“Actually, I don’t,” said Cree. “We don’t have any at my house.”
Husband. That was interesting. She and Uncle Jake? Why didn’t Davy say so?
Cree had never been inside a mobile home. It was like a real house, compact and cozy. She was in the living room, with an open kitchen on her right and a hall going off to the left. Two sofas faced each other, taking up much of the floor space. Next to one of them was a small TV.
The whole place had a faint smell that reminded her of something. Maybe Olive’s house. She sniffed, trying to identify it.
“The phone’s over there.” Lina pointed to a counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. On its cluttered surface was a landline phone.
“This is so kind of you.” Cree wished the blinds on the front windows were open. Maddie could walk right past and she wouldn’t know.
She pressed her home number and heard it ring. Lina puttered in the kitchen, then stood by, breathing heavily.
Next to the phone were several issues of The Chronicle and a bunch of overripe bananas. Their fragrance mingled with the other smell.
The ringing stopped. The answering machine answered. As she waited for the beep, Cree noticed something else on the counter.
Something she knew well.
Chapter Twenty-three
Maddie fumed. Where would Cree have gone?
Could Ben have come along and picked her up and they left without Maddie? She didn’t think Ben would be so vindictive, no matter how angry. This time she must have crossed the line.
It really was stupid to go and look at those horses. She hadn’t figure on more than a minute. What was she thinking? She had to get to Lakeside immediately.
She was armed and ready, with the clipboard she had slipped out of Cree’s bag without her noticing. Cree was busy looking at the—
The trailer? Whatever for? She didn’t even know that person very well. Maybe she remembered something she saw on her afternoon there with Ben. But why was it taking so long?
Maddie had forgotten all about Fall Break. Right through next Wednesday. Payton would be leaving any minute, if he hadn’t already. Why ever did she bother with the stupid horses?
Sorry, horses. We know who’s the stupid one.
If only she had known Kelsey was stuck inside with a stupid cold, she could have brought her car. She should have anyway. Why would Kelsey even notice?
She opened her cell. If Ben refused, she would call a taxi. This was getting ridiculous.
Curses! Low battery. She had a recharger that worked in her car but she didn’t have her car. For lack of brains, Maddie was # 1.
She tried to calm herself and think. Walking would take forever and it looked like rain. Even if she made it home in two-inch heels and picked up her car, Payton would be long gone.
She couldn’t ask to use Kelsey’s phone. What about the trailer? If Cree was there, so much the better. She tripped and stumbled down its driveway and knocked on the door.
No one answered, even with the splotchy car there. She was wasting time. Once Payton left, he wouldn’t be back for almost a week and they were drawing up charges.
There was something she could do. It was insane, but she had to try it.
Pressured by time, and the chance that Kelsey might see her if she hiked around by the road, she pushed through briars and branches. It wasn’t as bad as she’d expected, but not so good for the borrowed suit. She emerged onto the grassy slope in back of Kelsey’s house.
The paddock held two horses, a large black one and Kelsey’s palomino. For two summers when they were younger, she and Ben took riding lessons. She had never ridden bareback. How did a person get up there without stirrups? They did it in Westerns. They sort of jumped.
She looked over at the house. Even its upstairs windows were largely hidden by trees. It was nice of them to be oak trees, which kept many of their leaves until spring.
Madelyn Canfield, horse thief. She opened the paddock gate.
The palomino trotted over to her, probably expecting a treat. It would serve Kelsey right if Maddie took her horse. She would have to anyway. The other one was just too big.
Now for that jump. Even this horse looked impossibly tall. She couldn’t do a running jump without letting go of the halter. And she was wearing heels. Didn’t cowboy boots usually have heels? How did they do it?
She led him to the fence and climbed backward onto the lowest rail. Her foot slipped. She barely caught herself. She hoped Kelsey was in bed and not looking out a window, even with trees in the way. Or coming out to feed the horses.
Without a saddle, it was hard to get a grip on the animal. She didn’t want to pull its mane or tug on the halter. She reached her arms around its neck as far as she could, and sprang.
No good. She couldn’t haul herself up. The horse stamped its impatience.
“Sorry, guy,” she told it. “I’m not really a thief. I’ll bring you back. You have to understand, this is very important. Thanks to your neurotic owner, we have a lot of damage to undo.”
Once more, and this time she had better get it right. She psyched herself. Over and over, she pictured leaping successfully onto the horse. She gathered all her strength, then realized her shoes might fall off. To pick them up she would have to dismount, and she couldn’t leave them there. She tucked them into her shoulder bag that now held the clipboard, and began the psyching process all over again.
And go.
She was up! On the horse. It felt strange without stirrups to hold her feet. And lumpy without a saddle.
“If I can feel lumps,” she said, “it must be worse for you. Sorry about my butt bones.”
A nudge from her heel started them moving. What if Kelsey saw her and called the police? Maddie would give them an earful. Blow the whole thing wide open, with the clipboard to back her up. And that man at the newspaper—she would tell him everything. The whole world would know what a lunatic Kelsey was, and Payton, too. If she could manage it without mentioning Ben by name.
