The Hybrid (17 page)

But the short ride back to town in the warm truck was
nowhere
near
enough
time to
dry her
sopping
wet
clothes. The loose strands of hair that dangled from her
forehead and out of her bun still dripped small drops of
water against her cheeks and back of her neck. Her hands
still felt mildly frostbitten. Her jeans were still soiled with
mud that had yet to dry. And her grey hoodie ⎯ under
her slightly heavier, but equally as wet, jacket⎯ was still
about three shades darker than it should have been. Both
the hoodie and the jacket clung to her back and arms,
making her very uncomfortable as she sat awkwardly between the two tall men.

“So where are we taking you?” Sheriff West said as
they reached the stop sign at the edge of town. After
about three seconds, he pressed the gas pedal and the
truck began to move again. “Back to your grandparents?”

“Um,” Tru paused, looking out of the windshield. The
turn for her road was just two stop signs away. And by no
means was she ready to go back home. “Can you drop me
off at the supermarket? I told my grandmother I would
stop and pick up a few things for her on my way home. I
can walk from there.” The lies were coming easier and
more frequently it seemed. And Tru wasn’t sure when
they would stop.

“Are you sure?” the sheriff asked, looking over at the
young girl. “We can drive you home from there too if you
would like.”

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine. It’s only a few blocks. Thank you
for the offer though.” Tru smiled casually and folded her
hands across the heavy jacket sitting in her lap. “And
thank you for helping me find my way out of that forest.”

“No problem. It was my pleasure.” The Sheriff removed his hat and placed it on the dusty dashboard in
front of him.

Less than three minutes later, the old Ford was pulling
into the parking lot of the supermarket. Tru knew she lied
about needing anything there, but it was only because she
couldn’t think of anywhere else at the time. So, as the
truck made its way to the curb beside the front door of the
store, Tru took a deep breath. She watched as Jim opened
the passenger door and hopped out, and continued to
hold the door open as he waited for her to do the same.
Tru quickly slid over to the passenger’s seat and turned to
place the camouflage jacket in the center seat.

“Thanks again,” she said as she hopped down from the
truck and onto the cement curb.
“Anytime,” the two men said in unison as Jim climbed
back inside the truck.
“If you need anything Miss Mason, you know where
you can find me,” Sheriff West said as he leaned toward
the passenger’s side door.
“Alrighty,” Tru said, with a slightly awkward, and fake
smile. And as she turned around and made her way
through the glass door of the supermarket, she could hear
the truck pulling away behind her.

15
Common Ground

Bethany walked home from school in silence, wondering the same thing she had for the past three afternoons.
Mrs. Mason told her that Gertrude had been in an accident, but what kind of accident? Bethany knew Mrs. Mason was hiding something, and even though Bethany was
typically a nosey person, she knew she couldn’t snoop
around too much this time. She had to give them their
space.

Maybe she’s avoiding me
, Bethany thought.
Maybe I
came on too strong on Friday?
But she knew Mrs. Mason wasn’t lying. No one would
miss school three days in a row unless it was for a good
reason.
As the heels of her wedges clicked against the wet cement sidewalk, Bethany slowly looked up at the sky, then
back at the road in front of her. She was only a few short
blocks away from home, but the clouds above her looked
ominous and looming.

Quickly,
she
dug
through
her
large
purse,
sifting
through lipsticks and perfumes, looking for the bright
pink umbrella she had shoved into the bag earlier that
morning. When she found it, she hurriedly held it above
her, pressed the small handspring at the bottom of the
handle, and watched as the ribs of the umbrella opened
effortlessly. And within a few short minutes, she could
hear the gentle pitter-patter of the raindrops as they
landed against the bright pink fabric.

Bethany smiled as she continued walking down the
street. She loved the rain, but she didn’t like getting her
hair and clothes wet. She liked to watch it instead, from
the comfort of her room, or underneath an awning. And
walking through the small puddles of water in a pair of
strappy wedges ⎯ that were probably meant more for
summer⎯ was not fun to her at all.

When Bethany reached the stretch of sidewalk in front
of
her
house,
she
noticed
that
her
mother’s
car
was
parked neatly in the driveway. Quickly, she closed her
umbrella, walked to the front door and headed inside the
house.

