Shadow Girl (17 page)

A tear escaped.

“Did your father say anything about moving? Do you have any idea where they might have gone?”
Going, going, gone
.

“I know it’s hard, but we have to talk about this. You know your dad best.”

No, I don’t. Yes, I do
.

Suzanne was trying to put the right amount of concern into her face and voice, but Jules could tell that a part of her – deep down – liked being “the god” in people’s lives.

Jules stood up quickly and knocked over Suzanne’s mug. Coffee spilled on all the papers. She ran out of the room, up the stairs, and threw herself on the bed.

Suzanne came up after her. “Please, Jules. I don’t want to upset you, but I have to tell you what’s going on. You’re not a child; you’ll be thirteen soon.…”

Dad. Oh, Dad
.

“Jules, we’ll do everything we can to find him.”

“Get out!” Jules screamed.

“Jules, ple –”

“Get out! Get out!”

Suzanne wouldn’t leave. She was trying to come up with social-worker words to calm Jules down.

Jules got up from the bed, pushed Suzanne into the hallway, and slammed the door shut. “Leave me alone. Everybody, just leave me alone!”

Jules could hear Mrs. Chapman charge up the stairs, spouting words of comfort that had never come out of her mealy mouth before. “Oh, you poor thing. Jules, honey –”

“Go away!” Sobs choked Jules, making it harder to scream. “Get out. Get out of my life. All of you!”

She got Maggie out of her hiding spot and curled up on the bed, listening to her own cries as if she were not in her own body. Through the torment, she heard the voices of the two women in the hallway. Eventually they went downstairs.

I hate you. All of you. Hate!

Jules cried and screamed until her voice was ragged and her lungs hurt. Pain shot through her stomach and chest, and a voice in her head cut into every thought.

He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. What am I going to do? Oh, help me. Somebody, help me! He doesn’t want me. I was right all along. Right, right, right. He doesn’t want this piece of garbage that’s Jules
.

Exhausted and shivering, she pulled Maggie closer – tight, tight – under the blankets. No one tried to come into her room or talk to her. She fell asleep and didn’t wake up until morning.

Jules felt numb. She had nothing left inside.

She got out of bed and knelt by the window, looking out at the street.

Over the past year, she’d learned that she could keep going like other people as long as she believed it was possible for her and her dad to be together. There wasn’t any point now.

She’d understood all along – what it meant when he’d make excuses for not visiting, when his visits happened just every two weeks, once a month, then not at all.

There’s no one for me. I might as well disappear
.

M
rs. Chapman knocked on the door around eight o’clock. When Jules didn’t answer, she opened it, staring into the room. Jules didn’t turn around.

Don’t waste your time. I’m not really here
.

“I’m not going to school.”

“But –”

“Go away.”

“Aren’t you coming down for breakfast?”

“No.”

“Look. I know you’re upset, hon. It’s really tough, but …”

But nothing. You don’t know how it feels and you never will
.

“Why don’t you come down? I’ll make something good.”

I’m not going to speak. Silence is one of the few weapons I have
.

Sometime later, Jules got dressed, grabbed her schoolbag, snuck downstairs and out the back door.

Let them worry – if they worry at all. The only reason the Chapmans are concerned is because they’ve got to answer to Children’s Aid
.

Jules got on the bus and found her way to Mimico. She walked up and down the snowy streets all day long. When it started to get dark, she took the bus to the library and pretended to read until closing time.

I can’t go back to the Chapmans. I won’t
.

Churches are open all night. They’re sanctuaries and can’t kick people out
.

Our Lady of Sorrows was nearby, but she’d get there too early.

If I walk all the way to Our Lady of Peace church, it’ll be late when I get there. Nobody will be around
.

Walking alone in the dark didn’t frighten her.

When she got to the church, she entered through the side door, walked down the narrow right aisle to a middle pew, and sat down. After her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she stared at the altar for minutes, an hour, two hours.

And when she could no longer sit up, she emptied out her schoolbag and used it as a pillow so she could lay her body out. Yellow stars, set against a blue plaster sky, dotted the church ceiling – high, high up.

I’m tired. So tired
.

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

Jules was startled by the voice and nearly fell to the floor.

Where am I?

Light streamed through stained glass windows.

Morning
.

It was busybody Bendinelli, the elderly woman who lived next door to Patsy and came to pray at church every day. “Did you hear what I said?”

Think fast
.

“Uh … I just came in here before school. Must’ve dozed off.”

“Then why aren’t you wearing your uniform?”

“It got ripped … I have to wear my regular clothes.”

Mrs. Bendinelli didn’t buy it. “You stay right where you are, young lady. Father Matthews is going to hear about this.”

“No, don’t. Please.”

Jules frantically pushed her things into her bag and ran out of the church.

“G
et in here. Sit down in that damn chair, and if you so much as move a muscle, I’ll call the police on you myself,” Mrs. Chapman yelled. “They were in this very kitchen! Did you know that? The police cruiser was parked on the street for all the neighbors to see! What nerve. What colossal, stinking nerve. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done. There are consequences. Sit down in that chair, I said!” Mrs. Chapman pushed Jules down into a kitchen chair and reached for the phone. “Let’s see what Suzanne has to say!”

“I haven’t eaten … can I –”

“You cannot. Be still and keep your mouth shut.” Mrs. Chapman looked as if she was prepared to sit on top of Jules if necessary.

Suzanne arrived at nine o’clock.

“Just get her things and take her away,” Mrs. Chapman said as soon as Suzanne stepped inside the kitchen.

“Eleanor, I know you’re upset.”

“Do you now?”

“Jules, why don’t you go upstairs? I’ll come up in a minute,” Suzanne said.

