Burn Girl

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Burn Girl Page 18

by Mandy Mikulencak


  The officers sat down at the counter so I turned back to my stepfather. “Please. Please just leave town. I won’t tell Frank or the police that we met.”

  “I’m not leaving without fifty-K.”

  “Fifty thousand?” The warmth of the dining room brought on a wave of nausea. “I can’t get at Frank’s money, especially that amount.”

  “You’re a smart girl, Arlie. Or else you and your worthless mother would never have survived so long. I’m confident you’ll figure something out.”

  The tears came now and I didn’t care what Lloyd thought. She’d nursed him back to health, not me. She could have ended it … a pillow over his face. That simple. Maybe he was right. She loved him to the end.

  “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re not going to the police, and you’re not going to say a word to your little friend or your uncle or that hag from the motel. Just get the money and text me where to meet you. Understood?”

  “I’m telling you I can’t. I won’t,” I said.

  “This can be easy or this can be hard. Your choice.” My stepfather put on his sunglasses and exited through the side door of the restaurant.

  Only after he left did his words sink in. He warned me not to talk to the “hag from the motel.” Did he mean Dora? If he’d seen her, why wouldn’t she have told me?

  As the waitress delivered the meals to the table, I pushed past her and ran from the restaurant. School would have to wait. I needed information before I could determine my next move.

  When I reached Dora’s motel room, she answered the door wearing a tattered robe and large wool socks pulled up over her calves. She looked as if she’d just woken up, but it was already nine. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you in school?” she asked.

  I pushed past her into the motel room. It smelled of coffee and cigarettes. How long until the scent of things didn’t surprise me?

  Dora closed the door behind us. “What is it?”

  “My stepfather’s in Durango. I just saw him.”

  She groped for the back of the chair and sat down. “Lloyd’s back? Did he hurt you?”

  “You know him?”

  Dora pointed at the other chair, signaling for me to sit down. “I don’t know him. I met him only the one time.”

  “The day Mom died, right?” My knee popped up and down as I braced for her answer.

  She nodded. Everything about her looked tired and apologetic, as if coming clean added years to her age.

  My heart ached as I put together the pieces. “I asked you point-blank if anyone was with Mom the day she died. You made me believe she left me on purpose when Lloyd murdered her.”

  “I don’t think he killed her,” she said.

  “But you just—”

  “I said he was here the Sunday she died, but she was alive when I saw them. They were shouting at each other. I stopped and asked if she needed help. When I threatened to call the police, she yelled for me to mind my own business.”

  “Did you see him leave?”

  “I did. Then your mom wanted to talk to me.”

  Dora said Mom had been frantic. “She rambled on about the explosion and stealing money to take care of you. She said he wanted the two of you back in Albuquerque. She lied to him and said you’d run away a long time ago. That you were probably living in Texas with your uncle.”

  I stood, hands on my head, trying to stop the internal chatter. I felt assaulted by the lies and half-truths that had been told for my own good.

  “You knew about Frank too?”

  Dora moved to put her arms around me, but I shoved her away.

  “She asked me not to tell you unless something happened to her,” Dora said. “She was afraid you’d leave her.”

  Would I have? I’d tried to once and changed my mind, but I didn’t know anymore. I couldn’t keep track of the things I was learning about my mother’s past, but in my gut, they all felt like betrayals. Choices she made to protect herself and Lloyd instead of me.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked. “Why did you let me get sucked into foster care when Frank could have been contacted sooner?”

  “At that point, would you have welcomed the life you have now?” she shot back. Angry tears flowed.

  I didn’t know the answer, but she’d never given me the chance to find out.

  “I would have told you, Arlie. I swear,” she said. “But then you showed up that night to tell me about the funeral. When you mentioned your uncle, I figured it was best not to say anything. It would have only upset you.”

  “You were selfish,” I said. “Just like my mom.”

  Then I remembered Mom’s notebook. Dora will know what to do. She’d counted on her friend to tell me about my uncle, to help me start a new life away from Durango.

