SNOW GLOBE

by Jeanne Skartsiaris

  “Your mom’s a psychic?” Officer Smith asked.

  Aja winced. “Yeah, and an artist. She sells her stuff.”

  “Well, too bad she couldn’t see she was raising a criminal. Here’s a charge, after you turned eighteen, of breaking into a car?” Powell held up a document.

  “Those charges were supposed to be dropped.” Aja said. “Someone left a dog in a hot car, and I tried to break the window out.”

  “According to this, you succeeded.”

  “Yeah, but the dog owner got in trouble, too, and she was supposed to drop the charges against me for a lesser fine against her.” Aja had tried to use her needle-nose pliers on the window with no luck. She’d found some workers parked in a pickup, and they used a hammer to shatter the glass. They left before the police got there. Aja told them she did it. The owner was more worried about her car than the dog.

  “These are charges you were caught doing.” Powell made a show of fanning the documents at her. “Do you want to tell me about the ones you didn’t get caught with?”

  “Why don’t you just get a rope, dude. Take me out back and string me up. This is Texas, ya’ll.” Aja gave a flippant wave of her hand. “Guilty until proven innocent.”

  Officer Smith held out both arms, like a referee at a boxing match. “Detective, give me a few minutes with Aja.”

  “You?”

  “Please,” she said.

  “I hope you can get her to tell you where the jewelry is.” He looked at Aja as he stood. “If I find out you’ve taken the stolen stuff to a pawn shop, you’ll be serving some time. You’re an adult now. No more hiding as a juvie.”

  Aja met his eyes directly. “I didn’t steal her jewelry.” She hoped she sounded fiercer than she felt. Remembering the money she’d taken from Mrs. Dempsey, she looked away. Thankfully, no one had mentioned that.

  As soon as he left, Officer Smith turned to her. “Aja, we don’t want to falsely accuse you of anything, but Bea Poston is insisting you did it. Not only did she see you in the halls after work, but other residents saw you.”

  Aja sighed. “One of the residents lost his wife a few days ago. I’d helped him with her, and I felt bad and went to check on him.”

  “That would be Leigh Jensen?”

  Aja nodded.

  “If you didn’t like Bea Poston, then why did you help her? You were off work, right?”

  “I don’t know,” Aja shrugged. “She didn’t leave me much choice. She ordered me into her apartment, and I thought it would be easier to help than argue with her.” Aja had a strange sensation. She looked at the one-way mirror. “I don’t want that creepy officer Richards anywhere near me.” She continued to stare at the glass. She knew, without a doubt, he was on the other side. Watching her.

  Chapter 20

  Aja’s first and only paycheck was two hundred and fifty-eight dollars. She had to sign it over to the police station to make her three-hundred dollar bail. Her mom made up the rest. She still needed to pay Mrs. Burnett back, but again she had nothing. Three weeks of hard work poofed away for bail.

  On the way home, her mom was silent, making Aja more uncomfortable. “I didn’t do it, Mom. You know I’m not a thief.”

  “It’s so out of character for you, but I know you’ve been trying to raise money to move.” She glanced at Aja, then back to the road. “You know I’ll support you in anything.” She paused. “But stealing?”

  “You? My own mom? You don’t believe me?” Aja asked incredulously. “That cuts hard.”

  “I’m sorry. I do believe you. You are not a thief. At least not usually, but what about the forty dollars you took from that teacher?”

  “That was payback for her saying those things. But it was wrong. I know that.” Aja looked at her mom. “It was the first time, and, I promise, the last.”

  Her mom seemed to calm. “I may have raised you to be a fighter, but I know you better than anyone. Your heart is too big to steal.”

  “Thanks, I think,” Aja said. “I am so tired, and I’m still behind on homework. It seems like the whole world is against me finishing this stupid year.” She sat up. “Can you take me by work so I can get my books and purse?” She looked at the clock on the dash. It was almost midnight. “Oh, never mind, they’re closed anyway.” Summer school was looking certain for her.

  “Aja, we’re not allowed back there.”

  She knew her mother’s use of “we’re” was to soften the blow of Aja not being welcome.

  “It’s even too late to call Janie to see if she can get my books for me.”

