Good thing Alicia decorated.
Ben stopped in front of a swinging door with a window. “We’re about to enter the kitchen. Marilyn is getting things ready for dinner, so we won’t bother her too long.” He held the door back and let the girls pass him.
“Hey, Marilyn. What’s for dinner?”
With the ground beef up to Marilyn’s elbows and the piles of potatoes beside her jiggly belly, Carmen took a guess. “Mmm. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
“That’s right.” Marilyn grinned, her cheeks pink. “You going to introduce us, Ben?” She rolled her eyes at the girls like a coconspirator.
Could it be? A normal person? Had she found an ally among the staff? Carmen smiled back.
“Marilyn, these two young ladies are Leila and Carmen. They’re moving in today.”
Carmen wished he’d stop saying that. “Well, I’m staying here for a while. I wouldn’t exactly say moving in.” A temporary arrangement.
Marilyn’s eyes sparkled. “I get it, honey. The idea takes some getting used to. But trust me. When you get a taste of this meatloaf, you’ll change your address right quick.”
Ben held up his cell phone. “I’ll be in the hallway for just a moment. You three can get to know each other for a minute.”
So much for not bothering Marilyn. Carmen took inventory of the industrial kitchen with all the latest appliances. “Do you ever let people cook with you?”
“Let? Hah. It’s more of a requirement.” Marilyn’s jowls wobbled when she laughed. “The girls all take turns.”
“I love to cook. Since I was little I always wanted to be a chef.” Carmen let her gaze travel to the floor.
“And now?” Marilyn stared so intently, Carmen felt compelled to raise her eyes.
Carmen shrugged. “Now? Oh, who knows? I’m just hoping to make it through this program. Then I guess I’ll think about what I want to be when I grow up.”
Marilyn nodded and shifted her gaze to Leila. “How about you? What are your plans?”
Lelia shrugged. “I’d like to be an adoption lawyer or an international adoption liaison.”
Where had that come from? The chubby girl with braces must be smart. And why adoption? Usually people with sordid pasts wanted to be social workers or psychologists. The adoption angle must play into Leila’s history somehow.
When she got her hands on a notebook, she needed to fill Nellie in. Page one: Ben Bradley. Page two: Leila…? “Hey, what’s your last name anyway?”
Leila blinked. “Wong.” She turned her back to them and seemed to take in the rest of the room.
Wong? Carmen mouthed to Marilyn.
Marilyn shrugged.
Carmen nodded. There was a story there.
Chapter 22
This was a joke, right? Carmen stared at the list of Diamond Estates rules and regulations. It went on for pages and pages.
“I know it must seem like a lot. In fact, we’ve recently revised this list, and the line items more than tripled when we did the revisions. We found that by keeping things simple as we had in the past left too much room for confusion—too many things left open to interpretation.” Ben rocked back in his swivel chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “This way we all know what to expect from each other.”
Carmen flipped through the booklet. Rule twenty-two said there could be no communication or exchange of personal information with non-DE people off campus. Number twenty-three focused on makeup. Twenty-four was skirt length. “Can I speak frankly?”
“Sure. We encourage openness here, Carmen. As long as you’re respectful.”
Carmen’s head shook side to side like a bobblehead with Parkinson’s. Not that her protest would do a bit of good. “Respectfully, I think this is a crock.”
Leila gasped, and her chin about hit the floor.
Ben’s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing as he waited for Carmen to go on.
“I mean, you can force me into the mold of a perfect girl, but that doesn’t make it true. Is it a real change if I’m only acting a certain way because of your rules? Shouldn’t it be because it’s what I want to do?”
“You’ve actually just keyed into an important aspect of the idea of free will—a very basic tenet of the Christian faith. We’ll be covering free will in great detail during the coming weeks, but in essence, what you’re saying is true.”
Right on. He agreed with her. Carmen could get used to that.
