He slid open the screen door and stepped out onto the deck beside me. “Hey there, Tiger.”
I tucked my elbows tight to my sides. “Hey,” I said, “you’re really late tonight.”
“I know. I’m starving.” He knelt beside my chair and looked up at the sky. “So what are you seeing up there?”
“Not a whole lot, there’s too much light from all the houses. But over there” — I pointed — “you can see part of Orion. In another hour or so you’ll be able to see the handle of the Big Dipper.”
“You’re a real expert, huh?”
“No. I just know a little about the Milky Way. Grandma Beth and I have some star maps, and we take them to the park and try to figure out the different patterns.”
“I saw the Northern Lights once,” Trey said.
I perked up. “Really? I’ve only seen pictures.”
“I was on Highway 95, coming home from Idaho just before midnight. It looked like white sheets dancing in the sky. Darndest thing I’ve ever seen. I had to pull over and watch for a few minutes.”
“You were really lucky,” I said. “They’re not very common around here.”
“Yeah, it was pretty cool.” The microwave chimed, and he stood up. “But enough stargazing for now, you need to come in and do homework.”
I swallowed. It was now or never. I reached for the cuff of his jacket before he could move away. “Trey,” I said, “you know those surveillance photos you showed me?”
Our eyes met, and I knew I had his instant attention. “What about them?”
I let go of his jacket and dug my fingernails into my palms. “Could I maybe look at them again?”
“New ones, or the ones I already showed you?”
A nervous giggle slipped out. “Uh … I didn’t know there were new ones.”
“There’s new ones every day.”
“Oh … yeah.”
His jaw set, and despite the dim glow of the porch light, I knew he saw right through me. “What’s going on, Poppy?”
I’d been sure that when I really needed them to, the words would come. But they didn’t. I had no idea what to say. I popped my knuckles. “Nothing. I’ve just been thinking more about it is all, and I think I might’ve seen that Frank guy after all.”
“You might’ve, or you did?”
I swallowed. “I don’t know. That’s why I want to look again.”
Trey ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t tell me you saw him and didn’t say anything.”
I wanted to put a finger to my lips, to beg him to keep his voice down so Marti wouldn’t hear. “I don’t know. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. I was scared.” The excuses flowed out my mouth, but none of them could hold water, not even to me.
“It’s okay to be scared, Poppy. But this isn’t some game. It’s illegal to impede an investigation by withholding information.”
Withholding information? It sounded so official. “I’m really sorry, Trey. I was gonna tell you. Just not right then.”
Trey sniffed. “When, then? What if Frank kills someone else?”
Tears filled my eyes, and my whole body went limp with shame. “I was gonna tell you,” I whispered, “just as soon as my grandma came back home.”
Trey was quiet for what seemed like a long time. A car rattled by the front of the house, and a tree frog croaked from somewhere nearby. I pulled my knees up to my chest so I’d have something to hold on to. I could feel the wild thumping of my heart against my leg as the seconds passed.
“You were afraid you’d get sent back to the center,” Trey finally said, but his voice had lost some of its hardness.
I nodded and felt a strange sort of relief that he’d figured it out by himself. The truth sounded so selfish inside my head, I could only guess how bad it would sound out loud. And yet I had this crazy need to make him understand.
“Grandma Beth … she’s always been there for me. We’ve always been there for each other. And then they separated us, and I barely got to see her, that’s why I ran away that day. But here with your mom, it’s not like that. Here, it’s really good. But I know that once you get …” My voice cracked, and I struggled to get control of it again. “Once you get Frank, then you won’t need me anymore. That’s the only reason I didn’t tell you before.”
I searched his face for any sign that he understood, that he didn’t hate me. But his jaw was still set. “All right,” he said. “You bought yourself a few extra days. Now it’s time to step up to bat.”
