Do You Know the Monkey Man? (12 page)

I
heard the sirens less than five minutes later. Silently Angela and I made our way to the front door. As soon as we stepped outside we saw three police cars pulling up in front of the house.

Joe and T. J. both scrambled to their feet. T. J. turned to me and I saw a look of horror creep across her face.

“You called the police?” T. J. cried with disbelief.

Joe’s shoulders slumped. He looked at me with sadness in his eyes.

“No! I just…called my mom—”

“Oh. So
she
called the police,” T. J. said in a nasty voice. Which made me kind of mad. I mean, I didn’t want my mom to call the police, but I understood why she did. What Joe did was
wrong.
Didn’t T. J. see that?

Losing my sister was so painful for my mom that even now, ten years later, she could hardly talk about it. And all along, Sarah—T. J.—was never really dead. It seemed to me that telling people she was dead when she wasn’t was one of the worst things he could’ve done.

I don’t know whether I could’ve said that to T. J. or not, but I didn’t even have a chance to try because all those police officers were getting out of their cars and marching over to us. There were six of them—two from each vehicle. A tall female officer told us her name was Detective Becker and she wanted to know which of us girls was Samantha Wright. There was something a little bit freaky about hearing your name come out of a policewoman’s mouth. I swallowed hard, then slowly raised my hand.

Then they wanted to know whether my dad was Joseph Wright and whether T. J. was Sarah Wright.

“My name’s not Sarah,” T. J. said boldly. “It’s T. J.”

“What’s your mother’s name, T. J.?” another officer asked.

“I don’t have a mother. My mother died when I was little.”

“What was her name?” he pressed.

T. J. lowered her eyes. She drew closer to Joe and he hugged her against his chest. I looked away.

“T. J.?” Detective Becker tried to get T. J. to look at her and answer the question, but T. J. just buried her face in my dad’s chest.

So the police decided to haul all of us down to the police station.

“You can’t do that!” Angela said. “Our parents are picking us up at the Mall of America. They’re going to wonder where we are.”

“No, I spoke with Sam’s mother, and both your parents are planning on picking you up at the police station,” Detective Becker explained.

I was surprised how relieved I was to hear that. This whole thing was getting to be too much for me to handle. Way too much. I wanted my mom. And I was willing to let the police take me to her.

But T. J. didn’t want to get into that police car for anything. Especially when they told her she was going to ride in one car and Joe was going to ride in another.

“No!”
T. J. screamed, wide-eyed. She wrapped her entire body around Joe and held on for dear life.

“Please don’t make me go!” she cried. “Please!” Tears poured down her face.

Joe was crying, too. His shoulders were heaving and he was clinging to T. J. every bit as hard as she was clinging to him.

It took four police officers to wrestle the two of them apart and drag them into separate vehicles, T. J. kicking and screaming and Joe crying the entire way.

I could hardly bear to watch. This was my sister and my dad. They were both in such pain. And it was all my fault. Well, it was my dad’s fault, too, but mostly it was mine. Because I was the one who couldn’t leave well enough alone.

Detective Becker led Angela and me to the first vehicle. “You girls can ride with us,” she said.

So we crawled into the backseat of the car. I’d never been in a police car before. It smelled bad. Like stale cigarette smoke and cheeseburgers.

There was a glass panel separating the front and back seats, but the officers kept the panel open so they could talk to us. I think they thought we’d feel better if they drove the speed limit and made conversation with us. But the only thing that would make me feel better was if I could go home.

The heavyset guy who was driving had a daughter our age, he told us. She was a swimmer, and I don’t remember what else because I wasn’t really listening. I just leaned against the window and watched the city go by. And wondered how T. J. was doing in the car behind ours.

When we got to the police station, the officers took us all to separate rooms. They even separated me and Angela. The heavyset guy who drove our vehicle took Angela into one conference room and Detective Becker took me into another across the hall. She flipped a switch and an overhead fluorescent light blinked on.

