A Piece of Heaven

by Sharon Dennis Wyeth

  “If you’d like, we can try to find him,” offered Jackson.

  “I don’t think so,” I said, turning away. “He was pretty mean to Ma,” I confided. “I saw some bad things. So did Otis. Ma had to get an order of protection so he wouldn’t come and bother her. ”

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

  I sighed. “To tell the truth, it’s kind of confusing. Even though Dad was mean to Ma, he was often nice to me. I loved it when he read to me. It hurts to think about, so I try not to.”

  “I didn’t mean to pry,” said Jackson.

  I gave him a little smile. “That’s okay.” I had never met anyone as kind as Jackson! “You and Brielle are lucky,” I said wistfully.

  “Nobody’s life is perfect,” Jackson commented. He stood up taller. “Ready to go home now?”

  I nodded. “Ma might be calling with some news about Otis. And I never told Mrs. Brown where I was going. She offered to go with me to the hospital during visiting hours.”

  “Let’s hurry, then,” Jackson said. He pressed a safety lock on the glass doors and shut them.

  “You don’t have to walk me home,” I told him.

  “I know,” he said, edging toward the front of the house. “But I want to make sure that you’re safe.”

  We walked the short distance to my building in comfortable silence.

  “This is us,” I said, stopping in front of the stoop.

  “I love the architecture,” he commented.

  “Thanks. So do I. A long time ago, it was a hotel.” I pointed up at our windows. “See that yellow thing in the tiniest window on the second floor? That’s our cookie jar. Ma once told me that if I ever got lost, I could look for the cookie jar in that window and find my way home. Just look for the Cookie Jar Hotel.”

  He smiled. “Your cookie jar is kind of a beacon.”

  “Sometimes I think of the fire escape as a balcony,” I confided. “Ma got mad at me once because I went out there in my pajamas.”

  He chuckled.

  “Sometimes I imagine that ladies are strolling up there on the fire escape,” I said softly.

  “What do the ladies look like?” he mused.

  “Brown skin, lacy white dresses, pink parasols. They’re holding china cups,” I confided dreamily.

  He smiled. “Quite an imagination you’ve got there.”

  “Thanks for everything,” I said, turning in toward the building. “See you on Monday!”

  Jackson waved and took a step down the sidewalk. A familiar voice floated down to the street.

  “Thought I heard you, Mahalia Moon!” Mrs. Brown said, popping her head out her window. “Where have you been?”

  I looked up. “Visiting Ma,” I called. “I couldn’t wait. I’m sorry if I worried you. After I saw Ma, I went to work.” I motioned to Jackson. “This is my boss.”

  Jackson nodded, and Mrs. Brown nodded politely.

  “Did Ma call?” I asked Mrs. Brown.

  She shook her head. “I tried to call her, but there wasn’t any answer. Come on in. Nirvana and Dill are waiting for you over in your apartment.”

  Jackson gave me a wink and turned away for the second time. “Thanks for the good job you did today. Call me if you need me.”

  “I will,” I promised. “Thanks again.”

  I went inside and climbed the stairs. Nirvana was peeking out my door.

  “Come on in!” she said. “We have a surprise.” She opened the door wider to reveal a room filled with lovely, flickering candles stuck in Mrs. Brown’s new candlestick holders. The table was set with three plates. Dill was sitting in Otis’s spot with a grin on his face.

  “I thought you’d never get here,” he complained. “I’m starving.”

  “Grandma cleaned your apartment,” Nirvana explained excitedly. “And Dill and I put out the dishes and silverware.” She pointed to two serving bowls on the table. “Grandma made some spaghetti and meatballs and green salad!”

  “We didn’t want you to eat by yourself,” Dill explained.

  “This is great,” I said, throwing my arms around Nirvana. Then I rushed to the sink and washed my hands. “I really like the candles!”

  Nirvana cleared her throat. “Dill went out and bought them. We kind of have to have them,” she added quietly.

  “Why? It’s not dark yet,” I remarked, sitting down at the table. I gave her a playful look. “Oh, I get it! You lit them to be romantic.”