“I can’t force you to be a follower of Christ. But I can make you function as someone who won’t be a stumbling block to others and who won’t allow worldly stuff to get in the way of the movement of the Holy Spirit—at least while you’re here.”
What could she say in response? In a weird voodoo sort of way, it made sense. “I just don’t know if I can remember all these rules, let alone follow them.” Carmen turned to Leila and gestured at the packet. “What about you? What do you think about all this?”
Leila shrugged, looked away, and gave a wavering smile. “I’ll do whatever they want me to do. I don’t have any problem following rules.”
Then what was her problem? Was she always so totally agreeable? A people pleaser.
Had Leila made eye contact with anyone even once? Maybe with Marilyn. Carmen searched her memory but couldn’t conjure the image.
Leila had pretty eyes behind those thick glasses, but she needed to learn how to use them. And, though she was ready with a silvery smile at all times, Leila needed to grow a backbone before she’d have any hope of making it in a place like this. Surely the girls at Diamond Estates would be tough as nails and out for blood. Maybe Carmen could watch out for her like Diego had looked out for Carmen—well, not exactly the same way. But first she had to find out what Leila was in for.
Ben approached a closed door and pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket. “The bedrooms are all at the top of these stairs.”
“It’s locked?” Even though it might be fancier than jail, being locked away in a tower like Rapunzel had much the same feel to it.
“Sure, when no one is home or not supposed to be up there. The lock doesn’t work from the reverse. You can always get out. The fire marshal wouldn’t appreciate it if we trapped you all in your second-floor rooms.” Ben laughed like he was a one-man comedy show. At least Carmen wouldn’t be triggering some latent fear of confined spaces. She’d never been claustrophobic before, but being locked in could definitely have done it.
“What’s the deal with the graffiti?” Lelia ran her hand along the graphic walls of the stairway.
“Oh, isn’t that fun? A few months ago we decided to let the girls choose a section of wall space to decorate however they’d like.”
“You got some girls with some mad art skillz.” Carmen heard the Hackensack in her dialect. She couldn’t help it in the face of the territorial designs. Did Ben understand the paintings for what they were? She stopped in front of an upside-down crown with Latin Kings written across it. Beside it was a glowing crown with King of Kings scripted across its center. Hmm. Signaling someone’s transformation? “Who painted this one?”
“Oh, that section is Ju-Ju’s. She graduated about a few months ago. You’ll meet her soon—you’ll have to ask her about her design. It’s a beautiful story.”
“I remember her from my church.”
Ju-Ju’s words came flooding back to Carmen. She’d had it rough—to take care of herself all alone she had to be strong. Was she stronger than Carmen?
What would Carmen paint on the wall if she had the opportunity? Right now? A black hole. Hopefully one day soon she’d have a different picture in mind.
“And here we are.” Ben opened a door and gestured for them to enter the bedroom. “This is your room.”
“Both of us?” Carmen took in the two sets of bunk beds. No way. Bunk beds? Not again.
“Yep. I’ve got both of you in here with two girls who have been here awhile. They’ll help you get through the basics and figure things out here at Diamond.”
&
nbsp; “Awesome.” Leila looked at Carmen with those hopeful BFF eyes.
Oh boy.
Ben looked around the room. “I see your belongings have already been brought up for you. So unless you have any other questions right now, I’ll leave you to get settled.” He backed out the doorway. “There’s a phone out here on the wall. It calls 911 or rings in the staff quarters. Feel free to call on us if you have any problems or needs. We’ll see you downstairs for dinner at five thirty.”
Ben left, taking the force with him. His energy had filled this space, and now it seemed hollow.
Carmen stepped across the room to a closed doorway. “Ah, a bathroom. It’s pretty nice. Double sink. Separate shower. Cool.” Time to unpack. She turned back to the room.
Leila hadn’t moved an inch. “Where do you want to sleep?” She nodded at the unoccupied bunk bed. “Top or bottom?”
If Carmen had been her, she’d have snatched her top choice immediately. “What do you prefer?” Would the top bunk even hold Leila’s weight?
