Vanish

by Karen Spafford-Fitz

  I pull the bike out. The tires are a bit soft. I can’t find a pump, so they will have to do. At least the helmet almost fits me.

  As I take off down the driveway, I think of Lily mixing up the numbers in her address. Right now, I am thankful that the streets and avenues all have numbers. They make it easier to find your way around the city.

  I turn onto Lily’s avenue, and I soon find her house number. I take in the massive gardens and the big, sprawling house. I wonder what it would feel like to live in a beautiful house all the time. I wonder where we might live next. I shudder as I remember some of the tough neighborhoods we’ve lived in. The ones where you keep your head down and you walk really fast until you’re safely inside your apartment.

  I push those thoughts from my head as I ring the doorbell. Right away, I see an older man on the other side of the glass door. Lily’s grandfather?

  I smile, but the man does not smile back. But then, Rachel doesn’t smile much either. Maybe that’s how they are in her family.

  “Hello,” I say. “I have something to return to Lily.”

  “Which one is that? The woman or the little kid?”

  “Lily is the little girl. She, uh, lives here.”

  The man shakes his head. “No, miss. She does not live here. But for some reason, that mother of hers tells everyone that they do.”

  I’m too confused to say anything. The man’s expression softens. Instead of looking angry, he looks grumpy. I think that is an improvement.

  “I chatted with that woman for ten minutes last summer while I was out gardening,” he says. “Next thing I knew, she was giving out this address and coming by to pick up her mail. I should be charging her for every piece of mail I’ve taken in for her.”

  This doesn’t make any sense. “Do you know where they really live?”

  The man grumbles some more, then limps off down the hall. When he limps back, he is holding a piece of paper. “That woman—the mother—gave this to me about a month ago. She had the nerve to ask me to forward a parcel she was waiting for.” He thrusts the paper into my hand. “Since you’re going to see her, take this with you. And tell her I’m done forwarding her mail.”

  I take the paper. “Thank you, Mr.—”

  “Cormigan. Charlie Cormigan.”

  “Thanks. I’ll tell her.”

  Before I pedal away, I take another look at the address on the paper. Something about it sounds familiar. Where have I heard those numbers before?

  It hits me once I get pedaling again. Those are the numbers Lily kept saying when we practiced her address. That explains why Lily was so confused. The numbers I was teaching her don’t match the numbers she sees on her house every day. Now I am furious. The address I taught her won’t help her if she ever gets lost.

  Again I count street numbers and avenues. I am getting close to Lily’s street. With their crooked porches and peeling paint and cracked windowpanes, many of these houses look as rough as the ones that Mom and I have lived in over the years.

  “Watch out!”

  I brake hard. Even still, I nearly hit the little dog that has bolted into the road. Then I realize I’m looking at a familiar face.

  Aaron reaches down and picks up the dog. Two little boys are staring at us from the front yard.

  “Sorry about that,” Aaron says. “Kermit just slipped out of the house.”

  “Kermit?”

  “Yeah. And that sure isn’t the name I would have chosen.”

  The little boys tumble down the front yard, their arms outstretched.

  “Take him straight into the house,” Aaron says.

  As they walk up the driveway, the taller boy holds Kermit tightly.

  “Must be one of Aaron’s girlfriends,” the smaller boy says.

  “Yeah,” says the other, “One of those who keeps phoning.”

  My face burns as Aaron and I pretend we didn’t hear. I’d bet a thousand bucks they were talking about the Runway Girls.

  “Are those your brothers?” I ask.

  Aaron nods.

  “Oh. So that’s how you know so much about working with little kids.”

  Aaron looks confused. “Oh. You mean with Yuri.” Loud voices and laughter echo from inside the house. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve got one more little brother inside too.”

  “Wow. It’s just me and my mom at my place.”

  “Sounds quiet,” Aaron says with a laugh.

  I nod. “Sometimes it’s too quiet. Mom works a lot of funny hours.”

