365 Days Alone

by Nancy Isaak

  Needless to say, the ‘whatever-it-was-that-had-happened’ had changed all that.

  Which meant—if Amelie really did have the flu—we were all at tremendous risk.

  Because we didn’t live in an industrialized, first world country anymore.

  The United States of America was now—a third world nation.

  * * * *

  It was almost midnight.

  Peyton was sitting quietly at Amelie’s bedside, holding her sister’s hand while she slept. Meanwhile, Cherry and Wandy had taken Shawnee and Lily back to their place for the night. Jude and I remained sitting in the hallway, however, just in case we were needed.

  An exhausted Jay was next to me—her head on my shoulder—taking a few well-earned minutes of rest until Amelie might need her next.

  With the click-clack of high heels, Orla and Tray—followed by two 12th graders from their Protection Detail—came around the corner.

  Frankly, I was too tired to be concerned; I merely nudged Jay awake. She squinted up at Orla, her eyes red and tired.

  “Yes?” Jay yawned.

  “Loran’s an idiot, isn’t she?” stated Orla.

  “Pretty much,” agreed Jay.

  Orla frowned. “You’re not on Laundry Detail anymore, Sitipala. You’re in charge of the Medical Center now.”

  “You know I’m not a doctor,” said Jay, yawning again. “I don’t even play one on t.v.”

  “Yet you have a sonic screwdriver,” murmured Jude, beside her.

  Jay immediately burst into laughter. “I stand corrected,” she said, waving a finger at Orla. “I am the Doctor!”

  Orla—obviously not a “Doctor Who” fangirl—chose to ignore Jay’s exhausted amusement. “You’re in charge now, Sitipala. Got it?”

  “Okey-dokey,” Jay responded. Then, she leaned her head back onto my shoulder and closed her eyes once again.

  Beside Orla, Tray shook her head, obviously annoyed. “And she’s the best we’ve got,” she sniffed.

  My hackles went up.

  “You’re right, Tray.” I snapped, glaring up at her. “Jayalakshmi is the best.”

  * * * *

  Sue became sick two days later; Rachel the day after that.

  Suddenly, Jay had three patients in her Medical Center—where she would spend countless hours, bent over the community’s small collection of medical books, trying desperately to figure out some way to help all of them.

  I worried constantly about Jay.

  My best friend was a 15-year old girl, trying to be a doctor. No matter how much Jay learned from her books—I knew that it would never be enough. Sooner or later, someone from the community was going to be seriously hurt—or they would die.

  And Jay would never forgive herself for not saving them.

  Until that time, however, Jay was struggling just to keep her patients hydrated and their temperatures as close to normal as possible. She’d taken to loading syringes with sugar water and squirting it into their mouths, drop-by-drop—like a mother bird feeding her babies.

  Cherry, Jude, and I would help when we could—but we still had our own work details to complete. Shawnee and Lily had wanted to volunteer also, but Jay not only would not allow them to help, she had also banned them from the Medical Center completely.

  Until the crisis was over—we were on ‘Quarantine Procedures’.

  As head of the Medical Center, Jay had decreed that no one was allowed to enter without her permission. And anyone who did enter had to be wearing gloves and a facemask (courtesy of our local pharmacies).

  We girls had gone through so much already. The last thing Jay wanted was to add an epidemic to our lives.

  Quarantine was her way of keeping us all safe.

  JOURNAL ENTRY #20

  Laundry Detail just got way harder!

  Because of the ‘sickness’, the Council has ordered us to boil everything first. Then we still have to wash the laundry in the creek. Plus, we have to wear rubber gloves. (Actually, I’m okay with that part. The creek water has been really cold lately and the gloves help to keep my fingers warm.)

  I’m not really complaining, by the way; I’m just explaining.

  Jay’s actually the one behind the new ‘laundry rules’. Two 12th graders have now joined Amelie, Sue, and Rachel in the Medical Center and Jay’s worried that there might be more unless we disinfect everything.

