Calling Maggie May (14 page)

Sat, March 7

My phone is ringing. The pink phone.

It's like everything I have tried to do to walk away from that existence is falling apart around me. First that horrible experience with Tyler, so I don't even feel safe in the water anymore. I told my parents I don't want to go back to the pool again, and of course they are confused since I bargained so hard for this. Why don't I want it all of a sudden? And what can I say to them? But what does it matter even? They are going to find out all about me soon anyway. Now that Tyler knows, it's only a matter of time.

And now Irma's phone is ringing. And it's not Ada.

I don't understand it because usually when they want to set up a date, I get a text from Anne, or sometimes from Irma. And only if I ignore that, then they'll call. But there was no text this time, just a ringing phone. Even though I haven't heard from Ada in more than a week, I remember her last words to me. I remember how she told me not to talk to Irma ever again, to quit, to ignore all her attempts to contact me, to throw the phone into the bay.

So I won't answer. They called back three times in twenty minutes, but now it's been two hours with no calls, so maybe I am off the hook.

Sat, March 7, later

Phone is ringing again. I'm just staring at it, not answering. I mean, for all they know, I could have thrown it into the bay. I don't have to answer it.

It's weird, though. . . . Somehow, every time it rings, I feel like Miss Irma can see me.

Mon, March 9

They found me. I guess it didn't matter that I didn't answer the phone, because they just found another way to get to me. Now I'm in a mess, but maybe I can help Ada at least.

The phone kept ringing yesterday, and this morning while I was in school. It was getting more and more frequent, but I kept ignoring it.

Then, after school today, I was walking toward the buses and I happened to glance over to where Miss Irma's cars used to pick up me and Ada to take us to our dates. And there it was: Irma's car. At the sight of it, I sort of froze and stared. I certainly didn't have a date scheduled, and Ada hadn't been on the school grounds in almost two weeks, so who was it
there for? I wondered if someone else at the school had started hooking. Maybe one of the younger kids. But some part of me knew that was not what was going on. I just had this dark sense, like something bad was about to happen, and all I could think to do was get away. I put my head down and forced myself to keep walking toward the buses, but I didn't make it more than a few steps before I heard someone call my name. More on instinct than by choice, I stopped and turned.

It was a big, solidly built man. Definitely not someone usually on the school grounds, but he looked strangely familiar. He said my name again, and that's when it clicked into place—I'd seen him at the Valentine's party. He was one of Miss Irma's security force. The people Ada had referred to as “goons.” The people Ada had warned me about.

“You better come with me,” said the man.

My feet felt frozen to the pavement. Everything in my body was screaming at me to get away from this situation. As long as I was here at the school, this crowd of students swarming around me, there wasn't much this man could do to me. Following him into that car, I'd be putting myself at risk. Of what, I wasn't sure. I couldn't think of anything Miss Irma would want to do to me, or why, but I couldn't ignore Ada's warning. Something had scared her, and that was enough to scare me.

Again he asked me to come with him. Calmly, quietly, but with just a hint of a threat.

I wanted to tell him no, but I couldn't find the words, so I just shook my head and turned away, back toward the buses. Then I heard his voice again.

“It's about Ada.”

I turned around. “Is she all right?”

“I think you'd better come with me.”

So I went. What choice did I have? Yes, it was risky and scary and I had no clue what I was getting myself into, but if there was any chance of finding out what happened to Ada, of helping her if she was in trouble, there was no way I was going to refuse that.

Once at the downtown office, Anne met me and showed me in to Miss Irma.

“I'm so glad you came,” she said. “I got worried when you ignored my messages.”

“I'm sorry about that,” I said. “I can return the phone. I've . . . I've decided to get out of the business.”

Irma looked slightly surprised. “Of course,” she said. “You are free to leave anytime you want, as I said. But maybe you should keep the phone for now.” That sounded a bit ominous. “It is inconvenient when people lose track of their phones,” Irma went on. “You know I worry about my employees. I like to
check on them, make sure they are okay. I'm very worried about Ada, because she doesn't answer her phone this past week. But perhaps you can tell me where she is.”

My heart sank. I had hoped Irma would tell me where Ada was.

“I don't know anything about Ada,” I said. “I haven't heard from her in a while.”

“I see,” said Irma. “Are you sure, though? Think hard.”

What could I say or do to convince Miss Irma I had even less information than she did? When I didn't answer right away, Miss Irma changed her tack.

“Don't play dumb. You're in this together.”

That had me confused.

“In what?” I said.