“I don’t care; you pick.”
Carmen would never have chosen the top under different circumstances, but fear of being crushed to death made a person do crazy things. “Okay then. I’m going with the top.”
Lelia nodded like she’d assumed the top would be Carmen’s choice.
Crawling from end to end on her bunk as she tugged the fitted sheet into place, Carmen felt a twinge of nostalgia. She’d had these sheets for years. As she smoothed her favorite blanket out, the sense of longing for home grew heightened in this strange place.
The room was silent except for the zippers of their suitcases and the sliding of drawers. Say something. Hardly ever at a loss for words, even though she often chose not to use them, Carmen searched for something to say.
So, what brings you to… No. That was rude.
Do you miss home? No. Why rub her nose in it?
What do you really think of this place? No. Leila would be all sunshine and roses.
“So, meatloaf for dinner?” Leila’s words intruded the silence.
That’s what she picked as a conversation opener? Meatloaf. “Yeah. Smelled like it might be good.” Carmen shrugged. Who cared?
“I didn’t know it would be like this. It looked like the tables in there were set up like a restaurant. Want to sit with me at dinner?” Leila looked down at her hands and pulled at a Claddagh ring stuck around her middle finger. The ring didn’t move.
“Why not? No one wants to eat alone, right?”
Leila nodded. “That’s like my biggest fear—that I’d have to sit there at a table by myself like every day in school.”
Carmen’s heart sank. Poor girl. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, you can eat with me every day.” Not like offers were beating down Carmen’s door. But maybe soon they would be.
But…oh no. What if some cooler girls wanted Carmen to join them, but now she’d promised Leila? How would she break her promise? Well, she’d have to face that dilemma when it happened. At least for now she wouldn’t be eating alone.
“Is your finger okay?” The puffiness probably didn’t matter, but the red looked menacing.
Leila grimaced. “My ring is stuck. I’m not sure how to get it off. I should have never put it on, but I wanted to wear it.”
“Come with me. We’ll get it off.” Carmen gestured toward the bathroom, where she ran Leila’s hand under cool water and squirted some soap from the wall dispenser right onto the ring. It grew slippery, and Carmen shimmied it off Leila’s hand.
“Oh, great. I had no idea what I was going to do. Thanks.” Leila rubbed her sore knuckle.
Carmen rinsed the ring and then inspected it. “It’s an Irish thing, isn’t it? What’s it called?”
“It’s a Claddagh ring. There are a few legends about what it means, but yeah, it’s Irish.”
“Cool.” Carmen handed it back to her. Her fingers rubbed the spot where her engagement ring had been.
Lelia glanced in the mirror, pulled the sleeves of her white Maui sweatshirt down past her wrists, and gripped them in her fists. She left the bathroom, climbed into the lower bunk, and pulled a paperback from her carry-on.
Looked like social time was over.
What was Carmen supposed to do? Could she go explore the grounds by herself? Or was she expected to stay in her room and wait? She probably wasn’t free to inspect outside, but maybe they weren’t even allowed to wander the house alone. Surprisingly there wasn’t anything like that in the rules, except where it said she had to keep to the schedule at all times. As far as she knew, she had nowhere to go, and wandering didn’t seem to be breaking the rules. Like Dad always said, it’s a lot easier to ask forgiveness than permission.
Carmen looked at her watch. The rest of the girls wouldn’t be back for more than an hour still.
A snore came from the bottom bunk.
That settled it. Carmen reached for her cell phone—oh right, confiscated—and bolted from the room before she changed her mind.
She walked down the hallway, sure no one would be around, then crept down the stairs, hoping they wouldn’t squeak. At the bottom of the stairs, she opened the door one inch at a time. What was she so afraid of? It’s not like Ben could fault her. She wasn’t told where to be or what to do.
A right turn and a short walk led her to a door she hadn’t seen yet. Probably locked. Carmen put her hand on the ancient knob. Please don’t open to Ben Bradley on the toilet. Maybe she should knock. But that would give her presence away to anyone nearby. She turned the handle as slowly as the second hand of a clock. It opened easily. Was the lock broken?
