Have You Found Her (14 page)

Oh!
Speaking of which. I jumped up to see if I could catch Jodi, but she was gone.

Hey, Jodi, what happened with that cult thing?

I finally got the story from Ashley, and I brought it home to Bill like a bouquet of flowers—
Look what I got for you!

“Whoa,” he said, rapt, as I described the scene—the girls packing their bags in a frenzy to go off with the cultists, the counselors and security guards begging them to stay; then the gaggle of kids all filing back into the shelter again with their heads hung, accompanied by the police, requesting readmission. “That’s it?”

“Yep.” I spread my hands like a blackjack dealer. “Pretty crazy, huh?”

“That’s a chart topper,” he mused. “That’s up there with the best of Samantha Dunleavy.”

“Right?” I didn’t linger on the subject of Sam—it had ceased to be a sore one between us, but I was definitely prattling on about her less than before, especially tonight.
So, how’s the kid today? Well, she’s never getting to rehab.
I just smiled and passed the salad dressing. “And how was your day, Shmoo?”

Internally, however, the subject was so sore it was blistered. The idea chafed at me constantly—maybe our relationship wasn’t helping Sam after all. Maybe it wasn’t helping anybody. I’d been so sure I was doing the right thing, running to the psych ward every day, whether or not I was actually in the mood to hear about the worst of human depravity and try to mitigate its aftermath. Now Sam had sabotaged her spot in rehab, and I was part of the reason why. I couldn’t avoid it anymore. I really had to take a break—for her sake, if not my own.

I was at my desk the next day when my cell phone buzzed, displaying the number of the psych ward pay phone.

Voice mail,
I instructed myself, but a shriller voice prevailed—
Emergency!

I picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hey Janice, it’s Sam.” Her voice was a little rushed, with an undertone of panic; she tried to cover by sounding upbeat. “I just wanted to let you know, I found out they’re sending me to that thirty-day rehab in Larchmont on Wednesday.”

“That’s great!” I felt a huge rush of relief—
so she’d make it to rehab after all!
—then a stab of separation anxiety. Wednesday was only two days away. Well, obviously I couldn’t take a break from her
now.
I had to see her before she left; we had plans to make. She’d have to give me a list of things she needed, like for summer camp; I’d have to give her my address, so she could write. Maybe I could even escort her to rehab—the social worker at the hospital had come over to our couch during visiting hours the other night, introduced herself, said she appreciated my commitment to Sam.
If there’s anything I can do to help Sam…,
I’d told her.
There might be,
she’d said.

“Anyway,” I continued, “I can’t wait to hear all about it. I’ll see you tonight as soon as visiting hours start. I think it’s six to eight tonight, right?”

“Yep. See you then.”

I put my phone away, smiling. I’d pore over my bookshelves later, see if there was anything I hadn’t loaned her already that she might like to read. I’d ask her if she wanted something special to eat for our going-away party. She’d shown me a list of things she wanted to do before going away.
Fly a kite
was one.
Go to the dog run. Learn how to yo-yo.
Maybe I’d get her a yo-yo.

An hour later, my phone rang again. Sam again.

“Hello again,” I answered, amused.

There was no hiding the panic in her voice now. “Janice, they’re saying you can’t see me anymore, they’re saying you can’t come visit. Why are they doing this to me? I can’t believe it. I’m gonna—”

“What?” I jumped out of my chair, almost tripped and fell over. “What do you mean? Who said that?”

“Nadine, at the shelter,” she cried. “And her boss, Kathy. And the hospital. The social worker just told me.”

“The one I met the other night? Why?”

“I don’t know! They said you were coming too much; they think there’s something wrong with it. Janice, why are they doing this?”

Oh, this was bad. I’d been visiting her every day, I’d brought her presents, given her my phone number, promised her a trip. I winced—she’d recently asked me for a Polaroid of myself, and I’d given her one. Oh, this looked very, very bad. I folded my arm against my chest, tried to breathe deeply. “Sam, I don’t know why they’re doing this, but I’m going to call Nadine and find out, and then I’ll call you right back.”

