Finding Fortune (12 page)

“Well, then…” Garrett's voice trailed off as he lodged the rake and shovel in the back of the truck. “Thanks so much for your help, Ren … and the company of course.” He slammed the tailgate and slid his hands into his back jeans pockets with a wistful smile. “It can get sort of lonely around here.”

“It was good to see you too,” I said, turning to go. But then I stopped. “So you'll watch out for him, right? Hugh, I mean. To make sure Tucker isn't picking on him or anything?”

“I will.” Garrett gave a firm nod. “And,” he added, “I don't think anyone would mind if you paid a visit sometime to see for yourself.”

“Really?” I squinted up at him through a blaze of sunlight that had come streaming into the alleyway. “Are you sure?”

It was too bright to see Garrett's expression, but I heard him say “I'm sure” in that rumbly voice of his, and a little swell of happiness rose up inside me as I waved goodbye.

Before I left Fortune, I stood straddling my bike in the middle of Front Street. My handlebars were pointed toward home, but I couldn't resist taking a long look over my shoulder at the lonely road that led to the turnoff for the school. I knew I'd find a way to go back. I just didn't know how, or when.

 

FOURTEEN

THE SECOND WEEK
of SAG dragged by at a zombie's pace. Each day seemed worse than the last. On Thursday we presented our imaginary cities to the group, and I came close to shrieking at Arnold when it was our turn to do Moleville. We had decided that I'd be in charge of the introduction and describing our city's energy sources, but I couldn't get through two sentences without Arnold trying to take over. “And all the tunnels will have natural lighting,” he interrupted for the third time. “We're bringing the sunlight in through fiber-optic cables.”

When Stretch finally asked him to cut it out, Arnold crossed his arms and refused to say another word. So I had to do the whole last half by myself while he stood behind me making impatient noises in his throat like I was getting everything wrong.

Needless to say, I wasn't too excited that afternoon when Stretch told us to gather around so he could announce our next project. Never in a million years would I have guessed that the dreaded Summer Academy for the Gifted would offer the solution—the perfect excuse to convince Mom to let me go back to the school. But five minutes later, once I had heard the details of our new assignment, I was patting the button blank in my pocket and smiling to myself, thinking my luck had finally turned around.

Now I just needed to find the right time to present my case.

Unfortunately dinner wasn't an option, because Nora had talked Mom into letting Alain come over even though we were still grounded. There was no way I could bring up the school with Alain making moony eyes at my sister and Mom flitting back and forth offering him more Tater Tots and Sloppy Joe sandwiches.

It took another couple of hours for Alain to say
bonsoir.
I was brushing my teeth when Mom came into the bathroom carrying a basket of clean towels. By then I was too grumpy and tired to be very clever with my approach. I spit my mouthful of water into the sink and said, “I know I'm still supposed to be grounded and all, but I need you to make an exception for Saturday.”

I watched my mother's face in the mirror. One eyebrow lifted. “Oh? And why's that?”

“It's an assignment for SAG,” I said. I reached for my hairbrush, trying to act casual. “Stretch wants us all to pick a community service project and we're supposed to start volunteering this weekend.”

“Okay,” Mom said simply, as she set the laundry basket on the side of the tub.

I stopped with my brush in midair and turned around in surprise. “Really?”

She nodded. “I was already thinking two weeks was long enough for you and Nora to be grounded, and I won't be here on Saturday so I'm glad you'll have something to keep you busy.”

“Why? Where are you going?”

Mom bent down to pick up a dirty washcloth. When she stood up, her face was flushed. “I'm going to do it, Ren,” she declared. “I'm going to start my EMR training on Saturday.”

“EMR training? What's that?”

“Emergency Medical Responder,” Mom said excitedly. “Once I'm qualified, I can volunteer for the rescue squad.”

“Ohhh.” My voice swooped up, full of poison. “Now I get it. I'm not grounded anymore so you can go off with Rick and learn how to rescue people.” I bumped against Mom's shoulder on my way out of the bathroom. Then I shoved past Nora, who had been lurking in the hall, probably eavesdropping on our whole conversation.