She peered through the doorway and waited as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. A dirt-and-stone stairway looking like it had been carved right into the mountainside led down to cavernous darkness. Now what? She’d come this far. But how could she walk down the stairs in such a creepy place and enter a room or, whatever, blindly? Was she crazy?
A foot lowered onto the first step. Apparently she was.
Another step.
Carmen waited for a creak. Of course none came. The earth itself didn’t make scary noises.
Toes reached below for another step.
Seventeen stairs later, Carmen felt both feet on a landing of some sort. She patted the earth around where she stood. Why was there no light? Something tickled her face, and she squelched a scream. She waved her hands in front of her face in case it was a spider. But if not a spider, what?
There. Carmen grasped a string of some kind and pulled. Light flooded the narrow space. She stood inches from a wooden door. Of course she would open it. She hadn’t come so far to turn back without knowing where the journey would have ended. She wriggled to the side, but the space was too small to open the door while she stood beside it, so Carmen backed up three steps, reached forward, and swung it open.
Cool air blasted her face. Was she outside? Carmen peered through the doorway. Another hallway? No, more like a passageway.
She stepped through, leaving her sanity somewhere on the stairs behind her. Was she starring in some weird horror movie?
The lower ceiling forced Carmen to hunch over, and she crept along the dark tunnel that smelled of minerals and musty earth. The scent reminded her of family trips to Meramec Cavern in Missouri. Exploring the caves and running her fingers across the stalactites and stalagmites—one went up and one went down. Carmen could never remember which was which…but Dad always knew.
She plodded on and on in that weird half-hunched position. When would she reach the end? What would be there when she did? And what if the door was locked when she got back? Nah. One thing at a time. No sense letting her nerves get the best of her.
Wham! The top of her head banged into something solid. Carmen rubbed her skull then patted the object with both hands. It was cool like metal, but smooth and flat like a door. Where was the handle? Ah. There it was. A little lower than where it should have been.
Locked.
Carmen felt the dirt
wall on both sides of her body. Her hand brushed against something—a key! She carefully placed her hand over it and closed her fist around it so she wouldn’t knock it down. It would be difficult to bend over and search the confined area in the dark.
The key slipped easily into the lock, and Carmen readied herself to move through. It opened without a squeak or moan. Carmen leaned forward into the mountain air. Outside. She was outside, beyond the house quite a ways. Behind the horse barn? It hadn’t felt like she’d walked that far, but she must have.
This had to be against the rules. She’d better get back before she got caught.
Maybe she should tell someone about how easy it was for her to get out.
Or maybe she’d keep that tidbit of info to herself. At least for now.
Feeling her way back along the passage, Carmen tripped over her feet and stumbled forward, planting her face in the dirt. She sputtered and spat, flecks of mud flying from her teeth. Gross. She stood as high as she could and brushed the front of her pants. Why had she worn her light jeans that day?
Her back throbbing from being bent over for so long, Carmen hurried on. The slight chance that the door would be locked and she’d never be found niggled at her and hurried her along.
Finally back at the doorway to the stairs that would take her up to the main house, Carmen stepped through and pulled her body fully upright. She stretched her arms up and lengthened her spine then pulled the cord, dousing the light. Seventeen stairs back to the top.
Carmen’s shoulder bumped into the closed door at the top. She reached for the door handle, prepared to turn it slowly so as not to alert anyone to her presence. Hopefully she could make it back to her room, change, and maybe even shower before anyone realized she’d been gone.
Her wrist turned the knob. Nothing happened. She tried again. The handle didn’t move even a fraction of an inch.
Locked.
Chapter 23
Who would have locked it without looking to see if someone was in there? Unless it was like the bedrooms and locked automatically. Which would make sense for security purposes, but made things really tricky for Carmen.
Embittered Ruby Page 18