“I am not unreasonable,” Irma went on. “I'm not some violent gangster. I'm a businesswoman. I respect free enterprise. I admire Ada's ambition to go into business for herself. We all have to start somewhere. But one thing I do not accept is poaching clients. Damon is my client, not yours. You girls think you are the attraction, but you are easily replaced. I earned my cut of your little scheme, and I want it.”

So that's what this was about: Damon. I should have guessed. But how did she find out? Of course, my big mouth at the Valentine's party. She could have heard me, or anyone there
could have blabbed to her. So this really was all my fault, then.

“We didn't earn anything,” I rushed to explain to Irma. “It wasn't like that. I swear. It was a freebie. Ada was just setting a couple of friends up on a date. We didn't charge him.”

I only realized once the words left my mouth how unlikely my story sounded, even though it was true. The look on Miss Irma's face showed that she was thinking the same thing.

“Really?” she said with more than a hint of sarcasm. “A whore and her virgin friend seduce a rich young client and no money changed hands?” Miss Irma shook her head. “Maybe an innocent idiot like you could wander into this situation by accident, but Ada is not so stupid. She knows very well the price of a virgin. She's far too clever to let that slide, even for a friend.”

“I promise you it's true,” I said a little desperately. “There was no money.”

“Save your pleas,” she said with an airy wave of the hand. “It doesn't matter one way or the other. It's not my fault if you were too stupid to charge him. I'm still owed the money I should have gotten. Ada owes me a debt and she ran out on it, so now you owe me a debt. Either pay me, or find Ada for me so she can pay me. Your choice.”

So that was it. That was why Ada wasn't returning my calls. But that meant that if I could solve this problem, if I could settle her debt, she could come back.

I asked Miss Irma how much it was. When I heard the amount, I had a moment of relief combined with hopelessness. I have it . . . or almost. It's just a little bit more than I have saved for the apartment I was going to get with Ada. But handing it over to Miss Irma means the death of that fantasy, once and for all.

Well, since Ada's not speaking to me, I guess it was pretty much dead anyway.

I told Miss Irma I could get her the money. She looked surprised, and more than a little suspicious.

“You can? When?”

“I can pay you now,” I said. “Or tomorrow,” I corrected myself. “I just need to run home and get it.”

Irma looked at me closely.

“You've been saving your pennies,” she observed. I didn't say anything. “I underestimated you,” she went on. “You're not as stupid as I thought, though you should pick your friends more carefully in the future. You can save all the money in the world, but it won't be any good if your friends skip town and leave you with their debts.”

My face burned at the insult, but I tried to stay focused. “Ada skipped town?” This was the information I had come for

Miss Irma shrugged delicately. “As far as I know. My people have searched the whole city for her. If you think you know
where she might be, by all means, hunt her down. As long as I get my money, it's all the same to me.”

I have an appointment to drop off the necessary cash at Miss Irma's office in just under twenty-four hours. I've pulled my little savings from under my bed and counted it all out on the covers. I'm almost there but not quite. I hate to do this, but I think I'm going to have to sneak some bills out of my mom's mah-jongg jar. I know it's wrong, but I don't even know what Miss Irma's goons might do to me or Ada if I don't pay up. And I don't really want to find out.

Can I really do this? I have the money, but it's every last bit I saved. All my dreams for the future and all my hopes of escaping this awful life. What do I do after this? Go back to Miss Irma and start taking dates again, try to build it back up? But what's the point, with Ada gone? Without the money and without her, I don't even know what my dream is anymore.

Can it really be that what Miss Irma said is true? That Ada abandoned me to deal with this debt on my own, so she wouldn't have to? Of course, she did warn me not to talk to Miss Irma ever again. I guess she was hoping I could just avoid the problem and slip quietly back into my old life. But she must have known Miss Irma's goons would come after me. Why didn't she just come to me? If she had told me the situation, we could have fixed it together.

I called and texted her to let her know that I am paying her debt and that she's in the clear, but I just keep getting voice mail. I don't understand why she doesn't respond.

This is driving me crazy. I have to know what happened to her. I'm sure Miss Irma's goons have already checked Ada's house, but maybe her mom will be able to tell me something. It can't hurt to ask.

Mon, March 9, later

I'm at Ada's house. It was stupid to come here. I don't know what I expected to learn. Obviously Ada wasn't going to just be sitting here, watching TV. And if I was hoping her mom would be able to give me some clues, it doesn't look like that's going to happen.

When I got here, it was almost eerie how normal the place looked. Just sitting there in the gathering shadows of dusk, like all the other houses on the streets. The lights were on, giving it a cozy glow, and the twilight hid the shabbiness and disrepair of the place. I knocked on the door and waited a bit but didn't hear anything. I started to wonder if Ada's mom could have gone out and left all the lights on. I was about to give up and walk away when I heard a sound from inside the house. I held my breath and listened. Someone was definitely inside. Heart hammering, I raised my hand to knock once more, but just then I heard another sound, this time much closer. A door latch.