  Dora wept freely now. Her stooped shoulders shook while her arms hung at her sides. She no longer tried to hug me.

  “I got to get out of here,” I said.

  “Wait. Please. What does your stepfather want?” she asked. “Are you all right?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ll handle Lloyd.”

  “Please go to the police,” she begged.

  My phone beeped several times, alerting me to texts. Frank. He was at the school, wondering where I was and why I wasn’t answering any calls.

  “I have to go. Frank found out I skipped school this morning,” I said. “Don’t you dare call the cops, Dora.”

  I grabbed my backpack and ran from her room, not knowing whether she’d listen to me or not.

  The school secretary had called Frank when I didn’t show up for first and second periods. He’d run into Mo in the hallway and was standing with her near the front steps of the school when I got there.

  “You promised Frank you wouldn’t go off by yourself. You said you’d stay safe.” Mo was beyond pissed. I could tell she’d been crying. Fine strands of hair still clung to the cheeks she’d failed to wipe.

  “Why wouldn’t I be safe?” I couldn’t look them in the eye so I held up my hand as if squinting against the sun.

  “You go AWOL and we’re not supposed to wig out?” Frank worked hard to keep his anger in check, but he was clearly as upset as Mo.

  “I had an early therapy appointment,” I lied. “Jane couldn’t see me at our regular time this week.”

  “Why didn’t you tell somebody?” Frank asked. “The school obviously didn’t know. And neither did Mo. Then you didn’t answer your phone.”

  A headache banged like a drum section behind my eyes. Lying was hard to stomach, but I wasn’t about to disobey Lloyd’s instructions to keep quiet. “My phone was off during my appointment. I thought I’d left the note from Jane at the school office, but I’d accidentally stuck it in between the pages of one of my textbooks,” I said.

  “From now on, the phone stays on twenty-four seven. And you let me know where you are and where you’ll be,” Frank demanded.

  “I said I was sorry. I promise it won’t happen again. Can we just talk about this after school? I’ve missed two classes and don’t want to miss calculus.”

  Mo wrapped her hair into a tight ponytail and wiped her face with her sleeve. “She’s right. We should get back to class.”

  Frank nodded and said he’d pick me up from school after choral. I’d scared him enough this morning that he wouldn’t let Mo drive me anywhere. She and I waved as he got in his Suburban and left the school parking lot.

  I removed my hoodie and let it drop to the ground. My sweaty T-shirt clung to my chest and back, so I pulled the bottom edge away to let in the cool air. I shivered like someone with the flu—hot, then cold, unable to control the shakes.

  “You look like you’ve been crying. What’d you and Jane talk about?” Mo picked up my hoodie and handed it to me.

  “Just the usual. Mostly Lloyd. And how worried Frank has been.” I wrapped the hoodie around my waist and bent to retie the laces on my sneakers to avoid looking at Mo.

  “Yeah, Frank must be r
eally worried. So much so that he can’t tell when you’re lying.”

  I stood up slowly. “Lying?”

  “Oh, please. Are we really going to do this?”

  Sometimes I resented that Mo could see all of me. I had nowhere to hide.

  “You can’t tell anyone what I’m going to tell you,” I said.

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  The bell rang, giving me an hour in calculus to decide how much to share with Mo and how to deal with Lloyd. Brittany sat a few desks behind me, but I still heard her remark that I’d either run a marathon or forgotten to wear antiperspirant today. I stole a quick glance at the perspiration stains on my tee while two of her friends laughed.

  I couldn’t be bothered by their petty comments. Mo was the only thing on my mind. She’d made it clear she didn’t mind risking my friendship if it meant I’d be safe. She guessed I’d seen Lloyd earlier, but I hadn’t had time to say any more. I didn’t tell her he had stolen her phone or that he wanted me to steal money from Frank. Throughout class, I imagined she’d already gone to the police and that they’d be waiting for me in the hall. Thankfully, they weren’t.

