Mom and Spirit hadn’t missed a day meeting me at the bus stop since my last major meltdown, but that didn’t stop me from worrying until I caught sight of them. The fear of losing Spirit began as soon as I sat down next to Maddie and the bus rolled away. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if Maddie and I were still friends. But I think she was torn between wanting to talk to me and not wanting to make the other girls mad at her, so she kept our conversations as brief as possible without being totally rude. I kind of understood her position. I mean maybe I would act the same way if she were the one who’d been ostracized by everyone, especially Lisa Lieber, who could be really mean when she didn’t get her way on absolutely everything. No one dared go against her. I could never understand why anyone liked her. She was very snooty and stuck up, as if she was better than everyone else. The funny thing was that she was the least-smartest girl in the “smart kids” group. But everyone treated her as though she was a queen—mostly because they didn’t want to be on her bad side.
The good news was that our year-end exams were behind us and the weekend was ahead. The bad news was that my test scores were bound to be awful, and I was seriously stressing over what that would do to my final grades. I’d had a very difficult time concentrating since the Rubello incident, and I couldn’t sleep through the night. I even forgot a few very important homework assignments and had all but abandoned the few chores I had at home. Mom tried to help me stay focused by keeping things as even-keeled as possible. She even stopped talking about taking Spirit on the lake or letting him off the leash, and she took over the responsibility of training him. This only made me worry more, as I was sure he was going to obey her and not me. It wasn’t something I was trying to do, but I seemed to spend every waking moment waiting for something bad to happen. My life had become a never-ending cycle of anxiety and fear, and I hoped with all my heart that it would end when summer break began.
“Just twenty-five more minutes,” I told myself as I looked at the clock in Mr. Wicket’s room. “Then I just have to get through the weekend, and there’ll only be two and a half more days until this nightmare will be over.”
Mr. Wicket leaned against his desk, listening as the class shared their plans for the summer. He was in a very cheerful mood, knowing this unusual school year would soon end for him as well as his students. But it wasn’t over yet.
“Mr. Wicket,” came Mrs. Olson’s voice over the intercom. “Would you please send Lily Johnson to the office? It’s not an emergency, but she should bring her backpack with her.”
Mr. Wicket walked over to the intercom and pushed a button before speaking. “Will do, Mrs. Olson. She’s on her way.” He quickly wrote out a hall pass as everyone in the class muttered and stared at me.
“What’s she done this time?” I heard Billy Gabershevski laugh above the din.
“That’s enough, Mr. Gabershevski. Unless you’d like a hall pass to the principal’s office, too.” Mr. Wicket was much kinder when he handed me the pass this time. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Lily. We’ll see you on Monday. Have a good weekend.” Then he gave me a halfhearted smile before turning everyone’s attention back to the vacation that was just two and a half days and twenty-three minutes away.
I walked quickly through the halls, certain something must be wrong at home.
I tried to figure out why I had been called to Rubello’s office, but I couldn’t come up with a single thing. It didn’t make sense. I hadn’t been late. I hadn’t needed a hall pass.
The book! I forgot to return the book!
Miss Finch was standing by Mrs. Olson’s desk when I burst through the door. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, and she had a strange smirk on her face. She didn’t say a word to me as I handed the pass to Mrs. Olson who said, “Everything’s okay, Lily. Nothing is wrong at home. Nothing to be concerned about. Mr. Rubello just needs to speak with you. It should only take a minute.” Miss Finch gloated as I walked past her toward Principal Rubello’s office, and Mrs. Olson gave her a very nasty look, which she ignored. “Just give it a little knock,” she said sweetly when I arrived at the closed door. “He’s expecting you.”
I only had to rap on the door once before I was beckoned in by the principal, who was not at all happy to see me. In fact, he was already very, very mad. “You don’t need to sit, Miss Johnson. What I have to say to you won’t take long.”