“You will do no such thing. The only place she’s going is out that door.”

“But it’s Christmastime, Eleanor. You know how hard it is to place –”

“I don’t care. Why should I, after the past twenty-four hours?”

“I know. It’s been –”

“Terrible? Awful? No. Hell is what it is – having a twelve-year-old child who’s capable of doing something like this. The police were here. In! My! House!”

“It was such a shock, finding out about her father.”

“Give me a break. That bum? Like she didn’t know what was going on with him. You can’t call
him
a father. Boozing all the time. Never working. Never visiting.”

“Please. Let’s not talk –”

“About Jules and Joe Doherty? What they are? He’s a drunk, and she’s going to be a juvenile delinquent. She’s always in a silent rage, snapping at everybody. Skips school, as you know very well, and is going to fail this year. Barricades herself in that room, which is a mess. Won’t help around the house,
do chores. How many times have I told you all this, Suzanne? The sooner she’s out of here, the better. There’s no family life for us with her around!”

“Eleanor! Jules, why don’t you –”

“She’s not moving! She goes into the girls’ room all the time. Who knows what’s missing? And I worry she’ll take her anger out on them. I never told Eileen this, but she tore up one of the dresses they gave her and stuffed the pieces in the garbage. Thought I didn’t notice, Jules? I mean, really! And what is she capable of if she can stay out all night?”

Mrs. Chapman threw her arms into the air. She was wild, frantic.

“I’m not going to be responsible. Looking after babies was tough, but that was nothing compared to this. And the girls. My precious girls. They wanted her out even before this happened. No. She’s got to go.”

“Eleanor, she can’t hear … she shouldn’t –”

Jules stood up. Despite the harshness of Mrs. Chapman’s words, it was strangely satisfying to see Mrs. Chapman act like her real self to an outsider.

“She’s a liar,” Jules said scornfully. “A phony, a money-grubbing witch –”

“Jules! Stop!” Suzanne commanded.

“See?” Mrs. Chapman yelled. “That’s just what you can expect from a worthless piece of trash.”

“Stop! It’s time to calm down, Eleanor. Jules, let’s go upstairs.”

Suzanne grabbed Jules’s arm and led her out of the kitchen.

“Yes. Better get me out of here,” Jules said, looking back contemptuously at Mrs. Chapman. “Or I’ll show you just how rotten I really am!”

D
ecember 11. One year gone by
.

A million years gone by
.

The emergency home was off Dundas Street, near the Cloverdale Mall. It was as noisy and chaotic as Mrs. Currie’s home. Two other foster kids were staying there.

Suzanne told Jules she was going to have to tell potential foster parents about her behavior and the bad relationship she’d had with the Chapmans. She warned Jules that if she didn’t smarten up, it’d be hard to place her. She went on and on, trying to make Jules feel guilty.

There’s only one thing I care about
.

“How’ll my dad find me?”

“Jules, I thought you were smarter than that. All he has to do is contact Children’s Aid.”

“But what if he doesn’t? What if he phones or
goes to the Chapmans’ and I’m not there?”

“They’ll let him know what’s happened.”

I bet they will
.

The only good thing to come out of the last few days was that Jules didn’t have to put up with Sister Martha Jane. The Christmas holidays were starting soon, and she might have to transfer to a new school after Children’s Aid found her another foster home.

December 12. Saturday.

It was just getting light out. Jules put on lots of clothes, went downstairs before anyone was up, quietly found her coat and boots, and left the house.

I’m getting good at this
.

It’s better to be outside. My sadness can spread out – into the open air
.

It was too bright. Everything seemed too alive. Even though it was early, people were out walking or rushing around in their cars as if they belonged somewhere.

She walked over to Bloor, caught a bus, and got off at the library, where she spent the next few hours reading and dozing.

About one-thirty, she got to the Six Points Plaza. Christmas lights and decorations brightened the storefronts. Once again, a small Christmas tree forest had sprung up in the parking lot.

How familiar everything looks. But how different. It’s still me, Jules, staring out at the world, but I’ve changed. Everything’s changed
.

She began pacing up and down in front of Zellers. She didn’t want to stay there, didn’t want to leave.

Why can’t I just disappear, dissolve, like a mirage?

Jules put her face to the glass and held a hand to either side to hold back the glare of the sun.

“Hi, Jules.” Mrs. Adamson’s voice.

How did she see me?

“Hi,” Jules mumbled, turning back to face the glass.

“How’ve you been?”

Jules turned to face Mrs. Adamson, but couldn’t bring herself to look up. “Uh, okay. I guess.”

The truth of a lie
.

“You don’t … you look awfully thin.”

Stop! Please!

“How’s your dad?”

Tears started to form, but Jules smothered them. “Um … he’s …”

Panic. What can I say? Stupid, stupid father
.

“I don’t know.” Jules almost spit the words out. “He took off again.” She looked up into Mrs. Adamson’s face and saw what she’d wanted to see: Mrs. Adamson missed her.

Time to go, time to go
.

“Oh, Jules.” Mrs. Adamson tried to touch her arm.

Jules pushed her away, almost knocking her over. But Mrs. Adamson just stood there, looking as if Jules had been the one to get hurt.

“Don’t blame yourself.”

You don’t know anything about it!

But as she looked at Mrs. Adamson, Jules knew – had always known – that Mrs. Adamson understood somehow.

She had to get out of there – and ran.

Back to nothing. Over to nothing. Around to nothing
.

When Jules returned to the emergency home, she went up to the room assigned to her, pulled out Maggie from her suitcase, and rocked back and forth on the bed.

My dad is never coming back to me
.