  Neither of us says anything for a few seconds.

  “So you’re out for a bike ride?” Aaron asks.

  “Yeah. I’m riding to Lily’s place.” I hold out my hand. “She gave me this ring. I thought it was costume jewelry, but it’s real, like, a wedding ring.”

  “Really?”

  Aaron holds my hand to look at it. I feel myself blushing. I’ve got the ring on my left hand, too, like a real wedding ring. How stupid must that look?

  Aaron shrugs. “It just looks like, I don’t know, like a ring to me.”

  “Me too,” I say. “But my mom knows a lot about jewelry. She says it’s the real thing. Lily probably didn’t know it was valuable. I’m heading to her house to give it back.”

  Aaron looks confused. “I heard her address when you were practicing in class. Isn’t it over on Seventy-First A Avenue?”

  I pull the slip of paper out of my pocket and look at it again. “Yeah, but that wasn’t Lily’s real address.” I tell Aaron what Mr. Cormigan said. “So I spent all that time teaching Lily the wrong address. She actually lives three blocks away from here.”

  “Aaron!” One of his brothers is calling from the front door. “It’s your girlfriends on the phone!”

  Aaron looks over his shoulder. “Tell them I’m not here.”

  “Too late. I already said you were out in the front yard,” he says, “talking to another girlfriend.”

  If I were braver, I would say that I’m not another girlfriend. But it hits me that nobody asked Aaron if he wants to be the class heartthrob. I always assumed guys enjoy being adored by junior high girls. Maybe I’m wrong about that. Especially when the girls are super pushy, like the Runway Girls are.

  “Guess I need to go,” Aaron says. “See ya.”

  I hear the noise bursting from Aaron’s house until I turn the corner. What would it be like living in the loudest house in the neighborhood?

  It sounds like fun.

  Chapter Seven

  I know immediately that I have the right address this time. Lily’s mom is outside by her van.

  I have hardly stepped off my bike when Lily rushes out of the house. “Simone! Simone!”

  I set the bike down as Lily throws herself at me, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. I glance at Lily’s mom. It’s hard to tell what kind of mood Rachel is in today. Happy?

  I take one more glance. No, definitely not happy. I had better keep this short.

  I pull the ring from my finger and hold it out. “Lily gave this to me yesterday. I didn’t know until last night that it’s a real ring. Like, maybe a wedding ring. I brought it back as soon as I could.”

  Lily swallows hard. I hope I’m not getting her in trouble.

  “Remember, Mommy, when you said you didn’t like it? That you wished you never even saw it? That’s why I gave it to Simone.”

  Rachel smiles, and her anger dissolves. “Thank you for returning this, Simone. And I’m sorry you caught us in such disarray. If there was a choice, we wouldn’t be living here.”

  “Yeah,” Lily pipes up. “But soon, we will have a pretty new house. Won’t we, Mommy?”

  My heart sinks. “You’re moving?”

  Lily nods. “Yes. To a pretty new house with flowers and a
swing set. And we’ll have dolphins to swim with,” Lily continues, “and sand castles to build and waves to jump in.”

  “Don’t worry,” Rachel says. “Lily likes to talk that way sometimes.” She turns back toward Lily. “We have fun dreaming about those things, don’t we?”

  Rachel’s eyes land on the ring again. “Thanks again for returning this, Simone. You’re right about it being my wedding ring. Lily must have found it in my dresser.”

  Rachel smiles at Lily. “Why don’t you go get a juice box? You can get one for Simone too.”

  Lily grabs my hand and pulls me toward the house. Through the front window, I see boxes and suitcases with clothing and paper spilling out of them. There’s an overflowing box of pink clothing. It’s probably stuff that Lily has outgrown. Maybe they’re collecting things for a garage sale.

  We’re about to step inside when Rachel calls out, “Lily, you go ahead. I’d like to chat with Simone for a moment.”

  It occurs to me that maybe Rachel is embarrassed about their messy house. I want to tell her that Mom and I have lived in way crappier places. That might make things worse, though, so I don’t say anything.