I immediately felt the need to confess and hoped it would make a difference in his mood. “I know I forgot to return the library book, Mr. Rubello. I didn’t do it on purpose, and I’m really sorry. I promise I’ll have it on Miss Finch’s counter first thing Monday morning with the two-day fine.”
Something I said set him off, and his reaction was far from what I’d hoped for.
“Miss Finch,” he snorted, “is irrelevant. But rules are rules. I would have thought you’d have learned your lesson from this one.”
“Yes, sir. I did learn my lesson. And I’m terribly sorry. Things have been a bit topsy-turvy lately. I’m not sure if I forgot to return the book or if I just forgot what day it is. But I won’t forget again. I promise.” My apology fell on deaf ears.
“So you’re telling me you don’t have the book?”
“No, sir. I don’t have the book.”
The fire in his eyes was blazing as he slammed his hand on the desk. “There cannot possibly be an excuse for not returning this particular book, Miss Johnson. I find it inconceivable that you would fly in the face of my authority and take the entire matter of obeying rules so lightly.”
I once again was left without a single clue as to why Mr. Rubello was unreasonably angry over something so minor. Then I remembered the comment he’d made about being privileged, and I said something that I wanted to say to him and Maddie and everyone else who mistakenly thought I was rich.
I said, “Mr. Rubello, please! I can bring the book back on Monday, but please don’t be mad at me. I’m not rich, Mr. Rubello. You don’t have to be jealous because I’m really not rich!”
You could have heard a pin drop. The principal’s face turned flaming red as his eyes grew as wide as saucers. He never took them off me as he straightened up very slowly and marched toward me with his hands locked behind his back.
“Jealous?” he asked just above a whisper. His eyebrows were raised as he peered down at me without moving his head. “You think I’m jealous of you, Miss Johnson?” He looked as if he smelled something vile as he strutted in a circle around me like a vulture eyeing his prey. “What do you have that I might be jealous of, Miss Johnson?” He continued walking as he listed the possibilities. “Might I be jealous of the big house you live in? Or the hundreds of acres that sit behind your pretentious iron gate?”
I began to say, “But I don’t—”
“Ha! Hardly!”
I froze.
“Or perhaps I should be jealous of the people you own or the way you control them with your threats of destroying their businesses and their very lives.”
“But I don’t—”
He stopped marching, folded his arms, and leaned toward me with vengeful eyes.
“Of course, you don’t, Miss Johnson. But I’m not speaking of you now, am I? I’m speaking of the very rich, very powerful Myrtle Robbins. The most hated woman in all the world. I’m speaking of the woman who believes she is above the law and above everyone in this town. Just like you believe you are above the rules. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it, Miss Johnson? You are just like her. There is absolutely no difference between you and your grandmother.”
“Grandmother?” I said, shaking my head back and forth. “Oh no, Mr. Rubello! Mrs. Robbins isn’t my grandmother. She just owns the estate where we live.”
“Don’t play with me, Miss Johnson. I’m hardly a fool. Do you think I’m the only one in this entire town who isn’t aware of who your father was? I can assure you, I am not. Your father was William Robbins, Myrtle Robbins’ son. And that, Miss Johnson, makes you Myrtle R
obbins’ granddaughter!”
My eyes searched his for a sign that he was joking. It was surely a horrible misunderstanding. My heart beat loudly in my chest, and I could scarcely breathe as he continued to rant.
“Which explains why you think you can get away with things others must pay for. And why you seem to believe—”
I dropped my backpack and ran toward the door. The principal called after me, as did Mrs. Olson, but the pounding in my head prevented me from hearing them. An icy sensation swept through my veins and poured from my forehead. I felt as though I was running in place as I raced outside toward my bus.
“Miss Johnson!” The principal’s voice echoed in my head as I beat against the bus door with my fists.
“Late again, Miss Lily,” the driver said.
I stumbled down the narrow aisle to my seat as the bus rolled slowly away. Mr. Rubello waved his arms wildly to get Mr. Little’s attention, but the driver had his eyes on the rearview mirror and didn’t see him.