  “I’ll see about getting them for you tomorrow.”

  “And my car is there.”

  “I’ll take you to school.”

  “At least that creepizoid officer can’t come around. That’s a relief,” Aja said as she leaned, exhausted, against the car window. Officer Smith helped them file a restraining order against Clay Richards.

  “She said she’ll have to run it by a superior before she can file it,” her mom reminded her. “I guess police officers get special treatment.” She stopped to make a left turn. “But I’ll wring his little weenie if I see him around.” She turned to Aja. “You still have your needle-nose pliers?”

  “Yeah, but he has a gun.”

  Her mom smiled. “Don’t let the jerks get you down, sweetie. We’ll fight this.” She turned onto their street.

  “I don’t know if I feel better or worse, thanks,” Aja said. The absurdity of the situation was unreal.

  When they pulled into their driveway, Aja noticed her book bag on the porch. She got out and found a note from Janie attached. Aja opened the letter and saw Janie’s scrawl: Sorry. I heard about what happened. Mrs. P is a bitch. I have your purse. Call me tomorrow. XO Janie. P.S. Call Walker too.

  At least Aja could get some homework done tonight.

  It took all of Aja’s strength to roll out of bed the next morning. She’d stayed up until two o’clock finishing her homework. She knew her mom wouldn’t wake her.

  In the kitchen, her mom was cooking oatmeal, the real steel-cut stuff, over the stove. “I wasn’t sure if I should get you up since you went to bed so late.”

  “Mom, if I miss any more school I’ll be suspended. I have to go.”

  “Well, at least eat a good breakfast.” Her mom set a big bowl of oatmeal in front of her.

  Aja didn’t sit down, drizzled a puddle of honey on top, and said, “I’ll eat on the way.”

  “I’ll write you a note if you’re late. Sit and eat.”

  “No offense, Mom, but your notes don’t carry weight anymore. Let’s go.”

  Aja took a big bite of oatmeal, grabbed her book bag, and ran to the door. In the car, she pulled out the old cell phone her mom had given her to use to call Janie. “We didn’t have any cool phones to use? This one’s practically rotary.” She held each button down to make sure it connected.

  Her mom didn’t say anything as they pulled out of the driveway.

  Janie finally picked up, her voice sleepy, and Aja tried to talk around a bite of food. “Janie, it’s me. Thanks for bringing my books. I need to come by and get my car.”

  “I’ll be there at three. Stop by, and I’ll give you your purse, too. I didn’t want to leave that on your porch last night. Mrs. Poston was fighting mad last night. What happened?”

  “She said I took some of her jewelry. I swear I didn’t, Janie.”

  “Why would you do something like that? But you’re the talk of the residents. They were all hot and bothered last night. This is the most excitement they’ve ever seen.” Janie’s giggle was muffled, probably by her comfy pillow.

  Aja craved her bed. Wanted life to be normal again. Whatever that was, considering the way she and her mom lived. They were always a little off-track of real life. “This whole thing sucks,” Aja said. “I’ll call you after school, and I’ll have my mom take me to my car.” Aja disconnected the call.

  “Umm, honey, you can’t go pick up your car.” Her mom stared ahea
d. “I’m pretty booked today, but let me see if Clara Wells can help me get it. Where are your keys?”

  “In my purse. With Janie.” Aja stirred the last of her oatmeal into one ball and ate the whole thing.

  “Leave me her number.” Her mom looked perplexed. “Aja, according to Officer Smith, you need to stay home in case they want to talk to you. And you’re not allowed near the residence center. I’m sorry, sweetie.”

  “They can kiss my ass,” Aja hissed. “I’ll do whatever I want. They allow psycho-cop out on the streets, but want to hold me prisoner? Stupid.”

  Her mom sighed. “For now, let’s play by the rules.”

  “Since when? Are you going soft now when I need you the most? You’ve never backed down from a fight before,” Aja said defiantly.

  “I’m still on probation from that chicken-coop coup. I don’t have enough money to post bail if I screw up, and I don’t want you here alone.”

  At school, Aja felt like everyone knew what happened. It was as if she had a red scarlet letter painted on her head.