“Mom?” she asked as she walked into the kitchen just
to the right of the entryway.

 

“Bethany? Is that you?” she could hear her mother yell
from somewhere on the second floor.

“Who else would it be?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure.” Bethany’s mother strode into the
kitchen moments later with a small notebook and pencil
in her hands. “Where is your brother?”

Bethany walked over to the kitchen table and sat down,
removing her purse from her shoulder as she did so. “I
think he said something about going over to a friends
house.”

“Did he tell you which friend?”
“No. And I didn’t ask. I’m not his babysitter, Mom.”
Bethany crossed her legs as she leaned back against the
wooden chair.
Bethany’s mother looked at her daughter as though she
had just spoken a foreign language. And after a few mo

ments of silence, the woman glanced back down at her
notebook and walked into the family room.

“What’s with the notebook?” Bethany asked as she
watched her mother leave the room. But the woman did
not respond. Instead, she continued walking through the
family room, and to the small office at the back of the
house. “Okay, well, I’ll be in my room if you need me,”
Bethany continued as she rose from the chair and left the
kitchen.

She hated when her mother ignored her, but the woman was busy, and Bethany knew it was best to let her be in
her own world for a couple of hours. So, as she climbed
the regal set of stairs to the second floor of the house, she
pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, and flipped it
open.

Told mom you went out. She’s in one of those moods
today. Don’t bug her.

Her fingers moved quickly across the small keyboard
on her phone. She was good with technology, and sending
over one thousand text messages a day only added to her
already advanced typing skills.

The phone buzzed in her hand indicating an incoming
message.
K.
As she slid the phone back in her pocket, she reached
her closed bedroom door. But she did not push it open.
Instead, she looked at the door, covered in pictures of her
and her friends, and took a deep breath. And after a few
more
minutes,
she
turned
away
from the
door,
and
walked down the hall toward the large rec room on the
opposite side of the house.
The room was cozy, even though it was the size of a
three-car garage. It was filled with two fluffy sectionals,
three different pieces of workout equipment ⎯ a treadmill, a weight bench, and an elliptical ⎯ and a large white
screen the length and width of one of the shorter walls
that accompanied a screen projector attached to the ceiling.
Bethany walked into the room slowly, shutting the
double doors behind her. As she sat on one of the tan sectionals, she dug her phone out of her front pocket once
again, flipped it open and punched in a phone number, all
within a few short seconds.
After three rings, the girl on the other end picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Danielle. It’s Bethany. Want to do something
tonight? I feel like I need to get out of the house.” Bethany picked at a loose thread on the couch as she spoke.
“Is your mom in one of those moods again?”
“Yeah. Distracted as usual. I think she might have another date tonight too that she’s not telling me about.”
The piece of string broke away from the couch seam in
Bethany’s fingers.
The girl on the other end took a deep breath that
sounded more like a sigh. “We could go see a movie.”
“Yeah,” Bethany replied. “That sounds fun. Do you
want to meet me here around five?”

“Sure,” Danielle agreed. “See you then.”

 

“Bye.”

As Tru wandered through the isles of the quant grocery
store, she thought about the little fairy girl she had followed through the forest. The girl had looked so different
from Edyn and Airi that it made her wonder whether or
not she was related to them at all. Tru couldn’t help but
wonder why she had looked so poor and disheveled. Edyn
had always appeared regal and ethereal standing before
her, like a Greek god with wings.

But she had the feeling she wasn’t going to have a
chance to ask Edyn about the girl. She hadn’t seen him in
over three days, and she feared she wasn’t going to be
seeing him anytime soon.

“Can I help you find something, Miss?” a young store
clerk said quietly behind Tru as she ran her finger along
the discount tags that lined the shelves. His voice startled
her, causing her to shudder slightly.

“No, thank you.” She smiled, slightly pondering over
what the young man must have thought of her, seeing her
in sopping wet clothes and muddy shoes.

“Okay. Well, if you need anything, just ask.” The young
man smiled back at her before turning away to ask an elderly woman the same question. Tru watched him for a
few seconds, before turning away to walk down to the end
of the isle at the front of the store.

