A Tinfoil Sky (17 page)

“Maybe you could stay here, with me and Gladys.
She seems different – nicer,” Mel whispered in an even softer voice.

“Just go get your things, okay?” Cecily whispered back.

Mel turned and walked toward the front door of the apartment building. She didn’t exactly know why, but when she reached the door to Gladys’s apartment, she knocked. Maybe it was a case of nerves, or maybe it was because it gave her a few extra moments to think about what she was going to say.

Gladys opened the door. Mel looked straight into her eyes.

“Can Cecily stay here – with us?”

“I gave her that option, when she came by and dropped off the letter,” Gladys said.

“You did?” Mel asked.

“At the time, I didn’t know if it was better to tell you or not.”

Without really thinking it through, Mel ran back down the stairs to the idling Pinto.

“Gladys said you can stay,” she told Cecily, not giving away that she understood Cecily already knew that.

“Go get your things,” Cecily answered back.

Craig revved the engine. “Come on, Mel, we don’t have all day.”

“You don’t have to go with him,” Mel said. Her voice
was tense, and she was on the verge of yelling the words at Cecily.

“Look,” Cecily said, “just go back and get the cat and your things.”

“I just thought maybe …”

“Go. Now!” Cecily said harshly, and then she lifted her menthol cigarette to her mouth and inhaled.

Mel ran.

Gladys was waiting with a bag of Mel’s clothes in one arm and Fearless in the other when Mel opened the door.

“She said I could bring Fearless,” Mel said, looking at Gladys’s sad face.

“I know,” Gladys said. Her voice was quiet.

The
beep! beep!
from the horn on the Pinto came through the open window in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” Mel said as she lifted both Fearless and her things from Gladys’s arms. “Really, I am.”

“Me too,” Gladys said. Her lower jaw was shaking.

The honking sounded again, only now the beeps were longer and felt louder.

“I promise I’ll visit – I’ll come for Thanksgiving.”

Gladys nodded.

“Tell Mr. Frohberger – tell him – I’ll see him then, too.”

Gladys kept nodding.

The horn gave a long blare.

“And call Lisa at the library. Tell her I’m really sorry.”

“I will,” Gladys said as she took in a deep breath.

Mel ran down the stairs, out the door, and along the sidewalk. Just as she was about to get in the car she looked up at the kitchen window. Gladys was there.

Mel paused for a brief moment. She lifted her hand from her bag of clothes, gave a little wave, and got into the car.

As they pulled away from the curb, Craig looked into the rearview mirror at her. “I was hoping that you’d come back with us,” he said with a continued stare. And then there was a short pause. “And just so you know, your books are all safe and sound.”

A shiver ran up Mel’s spine. Her heart began to pound and she knew he’d found her journal. Mel knew she needed to say she was sorry, get it over with, tell him that that stuff about wanting to call the police was a lie. But the words sat, as though they had a will of their own and were unwilling to be spoken. As Craig shifted gears and sped up, a bottle, half full, rolled from under the driver’s seat to the space at her feet, and then it rolled back under the front seat again. Mel recognized the bottle and its contents. Whiskey.

“Stop!” Mel yelled.

Craig was caught off guard and he screeched the car to a halt. Mel swung the door open and jumped out, taking her things and Fearless with her.

“What are you doing?” Cecily asked, half asking, half yelling.

“I’m going home,” Mel said as she stepped away from the car. “Are you coming with me?”

Craig revved the engine.

“Please, Mel, don’t do this,” Cecily pleaded.

“Are you?” Mel asked the question again even though she knew the answer.

“I’m sorry, Mel, I can’t. Not right now.” Cecily shook her head. “I’m really sorry.”

“Me too,” Mel said.

Cecily closed her eyes, and Mel watched as tears streamed down Cecily’s cheeks.

“White light,” Mel whispered as the smoke from
Cecily’s cigarette drifted from the car out the window.

Cecily nodded.

Craig hit the gas pedal hard, and they were gone.

Mel used some of the money she earned at the library to buy a new pair of jeans and a shirt; the rest she tucked into a sock in the top drawer of her dresser, the one that used to be Cecily’s. Gladys gave her money for a book bag and shoes.

On September 7, Mel walked down the school hallway to Room 214. She took a seat near the front, next to the window, and absorbed the laughter and excitement of her classmates recounting their summer adventures. Picking up the booklet that had been placed on her desk, she carefully folded back the cover and read the only words printed on the first page.

Mel smiled and thought about Cecily and Tux. If Cecily were here, she would have said it was a sign.