Detective Becker gestured for me sit down on one of the three chairs surrounding the hard metal table in the middle of the room. There was nothing else in the entire room besides the table and chairs. No books or magazines. Even the walls were bare. There were no pictures. No clock. No outside window. Just a window to the hallway and there were blinds over that.

I chose the closest chair and Detective Becker sat down across from me.

“It sounds like you’ve had quite a day,” she began. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

There was a lot more to tell about than just today, so, once again, I started at the beginning. I told about my visit to the psychic, the newspaper articles, this strong sense I had that my sister was still alive and how I went about trying to find out for sure. I told about how I wasn’t supposed to go to Hill Valley with Angela, but that I went anyway, and how this morning I was supposed to get on a bus in Hill Valley and go back home, but instead I took a bus to the Mall of America, and everything that happened after that.

Every now and then Detective Becker wrote something down in her spiral notebook, but mostly she just listened. Then when I finished, we went over it all again so she could make sure she got everything right. Finally she stood up and said she was going to go check on everyone else. And then I was left alone.

I wondered what was going to happen now. They’d probably want to talk to my mom, too, when she got here. Was she here already? Was she in one of the other rooms? What about Angela? Was she still here?

I went to the door, opened it, and poked my head out. Angela and her dad were just coming out of the room across the hall. So my mom
was
here.

“Samantha, hi,” Mr. Hunter said all friendly-like, as though we weren’t all standing in the middle of a police station.

“Hey, Sam,” Angela scurried over and grabbed my hand. “How are you?”

“Okay. Do you know where my mom is?” I asked.

Angela shook her head.

“She and that fellow she came up here with were talking with several police officers when I got here,” Mr. Hunter said.

“Fellow she came up here with?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, the fiancé from Iowa—”

Bob? Bob was here, too?

“They came up in their own vehicle,” Mr. Hunter continued. “Which was probably a good thing. Sounds like you’re all going to be here a while.”

I didn’t know why my mom had to go and drag Bob along. It wasn’t like they were married yet.

“Are you ready to go, Angela?” Mr. Hunter asked.

“In a minute. I just want to say good-bye to Sam first.”

Mr. Hunter moved down the hall to give us a little privacy. Once he was far enough away so he couldn’t hear, Angela leaned toward me. “Guess what?” she whispered.

“What?”

“My dad thought something bad had happened to us. He was actually
worried.
” She seemed really happy about that.

When I didn’t say anything, she said, “Don’t you get it? That means
he cares about me.
He even gave me a hug when he saw me. A real hug!”

I smiled. “I’m happy for you, Angela.” Really, I was.

“Looks like there’s hope for my dad after all. And if there’s hope for him, maybe there’s hope for your situation, too.”

It was weird listening to Angela talk about hope. At the moment, I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel hopeful about anything again.

We said our good-byes, then Angela and her dad left. I peered up and down the hallway, wondering where my mom was. Leaving the door slightly ajar, I went back to my seat to wait.

I took out my comb and mindlessly ran it through my hair for something to do. What was happening in all those other rooms? Were my mom and Joe and T. J. giving their own versions of what happened? Were they arresting Joe? Getting T. J. ready to come live with us?

About the time I was starting to think I’d been forgotten, there was a light tapping at my door. I looked up.

“Hey there, Sam,” Bob said. Before I even had time to react, he strode right over to me and wrapped his big arms around me.

I just sort of melted into him. Wow. Bob and I had never hugged before. But…it felt okay. Good, even.

“Are you okay?” he asked. There was so much concern on his face that my eyes filled with tears.

“I’ll bet you’re hungry,” he said, handing me a paper bag from McDonald’s. Once I saw it, I could smell the hamburger and fries. And then I realized that yes, I was indeed hungry.

“Quarter pounder with cheese, no pickles, right?” Bob asked.

“Yes,” I said, surprised that he knew me that well.

“So, what’s going on?” I asked. I carried the bag over to the table and took the burger and fries out. “Where’s my mom?”

Bob sat down in the chair across from me. “Well, she’s talking to some people about what it would take to try and get temporary custody of T. J. tonight, but I don’t think she’s going to be successful.”