  That’s five girls out of sixty-six.

  No one’s died, yet. But they’re all very sick.

  With quarantine and boiling the laundry, Jay is hoping that we can keep it from spreading to the rest of us.

  Fingers crossed.

  * * * *

  With everything that has happened, I almost forgot that tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.

  How sad is that?

  Plus, we all figured that Yaz’s 18th birthday would be cancelled—because of the Quarantine. But Orla and the Council have decided that we should go ahead with the party anyway. They think that the community needs a little break from everything we’ve been going through.

  Jude and I are still undecided about attending.

  We’re worried about having Lily around the other girls right now. Cherry and Wandy feel the same way about exposing Shawnee to a possible epidemic. And Jay, of course, will be busy in the Medical Center, so she’s definitely not going.

  Also, truthfully—after seeing how Sophia is keeping the kitchen now—I don’t even think that I would miss not having a piece of the birthday cake.

  * * * *

  By the way, the Continuation girls and my little family are getting along really well now. We spend a lot of time together—sometimes at our house, sometimes at theirs—with our school meals usually spent at the same cafeteria table.

  Well, they were.

  Now—because of the sickness—we tend to bring our food back to one of our homes. It just feels awkward and unsafe to eat meals around the other girls at the moment. All it takes is for one person to cough and everyone else starts glaring at the offender.

  * * * *

  We did have our supper together at our house today.

  It was some sort of bean soup. (We eat a lot of beans these days! We’re kind of giving Pugly a run for his fart-money.)

  Truthfully, it wasn’t very tasty and they didn’t give us enough; the portions were really small. Our bellies were definitely grumbling afterward. Luckily—like probably everyone else in the community—we have extra food hidden around the house. Jude opened up some potato chips and I introduced the rest of the girls to the joys of soy chocolate milk.

  Afterward, Jude, Cherry, Wandy, and I sat in the backyard and looked up at the stars. We tried to figure out the constellations but, without Jay (as always, at the Medical Center), we were useless. Lily and Shawnee, meanwhile, were in Lily’s bedroom, playing with dolls by candlelight. Pugly, no doubt, was probably snuffling and farting around at their feet.

  (Although we haven’t told them not to, the Continuation girls have never mentioned Pugly to anyone else. They’re smart girls—they understand.)

  * * * *

  “Have you seen Jay today?” asked Wandy.

  I nodded. “After Laundry Detail, I helped out in the Medical Center for a couple of hours.”

  “How’s she doing?” asked Cherry.

  “She’s exhausted. It’s killing Jay because she doesn’t have enough knowledge to help the girls more than just keeping them comfortable and making sure their temperatures don’t go out of control.”

  “Nobody here could do better,” said Jude.

  We all nodded, agreeing.

  “Is Peyton still there?” asked Cherry.

  “She’s like Jay,” I said. “Peyton goes home to get clean and change clothes once a day, then she’s back in the Medical Center again.”

  “That Fox is a good sister,” nodded Jude. “You have to give her that.”

  “But it’s not just Amelie,” I told them. “Peyton helps out with all the girls. I’ve even seen her emptying bedp
ans—and I hate doing that.”

  “Wow,” Cherry mused, impressed. “I guess the princess isn’t the complete bitch that I thought she was.”

  There were giggles from all of us—except for Wandy.

  She remained suspiciously quiet, staring into her glass of chocolate milk like a drunk peering down an empty beer bottle.

  “What is it?” I finally asked.

  Wandy sighed. “I knew Peyton…when we were kids. Once upon a time…well…we were friends.”

  “You were friends with a Fox?!” sputtered Cherry. “You never told me that.”

  “At Sumac Elementary…2nd to 6th grade.” Wandy took a swig of milk; she looked sad. “We were best friends.”