“Okay. But don’t ask for me, ask for…Britta, she’ll come get me. Janice, I’m really…I’m really freaking out.”

Yeah, so was I. But I had to stay calm, and so did she. Nothing had happened yet; this could all be a misunderstanding. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll call you back when I hear from Nadine. Just hang in there, and don’t punch anything.”

“Okay,” she whimpered, “but—”

Damn it, Sam.
I didn’t have time to babysit her—I had to do damage control. “I’m serious! Stay calm, or they’re going to think something fishy is going on. If you throw a shit fit, they’re going to say our relationship is bad for you. So you have to
cool off
. I will fix this, and I will come see you. Okay?”

I was surprised by the firmness in my voice, how sure and capable I sounded. I would fix this, because I was the adult. For once, crisis was bringing out the best in me, instead of the worst. “Okay,” she said, more convinced this time.

“I will call you as soon as I talk to Nadine. Now, go show them that you’re calm and compliant. All right?”

I hung up and tried to take my own advice for once. I had to calm down and stop hyperventilating before I called Nadine in a lather and made it all sound worse than it was.
Everything’s okay,
I told myself, channeling Bill’s reassuring voice. There had been a misunderstanding, but everything was going to be okay.

I dialed the shelter and asked for Nadine. She picked up right away. “Older Females.”

“Hi, Nadine, it’s Janice.” I kept my voice light and friendly.

Her voice was neither. “Juh
neece
. I was just going to call you.”

“Okay. Is everything all right?”

“No.”
Uh-oh.
“It’s not a good idea for you to visit Samantha right now. I told you, she’s too disturbed, and she’s got to get to rehab this time—”

“I agree,” I interjected, still trying for calm, a fake smile plastered on my face as I paced the living room. “Look, I’m fine with not visiting, I just wanted to make sure—”

Nadine blew air through her teeth, frustrated. “I told you, Juh
neece,
if you visit her, you go off the record, not as a volunteer. The social worker said you told her you were Sam’s caseworker.”

“I never said I was her caseworker!” I caught myself yelling and modified my tone. “I never said that. She asked me how Sam and I met, and I said the shelter, but I never said I was her caseworker.”

Nadine did not play any he-say she-say. “Well, I don’t know who said what to who, but everything is too confused right now. You need to step away. The hospital is telling me you were trying to escort her to rehab. That’s not your job! And now Samantha says she doesn’t want to go unless
you
take her. Because she thinks if you take her, she can get away with something. And I’m not going to let that happen.”

I breathed deeply and tried again. “Nadine, I understand there’s been confusion, and I’m sorry if I added to it in any way, but I never said I was her caseworker, and I wasn’t trying to escort her to rehab. The social worker said maybe it might help, but obviously it wouldn’t, and I—”

“But I told you, don’t be so involved with her, and then I hear you’re visiting her every day. And now I don’t know who’s telling me the truth, or what’s going on, but I am telling you, you cannot see her anymore. When she comes back here from rehab, you can see each other on Wednesday nights. But no more visits now. Samantha is trying to manipulate the situation, and pit everybody against each other, and it’s working. No more.”

“Okay.” At least she mentioned Wednesdays. She wasn’t canning me, not yet, anyway. “I understand. But I still think there was some miscommunication—”

“Juh
neece
!” Nadine’s voice rose sharply, and I cringed. “You understand what I’m telling you. I don’t have time for this. Samantha is not our only resident. I have too much to do. You don’t visit her anymore until she goes to rehab. That’s it.”

“All right.”
But I’m innocent!
I wanted to say.
It’s not fair!
Okay, so I’d visited a lot—I thought that made me a
concerned citizen,
not a criminal. I clenched my teeth in frustration; she wouldn’t let me clear my name. “I’m sorry for the confusion, Nadine, I appreciate—”

“I will see you on Wednesday,” she said, and hung up.