  Dumpster called her to her desk when Aja entered the room.

  Aja went to the desk, hugging her books close to her. A McDonald’s bag was crumpled in the trash next to the teacher’s desk. The smell of grease still lingered. “Yeah?” Aja asked.

  “I’ve spoken to Principal Carlisle about you and your homeless father. He thought you needed a court advocate to speak with you.”

  “What homeless…” Aja remembered the sandwich yesterday. “He wasn’t my father.”

  “You said he was,” Dempsey said.

  “I was mistaken,” Aja answered.

  “We have to protect the students here and can’t have beggars near the school. If you know that man, he may be back. Does he sell drugs to little kids?”

  “Are you freakin’ kidding me?” Aja said, too loud. The students that were taking their seats stopped to listen.

  “Aja, please go see the principal, now.”

  “I can’t miss any more school.”

  “You only have yourself to blame.” Dumpster’s stock line.

  “Can you give me my assignment?”

  “No. The principal is expecting you.”

  Aja was dismissed.

  In the office, Aja took her usual seat. Mr. Carlisle was in his office, looking at the computer screen. Aja knew he was playing solitaire or online poker. Sometimes her psychic gift was nice.

  Mrs. Burnett’s office door opened, and she walked a student out. She stopped when she saw Aja.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Dempsey sent me.”

  “For what?”

  “Nothing. That’s just it. She hates me and can get away with using her power to control me. I’m about ready to skip out of here forever. I’d rather be a drop-out than deal with this.”

  “Go sit in my office.” Mrs. Burnett went into Mr. Carlisle’s office and shut the door.

  Aja did as she was told. A few minutes later, Mrs. Burnett came out, looking angry and began to write a hall pass. “Aja, go back to Mrs. Dempsey’s class. Do your assignments and don’t talk back to anyone.”

  Aja stood and took the pass. “What was that about a court advocate?”

  “We got a call about what happened last night. You are already on a tenuous line here. You may be suspended based on the charges. Please come see us here after each class to check in. I’m sorry, Aja.”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  “I hope not. I’ve really stuck my neck out in your defense, but things keep happening. I can’t believe everybody else is always wrong.”

  Principal Carlisle strode over. “I’m more than ready to suspend you. You may be a danger to the other students. But the judge said for you to go to your classes and then home. I guess you’re also a flight risk.”

  “Did you search her backpack?” he asked Mrs. Burnett.

  She hesitated. “No, I didn’t.”

  He turned to Aja. “Hand it over.”

  “Why?”

  “Aja,” Mrs. Burnett said quietly. “Please.”

  Aja almost dropped the bag from midair, but stopped. The mountain of problems kept growing higher and higher. She handed it to him.

  He dumped it out on a chair and carelessly sifted through the books. “So your dad’s a homeless guy?”

  Aja bit back a smart remark. “No.” Aja had always harbored a fantasy that her dad was some rock star like Bon Jovi or Bono. She knew her mom hung out with some bands when she was younger. Her mom sidetracked any questions Aja asked about him and stuck with the sperm donor answer.

  Suddenly, Aja became scared. What if whoever did steal the jewelry stashed it her backpack to frame her? It had been left unattended at the center last night. She waited anxiously as Mr. Carlisle went through each pocket.

  “Wait, what’s this?”

  Aja felt beads of sweat on her lip. “What?” she asked, her voice shaky.

  He pulled out her pliers. “What are these for?”

  Relieved, Aja shrugged. “They come in handy for a lot of stuff.”

  He handed them to Mrs. Burnett, then dropped Aja’s backpack on the pile of books he’d made a mess of. “Done. Go to class. We’ll keep the tool.”

  “But…” Aja stopped. “Fine.” She grabbed the pile of books and papers, all out of order now, and stuffed them in her bag.

  “Check back here after each class,” Mrs. Burnett reminded her. “There will be a court advocate here later, after school. Even though you’re eighteen, you’re still a student, so, for now, you’re being treated as a juvenile. But if anything else happens, Aja, you will be suspended.”

  Chapter 21

  Aja’s mother was waiting in the administration office after school. She sat next to a stout woman in a gray business suit. Mrs. Burnett stood next to them. They turned when Aja walked in.

