caitlin would be over-ready to laugh about Gray, too, since Gray had wrecked her birthday party.

  The bathroom was beginning to feel cramped and suffocating. From behind the door was silence. Had Drew and Katrina left the house? Left her behind? Was it safer that way, to be here in this house without them? Alone?

  Gray emerged from the bathroom. She saw Katrina lying on the couch, the remote control in her hand. Drew was standing behind her, staring sulkily out the window and biting the edge of his thumb.

  “I’m hungry,” said Gray.

  Katrina nodded. “Me, too.”

  “No, I mean, I’m really hungry.”

  “Me, too. I’d like some chickpeas and feta cheese.”

  “You don’t understand. If I don’t eat something, I might faint,” said Gray.

  Although she had never fainted in her life, not even when she stepped on a glass bottle on the beach and was taken to the hospital, where she got five stitches. That afternoon was scary. She’d thought she might faint plenty of times. When she saw flies land on her blood that spattered dark across the sand. When the doctor, meaning to be helpful, showed her the black stitching thread. When she caught sight of the metal butterfly clip that pinched the skin back into place.

  But she had not fainted. Not once.

  She was not about to faint now, either. But if Drew and Katrina refused to give her something to eat, then she might deduce some clues about them. That they were criminals or something.

  “There’s no food here,” said Katrina.

  Drew was making a slow lap of the room, peering out each frost-smudged window. “If they came by and didn’t see the car, I guess they’ll be back,” he said.

  “Do you have a cell phone?” Gray asked Drew politely. She tried to imagine what was happening at the Donnelley house. It was cake time, maybe. Or presents. She wished she had put on her watch this morning.

  “Why, who do you want to talk to? You can’t call anyone right now. I don’t need to add you to my problems.” Drew dismissed Gray with an impatient glare. “What are you saying, there’s no food left, huh, Kat? There’s gotta be something.”

  “Nope.” Katrina shifted. “I looked already. Hand me that blanket?” She pointed to the blanket Gray had left on the floor by the front door.

  Drew picked up the blanket and walked over to Katrina and dropped it on her in a heap. “What’s that junk all over your face?”

  Katrina touched her cheek and spoke in her baby-girl way. “The ladies made me up at the department store. They did it for free, for my party. They gave me a free lipstick, too. Mango Tango, it’s called.”

  “Kat, for crying out loud! There is no party!”

  “Well, I think that’s a shame.” Katrina pulled her arms over her head and yawned. “You know what? I’m going back to bed.” She shook off the blanket, stood up from the couch, stretched, and touched her toes.

  “I could go see if there’s some food in the kitchen,” Gray offered.

  It was as if she had not spoken at all.

  It was just like that mean game Martha and the others played against her.

  Drew returned to looking out the window, and Katrina shuffled away to the bedroom.

  Gray slipped into the kitchen and snapped on a light that popped and blew. Now the trickle from the living room was the kitchen’s only illumination. She opened the rust-edged refrigerator and inside found a sandwich furry with mold, a sandwich bag filled with carrots and celery sticks, and a couple of cans of beer.

  “Whatcha got?”

  Gray jumped. Drew had crept up behind her.

  “Nothing.”

  He reached past her and hefted a beer. “Kat wasn’t joking,” he said. He swiped the sandwich bag, too. “This’ll do us.”

  Gray nodded. Together, they sat down at a table-and-chairs set that looked better suited to ornament a pool or patio area. The chairs were padded with spongy cushions, and the plastic-topped table was thin and frail enough that Gray might have picked it up and moved it anywhere else.

  “Check the cupboard.”
Drew cracked open the beer. “This is my, uh, buddy’s place and they’re out of town for the week. Which is why it’s lean on supplies.”

  Gray thought Drew might be lying to her. Aside from the spiderweb and dead mouse in the trap, she had noticed a lot of dust around the house, too, in places where people who lived here would have wiped clean. Also, the rooms all had a mushroom smell. An odor of things that have sat too long in closed air.

  She did not contradict, though. She did not want to make Drew angry. She stood on her toes to open the cupboard. She saw baking powder and chili powder, salt and pepper, vinegar, and a dented box of crackers. She pulled down the salt and vinegar and crackers. Maybe she could use the crackers to make a version of salt-and-vinegar potato chips? That might taste good. In another cupboard was a saucer that looked useful for dipping. She returned to sit at the table and she unscrewed the top to the vinegar.

  “You want some crackers and dip?”

  “Ymm,” Drew said as he sipped his beer. He set the can on the table and studied her. “Gray Rosenfeld, right? Rosenfeld. That’s Jewish. I got a couple of Jewish friends. But you don’t look like any Rosenfeld I met.”

  “I was adopted,” Gray answered promptly. She had been told and had told others that she was adopted ever since she could remember. “Jewish people come in all shapes and colors,” she added. Someone had said this to her once. She pooled the vinegar into the saucer’s center and floated a cracker like a small white raft on swamp water.

  “Yeah, and you don’t look like any Gray I know, either.” Drew put a hand over one eye, then the other, studying Gray as if she were an eye chart. “Nah. I never met anyone named Gray. But if I did, she wouldn’t look like you. Nope, no sirree.”

  “What do I look like, then?” she asked, although she was not sure if she was ready to know. Besides, she did not like Drew’s tone.

  “I dunno. Maybe like a half Chinese? Or Mongol? It’s your eyelids, see. How they bend funny.”

  “They do not!” She could not resist touching her fingers to the outer corners of her eyelids, which felt the same as always.