What She Left Behind (19 page)

Just then, she heard the key in the infirmary room door. She stood and turned, holding Beatrice in her arms, wondering who would be coming to her room at this hour. It was too early for lunch to be delivered, and she didn’t have another appointment with Dr. Roach until the end of the week. Could it be that her father had finally answered Dr. Roach’s letter? Clara held her breath, watching the door swing open.

A nurse entered and stepped aside, holding the edge of the door. Clara recognized her as one of the nurses who had brought in baby nightgowns and cloth diapers. She had smiled and cooed at Beatrice, telling Clara she had a beautiful baby. Now, the nurse kept her eyes on the floor, as if avoiding Clara’s gaze. Dr. Slade and a woman in civilian clothing walked into the room, their faces set. The woman was wearing a long, wool coat and a green bucket hat, strands of auburn hair peeking out from beneath the low brim. With a pink blanket draped over one arm, she looked around with her mouth pursed, wrinkles lining her upper lip like marks on a ruler. Two orderlies followed Dr. Slade and the woman inside, then closed the door behind them. Clara couldn’t understand why Dr. Slade was there. It had been weeks since he’d been in to check on her.

“What’s going on?” she said.

“This is Miss Mason,” Dr. Slade said, his face void of emotion. He and the woman moved across the room toward Clara. “She’s from the Children’s Aid Society.”

Miss Mason gave Clara a quick nod, and then her eyes fell to Beatrice. The orderlies remained by the entrance, alert and watching. The nurse kept her head down, her hand clasped at her waist as she stared at the floor. Something was wrong. Clara edged backward, Beatrice clutched to her breasts, her heart racing.

“What do you want?” she said.

“This is no place for a baby,” Miss Mason said. “I promise I’ll find her a good home.”

Agony seized Clara’s chest, as if a giant hand had reached into her rib cage and yanked out her heart. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps and her stomach twisted in on itself, a writhing coil of pain nearly bending her over.

“No!” she cried. “She’s mine! You can’t take her!” She moved backward until she hit the wall next to the window, her legs like water, her arms like ice. She started to gag, certain she was going to throw up.

Dr. Slade and Miss Mason came around the bed, moving closer and closer. Dr. Slade reached for Clara’s arm. Miss Mason draped the blanket over the footboard and reached for Beatrice.

“No!” Clara shouted. She darted sideways and escaped their grasp, hurrying toward the far corner of the room. The orderlies left their post and started toward her, their mouths set. Dr. Slade and Miss Mason followed Clara and herded her into a corner, their arms outstretched as if they were closing in on a wild animal.

“Just give us the baby,” Miss Mason said. “You don’t want to drop her, do you?”

“Get away from us!” Clara screamed. “I won’t let you take her!”

Dr. Slade leapt forward and grabbed Clara by the arm with both hands, grunting with the effort. Miss Mason reached for Beatrice, her rough hands trying to pry the baby from Clara’s grasp. Clara shoved her away and Miss Mason stumbled backward, arms circling, eyes wide. Beatrice woke up and started to wail, her face crumpled and red. Miss Mason recovered and moved forward again, her hands up. Clara twisted and turned, trying to escape Dr. Slade’s strong grasp. She kicked him in the shins. He cursed and tightened his grip, pushing his thick fingers into her muscles. Before Clara knew what was happening, the orderlies were on top of her, one behind holding her upper arms, the other in front so she wouldn’t drop the baby. Miss Mason forced her hands beneath Beatrice.

Clara pulled her arm free and punched Miss Mason in the mouth. Miss Mason touched her lower lip and drew her hand away, wide eyes staring at the blood on her fingertips. The orderlies yanked Clara’s arm behind her back. Miss Mason glared at her and wiped her mouth, smearing blood across her chin. Clara held Beatrice to her chest with one hand, thrashing and writhing, trying to break free. It was no use. The orderlies were too strong.

“No!” she screamed, her throat raw. “Please! You can’t take my baby!”

“We can and we will,” Miss Mason said. With the help of Dr. Slade, Miss Mason pulled Beatrice from Clara’s grasp, a smug smile on her face. With every ounce of strength she had left, Clara launched forward and broke free of the orderlies. She dug her fingernails in Miss Mason’s cheeks and reached for her daughter. Miss Mason screamed, splayed fingers flying to her face. Clara clutched Beatrice to her chest and turned to make a run for it, but the orderlies grabbed her by the shoulders. Dr. Slade pried Beatrice from Clara’s arms, his face twisting with determination.

“No,” Clara said, sobbing. “Please. Don’t take her.”

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Slade said. “Someday you’ll realize it’s for the best.”