  “The man from the electric company came today,” Mrs. Brown announced, appearing in the doorway.

  “He cut off your lights,” Nirvana explained.

  Dill reached for the spaghetti. “We don’t need electricity. We’ve got candles.”

  “Let’s eat,” Nirvana encouraged, serving my plate. “We can worry about the electric bill later.”

  “Though I don’t know where we’ll get the money from,” said Mrs. Brown.

  I let out a groan and remembered the bills that Ma had buried beneath the knives in the silverware drawer. I hadn’t bothered to check them out. “What else can go wrong?” I said with a sigh.

  “I might be able to lend you some money, Haley,” Dill offered, touching my hand.

  “That’s okay,” I said, trying to be brave. “I have the money I’ve made from my job put away in the cookie jar. I was saving it for a rainy day, after all.”

  “And this is the rainy day!” Mrs. Brown said enthusiastically. “Nirvana will take you over to the electric company to pay the bill on her day off.”

  Nirvana patted me on the back. “Don’t worry, Haley. You’ve got us. We’ll get you through.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Mrs. Brown turned away. “You children eat up, now. I’ll see you later.”

  I was sitting down to the table when the telephone rang. I jumped up to answer it. It was Ma.

  “How are you, sweetheart?”

  “Fine. What about Otis?”

  “He’s okay. I spoke with him. He’s in a juvenile facility until his trial date, just like I expected. Maybe he could have waited at home, if I hadn’t been in the hospital,” she added quietly.

  My heart clutched. “How long are they going to keep him?”

  “We’re not sure,” said Ma. “We have to take one day at a time. The social worker came after you left today. A nice lady named Terry. She’ll probably come to see you, too. Try not to worry. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to get well.”

  “You sound better,” I said hopefully.

  “The doctor is still adjusting the dosage of my medication,” she murmured. “This thing with Otis has kind of thrown me.” She paused.

  “Be cooperative, Haley.”

  “Okay,” I promised. “Ma?”

  “Yes?”

  “Get well. Please.”

  “I’m working on it…,” she said wearily.

  “Is everything all right?” Nirvana called out.

  “They’ve put Otis in a juvenile facility,” I told her after I hung up. “Ma can’t do anything about it.” All the panicky feelings I’d had that morning rushed back suddenly. I sat down at the table again and began jiggling my foot.

  “Things will get better, Haley,” said Dill.

  “Eat your dinner,” encouraged Nirvana.

  I picked at my spaghetti, trying hard not to cry. “I’ll be all right,” I told them.

  “Whatever happens, Grandma and I are right next door,” Nirvana assured me.

  Dill reached for my hand. “I’m here for you, too. We’re sticking like glue, until your mother gets better.”

  Nirvana squeezed my shoulder. “You’re our little sister, Haley.”

  But the world didn’t see it that way.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Nirvana slept over with me that night. She started out on Otis’s couch bed, but when she heard me tossing and turning, she got up in the dark and gave me a hug.

  “Poor Haley, I’m sorry things are going so badly for your family.”

  “Things will
get better,” I said quietly.

  “Would you like for me to sleep in your bed with you?” she asked, tugging on the edge of my sheet.

  “Okay,” I said, perking up. “You take the top of the bed and I’ll take the bottom. We’ll sleep head to feet.”

  “Good plan,” said Nirvana. She climbed in. I scrunched my body over to make room for her.

  “Did you ever know anybody in jail?” I asked.

  “No,” she replied. “But I’ve heard it can be rough.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I asked fearfully.

  “I’ve heard that you meet up with a lot of rough customers inside,” she said quietly. “But don’t worry. Otis is smart. He’ll stay away from the wrong people.”

  “He wasn’t smart enough to stay away from Reggie,” I murmured.

  “Try to get your mind off it,” Nirvana suggested. “Try to go to sleep.”

  I sighed. We were quiet for a minute. I stared up at the ceiling.

  “Pretty dark in here tonight, huh?” I whispered.

  She grunted softly.

  “How soon do you think they can turn the lights back on?” I asked.