I put the phone down, reeling. What the fuck was this, now? What could have happened since yesterday to ring Nadine’s alarm? What had Sam told them? What did that dingbat social worker say? I called the pay phone at the psych ward, where it took a chain of three residents to get Sam on the line.

“Hello?” she said, meek.

“Hey there. So listen. I spoke to Nadine, and she’s serious. I can’t visit. They said I was passing myself off as a counselor, and that I shouldn’t have offered to escort you to rehab, and that’s why they—”

She broke in, whining. “But I want you to escort me! Why won’t they let you visit me? I’m all freaked out here, and they’re trying to take away my only support! What am I supposed to do? I’m gonna—”

“Sam.” My firm, capable voice was back, I noticed; I was the adult again. “Listen to me. I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I can’t come see you, but I can call you, and you can call me. Okay? Nobody’s taking away your support. They’re not ending our friendship. They can’t do that.”

“But it’s not fair! You weren’t doing anything wrong! Why are they doing this to me?” I could hear her quick breath, feel her heart racing like it was my own.

“You’ve got to keep it together,” I warned. “Remember what I said before? Be cool, or they will suspect foul play. And I’m in enough trouble here—I don’t know who told them I was supposed to be your caseworker, but they’re ready to fire me as a volunteer, okay?”

“I never told them you were my caseworker! I just said you were like a counselor to me! And now they won’t let you come because I said that? That’s totally…”

I closed my eyes and tried to summon my strength. So she’d told them I was her “counselor.” No wonder the social worker had been so impressed by my visits; no wonder she’d mentioned me escorting Sam to rehab. She thought I was a social worker.

Samantha is trying to manipulate the situation,
Nadine had said.
And it’s working
.

“Sam, there’s nothing we can do about it today. The only thing we can do is not make the situation worse. You’ve got to calm down and accept this. I want to visit you just as much as you want me to. But I will see you as soon as I can, when you get to rehab. If you do something crazy right now, you’ll have to stay in the psych ward, and they won’t let me visit you at all. Is that what you want?”

“No.” She was meek again, her voice frail and sorrowful. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got you in trouble.”

“You didn’t get me in trouble.” I’d gotten myself into it. “Just let’s both try to stay out of trouble in the future, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow, and I’ll ask for Britta, and if you need to call me, you know you can, anytime—just, be discreet about it, okay? We’ll play along for a day, and then you’re going to Larchmont, and life will change very much for the better.”

“I know. I just wish…it would mean so much if I could see you.”

Yeah, it would. To see her, and to give her a hug good-bye. To tell her one more time, face-to-face, before she went away, how proud I was of her, and how grateful I was to be in her life. I didn’t even know if she’d actually make it to rehab, or if she’d ditch her escort and run; I didn’t know if she’d stay once she got there. As always, every time I let her out of my sight, I risked never seeing her again.

“I will see you as soon as I can,” I promised. “You know I will.”

I wasn’t looking forward to going to the shelter that Wednesday. I wanted more than anything to blow it off, to say to Nadine, “You know, I come here every week at my own expense for no reason except the kindness of my heart and soul, but I don’t have to.” And “If you don’t like the way I volunteer, maybe I shouldn’t volunteer at all.” I mean, Nadine had basically called me a liar, told me I was out of line, and hung up on me. Why? Because I had shown an above-average level of commitment to a young person who needed it? I mean, rules aside, I wasn’t a detriment to Sam. I didn’t see how it hurt the other girls if I visited Sam at the psych ward. This was bullshit; they acted like I needed them more than they needed me. And to impugn my character, to insinuate that I’d been
improper
in any way—that was practically slander.

Still, I had to go. I couldn’t quit volunteering over Sam; that would be proving them right. I had to take my own advice again, hold my head up and show them that I was a team player. My bead bag seemed extra heavy and odious as I dragged it down the block toward the shelter, and my feet didn’t want to take me there. The only consolation was the memory of the message from Sam that morning—“I’m here in Larchmont. It looks all right. Here’s the number, you can call between six and eight every night. If it’s busy, just keep trying. Thanks for everything, Janice. Hope I’ll see you soon.”