“Buckle up, Miss Lily,” he said as soon as I slumped into my seat. Then he turned his attention to the road ahead as Mr. Rubello watched the bus drive out of the parking lot.
My hands shook as I pulled the belt across my lap and clicked it into place. The bus rattled and rocked back and forth as it rolled over the speed bump in front of the school. The motion made my stomach churn and sent a cold chill across the back of my neck. I dropped my head into my hands to block the light and prayed that I wouldn’t throw up.
“Your father was William Robbins, Myrtle Robbins’ son.” I heard Rubello’s voice in my head and felt everyone’s eyes upon me.
“What’s wrong with Lily?” someone asked.
“I think she’s going to be sick.”
“Oh no!” the boy across the aisle cried.
“I hope she waits till she gets home,” someone else said.
But the voices were just echoes in the distance, a soundtrack to the horror movie that was repeating in my brain.
“He’s lying!” I told myself. “My mother would never hide the most important thing in the world from me.”
“And that, Miss Johnson, makes you Myrtle Robbins’ granddaughter!”
The muscles clenched around my heart as my head fell to my lap. The brakes squealed then whooshed as the bus came to its first stop and was still moving slowly when a few of the boys who sat in the back walked clumsily up the aisle, grabbing the back of people’s seats for balance as their backpacks knocked them from side to side. Mr. Little scolded them as they exited, then shut the doors behind them and shifted into gear. The bus jerked as it got up to speed, and the stale air hung over my head, threatening my queasy stomach. The warm rush of wind that blew through the open windows was a welcome relief that came just in time. I sat back in my seat with my eyes still closed and wished my head would stop pounding.
We were nearly at my stop when I heard Maddie say, “Are you okay, Lil?” Her presence startled me, as I’d forgotten she was there. Chills ran through my body as I opened my eyes to the light.
“Maddie,” I began, nearly too terrified to speak, “do you know who my grandmother is?”
Maddie looked at me as if I had horns coming out of my head. “Sure. Everyone knows that,” she said. The bus slowed down as the brakes squealed and whooshed, bringing it to a stop. “Myrtle Robbins,” she said as I stared at her in silence.
“Lily Johnson!” Mr. Little called out. “This is you.”
I kept my head down to hide the tears as I ran toward the open door and stepped onto the grass as the bus pulled away. My mind raced with confusion as I stumbled toward the gate that led to Lindenwood. The surroundings suddenly felt completely unfamiliar. I was a stranger in the only home I’d ever known, and I felt bitterly betrayed by the one person in my life I believed I could trust. I needed her to tell me the truth about everything, and I needed her at that very moment. But when I looked for my mother, she wasn’t there.
I couldn’t feel the ground beneath my feet as I ran through the gates and down the road toward the cottage. My eyes were fixed on the path before me as the landscape blurred around it. Where was she? I felt my heart pounding in my chest as I began to tremble uncontrollably. My mother was nowhere in sight. Wave after wave of fear grabbed hold of me, and I couldn’t catch my breath, but this time she wasn’t walking toward me. I cried out, desperate to hear her voice. But there was no reply. When I reached the cottage, I opened the kitchen door and saw that the hook where Spirit’s leash was kept was empty. “Oh no!” I cried. Where were they?
I stepped into the yard as the screen door slammed behind me, then I stood perfectly still and listened, hoping to hear her voice. But it was quiet. I ran to the field where the path was divided. It was the last place I wanted them to be. I took off down the hill and over the stream where I stopped to catch my breath and listen, but I couldn’t hear anything but the thumping in my head.
Then, off in the distance, I heard her call out, “Spirit! Spirit! Come on, boy!”
She whistled for him as I ran down and up the little hills, following her voice until I saw her standing in the tall grass by the path that led to the lake. She was startled when she saw me, and I sensed something was wrong. The closer I got to her, the more intense my feeling became.
“Lily!” she said, still looking around for Spirit. “Good heavens! Are you early?”