  “They’re usually pretty quick to take care of things after you pay up,” she answered in a sleepy voice. “The same thing happened to me and Grandma once.” She rolled over and faced the wall. “Night, Haley. Sleep tight. Don’t worry.” In a couple of minutes, I heard her snoring.

  I squinted out into the room. A shiver went through me. When I was little, I had never been afraid of scary stories, but I had been afraid of the dark. The fact that I wouldn’t be able to turn on the lamp, if I suddenly needed to, freaked me out. It reminded me of the old days when I was afraid of the boogeyman. There was a tiny bit of light in the room, filtering in from the streetlamp, but somehow that made things even eerier. The closet door was open, and I was sure that someone was there. I closed my eyes tight. But what I imagined when my eyes were shut was even scarier. I saw Otis carrying a severed head! Blood was dripping everywhere, and the blood drops were calling, “Haley! Haley!”

  I jerked my eyes open and sat up in bed. Nirvana was still sleeping soundly. I peered across the room once more. Someone was definitely hiding in the closet! I held my breath. I could hear a slight tapping sound. Maybe a robber had broken in while I had been gone that day, I thought. The person was just waiting for me to go to sleep before jumping out. When I woke up, all our stuff would be stolen. Or maybe the robber had already stolen our stuff and left! Working up my nerve, I crept out of bed and scurried across the room. I heard the slight tapping again. Maybe this time there was a real rat in the oven, I thought, shrinking away from the stove. I stared at the clown cookie jar above the sink. My money had been inside it! I took off the top and touched the wad of dollar bills. My stash was still safe. Relieved, I put the top back on the jar and felt for a glass on the counter. I turned on the water and filled the glass. I drank a few sips. The clown cookie jar stared at me. I had always liked its cheerful smile, but now the clown seemed to be mean and leering. I swallowed, unable to tear my eyes away.

  I leaned toward the window. A tiny breeze was coming in. The coolness stroked my cheek. The window shade was partway up. It stirred slightly. The plastic knob at the end of the pull cord gently knocked on the screen, creating the tapping noise that I’d heard.

  I thought about Otis. He must have been lonely. I wondered what kind of beds they had in the juvenile facility. I was pretty sure there were no pullout couches like the one that Otis was used to sleeping on. Maybe the “juveniles” had to sleep on hard cots for punishment. Or even worse, no beds at all! My imagination began to run wild. I saw Otis stretched out on a cold, dank floor. For dinner he might have had only bread and water. He’d be so hungry that he would try to break out. I imagined Otis climbing out a tiny window and up onto a roof. On the street below was Reggie, who’d also made an escape. Instead of the van that Reggie had borrowed, there was a stretch limo. My brother would leap off the roof and jump into the car. He and Reggie would roar away. Then, from out of nowhere, a police car would chase them. Otis and Reggie would be in more trouble than ever when they got caught.

  I shook my head to snap out of it. What I had imagined was ludicrous. They had to have real beds in a juvenile facility. It was probably a law. And how on earth could Reggie come up with a stretch limo that fast? And if Otis tried jumping off a roof, he would only get hurt. I should have laughed at myself—I was being so ridiculous. But a tear rolled out of my eye instead. Who knew when I would see my brother again?

  I tiptoed across the room to look once more at the “robber” in the closet. It was only Ma’s dress, the soft blue one that she looked so lovely in. On the floor next to our pile of shoes was my basketball. I hadn’t tried it yet.

  I nestled down in bed next to Nirvana’s feet. I carefully touched one of her toes. Ma had paid lots of money for Otis’s sneakers. Since Nirvana worked at a sneaker store, she probably got a break on hers. My thoughts began to get scrambled. I imagined Otis taking his shoes off in prison. There would be all kinds of criminals around going to bed, too. If Otis wasn’t careful, somebody might steal his sneakers from him. Ma would be more upset than ever if Otis came home without his shoes .…

  The next thing I knew, it was morning. The sun was shining brightly and Nirvana was gone. She’d left a note on the table.

  Haley,

  Had to take Grandma to church.

  Love,

  Nirvana

  I opened the door and made a beeline for the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and washed my face. When I got back to the apartment, there was a strange woman standing in the middle of the room.

