“Who did?” Kofi asked. “You know who did this?”
“My stepfather,” Arielle replied with conviction.
“But…but…why?” asked Dana.
Arielle didn’t answer. “Can I use your cell phone?”
“Sure.” Dana flipped it open.
With trembling fingers, Arielle punched in the number of her mother’s job at the Delta desk. “Mom?” she cried. “You gotta come home—now.”
“Tell her to hurry,” Dana whispered.
Arielle continued, her voice shuddering with disbelief. “No, no, I’m fine. But everything’s gone, Mom. Chad took everything.” She paused, listening to her mother’s outcry. “Mom, he took every belt and bottle. My clothes, even my underwear. My books and pictures. All your stuff too. The furniture. The food. Gone. Please hurry. I’m scared.”
Arielle snapped the phone shut and handed it back to Dana.
“Your stepfather really did this?” Dana asked incredulously.
Kofi walked down the empty hall and peeked into a couple of the other rooms. All empty. Not a thing was in any of them. Even the toilet paper was gone.
“Can a dude do that?” he asked.
“I guess he already has,” Arielle replied sadly.
Dana’s phone shrilled loudly in the empty room.
“Hello,” she said. She tossed the phone to Arielle. “It’s your mom.”
“Are you on your way, Mom? I don’t know what to do!”
Dana rubbed Arielle’s arm as she and Kofi listened to Arielle’s side of the conversation.
“Your car’s been stolen?” Arielle cried out. “Are you sure?”
Kofi exchanged a knowing look with Dana.
“Mom, I bet it wasn’t stolen—at least not by an ordinary thief.”
“Her stepfather?” Dana whispered to Kofi.
He nodded.
“I bet Chad took it, Mom. He took everything else. Why would he leave you the car?”
“What a low-life piece of trash!” Dana muttered as Arielle clicked off the phone.
“Kofi, I hate to ask, but do you think you can drive me to my mother’s job? She has no way to get home.” Arielle looked around the room and shook her head. “Well, I guess she has no home to go to anyway.”
“Sure, Arielle. Let’s get out of here. This place is givin’ me the creeps!”
As they closed the front door, Kofi watched Arielle give one last look at the large, empty house. Her eyes welled again with tears. She was quiet as she got into the backseat.
“Does your mother still work at the downtown Delta office?” Dana asked.
“No, she’s at the Kenwood office. It’s right off Montgomery Road, ten minutes away from here,” Arielle answered, her voice hollow. “Across the street from the mall.”
Kofi drove quickly to the circular parking lot of the glass-enclosed building. Arielle’s mother waited outside. She waved and hurried to the car, sliding into the backseat next to Arielle.
“Thank you so much,” she said. “I really appreciate this, Kofi.”
“No trouble at all,” said Kofi.
Arielle thought, What does a dude say to somebody’s mother who has lost everything—I mean everything? She was beyond embarrassed.
“How’ve you been, Dana? It’s great to see you again,” Arielle’s mom said, her voice oddly hyper.
“I’m good, Mrs. O’Neil,” Dana replied. “We, uh, just left your house. I’m, like, really sorry.”
“This is simply unbelievable,” Arielle’s mom whispered, hugging her daughter.
“Where do you want me to take you, Mrs. O’Neil?” Kofi asked.
“Well, I guess there’s no need for me to go to the house, huh?”
“It’s slick as glass, Mom. He took everything but the wallpaper and the carpet.” Arielle felt like she might cry again.
“Can you drop us at the Holiday Inn down the street, Kofi?” her mother asked. “We’ll stay there for a day or two, then we’ll just have to figure out plan B.”
“Sure thing.”
“Do you have any money?” Arielle whispered to her mom.
“I have enough for now, and I switched the direct deposit of my check before I left work. We’ll be okay, sweetie.”
Kofi pulled into the parking lot of the motel. The car was strangely quiet. “Uh, is there anything else we can do?” he asked.
“We’re all set for now, but I appreciate your kindness and understanding, Kofi,” Arielle’s mom said as she opened the back door.