The nurse used a towel to blot Miss Mason’s cheek, her eyes brimming. Miss Mason snatched the towel out of the nurse’s hand and wiped her face, then picked up the blanket and spread it out over the bed. Dr. Slade handed Beatrice to Miss Mason, supporting her small, dark-haired head with one hand. Miss Mason laid Beatrice on the bed, wrapped the blanket around her kicking legs, then lifted her up, cradling the wailing baby in her arms.

“Clearly you’ve made the right decision,” she said to Dr. Slade. “This woman is not fit to be a mother.” Dr. Slade nodded, still trying to catch his breath.

“Nooooo!” Clara screamed until she tasted blood in the back of her throat. She thrashed and kicked, fighting to break free from the orderlies with everything she had. Miss Mason started toward the door and Clara sagged to the floor, every muscle and bone aching with agony and grief. The orderlies pushed her down all the way, her cheek hitting the cold tiles with a bone-jarring thud. She felt a sting on her arm and turned her head toward the exit. The last thing she saw was Miss Mason walking out the door with her daughter in her arms, the pink blanket hanging down one side of her wool coat. Beatrice was screaming.

Clara turned her head on the stiff pillow, the gray light of early morning filtering in through a barred window. She could see a stand of cedar trees, and a man in rubber boots walking along a road with a shovel thrown over his shoulder. Then Clara heard someone scream. She sat up and looked around the room. Half a dozen women sat on filthy metal beds, their legs chained to the footboards. Clara looked down. There was a chain around her ankle. She was in the Rookie Pest House.

CHAPTER 13

I
ZZY

On a cool, clear Saturday night in early October, the full moon hung in a cobalt sky, a blue-speckled globe surrounded by a billion pinpricks of light. Wearing jeans, sneakers, and hoodie, Izzy rode in the leather passenger seat of Alex’s Beamer, trying not to feel guilty about lying to Peg and Harry again. First, she didn’t tell them that Ethan was the one who took the journal, and now this. Granted, it was only a little white lie; that she was staying at Alex’s when she was really camping with seniors from Lakeshore and nearby Romulus Central. But even that small fib made her feel awful. Peg and Harry had been so good to her.

Alex drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, singing along with “You Oughta Know” by Alanis Morissette blaring from the radio. When Alex turned off the two-lane highway onto a narrow dirt road, Izzy’s chest tightened. She still wasn’t sure this was a good idea. Alex slowed the car on the potholed road, turning the radio down when they entered a dark, leafy tunnel formed by low trees, ducking in her seat when a branch scraped along the car roof. The headlights bounced along the rutted gravel, catching small, glowing eyes in the underbrush.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Izzy asked.

“Yeah,” Alex said. “We have parties down here all the time. No one ever checks this area. It’s state land, part of the old Willard Asylum.”

Izzy swallowed. This most definitely was a mistake. “I don’t think I should have come,” she said, peering into the woods. “With what happened with Shannon and everything. I don’t want there to be any trouble.”

“There’s going to be so many people here you won’t even know she’s around. Just ignore her.”

“What if she doesn’t ignore me?”

“You’ll be with me and my friends from Romulus. They won’t put up with Shannon’s shit either. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Will you relax and live a little? This is your senior year! You gotta get crazy while you can!”

No thanks,
Izzy thought.
That’s exactly what I’m trying NOT to do.
At the end of the dirt road they came to a grassy clearing full of cars and trucks and motorcycles. Izzy bit down on her lip. Through the trees on the other side of the parking area she could see a group of kids drinking and smoking and dancing around a huge bonfire on the shore. Red sparks shot into the night sky, like fireflies spinning out of control. In the background, Seneca Lake loomed like a giant black bowl, the full moon reflecting off its surface in a wide, wavering stripe. Izzy remembered reading somewhere that the word “lunatic” originated from the idea that the rays of the moon could adversely affect people’s minds. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be the case tonight.

Alex parked and they got out of the Beamer, pulling their duffel bags, blankets, and tent from the backseat. The thumping bass of loud music beat like someone else’s heart inside Izzy’s chest. A cool breeze carried the not unpleasant smell of fire and burning wood, decaying fish and wet seaweed, cold water in an iron cup.

Izzy grabbed her extra jacket, threw her duffel bag over her shoulder, and followed Alex toward the other side of the parking area. They made their way along a wooden boardwalk over a wet, marshy swamp, then followed a winding path through gangly saplings and thin stretches of sand until they came to the shoreline. Dozens of kids gathered on the beach, standing or sitting in camp chairs around the bonfire, setting up tents, congregating on blankets, eating pizza and chips, smoking pot and drinking beer. One group sat around a hookah while another played volleyball and another passed around a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Someone had pulled their Pontiac Sunfire onto the sand and opened the trunk, the thumping stereo speakers vibrating the entire car. The party had started at three in the afternoon, but Izzy and Alex were late because they’d had to work.