  “Peyton Buckingham?” Jude looked shocked. Frankly, I was just as surprised.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “I’m not one hundred percent sure,” admitted Wandy. “It’s complicated when you’re a kid. You hear things when grown-ups don’t think you’re listening, so you kind of have to put it all together to figure it out. One day I was playing with Peyton at my house—the next day her dad pulled her out of Sumac and she was gone. I didn’t really see her again until the first day of high school. By then, Peyton was with the Foxes, so I simply didn’t exist for her anymore.”

  “Why did she get pulled out of Sumac?” asked Jude. “To go to some private school? I heard Peyton went to one of those rich girl academies down in Beverly Hills.”

  Wandy nodded. “She did. In fact, I think that’s where she first met Tray.”

  “Now Tray’s a definite bitch,” said Cherry.

  “Without a doubt,” Jude agreed.

  “But why wouldn’t Peyton talk to you?” I persisted. “I mean, even if she was going to private school in Beverly Hills, you’d still see her around Agoura Hills, wouldn’t you?”

  “Except…I think she was pulled out of Sumac because of my grandma,” Wandy admitted. “I think maybe Peyton wasn’t allowed to talk to me after that.”

  (FYI, Wandy lives with her grandmother on the far side of Kanan Road. She was just a baby when her dad overdosed on heroin, so Wandy has no memories of him. And her mom is living somewhere up in San Jose—also a drug addict—and Wandy rarely hears from her.)

  “Why would your grandma have anything to do with it?” I continued.

  “My grandma’s really amazing, really smart.” Wandy smiled at Cherry. “You’ve met her.”

  Cherry was nodding. “I love her. She’s gotta be like ninety, and she’s still quicker than someone half her age. And I’m talking of her brain.”

  “Which was the problem,” continued Wandy. “I think that my grandma put something together in her head from when Peyton and me would play together. She probably heard things, saw things, you know. And the last day I played with Peyton, grandma took her into the other room for a private talk. I don’t know what it was about, but it was while we were having a snack, because I remember sitting at the table, eating peanut butter and crackers and they were both gone. A few hours later, me and Peyton are back playing in my bedroom and her dad shows up. Next thing we know, my grandma’s yelling at him in the living room. Just two words, over and over again…you bastard!”

  “Son of a bitch,” growled Jude.

  “No!” whispered Cherry.

  I guess I was the only one who wasn’t getting it.

  “What did Peyton’s father do to make your grandma so mad?” I asked.

  “I think she figured out what he was doing to Peyton.”

  And then—horrified—I finally got it. “Ohmigod!”

  “I saw Peyton one last time after that—before high school. Grandma and I were coming out of Baskin-Robbins. Peyton and her dad passed by us in their Maserati. She didn’t even look at me,” Wandy told us. “I had my hand up to wave hi and they just drove by, both looking straight ahead, as if I didn’t exist.”

  From the bedroom came the sudden, girlish laughter of Shawnee and Lily—so full of the joy and innocence of youth. Listening to their happiness, Wandy sighed, sadly—most likely, remembering two other little girls.

  “Later, I found out that my grandma had actually called the cops on her dad. Nothing happened, though,” Wandy shrugged. “Peyton’s dad was already pretty famous as a director by then. I think he had ‘connections’, you know.”

  “Figures!” Jude grumbled, disgusted. “Rich people.”

  I suddenly thought of something that made my skin crawl.

  “Amelie!” I gasped. “What about Amelie?”

  Wandy took a deep breath, considering. “I’ve often wondered about that myself. I mean, Peyton’s so protective of Amelie. Whenever I see the family together at school functions or out in Agoura, I’ve noticed that Peyton is always sitting or standing between Amelie and her dad.”

  “Come to think of it,” said Cherry, “I’ve seen that, too—at the Spring Art Show this year. Her dad was whispering in Amelie’s ear and Peyton rushed over, grabbed Amelie by the arm, and pulled her away. Then Peyton pushed her dad—and I mean, she pushed him. After that, her dad just followed Peyton around like a puppy dog. I remember thinking that Peyton was just being her total bitch self. Now—after what you just told us—I think that it might have been something else completely different.”