MARTI took me by the hospital on our way to the shelter the next morning. I waited for her to ask what had happened with Trey the night before, but she didn’t, and I was glad. I’d done what I was supposed to; I’d identified William Eugene Frank. But all it had done was make me feel a little less guilty and a lot more afraid. Afraid they’d quickly arrest him, and afraid of what would happen to me once they did.
I was still worrying over it as Marti and I walked down the hospital hallway, and I almost ran smack into Miss Austin as she came out of Grandma’s room. She wore different earrings for a change — tiny silver chains with a star at the end. “How come you’re here?” I blurted.
“Well, fancy meeting you two,” she said. “I just had a few things to discuss with your grandmother. She’ll be happy to see you.” She clicked off down the hall with no further explanation.
Marti smiled. “Well, at least we know your grandma must be awake.”
I stepped into the room. The purple curtain was pushed back from the bed, and Grandma Beth was turned toward us. “Hey,” I said, “you’re up.”
She smiled at me. “Poppy,” she said. She paused to draw in a deep breath as she looked at Marti. “Good … morning?”
“Yes, indeed,” Marti said. “You’re exactly right.”
I hated how hard it was for Grandma Beth to talk, like even a few words were an effort. I thought of all the long conversations we’d had in the past, all the laughing we’d done, and I felt tears threaten again. I quickly forced them back with a smile. “What was Miss Austin doing here?”
“Just checking in.” She patted my hand. “How’s Poppy?”
I pulled up a chair and told her all about Officer Kinsley and about convincing Carol to let me work with Gunner and about Lizzie. She smoothed a finger over my hand as I chattered on, talking enough for both of us. Her fingernails were outlined in thin blue lines. I tried to remember if they’d been there before.
“So good-looking,” she said with effort, when I showed her a picture of Gunner on my phone. “What a shame if he were … put to sleep.”
“Oh, he won’t be,” I said. “I’ll make sure.”
A warm, faraway look filled her eyes, almost like she was remembering something. “You make me so proud, Poppy.”
Despite how slow the words were coming out of her mouth, a warm glow spread through me, and I smiled.
Just then a nurse came into the room. She took Grandma’s temperature and blood pressure and gave her more medicine, and Marti and I decided we’d better go and let her rest. But those words she’d said about being proud of me kept replaying in my head all day, just like a favorite song, and I wished Trey had been there to hear. Maybe then he’d believe that I was a good kid, and not one who went around lying to people whenever it was convenient.
That night in bed, I stared up at Marti’s ceiling, and pretended it was my bedroom ceiling at home and that I could see my glow-in-the-dark stars. Grandma Beth and I had gone to see the planetarium show at Spokane Falls Community College when I was in third grade. We’d bought the star stickers from the bookstore afterward. They had faded a bit with time, but still glowed in position — Polaris centered directly over my head, Ursa Minor above, and Ursa Major off to the left. It seemed like a long time since I’d fallen asleep beneath their comforting glow. I wondered if I ever would again.
When Marti and I got to the shelter the next morning, Lizzie was waiting with a new baggie of dog treats in one hand and a tiny orange-and-white kitten in th
e other.
“Awwwww, where did he come from?” I asked, stroking the kitten’s head. “He’s adorable.”
“Somebody just brought in six of them. She’s the cutest, though.”
“She, huh?”
The kitten looked up at Lizzie with bright, round eyes that took up half her face, and I was surprised by the charmed look on Lizzie’s face. I’d never seen her look at any of the animals that way. “You don’t like her or anything, do you?”
“She looks like a Garfield, doesn’t she?”
I hooted. “You already named her?”
She gave me a fake scowl. “Oh, leave me alone. I only said she looked like a Garfield.”
“She does. Maybe you should ask your mom if you can keep her.” I pointed at the baggie of dog treats. “So, I’m guessing you brought these for me?”
“Actually I brought them for Gunner.”
I laughed and grabbed them from her. “Funny. Are you gonna come be my babysitter again?”
“Yeah, I’ll meet you out there.”
“Okay, but you better keep Garfield out of sight, or Gunner might think she’s a snack,” I called to her as I headed off to Gunner’s area.