“I knew that's what you would think!” Mom cried as she followed me to my bedroom. “But this isn't about Rick. Sure, he's the one who got me interested, but we won't be in class together. He already finished his training a long time ago.”

I stood in front of my window, breathing hard while Mom kept arguing her case behind me. “Look, Ren. I've discovered something important these past few months. One of the main reasons I've been so unhappy lately is because of my job. My life at work is all about profits and losses and keeping track of money nonstop, and you know what? I miss being around
people
. These classes will give me the chance to explore something new and to do work that's … that's
alive and breathing
.”

I realized I was still holding my brush. “So fine,” I snapped as I began ripping the bristles through my tangled hair. I whirled around to face Mom. “Go off and do your rescue squad stuff with Rick. Do whatever you want! But just so you know, I've already picked my service project and it's the school in Fortune.”

Mom's face went blank. “The school?”

“We're all supposed to pick a cause that we care about. Then we have to volunteer there at least three Saturdays. So I've decided to work at the school for my project.”

Mom pulled her chin back in disbelief. “Honestly, Ren,” she snorted. “You think I'm going to let you go back to that crazy place with all those squatters hanging around?”

“They're not squatters!” I shot back, even though I had no idea what a squatter was.

“And how do you think the school qualifies as a service project?” Mom went on. “That woman who owns it is running a business, not a charity.”

“No, you don't understand. Hildy's making a museum in the gym and she needs help.”

Mom threw up her hands. “A museum! What museum? You never mentioned anything about a museum before.”

“That's because you were too mad to listen. You never even asked me about what it was like there.” I sank onto my bed. My scalp hurt from brushing so hard. “It's a button museum and it could be really cool if—”

“A
button
museum?”

Suddenly, Nora appeared behind Mom in the doorway. She held her finger to her lips, signaling for me to pipe down. “Listen, Mom,” she said as she came over to sit beside me. “You should let Ren go. You've got this EMR training that you're excited about, and you want Ren to support you, right? So you should do the same for her. I talked to the lady who owns that place, remember?”

Mom gave her a dry look. “Yes. Believe me, I remember.”

“Well,” Nora breezed on. “She sounded perfectly nice … and really responsible.” Nora looked at me. “What's her name? Mrs. Baxter?”

I nodded with my mouth open, torn between wanting to hug Nora or hit her. Judging by the offhand way she had said “EMR training,” I could tell she wasn't hearing about Mom's rescue squad plans for the first time.

“That's the other thing!” Mom continued arguing. “You two tricked that woman. Outright lied to her.” She swiveled to face me. “Do you really think she's going to welcome you back with open arms?”

“Well, maybe not with open arms, but—”

“Mom,” Nora cut in. “Why don't you just give Mrs. Baxter a call and talk to her about it? I gave you her number, remember?”

Mom pressed her lips together tight. “Fine,” she agreed after a heavy pause. “But I'm not promising anything.” I blinked at Nora in amazement. All at once, I was ready to forgive her for everything—for her cute French boyfriend and her straight silky hair and her cell phone with its glittery case—even for being so chipper about Mom's plans to join the rescue squad with Rick. I'd have to stew over that later. But for now all I could think about was Saturday and whether Hildy would let me come back.

 

FIFTEEN

EVEN THOUGH MOM WAS RUNNING LATE
for her rescue squad class, she slowed the car to a creep as we bumped into the driveway of the school.

“I don't know, Ren…” she said, eyeing everything suspiciously—the potholes, the rotten seesaws, and the rusted swing set. Mayor Joy was standing on a ladder at the far end of the parking lot with his head stuck under the hood of his eighteen-wheeler. I could see Wayne grazing in a patch of tall grass nearby.

“What's wrong?” I asked impatiently. We had it all planned. Mom was supposed to drop me and my bike off, then head back to town for her class. But now she was acting like she might change her mind.