Dana turned around and told Arielle, “If you need to borrow a couple of outfits next week, let me know.”
Arielle burst into tears.
KOFI
CHAPTER 24
MONDAY, MARCH 7
KOFI HAD THE ITCHES. MILLIONS OF INSECTS crawled on the insides of his arms and legs, it seemed. He couldn’t stop scratching. His fingernails left long, ashy marks on his arms as he tried in vain to make the itching stop.
It had started early that morning, and by lunchtime, Kofi wanted to jump in a pool of lotion or salve or something to make the itching stop. After he gulped down a burger, he stopped by the school nurse’s office.
“Hey, Miss Thornton,” Kofi said, just peeking inside her door.
“Hi Kofi, come on in,” she said cheerfully. Barely five feet tall, Miss Thornton wore high heels every day, in spite of the slippery hall floors. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Uh, I’m fine—not sick or anything. I just want to know if you got some ice I can borrow,” Kofi said. It took all his effort not to scratch as he stood there.
“Borrow?” Miss Thornton asked with a lilting laugh. Kofi thought her voice sounded like a bird’s—almost musical. “It’s going to melt, you know.”
Kofi grinned. “You know what I mean, Miss Thornton.”
“Do you have a headache?” she asked, sounding concerned. She walked over to a small refrigerator.
“Yeah. It’s nothing serious.”
“Well, you know I’m not allowed to give out meds without a doctor’s scrip. Not even colas with caffeine anymore. Just Band-Aids and Jolly Ranchers and ice packs.” She sighed. “I wish I could do more for you kids.”
“I’ll take the candy if it will make you happy,” Kofi told her as she handed him a plastic bag full of ice.
She reached into a dish on her desk and gave him a handful of candy and gum. “Now get to class!” she said.
“Can I have a hall pass back?” he asked her.
“You clean me out of candy and ice, and now you want a reason to be late to class?”
“Yep!” he replied, grinning hopefully.
She scribbled off the pass and sent him on his way. “Seniors!” she said with a shake of her head.
Kofi thanked her, waved, and darted out of her office. The halls were deserted. As soon as he was around the corner, he leaned against a wall and rubbed the ice pack up and down his arms. “Ahh!” The ice cooled his arms, soothing the unbearable itching.
But by the end of his last class, the ice had melted and the itching had returned. He didn’t have the nerve to go back and ask Miss Thornton for more ice. He waited for Jericho by his car.
“What’s wrong with you, man?” Jericho asked as he unlocked the car. “You scratchin’ like you got chicken pox or something.” He tossed his books and his trumpet in the backseat.
Climbing into the front seat of Jericho’s car, Kofi didn’t answer right away. He tried rubbing his arms, but that only made the irritation increase. “It’s nothing,” he said finally. “And thanks for takin’ me over to the Medi-Center. My car decided it was gonna sleep in this morning.”
“I feel you. Your car and my car together don’t make one good vehicle,” Jericho joked.
“I got rotten brakes,” said Kofi.
“And my front fender’s more rust than fender,” Jericho continued.
“My radio won’t work on Tuesday and Thursday!” Kofi was trying not to scratch.
“How come?”
; “Old age. Same reason you’ve had a CD stuck in your player for the past two years!”
“My back door doesn’t open,” Jericho went on.
“And my back door won’t lock!” Kofi said with a grin.
“We need to junk both cars and start over. I think I’ll get me a Maserati,” Jericho said dreamily.
“A hundred thirty-five thousand to start, my man,” said Kofi.
“Chump change!” Jericho joked. “I plan to be both rich and famous one day.”
“Like Arielle’s stepfather?” Kofi kept scratching.
“No, man. From what you told me, he’s like the demon seed or something.”
Kofi nodded. “It was plain crazy, man. He stripped the house clean. I never seen anything like it.”
“Yeah, everybody at school’s talkin’ about it. How’s Arielle doing?” Jericho asked.
Kofi glanced over at his friend. “Why? You worrying about her?”
“Be for real, man. You know Olivia’s my only squeeze.”