Gunner gave a woof of joy when I came around the corner. He usually greeted me with a wagging tail, but he’d never barked like that, and it made me take in a happy breath. I opened his kennel and hugged him. “Yeah,” I said, “it’s great to see you, too. Come on, boy, today is the day we conquer the stay command. Are you ready?”
Gunner and I were almost through another good session when Marti stepped out the back door of the shelter. “Hey, Marti,” I called, waving her over. “Come see how good Gunner’s doing. He’ll stay even when I take his leash off.”
She stood gazing in my direction for several seconds, almost like she hadn’t heard me. Then she walked slowly over to the enclosure and rested her arms on the top of the fence.
I took a close look at her. “Are you okay?”
Her mouth pinched into a crooked line, almost like she was in pain. A creeping chill ran up my arms and down my back. “What’s wrong, Marti?”
Her face crumpled. “Oh, Poppy,” she said, shaking her head. “Oh … honey.”
And I knew.
An intense buzzing filled my ears, like there were a million grasshoppers inside my head. I dropped the bag of dog treats and clutched my hands over my ears. I took a few stumbling steps before my knees buckled, and the hard ground came up to meet me.
Things meshed into a strange blur after that. Gunner’s wet nose poked my cheek. Lizzie and Marti helped me stand. Someone brushed dirt off the back of my pants. I don’t remember any time passing, but suddenly Trey was there. And then he and Marti and I walked across the black asphalt of the hospital parking lot. There was hushed, quiet conversation behind my back, voices I recognized and others I didn’t. A doctor came to talk to us and then a hospital chaplain. One of them asked if I wanted to see Grandma Beth. No, I didn’t. What I wanted was to be left alone. To slink off alone and disappear into myself.
I dozed off in Trey’s car on the way back to Marti’s. I don’t know how I got into the house, or what time it was when I finally flopped across the bed. Marti tugged off my shoes and covered me with the blankets. Then I rolled onto my stomach, put the pillow over my head, and tried to pretend that this day had never happened.
My rumbling stomach woke me the next morning. For a few peaceful seconds all I thought about was breakfast. Then everything came back, rushing my mind with misery. Grandma Beth. My stomach clenched into a steel fist. Oh, Grandma Beth. It seemed so wrong for my stomach to growl. How could I be hungry when my whole world was gone?
Miss Austin came to the house. She made me put on a clean shirt and then took me to the center to see a counselor. The counselor’s name was Mrs. Green, but her office was painted in shades of blue and white.
Mrs. Green invited me to sit on a couch beside her and gave me a cup of hot lemon tea. I sipped the tea and nibbled an energy bar while she talked. She assured me that however I was feeling was perfectly normal, and that it was okay to grieve in whatever way felt natural to me. She said that some people expressed their grief inwardly and some outwardly. She had a nice, soothing voice and said things that sounded good. She asked me to think about what she’d said and said that she’d see me the next day for another session. But I couldn’t do what she asked, I couldn’t think about what she’d said, because the second I walked out of her office I forgot every word.
Marti tried to get me to stay out in the living room, to listen to the messages from Lizzie, or to watch TV with her. But all I wanted was to be alone so I could try and go back to sleep. Sleeping was the only thing that blocked out the despair, but I couldn’t get my mind to shut down enough to let me sleep. I was in the bedroom that evening, staring through the blinds at the dim light of dusk when Trey came home.
He and Marti talked quietly in the living room for a few minutes before he came into the bedroom and flipped on the light. “Hey, Tiger.”
I groaned and flung an arm across my eyes. “Turn if off! I’m trying to sleep.”
“Sounds like you’re awake to me.”
“I said I’m trying to sleep.”
“That’s about all you’ve done for the last twenty-four hours. It’s time to get up now.”
“I don’t want to.”
“But it’s suppertime. You need to come eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Trey grasped my arm and pulled me up onto the edge of the bed. It startled me more than hurt, but tears jumped to my eyes anyway. I rubbed my arm. “Why can’t you just leave me alone, Trey?”