Even on grass, the horse’s hooves made a hollow thump. When they reached pavement, the hooves clopped. She felt a million eyes watching from the house.
At Fremont, she dared a quick look back. The house was silent, with no sign of Kelsey running down the driveway, screaming. No police sirens coming up from the village.
Not even Cree. That black car was still at the trailer, but no Cree. She may have started walking, thinking Maddie had gone without her. Why would she think that?
“Good boy.” She patted the horse’s neck and urged it to a trot. After she finished with Payton she would stop at home and give the horse an apple or two or three.
Ben would guess where she’d been and he would be furious. Not only would he feel threatened, he was obsessive about doing the right and legal thing even if it worked against him. Were Kelsey and Payton being right and legal? Not even rational.
Cars passed. She dreaded that it might be someone she knew. She still had on the wig and sunglasses and hoped it was enough disguise.
At every bend she expected to overtake Cree plodding along. She couldn’t still be at the trailer. Might she have gone back to Kelsey’s house, thinking she left her clipboard? Would she dare? Then why didn’t she come out again?
They were nearing Velda Sheehan’s red tile roof. What if Velda popped out to collect her mail and saw the horse? What if she came along in her green Volkswagen? Maddie urged a faster trot.
And faster still. It was imperative that she catch Payton before he left. She had no idea where he lived and hadn’t found him in the phone book. Even worse, he might be going away for Fall Break.
After what seemed forever, they approached her own house. She was glad of the curving drive and all the rhododendrons. If Ben saw the horse passing by, he might think it was Kelsey. Blond hair, but not the right style or shade.
His truck was barely visible through the bushes. He’d have had plenty of time to pick up Cree, take her home, and come back. She couldn�
��t stop and deal with him now.
Another three-quarters of a mile and the lake came into view. And then the school.
The sight of it gave her qualms. What was she doing, confronting the high and mighty Payton? She really did want to stick it to him, or at least make him understand that Kelsey, not Ben, was the problem. But for just a second, she felt like a frightened child.
The moment passed. Payton knew all about Ben’s autism. If he didn’t understand how it could affect a person, how differently they saw and felt the world, he was too stupid to be headmaster of anything.
His dark blue SUV was still in the parking lot. She wasn’t too late. She dismounted and tied the horse to the flagpole. The flag had already been taken down.
“Sorry, guy. This won’t give you much headroom, but I’ll be quick. Unless they have me arrested.”
She took off her wig, ran a comb through her hair, and started toward the entrance.
The door opened. Evan Steffers came out accompanied by a woman who might have been his mother. Or possibly a lawyer. He should be needing one about now.
The door opened again. A man came out carrying a briefcase.
Evan gave Maddie a ferocious glare. “I’ll get you for this.”
“You’ll get me?” she said in a carrying voice. “What will it be this time, another black eye? You’ve done them both already.”
The woman made a point of ignoring her. If she were a lawyer, she’d have shut Evan up. The man with the briefcase stopped to watch.
Maddie reached the door and found it locked.
She pounded, hoping the custodian was nearby. “Henry! Open up!”
Evan snickered. Once more the door swung open. Henry, with the curly gray hair and ready smile, held it for her. “Hey, there. I thought you left us.”
“I did. Thanks, Henry, it’s nice to see you.” She hurried inside and tried to pull the door closed, when someone took it from her. It was the man with the briefcase. He followed her to Payton’s office.
The secretary was still there, clearing her desk before vacation. She looked up, startled.
Maddie said, “Hi, Jeanette. I need to see Mr. Payton. Right now.” She didn’t wait for permission but walked past Jeanette through Payton’s open door.
He was a youngish man with a drooping face that didn’t register surprise at the intrusion, only displeasure.
“Mr. Payton.” Maddie shoved aside the guest chair and stood in its place. The man with the briefcase came in behind her.
“It seems to me,” Maddie said, “that the entire system, beginning with Kelsey Fritz, grossly overreacted to whatever Ben did. He never meant any harm. He never was a threat or did anything malicious. He only wanted a friend. As you know, people like him have a—”
The briefcase man pulled over the chair and gestured to it. “Please. Make yourself comfortable.”
“Thanks.” Maddie refused to take it. “Don’t let me keep you standing.”
That startled him, but he sat down with the briefcase on his lap. He had mutton-chop whiskers just like the cartoon Ben had drawn.
Payton said, “This is Madelyn Canfield, the sister of Bennett Canfield.” He didn’t bother introducing the man.
Maddie continued. “As you know, people on the autism spectrum tend to be socially impaired. They have a hard time making friends. Ben thought he found one, someone he felt at ease with. He thought they were getting along when suddenly, with no explanation, she froze up. He wanted to know why, but she wouldn’t tell him. He wanted to fix it and have everything nice again. When something goes off balance it really upsets him. That’s common with people like Ben. Their life is hard enough without extra bumps. They try to fix it but don’t know when to stop because they can’t see the effect they’re having on other people. They can’t help the way they are. It’s part of them, just like you having gray eyes.”
Payton’s eyes made her think of a dead fish.
“Miss Canfield,” said the briefcase man.
Because he was seated, she could look down on him. “You are Mr. Yeager, I’m guessing?”