“Where’s Spirit?” I yelled at her.
“Here’s around here. He’ll be right back. He just went for a little run.”
“You lost him! You lost him, didn’t you?”
“No, honey, he’s not lost. He saw a fox and ran after it. But he’ll be back. He does this all the time; it’s not a big deal.”
“You let him out here without a leash all the time? What’s wrong with you? I knew this would happen! I knew he’d run away!” My accusations flew at her without restraint.
“Lily, stop this!” she demanded as I searched the field for my dog. “He’s fine; I promise you.”
“How can you promise me anything? You’re a liar! You lie about everything! Why should I believe you?” I ran toward the lake and away from my mother, who stood helplessly in the field.
“Lily! What are you talking about?” She whistled for the dog as I continued to run toward the lake. “Argh!” she cried out. “Lily! Please! You don’t need to panic!” she called after me.
But her words were muffled by the sound of my heart beating and the rush of wind swirling in my head as I ran as fast as I could away from her.
“Lily!”
I climbed through the split-rail fence and glanced over my shoulder to catch sight of her running with Spirit close behind. Then came the sound of screeching tires and a blaring car horn.
“Oh, dear God!” she cried.
Then someone yelled, “Call 911!”
CHAPTER 12
FROM TOMB TO WOMB
“Call 911!”
Those were the last words I heard on the day I decided to leave myself behind. I still sensed the desperation and fear all around me. How was I supposed to tune it out? I mean, it felt like I was being crushed by everyone else’s emotions. Take the guy who hit me, for example. He was giving off a terrible vibe. His heavy footsteps shook the ground where I was lying as he paced back and forth, back and forth. I didn’t blame him; he had a good reason to be upset. Even if it wasn’t his fault. I wanted to tell him that. But I didn’t.
The worst part was my mother. You can imagine how she felt, right? Well…she clung to me so tightly that she nearly squeezed every breath of life out of me. Her face was buried in my chest, and my shirt was soaked from her slobber and tears. Spirit was there too, licking my face and adding to my dampness. He almost made me smile. But I fought as hard as I could and overcame the urge to open my eyes.
“They’ll be fine,” I told myself. “They have each other. They don’t need me. Not now. Not like this.”
It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I knew this was how it had to be. If I
went back now, nothing would change. My life would be more out of control than ever because my fears would totally consume me. And being so close to losing me would make my mother more protective than ever. She might even start lying all the time just so I wouldn’t go off the deep end. I would never be able to trust her again. I hated what this was doing to her, and I wished with all my heart that there was another way. But I had to see this through, or I couldn’t go back at all.
In some weird way, the accident was a blessing. It was as if someone handed me a golden opportunity to escape the chaos and confusion of my life and slip away for a while to regroup. To catch my breath. I don’t know. It’s not that I wanted to die. I just wanted to start over. To go all the way back…inside my mother’s womb…and be born again. This time…I wanted my father to be there when I arrived.
The instant after being struck, I tucked myself into a fetal position and cannonballed into a pool of swirling dark water, where I bobbed up and down and all around until I settled into a peaceful cradle of liquid love. I felt completely safe inside my bubble of bliss, and I floated selfishly in the overwhelming serenity I had immersed myself in. Then, I drowned the awareness of my mother’s pain and decided I would never leave this place. This thought echoed with the sound of my beating heart, and I was instantly aware of, yet completely unaffected by, the knowledge that I was still alive.
I might have remained in that tranquil state forever had it not been for the turbulence created by my mother’s suffering. Her desperate sobs convulsed into a tsunami of sorrow that crashed over me with such ferocity that I thought for a moment that I might be consumed by her agony. I nearly gave up. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t stay where I was. So I closed my eyes and pushed against her with all my strength. I pushed and pushed until with one mighty, determined shove, I separated myself from my mother’s will. And landed…headfirst…in a lush green meadow of thick, velvety grass.
A Face without a Reflection Page 12