  Her mom stood and went to Aja. “Honey, this is Ms. Lewis from social services. The court asked her here to talk to you.” Aja could tell her mom was on edge. On one hand, she seemed resigned to follow the rules, but Aja could tell it was grinding on her to give in.

  “It seems,” her mom went on through gritted teeth, “that you will be supervised at all times, but the officer that’s stalking you is still out driving around.” She looked at the advocate hard.

  Mrs. Burnett spoke. “Ms. Harmon, that’s another matter. We are here to help Aja.”

  “Help?” Her mom turned. “My daughter’s done nothing wrong, yet she’s the one confined?”

  Ms. Lewis said, “We can just as easily have her remanded to a juvenile detention center. She can finish school there and would be supervised around the clock.”

  “A juvenile detention jail? An alternative school?” Aja asked. “They’re teaching twenty-year-old eighth-graders second grade math there.” Aja looked at Ms. Lewis. “Would I get my diploma?”

  “It would be equivalent to a GED.”

  “A GED may get me into bartending school,” Aja shot back. “I want a real diploma.”

  “Our system is overflowing with juvenile offenders. You accept what is presented to you, even if it’s not your dream package. If you’d stayed out of trouble, we’d never be having this conversation.”

  “But I didn’t do anything.”

  “Neither did any of the others, according to them,” Ms. Lewis said.

  “Aja, you have the potential to get a scholarship into almost any school you want,” Mrs. Burnett said. “I hate to see what you’re doing to your future.” She shook her head.

  Her mom stiffened with anger. “Aja’s future will be fine. Just because she has a mind of her own, she drives you people crazy. Aja does not have to conform to all the stupid rules.” She looked at Aja proudly. “Don’t let them break you, sweetie. You’re better than all of them.”

  Principal Carlisle stepped from his office, apparently listening to the conversation. “Maybe you could look into your crystal ball and tell Aja what she’s going to be when she grows up.”

&
nbsp; Aja’s mother flared. “At least I have balls. Crystal or not.”

  Aja winced. When her mom’s temper heated up, she’d rail on anybody. “All I want to do is graduate,” Aja said. “And, worse, I haven’t done anything wrong, but I’m getting blamed for some bad sh…stuff!” She turned to Ms. Lewis. “And I don’t want a GED either.”

  “Aja, I wish I could believe you,” Ms. Lewis said, “but the evidence is telling me something else.”

  Aja looked at Mrs. Burnett. “I’m not a bad person. I shoot my mouth off some, but I’m harmless.”

  “You are entitled to shoot your mouth off all you want,” Aja’s mom said. “Free speech.” She turned to Mrs. Burnett and Ms. Lewis. “It’s her constitutional right.”

  “Ms. Harmon, you’re not helping,” Mrs. Burnett said.

  “I can see where Aja gets her criminal propensities.” Carlisle smirked. “Have you paid back the money you stole?”

  “No,” Aja whispered, defeated.

  “Here’s the money.” Aja’s mom opened her wallet and counted out thirty-one dollars. Then she opened her change purse and took out a handful of coins. “Here, we’ll still owe you about five dollars.” Aja’s mom put the money on the counter.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Burnett said. “Let’s get Aja help.”

  “And this is the thanks we get for trying to help,” Mr. Carlisle scoffed.

  “I feel like a puppet and you are all pulling my strings to the breaking point.” Aja tried not to cry. “For the first time ever, I’m ready to move now.” She shot a glance at her mom, then turned to Mrs. Burnett. “I was wrong to take the money, but I could hear everything you were saying about me that day, that I was total loser. I was mad. I did not take the jewelry. I was only trying to help Mr. Jensen that night.” She bit back tears. “I felt so sorry for him. This is what I get for being nice. Blamed by the wicked-witch of the old-folks-home for something I didn’t do. Life is real fair.”

  Aja ran out of the office, almost crashing through a group of cheerleaders. Aja wondered what life was like for them. Stability, friends, a real home. Probably none of them had spent time in jail. Her whole life she’d been an outcast. Different, always the odd girl out. And she was sick of it.