  Jude nodded, agreeing. “Peyton was controlling her dad to save her sister.”

  We all looked at each other—shocked.

  It was the first time that any of us had ever suspected that Peyton might be more than just a Fox.

  That Peyton Buckingham—might actually be one of the good guys.

  MY SECRET VALENTINE

  On the night of February 14th, Jude and Wandy decided to stay home and take care of Lily and Shawnee, while Cherry and I went to the big party together. We figured that we’d make an appearance, stay a half hour, and then return home to our respective houses.

  When we first entered the small gym at the high school, Cherry and I were surprised at how few girls were actually attending the party. Out of the sixty-six girls in our community, there had to be less than twenty who showed up…and most of those were either 11th or 12th graders.

  Cherry and I immediately went over to the food table. The fixings were significantly less than what we had been served on New Year’s Eve. There were small bowls of candies and chips, while—over in one corner—a big bowl of stew had been set up over a small camp stove.

  Sophia had done a beautiful job on Yaz’s birthday cake, however.

  It was a three-tiered chocolate with strawberry filling. It looked so yummy, I even decided to put Sophia’s nasty-kitchen out of my mind—I couldn’t wait to have a piece!

  “Do you even see Yaz?” I asked Cherry, looking around. “We should probably go over and say ‘Happy Birthday’.”

  “Nope. I don’t think any of the Foxes are here either,” Cherry answered.

  “Well, we know that Peyton is probably at the Medical Center, but I would have thought that Orla and Tray would be here by now, at least.”

  “They probably want to make an entrance.” Cherry snorted.

  “No doubt—putting last minute touches on their spectacular Dolce & Gabbana’s, so that we will all be suitably impressed when they finally decide to grace us with their presence.”

  We were both wrong.

  Because right at that moment, Orla was standing at the doorway to Yaz’s bathroom looking down at a toothbrush on the tiled floor—still wet with toothpaste.

  Of Yaz—there was no sign.

  She had simply disappeared.

  * * * *

  We spent hours—searching through the neighborhood and going through each of the schoolrooms. By morning, Orla finally had to admit what the rest of us had already accepted.

  Yaz was gone.

  Of course, everybody had a theory.

  Some girls thought that maybe Yaz had been kidnapped by one of the gangs coming up the 101 Freeway. Others suggested that perhaps she had simply returned to South L.A. and her old neighborhood.
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  Alice wondered if one of the dreaded beasts had finally shown up and taken Yaz. It was no great secret that Yaz liked to smoke cigarettes. What if she had simply gone outside for a cigarette and a beast had caught her?

  Of course, that didn’t explain how Yaz would have managed to have walked by the two 12th graders waiting just outside her bedroom door to escort her to the party. Plus, the only window in her bedroom was barred and locked shut—from the inside.

  And, of course, none of the theories could explain the toothbrush on the bathroom floor.

  Except for Sophia’s and Reena’s.

  To them, it was obvious.

  Yaz must have finally repented and accepted Jesus into her heart; she was now sitting at the Holy Father’s table in heaven.

  “God has a plan for all of us,” preached Sophia that morning. “We would do well to follow Yaz’s example and get down on our knees and pray.”

  Reena, of course, was in total agreement.

  * * * *

  We were all exhausted when Orla finally allowed us to return to our homes. Cherry took off immediately, while I slogged over to the Medical Center to take Jay a piece of chocolate cake.

  “Here,” I said, handing it to her. “It was the best part of the party, that’s for sure.”

  “She’s really gone, huh?” Jay was too tired to look really astonished. That didn’t stop her from hungrily stuffing the cake into her mouth, though.

  “Just her grody toothbrush on the floor. Her Detail was right outside the room, too. They said that they didn’t hear anything. One minute Yaz was there—the next minute she was gone. And, of course, Sophia says that she’s gone to heaven.”