“Just checkin’. Dana told me Arielle and her mom are staying at a homeless shelter.”
“Shut up!” said Jericho. “Must be rough for Princess Arielle.”
“You got that right.” The itching increased, and so did Kofi’s scratching.
“Does this X-ray have anything to do with all that scratching?” Jericho asked as they pulled into the parking lot of the Medi-Center on Montgomery Road.
“Nah. My doctor just ordered some more X-rays on my arm—the one I broke when…” His voice trailed off.
Jericho was silent for a moment. “We were so stupid that night.”
Kofi nodded. “My arm is fine, Jericho. And I’m pretty sure my doctor knows that.”
“So why the X-rays?”
Kofi continued to scratch his arms. Then he looked at Jericho and said, “I been takin’ Oxy like a madman, Jericho. Ever since the accident. Even after my arm stopped hurting.”
“Every day?”
“Sometimes several times a day,” Kofi admitted. “I been makin’ up reasons for my doctor to give me more pills.”
“That’s some serious stuff, man.”
Kofi rubbed his arm. “But the doctor figured out what I was doin’, and even worse, Dana found out, so my supply is dry. She made me put them down the garbage disposal.”
Jericho chuckled. “Sounds like Dana. No half-steppin’!”
“The X-ray is so the doctor has medical proof my arm is healed, so I can’t ask him for one more pill. But I won’t. I’m comin’ clean.”
“Is it rough?”
“Well, if you don’t count the vomiting and diarrhea, and the chills and the sweats, it’s a piece of cake!” Kofi thought back to the sleepless nights, the dizziness, and the deep, gnawing hunger for the drug. He exhaled. “I guess the last step is the itches. If I don’t pull my arms off and use them as matchsticks, I think I’ll be straight,” Kofi told him.
“You’re a better man than me,” Jericho said.
“Everybody got messed up some kinda way because of that night,” Kofi said as he got out of the car. “You. Me. November. Dana. Even Arielle.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Kofi slammed the car door. “You got your issues, and I got mine. I’m doin’ the best I can. I’ll be out in twenty minutes. Can you wait?”
“I’ll be here.”
Kofi disappeared into the huge glass doors of the outpatient treatment center.
ARIELLE
CHAPTER 25
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 9
STARTLED BY LOUD COUGHING COMING from across the room, Arielle woke up stiff and confused. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room, she remembered where she was. On a thin mattress. Under a thinner blanket that smelled of Clorox. Close to her mother, who slept in the bed beside her. At the Hillside Valley Shelter on Vine Street.
She had seen no hillsides and no valleys since she and her mother had arrived three days ago. Only cement sidewalks. Outside, cars zoomed past, music from the apartments nearby played loudly, and police sirens shrieked most of the night.
“This is just temporary,” her mother had whispered as they had filled out the paperwork to enroll.
Arielle, almost numb, had merely nodded. The walls were painted a bright blue, as if someone had tried to add artificial cheer. But the faces of the women who wordlessly watched Arielle and her mother from the plastic chairs in the recreation room were drawn. Their children, instead of running and chasing one another with loud games, played quietly and stayed close to their mothers. No amount of color would change anything.
“My name is Sarah Toth,” the gray-haired intake woman had told them. “I want to welcome you two to Hillside Valley.” She shook both their hands warmly. Arielle liked her immediately.
“We just need a place to stay for a few days,” her mother had explained. “We’ve…we’ve no place else to go. It’s because—”
“Explanations are not necessary around here,” Mrs. Toth had said briskly. “You’re here because you’re here, and we’ll take good care of you. It’s not the Ritz, but it’s clean and safe.”
Her mother had relaxed then, but Arielle looked around in dismay. A well-worn sofa sat in the center of a recreation room. A TV was chained to the far wall.
“The last television walked,” Mrs. Toth had explained. “I really hate when I’m forced to decorate like the prison of a medieval castle.”
“How many residents do you have here?” Arielle’s mother had asked as they walked up a flight of barren stairs.
