Playing with Fire (12 page)

“Yeah, sure.” Jack almost smiles but not quite. That'd be cool.”

Then I thank them for their time, and they almost seem to be sort of okay with me. Like I could almost be one of them. And I feel slightly stunned. Or maybe I'm experiencing a form of culture shock—I read about that in my humanities class last semester. As I walk away, I feel like I just visited another planet where I thought the inhabitants might kill me and eat me for lunch, but they turned out to be somewhat civilized instead.

I try Felicity's number a couple of times, but her phone and her voice mail are both turned off. Finally I give Ebony a call. I quickly remind her of the vision I had, even though I already told her about it on Wednesday Then I add my concerns that Felicity is absent today.

“Do you think something has happened to Felicity,” asks Ebony, “something that should be checked out by the police?”

I'm not sure how to respond. “Possibly,” I finally say. “I mean, the vision I had didn't look good. But on the other hand, I was hoping Felicity could lead me to a dealer or something more significant.”

“Let me look into it,” she tells me. Then she takes down Felicity's cell-phone number. “I'll get this traced to a street address, then I'll let you know what I come up with.”

“Thanks, Ebony. I mean, it might be nothing…at least I hope that's the case.”

“But if Felicity
is
in danger, the most important thing is to help her.”

After school I drop Olivia at band practice and take Garrett to his counselor where, after a quick introduction, I sit in while he confesses his addiction problem to her.

She nods and makes a note of something, then looks at me with a curious expression. “Is that why you're here?”

I feel sort of silly now, like maybe it wasn't really necessary or maybe I should just mind my own business. “I was just trying to give him some moral support, you know?”

She smiles at me. “Good for you. That's what friends are for.”

Then I ask Garrett if he'd like me to wait for him in the lobby while he finishes his appointment, and he nods yes.

Ebony calls while I'm in the waiting area. She tracked down Felicity's address, which is on the other side of town. “I've learned a few things about her too,” Ebony says in a somber tone.

“Anything I should know?”

“She was expelled from Madison.”

“Do you know why?”

“No, apparently the police weren't involved, but I suspect it was drug related. Maybe it wasn't anything they could prove, and they decided to just let it go.”

“Oh.”

“But until this past year, she was a pretty good student.”

“She does seem smart…but unhappy.”

“Her parents divorced a couple of years ago. She's been living with her mom but, judging by the address, in a bad part of town. They must be having a hard time of it financially.”

“That's too bad.”

“Yeah…” Ebony sighs. “And if Felicity is using serious drugs, which seems likely, she's got to be getting money for that somehow. It's not cheap to support an addiction like that.”

“Where do you think she'd get money?”

“The obvious possibilities are working for a dealer or prostitution…or both.”

Now this doesn't really surprise me, and yet it makes me sad. Incredibly sad.

“I know it's hard to hear that, Samantha. But these are the facts.”

“I just feel so sorry for her. What a horrible way to live.”

“Well, hopefully you'll be able to help her. Maybe even prevent her from something much worse. God gave you that vision for a reason.”

“Yes,” I say with a little more enthusiasm. Then Ebony gives me Felicity's address, just in case I think I should stop by, although I'm not sure what I'd say to her if I found
her there. How would I explain how I knew where she lived or why I'd come? That journalism story might've worked for Jack, but Felicity is actually in my journalism class. She would know it wasn't true.

Anyway, I'll need God's direction before I show up uninvited on anyone's doorstep. After I hang up with Ebony, I really pray for Felicity. I pray for God to keep her safe for the time being and for her somehow to get the help she needs. Most of all, I pray she discovers that only God has the answers for her life.
God, not drugs.
Yeah, maybe I will make a bumper sticker.

H
ow did that go?” I ask Garrett after his counseling session. We're back in my car, and I don't like to be too nosy, but I do care. I want Garrett to get free of this thing.

“Okay…”

“Good. So what's next then?”

“Huh?”

“You know,” I say, “what's the next step to help you recover?”

“Oh…she referred me to a doctor. And she told me that I need to inform my foster parents about my problem.”

I can tell he's not comfortable with this. “Are you worried about how they might react?”

He nods. “They're nice people and all, but they're really into their church and living a good clean life, you know? It might really mess things up when they find out the truth about me.”

“Or it might not.”

He frowns, and I can tell he's not convinced. “Would it help if I was with you when you told them?”

He shrugs. “I don't know…”

“I mean, it's not like I think someone needs to hold
your hand, Garrett. But you've been through some pretty hard things this past year, and I can understand the need to have someone in your court.”

“Yeah, I guess it would be good.”

I glance at the clock on my dashboard. “I don't need to pick up Olivia for another hour. Do you think your foster parents are home?”

“Marsha probably is.”

“Why don't we go see?” His foster mom, Marsha Lan-drum, works from her home. I've only met her once, but she seems pretty nice. Okay, maybe a little conservative but kind.

Garrett is really quiet as I drive across town. I wish I could think of something to say that would encourage him, but right now I'm worried about Felicity. I hope she's okay. I turn on the radio to fill in the quiet space as I silently pray for her, and in a few minutes we are walking up to the door of Garrett's house.

“Hello,” Marsha calls out as she comes around the side of the house. She has on black rubber boots and is carrying a hoe in one hand. “Just doing some weeding. All that rain has brought out the weeds.” She pauses in front of us, pushes a strand of gray hair out of her eyes, and smiles warmly.

“We wanted to talk to you,” I begin. Garrett is looking down at his feet with a tightly clamped jaw. I just hope he can do this.

“Sure,” she says as she peels off her garden gloves, then glances at Garrett. “Is anything wrong?”

He still isn't talking, and I'm suddenly wondering if this is a mistake. “Maybe we should go inside.”