He sat down beside me. “The service for your grandma is tomorrow.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “No. I’m not going to any service.”
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t want to see her … dead,” I said, and my voice cracked on the last word.
“You don’t have to see her if you don’t want. She’ll be in a casket.”
“I don’t want to go, Trey.”
He rubbed his chin and stared off into the air. “Nobody can make you go, Poppy. But I’m gonna tell you something. If you don’t go, it’ll be one of those decisions you’ll regret for the rest of your life.”
I tried to make sense of his words, but my mind felt like it had gauze wrapped around it. “Why?” I finally asked.
“Because,” he said gently, “it’s your chance to say good-bye. That’s why.”
I sucked in a trembling breath. “But I don’t wanna say good-bye.”
Trey sighed. He interlaced his fingers and studied them. “Okay. You give it a little more thought. But for right now, you need to come eat something. Mom’s really worried about you.”
“I might throw up if I eat.”
He stood and held out a hand to me. “Come on, come try.”
I teetered on the edge of the bed and looked at his hand. “Trey?”
“Yeah?”
“Is she really gone?”
He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed again. “Afraid so, Tiger. Come ’ere.” He raised his arm, and I crawled under it and held on to him as tight as I could. The tears came out of nowhere, buckets of them, and I didn’t understand how I’d ever be able to say good-bye to Grandma Beth.
GRANDMA Beth’s service was held at the Lotus Garden Cemetery. There was a little building that looked like it belonged in Japan, with stone pillars and a woven lattice roof. Twelve of us stood in a semicircle and listened to a man in a dark suit talk about what a wonderful woman Bethany Ann Parker had been.
I stood with Trey, Marti, and Miss Austin. Carol and Lizzie came, too. Our landlady, Mrs. Gilly, was there, along with two other ladies from our apartment building. The other people I didn’t know. One said he’d worked with Grandma Beth as a hospice volunteer years before. The other two were care workers from the Huckleberry Home.
The casket was plain brown with a shiny coating. A thin strip of bras
s trim lined both sides. The lid was closed. I wondered if Grandma Beth was really in there. But I didn’t want to see, because then I’d know for sure.
After the brief service came the burial. I asked Miss Austin if I could go sit in her car and wait, and she said yes. I could tell Trey didn’t like the idea. He watched me the whole way over to her car. I climbed into the backseat, waited until Trey looked away, and then slipped out the other side. I didn’t think too much about where to go. All I knew was that I wanted to be someplace else … anywhere else but here, watching them put Grandma Beth in the ground.
I started walking, and my feet instinctively took me toward Manito Park. It was a lot farther from the Lotus Garden Cemetery than I realized. But I just kept walking until my legs burned and my feet ached and the soft green lawn of the park finally came into view.
It was quiet in the cactus house with only a few visitors ambling along the dirt pathways. I breathed in the steamy air and headed for my favorite place — a wood and wrought-iron bench hidden behind the flat, giant leaves of a banana palm. Water trickled softly in the reflection pond, and there was an occasional flash of orange from a koi goldfish.
Someone had left a half-full water bottle sitting on the bench. I hesitated only a second before I twisted the top off and drank it. Then I settled against the bench, propped my head on my hand, and closed my eyes.
It was my arm slipping off the armrest that jolted me awake.
A little boy with almond-shaped eyes squinted at me through the leaves of the banana palm while the grown-ups behind him chattered in a foreign language. I reached for my cell phone to check the time, only to remember I’d left it on the backseat of Miss Austin’s car. My head felt groggy, and my stomach felt like it was touching my backbone. I hadn’t eaten anything since the small bowl of applesauce Marti had coaxed into me the evening before.
I stood and stretched and walked outside to look at the clock tower. Three-thirty. Grandma Beth’s service had been at eleven o’clock. It seemed strange that over four hours had passed; it didn’t feel like any time had gone by at all.
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