  “You probably had a hard time finding us,” Rachel says.

  “Mr. Cormigan gave me your address. I showed up there first. By mistake.”

  “I thought that might have been the case.” She motions toward their house. “The truth is, this house is the best I can do. Lily’s dad usually misses his child-support payments. But somehow Blake still finds time to swing by and harass me. That’s why I’ve been using a false address—to keep Blake at arm’s length.”

  Slowly the pieces start fitting together. The fake address, Rachel’s mood swings, her visits to the school. I feel bad for wondering about her. What Rachel says next makes me feel even worse.

  “It’s been months since Lily had any contact with Blake. The last time was back in July.”

  “So he hasn’t even talked to Lily in over three months?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Given my father’s disappearing act, I don’t have a great opinion of dads to start with. Anger spreads like a massive heat wave across my face. It nearly chokes me.

  “I should be used to it by now,” Rachel says, “but it’s been a hard day. I’m glad I didn’t tell Lily that her dad was supposed to meet her at the park this morning.”

  Just then Lily bursts out of the kitchen door. She has two juice boxes in her hands and a big smile across her face. Even though she doesn’t know her dad bailed on her today, I decide to make this a fun day for her anyway.

  For the next two hours, we pile leaves and fling them into the air. We play Hula-Hoop and hopscotch. We sing Lily’s favorite songs, and we dance across the yard. By the time I leave, I have done my best to make up for my little buddy’s deadbeat dad.

  Chapter Eight

  I’m definitely getting better at managing leadership class. It’s Curriculum Night, and I avoided the jobs that involve public speaking. In fact, I landed a great job—setting up a day care in the band room. Parents can leave their younger kids here so they can listen to the teachers without getting interrupted. I volunteered to do this as soon as Ms. Boyd mentioned it. Fiona signed up to work in the day care too.

  Fiona and I collected the art supplies, hauled stacks of library books into the room and pitched Fiona’s tent for the kids to play in. We also have a Twister game and a sand table. The band teacher wasn’t happy about the sand table. He told us we would have to vacuum the whole room for hours if anyone tipped sand on to the carpet. We promised to patrol that center extra closely.

  Ms. Boyd passes through for an inspection. She doesn’t actually praise us, but I’ve learned it’s good when she doesn’t say anything. I have almost forgiven her for telling Mrs. Mankowski that I need to make friends with kids my own age. I’m still not making any headway on that. I mostly don’t think about it though.

  Kids have started trickling into the room. Fiona and I move from one center to the next, showing them what to do. Then we tidy the center when a group leaves. I keep expecting Fiona to ditch me and take off after the Runway Girls. But so far, she hasn’t. That surprises me.

  I’m not surprised that Lily has already found me. As usual, she is sticking as closely as possible to me. We draw about a dozen pictures at the easel. She insists they are all for me. She writes her usual message at the bottom of each. Hi Simone. I love you. From Lily. Her tongue is between her teeth as she clutches the pencil.

  “Lily, don’t you want to play with your friends at the other centers?” I ask.

  Lily shakes her head, her eyes on her pink sandals.

  “What’s up, buddy? You look sad.”

  “You know how Chloe’s birthday party is this weekend?”

  “Yes,” I say. “It’s going to be fun!” Chloe’s mom has hired me to be a birthday-party assistant, so I’ll be there too. I didn’t see this job coming at all. That makes it extra special.

  “Well, Mommy still hasn’t bought the purple pony. I promised Chloe I would get her the pony with the mane that you comb and braid.”

  “Maybe your mom hasn’t had time to go shopping yet.”

  Lily shakes her head. “She said I won’t need a gift.”

  That’s strange. Chloe’s mom read me the guest list a few days ago. Lily’s name is definitely on it.

  Lily looks like her whole world hinges on getting the purple pony for Chloe. I remember about Lily’s dad not paying his child support. Maybe Lily’s mom can’t afford a present. That’s happened to me before.