Luckily Mayor Joy hopped down from his ladder and trotted over to Mom's window before she could put the car in reverse. “Mornin',” he said cheerily, crouching down so he could see us. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, Mayor Joy,” I said, giving him an embarrassed little wave from the passenger seat.

His eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh, hey there! How you doing, young lady?” He glanced at Mom, who so far had remained stony behind her sunglasses. “Didn't think I'd ever see you two again.”

“Yes, well,” Mom answered uncomfortably. “My daughter's here for a service project. She wants to help in Mrs. Baxter's … button museum. I called yesterday and Mrs. Baxter said it would be fine, but now I'm wondering if I should go inside and make sure it's still all right for Ren to spend the day here.”

I had been watching Wayne come ambling over as Mom was talking, and now he stretched out his neck, opened his grizzled muzzle wide, and let out a screechy hee-haw right behind the Mayor's ear.

My mother jumped in her seat and the Mayor whirled around. “Dang it, Wayne!” he cried. “Get on out of here!” He turned back to us, wincing. “My apologies, ladies. Wayne forgets his manners sometimes.”

I was relieved when Mom laughed. “Well, I didn't know what to expect here this morning,” she said, taking off her sunglasses, “but it certainly wasn't
that
.” She checked her watch and gave Mayor Joy a searching look. I squirmed impatiently in my seat. How could she not trust a friendly old mayor who owned a pet donkey? “I
am
actually running a little late,” Mom said nervously. “Do you think it's okay if I don't go in?”

“Perfectly fine,” the Mayor assured her. “Hildy's going to be delighted to see your daughter. Believe me, she needs all the help she can get.”

I jumped out of the car.

“I want you home by five, okay?” Mom reminded me through the window once she had popped the trunk and Mayor Joy had helped me lift my bike to the ground. I nodded over my shoulder as I parked my bike in the grass and turned to follow him up the steps. When I looked back, Mom was still there. “Wish me luck?” she called. Her voice hung in the air, high and thin, like a little girl's. I could feel how mean it was, but somehow, I couldn't make myself do it—wish my mother luck as she headed off to follow in Rick's footsteps. All I could do was lift my arm in a halfhearted wave.

Mayor Joy was holding the door open for me. “I bet Hildy's in the gym waiting for you,” he said with a kind nod. “I've got to finish up a few things on my truck, but you go on in.”

In the foyer, I glanced around, hoping I might catch a glimpse of Hugh hiding behind something or spying from the janitor's closet. But there was no trace of him, and when I got to the museum, I didn't see Hildy or Tucker either. I wandered along the edges of the gym, craning my neck to see over the piles of clutter and admiring the improvements that had been made in the last two weeks. The passageways had been widened. All the old button-company signs had been hung on the walls. And over on the other side of the gym, the button-cutting machines had been cleaned up and arranged in orderly rows for display.

“Hello?” I called timidly. No one answered. “Anyone home?” I hollered louder.

“Up here,” someone croaked. I tipped my head back, scanning the balcony. After a minute, Hildy appeared at the far railing halfway down the gym. “The door to the stairs is over there,” she called. “Next to the storage room.”

The Mayor said Hildy would be “delighted” to see me, but she certainly didn't sound like it.
She's probably still mad,
I worried, as I picked my way up the staircase and stepped into the jumble of keepsakes that had been stuffed into the balcony.

I found Hildy sitting in a fold-out chair, thumbing through a pile of old photographs. Now it was obvious—something was definitely wrong. She wasn't wearing a single smudge of makeup and she barely looked in my direction as I wedged myself into the space beside her.

“Hi there,” I said. There was a shoe box of pictures on a wooden trunk next to Hildy's chair. I scooted it aside so I could sit down. “Thanks for letting me come back.” My mouth felt as dry as chalk as I scrambled for words to fill the silence. “I know you must have been really disappointed in me for lying to you, and I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am.”

Hildy gave a little nod.

“Mom told you about the assignment for my summer camp, right?” I rambled on. “The community service thing? Well, everybody else at my camp is doing boring stuff like helping stock shelves at the food bank or clearing trails in the park, but I thought the museum would be way more interesting than those other projects.”