“Let’s set up over there,” Alex said, pointing to an empty spot near the sloping edge of a grass-covered dune. Izzy followed Alex through the crowd, searching faces for people she recognized, wondering if anyone would ask what the hell she was doing there. She saw a guy doing a handstand while Luke and Josh held him up by his legs and poured beer into a funnel, a hose running into the guy’s mouth. A crowd gathered, chanting, “Go, go, go!” while the upside-down guy tried his best to swallow the beer without spilling it.

Izzy noticed a few couples sitting near the fire, holding hands and making out. When she saw Ethan and Shannon wrapped in a blanket, talking and laughing with Crystal and her boyfriend, Dave, she looked away.

“I guess the rumors aren’t true, after all,” Alex said, dropping her bag on the sand. “Not yet, anyway.”

“What rumors?”

Alex nodded toward Ethan and Shannon. “Everyone’s saying Ethan is going to break up with Shannon so he can ask you out,” she said.

Izzy felt blood rush to her cheeks. “That’s not going to happen.”

“What? He’s not going to break up with her, or he’s not going to ask you out?”

“Neither.”

“Are you telling me you’re not interested?” Alex said, grinning. She knelt down to unroll their tent.

“I’m not. Least of all because I don’t need the school bully coming after me.”

“So if it wasn’t for Shannon, you’d be interested?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Oh, I get it. You’ve still got a boyfriend from your old school.”

Izzy shook her head. “I’m just concentrating on getting through this year, that’s all. I need to figure out what I’m doing after I turn eighteen. I don’t need some stupid relationship messing up my life.”

“Uh-huh,” Alex said.

Just then, a group of girls and guys came over carrying blankets, a tent, duffel bags, and a cooler. The guys set down the cooler and went to work pitching the tent while the girls hugged Alex. Alex made introductions to Izzy. “This is Kim and Jackie from Lakeshore.” She gestured toward the boys. “Chris is from Lakeshore, and Fin and Turtle are from Romulus.”

“Hey,” Izzy said, smiling. Jackie reached into the cooler and handed Izzy and Alex a wine cooler. She was tall and slender, her sandy hair in long braids, her skin smooth and tanned. She looked straight out of a Coppertone commercial. Kim was short and chubby, with auburn hair and thick glasses. The guys stopped working, grabbed some beer, and joined the girls.

“Did Alex tell you why they call Turtle ‘Turtle’?” Fin asked Izzy.

Izzy shook her head and Turtle smacked Fin on the arm. “Shut the hell up!” he said.

Fin pointed to his crotch. “Because it looks like a baby turtle head poking out.”

Everyone laughed and Turtle jumped on Fin’s back, trying to wrestle him to the sand.

“Don’t pay any attention to them,” Jackie said to Izzy. “They’re idiots.”

“Uh-oh,” Alex said. She was looking past Izzy, toward the bonfire. Jackie and Kim followed Alex’s gaze, their brows lifting in surprise. Izzy turned to look and her heart started doing double-time. Ethan, Shannon, Josh, Crystal, and Dave were headed toward them. Izzy looked at Alex, wondering what to do. Alex shrugged. When Ethan and the others reached them, the guys mock-punched each other, held up their beers, and said cheers. Izzy kept her eyes on the ground.

Shannon and Crystal said hi to the group, their words practically dripping with sugar. Alex rolled her eyes. Jackie, Kim, and the guys welcomed everyone into the circle, offering beer and wine coolers. The guys started talking about cars and football while the girls talked about how many pillows they brought and lying out in the sun the next morning. Izzy kept her eyes on Alex, Kim, and Jackie. Then someone touched her arm and she jumped. It was Shannon.

“Can I talk to you?” she said, her voice syrupy. “Alone?”

Izzy took a long swallow of her wine cooler and glanced at Alex, who was watching and frowning. Shannon looked at Izzy with sad eyes, her lower lip nearly curling under.

“What do you want to talk to her about?” Alex said in a loud voice.

Ethan stopped joking with Fin and Dave and looked over to see what was going on. He moved closer, his face filled with concern. “Everything okay?” he said. Shannon took his hand. Crystal tugged on Dave’s sweatshirt and told him to be quiet. One by one, everyone stopped talking. Izzy had the unsettling feeling that they were getting ready to perform a ritual on the beach and she was about to become the sacrifice.

“Okay, fine,” Shannon said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll just say it right here, in front of everyone.”

“This should be interesting,” Alex muttered.

“I know I’ve been a bitch and I’m sorry,” Shannon said. “Really. I mean it. This is our senior year and I want to make good memories, not bad ones. I was going to start by apologizing to Izzy. But I know I need to apologize to you too, Alex.”

Alex laughed. “You really think it’s going to be that easy?” she said. “You’ve been a lot worse than a bitch to me, and to a lot of other people too.”