  I’m about to tell Lily that we can make a necklace for Chloe when her face lights up. She flies across the room with her arms outstretched. “Daddy! You’re here! You’re here!”

  The tall man at the door smiles. His curly brown hair falls across his face as he bends to pick Lily up. “Of course I’m here.”

  My face burns. I feel like throwing fistfuls of sand into his eyes. How dare he say that? If he wants to spend time with Lily so badly, where was he on the weekend?

  He turns toward me. “I’m Blake,” he says. “You must be Simone. My little ballerina–vet has told me so much about you.”

  I am too furious to answer.

  Thankfully, Lily speaks up. “Do you want to see the pictures me and Simone painted tonight?”

  “Sure.”

  Lily points to the easel behind me.

  “Hey, you’re both wearing your green necklaces!”

  “Yes! Take my picture in front of it, Daddy!”

  I notice that Blake has a camera case hanging from his shoulder.

  “Daddy takes really good pictures, Simone,” Lily says. “Come into the picture with me.”

  “That’s okay,” I say. “You go ahead.”

  But Lily insists. While Blake adjusts the settings, I try to unclench my jaw.

  Blake doesn’t take the picture right away. I’m sure he’s waiting for me to smile. Eventually he snaps a few, then puts his camera away.

  “Why don’t you show me what else you’ve been doing tonight?”

  Lily takes her dad’s hand and shows him around the room. I pretend to organize the books at the reading center. I slam the books onto the table. I imagine myself whacking Blake upside the head with each one.

  “Do you need any help, Simone?”

  I had forgotten all about Fiona. “No. I’m fine. Just fine.”

  “Sorry. I was only asking.”

  Rachel walks into the room a few minutes later. She turns pale, and her smile freezes when her eyes land on Blake.

  When Lily sees her mom’s face, she shies away from Blake. She comes to me and leans heavily against my legs.

  Blake turns toward Rachel. “I’m glad I made it here tonight. My newsletters somehow got diverted. It’s go
od I checked the school’s online message board.”

  Rachel shakes her head and turns her back on him. I don’t blame her.

  Thank goodness Blake soon leaves. Rachel stays in the room for the next half hour. I wonder if she is waiting to see that Blake has really left.

  “Lily, I need to go talk to your teacher again in the library,” Rachel says.

  “Okay. I’ll stay here with Simone.”

  We are playing in the tent when Rachel returns to the classroom minutes later.

  “Mommy, can’t I play some more with—”

  She sees the thundercloud expression on her mom’s face and stops talking. At that moment, the principal comes over the PA system. He announces that Curriculum Night is officially over, and he thanks everyone for coming.

  “You’d better get going,” I tell Lily. “I need to clean up in here.”

  “Okay!” Lily gives me a hug, then follows her mom out the door.

  Chapter Nine

  Mom beams as I get ready for Chloe’s birthday party on Sunday. She makes a big deal about me getting this job all by myself.

  I glance at the clock. “Gotta run!”

  When I get to Chloe’s house, I hang up some pony decorations. I also set out the party hats and plates and napkins. Chloe is dancing with excitement. I painther fingernails, and she introduces me to all of her stuffed toys. Her cake is supposed to be a surprise, but I let her peek into the box.

  Her friends start to arrive. Every time the doorbell rings, I expect to hear Lily’s voice. But twenty minutes later, Lily is the only guest who is not here. Chloe’s mom looks nervously at her watch. With the living room full of bouncy kindergarten kids, she can’t hold off any longer. I listen for Lily as I lead the kids in a game of pass-the-parcel.

  When everyone has a toy to play with, I slip into the kitchen to phone Lily. It sounds like somebody picks up the phone on the second ring. Then the phone goes dead.

  “Simone,” Chloe’s mom says as she steps into the kitchen, “the kids want you to play hide-and-seek.”

  They cheer as I step back into the room.

  “Come hide with me, Simone,” Grace says.