“Of course.” Marsha heads up to the porch. Kicking off her muddy boots, she opens the door and waves us in. She offers us something to drink, but I decline, and Garrett sits down in a dejected sort of way. It's going to be up to me to break the ice.

“We just got back from Garrett's counseling appointment,” I begin, “and his counselor thought that—”

“I can do this,” he says quickly. “I need to tell you that I have a problem…” He looks directly at Marsha now. “And when you hear what it is, you may decide you don't want to have me in your home.”

I can see a trace of alarm in her eyes, and I wonder what she might be imagining. Does she think he's a psycho, a killer, a child abuser? Poor Garrett. But he tells her the same story he told me, and finally he's done.

“Oh…” She folds her hands in her lap. “Well, that's not so terrible, Garrett. Were you worried about telling us?”

He looks surprised. “Yeah…sort of.”

She smiles. “Maybe it's my turn to tell you something about me.” She takes a deep breath and sits up straighten Tm sure you assume that my life has been pretty normal.” She sort of laughs. “But what you don't know is that I had a similar problem. Oh, it was years ago, back after my last child was born in the midseventies. I had my wisdom teeth removed. No big deal, but the doctor prescribed pain pills, and I got hooked.”

“Hooked?” Garrett looks doubtful.

She nods. “Yes. I became addicted. I started making up reasons for getting my prescription renewed. I told the doctor that I'd sprained my neck lifting the baby. The next time it was something else. Finally he questioned my need
for these pills, and I switched doctors. Within the course of three years, I must've seen a dozen different doctors, getting prescriptions from all of them. I can barely remember those years.” She sadly shakes her head. “My children were young and needed me, and although I was there… I really wasn't.”

Now Garrett looks truly surprised. “What happened?”

“I finally came to the end of my rope and completely fell apart. I had a nervous breakdown and was hospitalized for a couple of weeks. Those were the darkest, hardest, longest, most depressing two weeks of my life. I didn't think I'd ever survive it.”

“Wow,” I say. “How did you?”

“I found God. I was in the bottom of a deep, black pit, and God reached down and took my hand.”

That is so cool.” I glance over at Garrett, curious to see his response. She seems to still have his attention.

“It still took time and work to recover,” she admits. “I had been doing some very heavy medicating.” She looks directly at Garrett. “Probably even worse than what you've been doing. But I never could've escaped my addiction without God's help.”

“I don't think it's a coincidence that Garrett ended up in your home,” I tell her. “It's so great that you understand this.”

She nods. “Yes, I definitely do.”

I look at my watch and stand. “Well, I need to go pick up my friend now.” I glance at Garrett, and he's staring at Marsha like he's still trying to absorb what she just told him.

“See ya tomorrow, Garrett.”

“Thanks, Sam.” He smiles at me now, and I have a
strong feeling that he's going to be okay. He's going to get through this. God has His hands on that boy.

“Yes,” Marsha says with moist eyes. “Thanks for helping us share our stories today. It'll be a new beginning for everyone.”

When I get to Cameron's house, the band members are standing outside by the garage, just talking. I pull up and get out, feeling slightly out of place as I go over and join them.

“Hey,” says Olivia. “I was about to call you. We quit a little early.”

“Because we sounded so hot,” brags Cameron. “We figured, why mess with a good thing?”

“So what did you do about your missing bass player?” I ask. The truth is, I'm feeling just a little sorry for Jack today. He lost his place in the band, and his girlfriend is missing.

“Kyle plays bass too,” says Olivia. “So I'm doing keyboard for now, and he's doing bass.”

“But that's just a temporary fix,” says Cameron, “until we find another bass player. You know anyone?”

“Sorry.”

“I told them I'd talk to Maxwell Price,” says Olivia.

“Maxwell?” I give her a curious look, which she returns with a warning glance.

“Yes,” she says quickly. “He plays a lot of instruments, but he's really good on bass. Haven't you heard him?”

I nod. Of course I've heard him. He plays in our church's worship band every Sunday. But he's not exactly a Stewed Oysters kind of guy. He goes to Madison High and is one of the most evangelistic people I know. Not that I have a problem with people telling others about Jesus.
I don't. But sometimes it seems like Maxwell Price is keeping a head count—like he thinks there'll be a special reward in heaven for how many people he coerces into the faith. Okay, that's not fair, but I do question his methods sometimes. And I can't believe Olivia would consider asking him to join the Oysters. Even so, I keep my mouth shut.

The group breaks up, and Olivia and I get into my car where I question her judgment. “Maxwell Price?”

She laughs. “Wouldn't it be hilarious?”

“I suppose, but it could get ugly too.”

“It was just an idea. I doubt Maxwell would even agree.” She leans back and sighs. “Hey, I like this new setup, being chauffeured around by you for a change.”

“It's about time.” Then I give her the latest on Garrett, and she claps her hands and cheers. “That's awesome, Sam!”

“I know. I couldn't believe his foster mom. I mean, she looks like this old fuddy-duddy lady, and she was so totally cool. It was a real God-thing.”

“Well, I've really been praying for that boy. God's not done with him yet.”

“Hopefully, God's not done with any of us, Olivia.”

“Amen!” Then she cranks up my CD player, and we both start singing along. Of course, her singing actually sounds good. But at least I have enthusiasm.

“I found out a little more about tomorrow night's gig,” she tells me when we get to her house. “It's a birthday party too.”

I let out a groan.

“But not a sweet sixteen. This is for a couple of guys who go to Madison. They're twins, and they're turning
eighteen. It's a surprise party their parents are giving. Cameron assured me it wouldn't be crazy.”

“Yeah, right. How can he promise anything?”

“I know. So I told him that if I see any alcohol or drugs, I'm outta there. And I plan to tell the parents the same thing.”