“Why don’t you just listen to what she has to say?” Crystal snarled.

“I’m listening, aren’t I?” Alex said.

“It’s okay, Crystal,” Shannon said. Then, as if suddenly chilled, she rubbed her arms and moved closer to Ethan. Ethan took off his jacket and wrapped it around her. She smiled and kissed him on the cheek, then glanced at Alex and Izzy, her chin trembling. It felt like a show, put on for everyone’s benefit.

“This is hard for me to say,” Shannon said. “But Alex is right. I’ve been worse than a bitch. I’ve been a mean, self-centered, horrible person. I’ve treated people like shit and I’m sorry. There’s no excuse.”

“So,” Alex said, her voice filled with doubt. “After years of being terrorized by you, we’re supposed to believe you’ve suddenly seen the error of your ways? We’re supposed to just swallow your shit and say, ‘mmm, good cook’?”

Shannon stared at her, color mounting in her cheeks. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” she said. “But all these years, hearing what everyone was saying about my father and my mother.” She dropped her eyes. “I know you think my heart is made of stone. But it’s not. Hearing people talk about my family hurts. I guess I just . . . I don’t know. I wanted to lash out and hurt people back. I know it was wrong.”

Izzy heard words coming out of her mouth before she could stop them. “People are going to talk,” she said. “There’s really nothing you can do about it. Just ignore them.”

Shannon tilted her head and smiled at Izzy, like a little girl seeing a puppy in a pet shop window. “See,” she said. “I knew Izzy would understand. I’m sorry about telling the class your mother is in jail.” Izzy winced and glanced at Alex’s friends, waiting for their reaction.

“Oh my God, you just did it again!” Alex said, her voice high. “Izzy just met my friends and you just blurt shit out in front of everyone!”

Shannon put a hand over her mouth. “Oops,” she said. “I didn’t do it on purpose! Not this time, really!”

Alex shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “It seems like you used this opportunity to embarrass Izzy again.”

“No,” Shannon said. “I didn’t. Really. Come on. You have to give me a chance. It’s going to take time to change. I’m really sorry, Izzy.”

Shannon stared at Izzy with brimming eyes. Beside her, Ethan studied the beer in his hand, the sand, Fin and Turtle, anything but Izzy. Shannon’s words, the tone of her voice, her posture, the way her lip trembled when she talked, all of it seemed genuine. And yet, Izzy could have sworn she saw the hot flash of fury still dancing in Shannon’s eyes. But for tonight at least, she decided to play along.

“I can’t speak for everyone,” she said. “But I’m willing to give you another chance.” In truth, she was relieved. Even if Shannon returned to her evil ways when they went back to school on Monday, maybe for one night, Izzy could relax, enjoy herself, and make some new friends.

“Seriously?” Alex said to Izzy. “You’re going to forgive her, just like that?”

“It’s okay, Alex,” Shannon said. “I know I’ve treated you worse than anyone. You have every reason never to speak to me again. You don’t have to forgive me if you can’t find it in your heart. But I hope we can at least be civil to each other until graduation.”

Everyone stared at Alex, waiting for her reaction. Izzy shrugged, hoping Alex wasn’t pissed at her for giving in so easily.

Finally, Alex rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she said. “I’m going to give you another chance because I’m sick of all the fighting and backstabbing. But I’m warning you, don’t make a fool out of me. I won’t forgive you again.”

“I won’t!” Shannon said. She started toward Alex, arms outstretched, but Alex stepped back, holding up a hand. Shannon stopped short. “It’s okay,” she said, smiling. “I get it. We’re not there yet.” She held her wine cooler out at arm’s length. “Can we at least drink to starting over?”

“Sure,” Alex said, briefly raising her wine cooler.

After everyone took a drink, Shannon said, “Our tent is over by that stand of birch trees. After you get settled in, why don’t you come over?”

“We’ll see,” Alex said.

Shannon looked at Izzy. “Will you come hang out for a little while?” she said.

Izzy shrugged. “Sure,” she said.

“Great!” Shannon said, smiling. “Josh brought firecrackers. We’ll wait for you before we light them off!” She kissed Ethan and pulled him away, little clouds of sand flicking from the back of her flip-flops as she hurried toward the bonfire. Halfway there, she lifted her drink in the air and shouted, “Let’s paaaarty!”

Fin and the guys went back to setting up their tents while Jackie and Kim set up chairs and blankets. Izzy knelt in the sand to help Alex with their tent.

“What the hell was that all about?” she said in a low voice, so the others couldn’t hear.

“I have no idea,” Alex said. “But you know that old saying, keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer?”

“You think that’s what she’s trying to do?” Izzy said.

“Most definitely,” Alex said. “Which means you need to be extra careful.”