“It varies, depending on the weather and the date. We tend to get a few more around the first of every month—evictions. And around the full moon—no kidding. Men who batter often increase their violence when the moon is high and full in the sky.”
Arielle and her mother had looked at each other knowingly.
“Ordinarily I’d try to give you two a private room, but we’re pretty full this week, and all I have is dorm space,” Mrs. Toth had explained. “Can you share with two other women? Alice and Margaret are kind old souls. They’re sisters—both have been battered all their lives. Both of their spouses have been incarcerated. They’re too old to get jobs, so I expect they’ll be here for a while.”
Arielle and her mother had been introduced to the two elderly women, both in their seventies. Alice was as soft as a pillow when she hugged Arielle in welcome, while her sister Margaret was as thin and brittle as sticks. Except for Alice’s constant coughing at night, they were pleasant roommates.
“If you need clothes, we got something called the Clothes Closet downstairs,” Margaret had told them. “Go first thing in the morning before the good stuff is gone.”
“They’ve got a general store down there too. Toothpaste, deodorant, stuff like that. All free. Set up like a real store, so you don’t feel like you’re a beggar, you know what I mean?” Alice had explained.
“Y’all runnin’ from a bad daddy?” Margaret asked gently.
“Yes, he was pretty bad,” Arielle’s mom replied. She gave no further explanation.
“Understatement of the year,” Arielle muttered.
“We all been there. Talk when you got a mind to,” said Alice, touching Arielle and her mother on their shoulders.
Arielle’s mother had thanked them and immediately began covering their plastic mattresses with the clean sheets they’d been given. Arielle, still stunned at where they had landed, checked out the room.
Four beds had been set up, with a small wooden table next to each. A pair of windows let sun into one side of the room. The bottoms of the pale yellow curtains were frayed, but they were clean.
No rugs decorated the floor. No pictures hung on the blue walls.
The whole far wall had been divided into four sections, with two cabinet drawers at the bottom and poles for hanging clothes at the top of each area. Arielle had nothing to hang.
She sighed deeply. This is so unreal. I want to go home. But she didn’t even know what that meant anymore. Home, for no
w, meant breakfasts of runny oatmeal and powdered eggs sprinkled with parsley, a shared bathroom, a cold linoleum floor, and nothing, not even her underwear, to call her own.
Arielle got up and squeezed into the narrow bed next to her mother. “You smell like baby powder,” she whispered.
“You sleep okay?” her mother asked softly as they snuggled.
“Yeah. Alice needs to get that cough checked,” Arielle replied.
“I hope to get us out of here in a week or two,” her mother promised. “I’m so sorry, Arielle.”
“It’s not your fault, Mom. This is all Chad.”
“Chad. What a huge mistake that was!”
“I’m not gonna fight you on that one.”
“You and I started here, you know,” her mother admitted. “Well, a place just like this. I feel like such a failure, bringing you back to a place like this once again. It’s like I’m going backward instead of forward in my life.”
Arielle bit her lip, aching over her mother’s pain. She thought for a moment, then said, “I don’t really remember it much. But as long as I’m with you, Mom, everything is gonna be okay.”
Her mother hugged her close. Then she said, “Gee, you feel thin.”
Arielle pulled away from her mom a little. “I haven’t been eating so good, I guess. I’m just so glad it’s over, Mom.”
“I put up with that man way too long.”
Arielle sat up on one elbow. “Mom, you’re a grown woman, and you let a smooth-talking, good-looking man put you on punishment! How messed up is that? What was wrong with you?”
Her mother sat up on the bed. “Even moms make mistakes, sweetheart,” she said finally.
“I’d rather live forever in this shelter,” Arielle said with finality, “than ever have to see the face of Chadwick Kensington O’Neil again.”
They slapped palms. “For real!” Then, her voice serious, her mother promised, “We’ll be out of here soon.”
“I don’t care, Mom. They have hot meals and free toilet paper!” They both laughed a little.
“And I want my Kiki back,” her mother added. “I’m getting her out of that place as soon as I can. She needs her mom.”