The giant picture windows in front of her looked out
over the parking lot, revealing that it had possibly not
stopped raining since she had begun perusing the store
an hour ago. Tru took a deep breath and then looked up
at the clock above the front door. It was almost three in
the afternoon. Bethany had been home for at least twenty
minutes if she had walked home. So, Gertrude grabbed a
bottle of water out of one of the coolers near one of the
registers and headed for the shortest line she could find.

“That’ll be a dollar fifty,” the little old woman at the
register said when it was Tru’s turn.
Tru grabbed a small folded wad of money out of her
back pocket and handed the woman two single dollar
bills. “Thanks. You can keep the change,” she said as she
began walking away.
“Did you need your receipt?” the woman shouted after
her, but Tru did not respond. Instead, she kept walking
toward the door, pulling her damp hood over her head as
she did so.
The air outside had grown much colder in the last
hour. It seemed as though it would possibly snow if it became any colder. Tru lifted her lightly frosted water bottle
in front of her, carefully twisting off the cap before she
took a quick swig. As she screwed the blue cap back onto
the bottle, she pulled her hood over her damp hair, and
headed for the sidewalk that led back into the neighborhood. And about a half an hour later, Tru found herself
standing on the sidewalk directly in front of the Meyer’s
house.
The
house
was
enormous,
much bigger
than Tru’s
grandparent’s house, and had a much larger, and wellmanicured yard as well. The grass was a beautiful shade
of green, and the flowers were all in bloom ⎯ even
though it was so late in the year. The house was a deep
shade of brown with white trim, and had ornate stonework wrapped around the lower half of it. The windows
looked as though they had all been replaced at some
point, and the entryway door was a bright shade of red
that popped against the brown and white. It reminded
Tru of a painting, with everything perfectly placed, making her slightly afraid to touch anything.
Tru looked up at the house, taking it all in, and then
quickly realized that she had been standing there for
much too long. Slowly, she walked up the long cobblestone pathway to the doorstep, and paused. Bethany had
to be home by now, and if Tru didn’t go to her house like
she had said she would, Maggie would find out, one way
or another. Gently, Tru pressed her finger against the
small button next to the door and waited.
“Coming!” a woman shouted.
The rain grew louder, making it hard to hear the woman’s voice clearly as she shouted something else that Tru
couldn’t quite understand. While she waited under the
craftsman styled, covered porch, Tru removed her hood,
and wiped away the rainwater that had fallen on her face
during her walk.
Soon, a young, blonde, tall, and very sophisticated
woman was opening the large red door. She looked almost exactly like Bethany. The only differences were the
black pantsuit she was wearing, the very expensive looking bright purple heels on her feet, and the fact that her
hair was in a tightly wrapped bun at the back of her head.
Her skin was tanned just like Bethany’s and her make-up
looked as though it had been applied by a team of highly
paid professionals.
“Hi. Can I help you?” the woman asked in a highpitched, singsong voice.
“Hello. I’m Gertrude. I’m looking for Bethany.”
Bethany’s mother looked down at the young girl’s sopping wet clothes, then back up at her face. “Oh,” the
woman paused, “Gertrude! Hello!” She reached out her
hand, so Tru cautiously grabbed it, trying not to show
how much she didn’t want to be there.
“You must be Mrs. Meyer,” Tru said, releasing the
woman’s hand.
“It’s Ms. Meyer, actually.”
Tru immediately felt bad. She had no idea Bethany’s
parents were no longer together.
We have more in common than I thought.
“Come on in, Bethany is in the kitchen.” Ms. Meyer
pushed her body against the open door, allowing Tru
some extra room to walk past her.
Tru could tell,
almost
immediately,
that
Bethany’s
mother must have been a very successful person. The
house was incredibly different from her grandparent’s,
mostly because it was more up-to-date than hers. The
walls in the open entryway were painted in a faux golden
sheen, with high vaulted ceilings so that one could see the
balcony to the second floor as soon as they walked into
the house. Almost every wall was covered in pictures of
exotic places in flat black frames. There was no carpet in