  “Who are you?” I demanded.

  She smiled and stuck out her hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you. The door was wide open.”

  “Get out,” I choked, backing away. “This is my apartment.”

  She nodded. “You’re Mahalia Moon, aren’t you? I’m Terry Soriano, a social worker. Your mother said she’d tell you I was coming.”

  I went inside, but left the door open a crack. “Sorry,” I yelled, scooting across the room. “I didn’t know who you were.”

  “That’s okay. May I sit down?”

  “Okay.” I grabbed my jeans and T-shirt off the floor and held them in front of me.

  “Looks like you had company for dinner last night,” she commented, eyeing the spaghetti dishes in the sink. She smiled. “Looks like it was good.”

  “My friend Nirvana and her boyfriend, Dill,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Nirvana’s grandmother made dinner for us. I was going to clean up this morning,” I added apologetically.

  “Is Nirvana’s grandmother Mrs. Brown?” she asked.

  I nodded. “How do you know Mrs. Brown?”

  “Your mother told me about her. Does she make breakfast for you as well?”

  “Not really,” I said, leaning against the counter. “For breakfast I usually grab something at Rivera’s. They have the greatest doughnuts. Have you been there?”

  “I tried them once,” she said. “Kind of sugary. I’m on a diet.”

  I eyed her suspiciously. I’d never heard anyone say anything bad about Rivera’s doughnuts!

  She took a notebook out of her bag and wrote something down.

  “What are you writing?” I asked, still clutching my clothes. You’d think that she’d have given me some privacy!

  “I want to make sure you’re well taken care of,” she said. She gave me a smile that I was sure was phony.

  “My mother does that,” I said shrilly.

  “I’m here to help your mother,” said Terry. She smiled again. “She asked me to, yesterday at the hospital.”

  I swallowed. “Do you know about Otis?”

  Terry nodded. “I’m so sorry about what happened to him. You must be upset.”

  “Not really,” I lied. “He’ll get out. He’s innocent.”

  Terry looked at me thoughtfully.

  “Did you s
ee him?” I asked.

  “I did,” she replied. “He’s sorry for what he’s done.”

  “Did he tell you that?” I asked in surprise.

  “Yes. He also told your mother.”

  “Can I speak with him, too?” I asked eagerly.

  “Not unless he wants you to,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “But he will want to speak with me,” I pressed. “I’m his sister.”

  “I’m not sure that he wants to speak to anybody but your mom at the moment,” she said hesitantly.

  I frowned. “I don’t like standing here in my pajamas,” I blurted out angrily. “I’m going into the closet to change.”

  “Of course,” Terry said, standing up. “I should have given you a moment to get dressed. It was thoughtless of me.”

  “Forget it,” I said, turning in to the closet with my jeans.

  “Mind if I peek in the refrigerator?” she called over her shoulder.

  “Go ahead,” I called back. “Help yourself, if you’re hungry. My mother bought tons of groceries before she went into the hospital. Of course, none of us is on a diet,” I murmured sarcastically.

  When I came out of the closet, Terry was holding a milk carton. “Mind if I throw this away?” she asked. “It’s spoiled.”

  I shrugged. “Too bad. Probably because there’s no electricity. I hope everything else didn’t spoil.”

  Terry poured the milk into the sink and tossed out the carton. “How long have you been without electricity?” she asked, picking up her notebook again.

  “Only one night. I don’t mind, really. Nirvana said she’d sleep over so that I won’t be scared. Nirvana used to be my baby-sitter.”

  “Did her friend Dill sleep over, too?” she asked.

  “Of course not!” I said with a nervous laugh. “Are you crazy? Mrs. Brown would kill her! Are you trying to say something nasty about my friends?”

  “No, certainly not,” said Terry.

  “It sounded that way to me,” I countered stubbornly.

  “I’m sorry,” said Terry. “I’m sure Nirvana and Dill are great people. You probably feel very close to the Browns.”

  “I feel close to Nirvana,” I said hesitantly, “but I don’t always feel close to Mrs. Brown,” I confessed. “She called Otis a degenerate. I didn’t like that.”