  At lunch, I dodged Cody. I’d proven myself a terrible liar once today, but he seemed to believe that Mo had a boy problem needing my undivided attention. His playfulness and tender kiss did nothing to calm my nerves. I’d make it up to him when this was all over, but for now, lying was the only way to keep him safe.

  Mo rolled her eyes but played along. When Cody was finally out of earshot, she grabbed my elbow and dragged me toward the school parking lot.

  “I’ll drive you to the police department,” she said. “We can call Frank on the way.”

  “Whoa, whoa. You don’t even know what happened this morning.”

  “I have an idea and I’m mad as hell you didn’t take my advice when I said not to get involved.”

  “But I am involved. And now I’ve put you and Frank and Cody in danger as well. I want to handle things on my own.”

  Mo kept interrupting my attempts to explain the meeting with Lloyd. “Why didn’t you just run up to the policemen and scream for help? They could have had him right then and there.”

  “I thought he had a gun. I couldn’t risk people in the restaurant getting hurt.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell Frank once you were away from Lloyd?”

  How could I explain things to Mo when I couldn’t think straight? I needed water and food and aspirin. And I needed to get my emotions in check or I’d start screaming and never stop.

  “Please get off my back. Just for a minute. I’ve had a friggin’ terrible morning and I need some quiet so I can think.”

  Mo’s expression was granite hard. “I’m sorry, but a dangerous man is out there and you’re running out of time. He’s demanding money you don’t even have. You have to go to the police.”

  I tried to think of another option. Mo and Cody were safe as long as they stayed on campus. An officer was probably watching the trailer so Frank wasn’t in danger. The smart thing to do would be to call the police and wait for them in the principal’s office. Lloyd couldn’t touch me there.

  “Please call Frank.” Mo shook my shoulders, momentarily stopping the vertigo in my head.

  “I can’t.”

  “Then let’s tell my parents. They’ll know what to do.”

  “No! Your dad would say he was right all along, that all I am is trouble.”

  “This isn’t your fault. He won’t blame you.”

  I blamed myself. Mr. Mooney would have every right to do so too. Especially if he knew that Lloyd was close enough to his daughter to swipe her phone.

  “Then what’s your plan?” Mo grew impatient and I felt more pressured.

  When Mom and I first left Albuquerque, she couldn’t eat or sleep. Terrified that Lloyd would follow us, she let her fear creep into all our conversations and guide every move we made. I couldn’t be sucked into that kind of life again.

  Maybe I could trap Lloyd. Make him think I have his money. Illogical, TV-inspired scenarios filled my thoughts, but nothing grounded in reality would stick. I couldn’t tell Mo that all I really wanted was for him to admit he killed my mother. I don’t know how he did it, but I knew she hadn’t committed suicide, no matter what Dora said. He wasn’t the type to forgive and forget—especially when Mom betrayed him and stole almost everything he had left.

  “I don’t think he’ll hurt me, Mo. Let me handle it.”

  “Looks like a decision’s been made for you.” Mo pointed to the police car that slammed to a stop near the school’s entrance.

  Officer Daugherty and Detective Monroe emerged from the car and made their way up the front steps, obviously in a hurry. They hadn’t seen me.

  “Hey!” Mo called out. She yanked me in their direction, eager to finally get them involved.

  “Miss Betts, you need to come with us immediately.” The officers wasted no time with pleasantries. Detective Monroe’s face was pinched.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “We’ll explain in the car. Please come with us.”

  Monroe reached for my arm, but I jerked away. “No. Tell me what’s wrong. What’s happened?”

  “Your uncle’s in the hospital,” Officer Daugherty said. “It’s urgent that you come now.”

  “I’m going too,” Mo said. “I’ll call Mom when we get there.”

  “I need to know what happened.” Frank. Hospital. Urgent. My body seemed to float above the unfolding scene.

  “He suffered a severe head injury in an assault,” Monroe said. “He’s in the ER.”