“That is correct.” He bowed his head. “It’s a pleasure, Miss Canfield.”
If so, it was all his.
He cleared his throat. “Miss Canfield, you must understand that sexual harassment is a serious offence.”
The floor gave way. “Sexual? Harassment?”
Ben never said anything like that. And Ben didn’t whitewash the facts.
She kept her voice steady. “I would like to know exactly what happened.” The room went on spinning.
Their story was essentially the same as Ben’s, without his take on what he was thinking. Kelsey, whom Yeager called the “young lady,” had wanted nothing to do with Ben but he persisted, trying to get her alone. He bombarded her with letters, which she saved as evidence, with emails and with phone calls even though her number was unlisted.
Maddie gripped the edge of the desk. “Were any of those letters and messages of a sexual nature?”
“Not explicitly so,” Yeager replied. “But he did want to see her alone.”
“Of course he did. This was personal. Why would he want a bunch of people listening in? Did he say anything of a sexual nature? Did he say anything to humiliate or embarrass her? Did he try to touch her? Make any sexual advances or innuendoes?”
“She was frightened and upset by his persistence.”
“I can believe it. She’s very timid and has problems of her own. Any normal person would answer his questions and have done with it. In Ben’s case, and with others like him, things have to be spelled out. That’s autism, it’s not their fault. I can see where it might count as harassment. You can chalk that up to the Asperger’s, if you know anything about it, which you should in your position, Mr. Payton. But it doesn’t strike me as sexual. As a female, I would be sensitive to that. Don’t you people know what sex is?”
She was glad they didn’t laugh, and went on quickly.
“The way I see it, sexual harassment is intentional. It’s hostile. It’s meant to humiliate and degrade women. Things like propositioning them. Grabbing at their body parts. Making slimy remarks and dirty jokes. Ben did nothing like that and he never would.”
She wondered if there was a legal definition. Even so, it made no sense to apply it to Ben.
Yeager started to speak. Maddie cut him off.
“I know he made a pest of himself. He understands that now and he never meant to do it. Whatever he did, it wasn’t sexual. He planned a nice evening with movies and pizza. It was the first time he ever asked a girl out. For some reason she got all upset and she wouldn’t say why. In his clumsy way he wanted to make things right again. Autistic people have this problem where it’s hard for them to understand where the other person is coming from. And I would like to emphasize once again, they can’t help it.”
She talked fast to keep them from interrupting. She tried not to think of the horse, whether it was still out there. Anyone could untie it from the flagpole.
“You really ought to study up on autism,” she told Payton. “A person in your position. Ben can’t be the only kid with Asperger’s. I know they might abolish that term and call it social disability. By its very name, that’s also a disability. You should know they have a problem reading facial expressions and verbal subtext.”
She was quoting from books. She had read a lot of them. So had the rest of her family, including Ben.
Surprisingly, she no longer felt intimidated. She actually enjoyed telling off these people and hoped it would do some good. Even though she hadn’t yet gotten to her main point.
She planted her hands on the desk and leaned toward Payton. “You know what? Kelsey has problems of her own, but it’s nothing to do with Ben. He’s only a scapegoat.”
She debated whether to tell them Kelsey’s problem was only a dream. As Cree said, if it had that much impact, it might well have been inspired by something real. She told them what the “investigator” had learned.
“She’s a psychologist, a completely independent and neutral person. And she wasn’t hired, she volunteered.”
Cree hadn’t exactly volunteered. But she did a good job.
“In all the time I’ve known Kelsey—” Maddie hadn’t known her well, but she knew enough about her, “she’s never had much to do with boys. Some people thought she might be gay.” There must have been others besides Cree who thought so. “It’s not that. She’s just scared. Most guys know to leave her alone but Ben really liked her. He wanted to help her, whatever the problem was. But just because he’s male and seemed to be getting close, she panicked. Is that his fault? Another person might have known to back off, but Ben has that social disability that he never asked for. You’re punishing him for a condition he was born with. I think the real problem is, you just want him out of here because he’s different.”
Payton flinched at the accusation.
“And that difference,” she said, “makes people uncomfortable because they don’t understand it. Well, guess what. He doesn’t understand you either. But he tries his best and he has a lot to offer if he’s given a chance.”
Payton rocked back in his swivel chair and regarded Maddie with dead fish eyes. “You say that dream about the flasher happened several years ago. If it upset her that much, why didn’t she get help?”
“I can’t speak for her,” Maddie said, “but I agree she should have. I know she never told her parents, only her sister. Kelsey may have felt ashamed and tried to bury it. Then Ben came along and stirred up a hornets’ nest he never knew was there.”
Payton, idly twiddling a pencil, broke it in half. Breaking Ben in half? Breaking himself for his rush to judgment?
Maddie kept up her attack. “So you can see, what Kelsey says is only part of the picture. You really ought to consider the whole of it before you go ahead with your charges. It should be enough that he’s promised never to bother her again and he even changed schools. But it isn’t enough, is it? You have this need to crucify him. You want to keep going until you destroy his whole future. Ruin any chance of him getting into college or finding a job. And furthermore—”
Twenty Minutes Late Page 18