The door opened, but only a crack. The chain was still done up, preventing the door from opening more than a couple of inches. Behind it stood a haggard, anxious-eyed woman who I assumed to be Ada's mother.

“Hi!” I said brightly, trying to seem as nonthreatening as possible. “I'm a friend of Ada's. I used to come by and visit sometimes, but I don't think we ever met.”

Ada's mom didn't say anything, but her eyes slid up and down my body, drawing in every detail. I couldn't tell if I was winning her over.

“I was just wondering if . . .” I hesitated. How much did Ada's mom know? How much should I give away, and how much should I hold back? I decided to keep it simple for now. “Do you know where she is?”

“Do you know where she is?” she said in a cracked, wavering voice.

I shifted uncomfortably. I honestly couldn't tell if she was asking me about Ada's whereabouts or just repeating what I said, as if she barely spoke the language but was trying out the sounds.

“No,” I answered at last, trying to keep my voice calm and neutral. “I don't know, but I am looking for her. Do you remember when you last saw her? Do you know how to get in touch with her?”

“You're not one of them, are you?” she said. “You don't seem like one of them. Unless you're trying to trick me.”

“One of who?” I wondered if she'd had some run-in with Miss Irma's goons. That might explain some of her behavior. “Have people been here, looking for Ada? Other people?”

“I think they got her,” she said, leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially. “They were looking for her and then they must have come and taken her away.”

“Taken her away?” I said. “Who took her away? When? What did they look like?”

I didn't want to stress her out or put too much pressure on her clearly fragile psyche, but I had to know what she had seen. I was feeling frantic. Was she talking about Miss Irma's goons? But if they had come and taken Ada away, why would they ask me where she is? Who else would be looking for Ada? Who would take her away? The police? Or was it possible that she was mixed up in something else?

“Please,” I said. “Try to remember. Who took her away? If you remember anything at all . . .”

The woman shook her head. “You should stay away, if you know what's good for you. It's dangerous here.”

“Dangerous?”

“We're being watched,” she whispered hoarsely. “You have to act normal because they are always watching.”

“Who is watching? The people who took Ada?” Instinctively, I jerked my head around to look up and down the street, but everything looked normal.

“She might be working for them. I didn't want to believe it either, not at first, but I don't think I can trust her.”

She had figured out Ada was working for Miss Irma, then. That made some sense, even if she was confused about the details.

“Did she tell you where she was going?”

“She went with them, or they took her, or she is spying on me for them. I don't think I can trust her. She was always watching me, but I don't think it's her fault. They got to her.”

“Who got to her?” I asked, growing desperate for any real information.

“Tom,” said the woman in an anxious whisper.

“Tom?” I repeated. “Tom who?”

“He got to her, just like he got to Katie. Tom and Angelina and Miley. They're planning something. It's got something to do with me, but I don't know what yet. I tried to get Ada to help, but she was working for them already, watching me and reporting to them. I used to follow their messages to each other on the Internet, but then I realized they could see me too, so I had to stop. I turned it off, but that made them angry. That's when they got to Ada.”

With a sick feeling in my stomach, I suddenly remembered all the celebrity gossip magazines I had noticed when I had visited Ada in the past. It was impossible to tell how much of my conversation with Ada's mom had been based in fact and how much based in her paranoid delusions. Ada had told me that her mom had “episodes,” and she had hinted that they were getting worse. It seemed as though she was in the middle of a bad one.

I wondered if that was part of why Ada had left. Maybe even more than her debt to Miss Irma. If her mom had turned on her, had decided that Ada was part of some master conspiracy against her, that could be pretty hard to live with.

In any case, it was becoming pretty clear that I wasn't going to get any solid information out of Ada's mom, and the longer I talked to her, the more I risked her slotting me in with whoever else might be out to “get” her. I thanked her for her time and let her close the door. Now I'm sitting on the garden wall under a streetlamp, trying to decide what to do next. I guess this is a dead end, like I thought it would be. I'll try texting Ada one more time, letting her know I'm here. If she ever does check her messages, she'll at least know I cared enough to look.

That's weird. Something just caught my eye. Now I'm not even sure if I really saw anything, or if Ada's mom's delusions have gone to my head, but I could have sworn I saw a flash of
light from that window. The window to Ada's bedroom. It's the only room in the house with no light on, but it looks like something flickered in there. Would it be crazy if I crept over there and peeked in the window?