  “Did he say who did it?” I didn’t have to ask though. Lloyd had gotten to him regardless of the steps the police took to protect us, but why? He said he’d give me a day to try to get money from Frank or the Mooneys.

  “Your uncle’s not conscious.” Officer Daugherty’s delivery couldn’t have been more emotionless.

  I made my way to the cruiser, not wanting to hear any excuses they could offer.

  “You said you’d keep us safe.”

  CHAPTER 27

  NINE YEARS AGO—NIGHT RUN

  Lloyd looked less scary when he was asleep. I sometimes put my face very close to his to see if he could feel me standing over him. He hardly ever woke up, which made me feel like a ghost. If I started to giggle, I’d run and hide so he wouldn’t find out I was messing with him again.

  Tonight, I poked his stomach.

  “Mom’s sick.” I spoke directly into his ear and he batted at me like I was a fly.

  “Tired … leave me alone.” He groaned and turned to face the back of the couch. His bare back was covered with skulls and snakes and other scary tattoos.

  I poked him again. “Mom’s not waking up.”

  “Go away, girl. Don’t make me tell you again.” He mumbled into the cushion.

  I stood and watched him, afraid to poke him one more time. But I couldn’t go back to Mom. She scared me more than Lloyd right now. After a while, he turned over again and opened his eyes.

  “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Not long,” I said.

  “What time is it? Go back to bed.”

  “It’s nighttime,” I said. “Mom’s sick. Please go see.”

  He stretched his arms above his head and yawned, then swung his legs around and sat up. I grabbed his hand and pulled with all my might.

  “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  He stumbled after me, still holding my hand. I pointed to Mom on the bed. “She won’t wake up. I shook her real hard.”

  Lloyd seemed suddenly very awake. He ran to the side of the bed and kept saying, “Sarah, Sarah,” over and over. He stuck two fingers in her mouth and scooped something out onto the bed where she had already thrown up.

  He put his ear very close to her nose, then lifted her off the bed. Mom’s arms flopped backward, and I was afraid he’d bump her head going through the doorway.

  “Get your shoes, mija. Now!


  I put on my fuzzy slippers. When I went back into the living room, Lloyd had already gone outside, but he’d left the front door open.

  “Wait for me!” I ran as fast as I could to catch up to them.

  He was at the car, trying to fit Mom in the backseat, but her arms and legs seemed to be in the way. I pushed around him to try to get in after her.

  “No, get in the front,” he said.

  “I can’t. Mom says I’m too small for the seat belt.”

  “Now, Arlie!”

  Lloyd grabbed my arm and hurried me to the other side of the car. One of my slippers fell off, but he wouldn’t let me pick it up. Once I was in the car, he slammed my door and went to his side.

  “What’s wrong with Mom?” I began to cry because I’d never seen Lloyd scared. “Where are we going?”

  “Your mama needs a doctor. Just shut up while I drive.”

  I tried to look around my seat to see if Mom was awake yet, but Lloyd pushed me back.

  “Don’t look,” he said.

  He wouldn’t let me hold his hand so I made myself into as small a ball as I could. My face was wedged near the door so that I could almost see Mom in the backseat. I smelled throw-up.

  I turned around and looked out my window. There were so many lights and so many sounds for the middle of the night. I watched the freeway lights whiz by until my tummy felt sick.

  When Lloyd turned the car too fast, Mom rolled partway into the floorboard. I tried to look again, but he pushed me back.

  The car came to a stop.

  “Stay here,” Lloyd said.

  He opened the backseat door and pulled Mom’s legs until she was almost all the way out. He then lifted her over his shoulder and carried her to the hospital entrance that had sliding glass doors. Carefully, he lowered her to the ground, his hand behind her head.

  Then he got back in the car.

  “What are you doing? You can’t leave her on the sidewalk!” I pounded my hands against the glass. “Mom! Mom, wake up!”

  A man and a woman rushed out of the hospital. They wore light blue pants and shirts, and white shoes. The woman pointed at our car as Lloyd drove away. The man was touching Mom.

 

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