“Why not?” I asked, my mouth full of cheeseburger.

“Because this is a very complicated case. It’s going to take a while for a judge to talk to everyone and decide what’s in the best interests of the child.”

“What’s complicated about it? My dad committed a crime.”

“Well, yes and no,” Bob said. “I’m not sure he can really be charged with any crime because at the time he took your sister, there was no divorce. No custody agreement. He had the same rights to you and your sister that your mom had.”

What? I swallowed the food in my mouth. “He had a right to tell everyone she was dead and then take her away?” I exclaimed. “He kidnapped her!”

“Not as far as the law is concerned,” Bob said. “That’s why I’m saying it’s complicated.”

“But…he lied to the police. He made everyone search the quarry, which must’ve been really dangerous, not to mention expensive. All for nothing. Isn’t that a crime?”

“Well, yes,” Bob admitted. “But honestly, we’re not likely to do anything about it now. Not after all this time. The real issue here is your sister and what’s in her best interest.”

I picked at my french fries. “So you don’t think Joe will go to jail?” I asked.

“I don’t think so. Like I said, the main issue here is going to be custody. And that’s going to have to be hashed out in court. The thing is, your sister has been with your dad for ten years. She wants to stay with him. The judge is going to factor that in.”

“Have my mom and T. J. seen each other yet?”

“Yes,” Bob said. “But it doesn’t sound like the meeting went very well. Emotions are running pretty high. On both sides. This is going to take some time.”

“Well, if my mom doesn’t get custody of T. J. tonight, what will happen to T. J.? Where will she go?”

“I suspect she’ll go into temporary foster care.”

Foster care? My heart ached for T. J. In foster care, she really would be with strangers.

I suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. “I shouldn’t have done this,” I said, pushing my half-eaten cheeseburger away. “I shouldn’t have gone looking for my dad.”

Bob didn’t answer right away. “Well, I understand why you did.”

I raised my eyes. The main reason I went looking for my dad was I wanted to know what he thought of somebody else adopting me. I wanted him to put his foot down and say no. That he didn’t want anyone else to adopt me. That
he
was my dad. How could Bob possibly understand when he was the “somebody else”?

Bob scooted his chair forward a little. “I lost my dad when I was right around your age, Sam. I know what it’s like to grow up without a father.”

“Your dad got shot on duty, right?” I said slowly. I was pretty sure that was what my mom had said.

“Yes. During a convenience store robbery.” Bob had a faraway look in his eyes. “He wasn’t the kind of father who spent a lot of time with his kids. He put in a long day at work, came home, and relaxed in front of the television. He was right there in our living room every single night, but I didn’t know him. Not really. I didn’t know who he was, what he thought about, what he was like as a kid. I didn’t even know for sure that he loved me.”

It was weird to think of Bob as a thirteen-year-old kid who just wanted a little love and attention from his dad. Just like me.

“Then when he died,” Bob went on, “I realized I’d never know those things. But it was different for you. You didn’t know for sure your dad was really gone. You still had a chance to get to know him. That’s why you went looking for him. Even though you knew it would hurt your mom.”

I swallowed hard. “I never meant to hurt my mom.” I never meant to hurt
anybody.
“I just—” How could I justify this?

“You just wanted to know whether your dad could ever love you.”

I nodded. Maybe Bob did understand.

“You know, you and I will never be blood relatives.” Bob leaned a little closer to me and looked right into my eyes. “But we could still be a family.”

I knew that was all he and my mom wanted. For us to be a family. The funny thing was I had been looking for a family, too. Just not the same family my mom and Bob had been looking for. Maybe that was my mistake.

“D-do you have to adopt me for us to be a family?” I asked. I don’t know where I got the guts to come right out and ask that question. But that was what it came down to for me. I had nothing against Bob. I just didn’t want him to adopt me.

If Bob was upset or hurt, he didn’t show it. “A piece of paper doesn’t make people a family,” he said. “Often family is a choice, not an obligation.”

I’d never thought of it that way before. I always knew