this part of the house. Instead, the floor was made of a
dark stone tile that eventually met up with dark hardwood floors toward the back of the house.
As Tru rounded a corner and followed Ms. Meyer into
the kitchen, she immediately noticed how new everything
looked. The cabinets were dark mahogany with granite
countertops and the appliances were the latest in kitchen
technology ⎯ touchscreens and stainless steel. Tru was
used to seeing these types of homes in San Diego, but not
in
Woodcrest
Hills.
Woodcrest
Hills
was
a
bedroom
community, not exactly known for expensive tastes and
showing off.
Tru walked further into the kitchen and saw Bethany
sitting quietly at the table next to a large window, with an
open book in front of her as she scribbled something into
a notebook. She looked up as Tru walked closer to her.
“Oh, hey Tru!” she said as she rose from her chair and
walked out from behind the table.
“Hi,” Tru replied, quietly. She looked around the room
one more time. “You have a really nice house.”
“Thanks.” Bethany pointed at her mom standing just a
few feet behind Tru. “My mom likes to show off.” Her
mother smiled, and then quickly left the room.
“So, I wanted to say thank you for the flowers,” Tru
said, looking down at the ground. Subconsciously, she
began twirling her thumbs around one another as they
rested just below her stomach. Tru wasn’t very good at
showing her gratitude and being forced to do it in person
wasn’t much better.
“Oh, no problem! I just thought it would be nice for
you to have something pretty and comforting to look at
when you woke up.” Bethany smiled, and then casually
looked over at the window. “So what exactly happened?”
she said, turning back to face Tru.
“Uh,” Tru paused, trying to come up with a simple,
logical answer, hoping Bethany couldn’t see the bruises
on her neck, “I don’t really remember. I just sort of woke
up on Sunday and got really sick. My grandma told me I
passed out and hit my head.” Tru turned and looked out
of the window, and across the front yard. The rain was
falling harder now, harder than she had ever seen rain
fall. She listened to the heavy drops as they slammed
against the roof of the porch outside.
“It’s crazy weather we’re having, isn’t it?”
“Hmm?” Tru asked. She felt bad that she had become
distracted by the rain and hadn’t clearly heard what Bethany had said. “Yeah, crazy,” she finally replied, still half
dazed.
“It’s usually pretty sunny here, even when we would
get snow, but lately, the weather’s been,” Bethany paused,
taking a deep breath, “off.”
Tru remembered back on the vacations she had spent
with her grandparents. The days back then were usually
pretty warm, considering they were in Montana. Some
days
were
slightly
cloudy,
but
they
were
still
warm
enough to need only a light jacket for when the sun started to set. And in December, when it would start to snow,
they still had amazing blue bird days, where sunglasses
were often needed.
But Tru
desperately needed
to change the subject.
Talking about the weather only meant one thing: “I have
nothing to talk about so I’m going to talk about Mother
Nature.” It was apparent that Bethany probably meant
something more along the lines of “I am going to pretend
that I have become distracted by the rain, but I really just
forgot what we were talking about.”
“So,” Tru began, “did I miss any homework?”
“Hmm?” Bethany asked as she turned back around to
look at Tru. “Oh, not much, really. Just Math. I took some
notes. If you want to borrow them you can.” She leaned
over the table, picked up a purple notebook, and quickly
turned back around to hand it to Tru. “Here you go,” she
added.
“Oh, thanks,” Tru replied, taking the notebook from
her. “Well,” she paused, trying to quickly come up with an
excuse to leave, then continued, “I better get going. My
grandma’s waiting.” She could feel the empty water bottle
in her jacket pocket, and knew she couldn’t use the grocery store as another escape. And as she turned and
headed for the door, Bethany began to follow her.
“Hey, Tru?” Bethany said when they were back in the
front entryway.
“Yes?” Tru asked, turning around to look at Bethany,
with her hand tightly gripping the doorknob.
“Well, the girls and I are having a party here on Saturday night. The whole junior and senior classes are going
to be there. You’re welcome to come too, if you want. It’ll
give you a chance to meet some more people.” Bethany
handed Tru a piece of bright pink paper from the small
rectangular table perpendicular to the door.