This Dark Road to Mercy: A Novel (4 page)

“Really?” Marcus asked. His voice sounded excited. “Who’d he play for?”

“The Gastonia Rangers,” I said, “and a couple of other teams you’ve probably never heard of.”

“Did he make it to the big leagues?”

“Not even close.”

“Did you ever see him pitch?”

“A couple times when I was real little, but I don’t really remember it.” That was the truth. My clearest memory of going to a Rangers game was the last time Mom took us not long after Ruby was born. Rowdy Ranger, the mascot, was going around to all the kids in the stands and giving them high fives. He had on a white cowboy hat and a black mask over his eyes. When he saw me and Mom, he came trotting down the stairs toward us, but right as he reached out his hand to slap mine he tripped over the last step and spilled my Coke all over Ruby. She was just a little baby, and she wouldn’t stop crying once she got wet. People around us started fussing, trying to give Mom napkins to dry Ruby off, but Mom took one look at Rowdy Ranger and another look at her sopping-wet baby, and she packed up all our stuff and took us right home. That was the last time I’d been to a baseball game.

“Sammy Sosa used to play for the Gastonia Rangers before he got called up to Texas,” Marcus said.

“I know. My dad used to play with him.”

“Wow,” Marcus said.

“Yeah, and I saw Michael Jordan at the Food Lion.”

“Really?” he asked, laughing.

“Of course not,” I said. “I don’t believe a word my dad’s ever told me.”

“Sosa hit another one tonight against the Giants,” he said. “That’s forty-nine.”

“He’s still two behind McGwire.”

“I know,” he said, “but he’ll catch him.”

My palm had started to sweat, and I thought about turning Marcus’s hand loose, but then I felt his thumb rub mine real gently, and I decided that it felt nice no matter how sweaty my hand got.

“Do you think your dad will try to get you back?” he asked.

“He might,” I said. “But I don’t think he can, and I don’t want to go with him if he does.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a long story,” I said. Then I said, “He told me today that he’s afraid somebody’s going to adopt us soon just because we’re white.”

Marcus sat there and didn’t say nothing, but I could tell he was thinking about what I’d said. “He’s probably right, you know,” he finally said. “I bet y’all would have a better chance of getting adopted because of that.” We were quiet for a minute. Then Marcus whispered, “Did you tell him anything about your grandparents?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t want to think about that. Not yet anyway.”

“I know,” Marcus said. “I don’t want to think about that either.” He squeezed my hand, and I squeezed his back. “But what if you have to go?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “We don’t even know them. We’ve never met them. It’s kind of like they’re not even real.” I looked over at Ruby and thought about what she’d said earlier about us going to Alaska. “There ain’t no way it would be a good idea for us to just show up in Alaska.”

“So what’s your plan?” he asked.

I leaned my head against the wall and smiled. “You really want to know?”

“Yes,” he said.

I closed my eyes and told him that I’d do whatever I could to make sure that me and Ruby stayed in the home until I was eighteen because then I’d be able to adopt her and take her with me wherever we wanted to go.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

“College,” I said. I told him that I wanted to take Ruby with me and get her in a school near the college. We’d both go to class all day, and at night I could get a job because Ruby would be old enough to stay home by herself.

“You think you can take her with you to college?” he asked. “Think she could live with you in the dorm?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “We could get a little place of our own so we wouldn’t have to live with anybody else. Besides,” I said, “I’m sick of living with other people anyway.”

“My cousin Janae goes to Gaston College,” he said. “She’s got a little girl who’s three. They have an apartment.”

“Yeah,” I said, “but that’s just community college. That’s just right down the road.”

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “I just want to go to a
real
college. The kind you have to pack up and leave home for.”

He asked me what I wanted to go to school for, and I told him that I wanted to be a police officer because it was the easiest way to explain it. I didn’t tell him that I really wanted to be in the FBI.

“I think you’d be a good cop,” he said. “I wouldn’t mess with you.”

“You’d better not,” I told him. “I’d throw the cuffs on you.”

He laughed, and then he unlaced his fingers from mine and put his hand in his lap. “Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Yes.”

“Why do you only talk to me when I come over here at night?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You don’t ever talk to me anywhere else,” he said. “You won’t even hardly look at me: not at school, not after school. It’ll probably be the same way on Monday too.”

I didn’t know what to say because I hadn’t thought about it before, and I didn’t know how to explain myself.

“You wouldn’t even let me meet your dad today,” he said.

“That doesn’t mean nothing,” I said. “Nobody’s met him. I don’t hardly know him.”

“But you’ve met
my
mom and dad,” he said.

“One time,” I said. “I met them one time after school, and you didn’t even tell them I’m your girlfriend.”

“Are you?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m not sure.”

“You wouldn’t think so by how you act.”

“I just don’t want nobody knowing my business,” I said.

“That means you just don’t want them knowing about me.”

“That’s not what it means.”

“Whatever,” he said. He climbed down from the bed.

“Where you going?” I asked.

“I have to go,” he said. “I’ve been here too long anyway.” He slid the window open and put his hands on the windowsill. He stood there, bent over, looking outside like he was waiting for me to say something, but I didn’t know what to say. I’d been wondering if we’d kiss again when he left, and when it looked like we wouldn’t it made me realize how bad I’d wanted to. “Maybe I’ll see you at school,” he said. He put his foot outside and sat on the sill, and then he lifted his other foot through and slid out. I heard him drop to the ground.

C H A P T E R   4

M
arcus didn’t come back to my window the next night or Sunday night either, and I didn’t see him at school on Monday because we weren’t in the same class. After school was over, he must’ve gone straight home because he didn’t hang around and play kickball with us like he usually did. He didn’t have to stay after school like me and Ruby. His mom usually got off work before he got home, and even if she didn’t he was allowed to be at home by himself. Most kids my age were, but not me. None of the kids from the home could be there without Miss Crawford or one of the other workers, so we had to hang around after school until someone came to pick us up in the van.

By Friday, I was half convinced I’d never see Marcus again. I told myself that if I ever did see him I’d tell everyone I knew that he was my boyfriend: Ruby, Miss Crawford, even Wade if he ever decided to show up again.

Saturday morning, after breakfast, Ruby hung out with some of the little kids and watched cartoons in the TV room. I stayed in our room and stared at the wall with a Nancy Drew mystery,
The Case of the Disappearing Diamond,
open on my lap, trying to figure out all the things Marcus could be thinking.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate enough to solve the mystery with Nancy if I was just going to sit there and think about something else while listening to the little kids laugh at cartoons a few rooms over, so I climbed off my bed and walked toward the office to ask Miss Crawford if she’d sign me on to one of the computers.

There were two computers in the study room for playing games and getting on the World Wide Web. I didn’t ever have any reason to get on the Web, but I liked hearing the loud, fuzzy sound of the phone line dialing. I thought that voice saying,“you’ve got mail,” was pretty neat, even though I’d never gotten an e-mail myself. I’d never had a reason to send one either. I liked getting on the computer for one thing only: Oregon Trail. I’d name two of the pioneers after me and Ruby and play for hours, and once the rest of them died off I’d pretend that it was just me and her in that wagon, shooting at turkeys and deer and floating across rivers on our way out West.

I walked past the computer room and peeked in to make sure one of the computers was open. A boy named Travis who was a few years younger than me was sitting at one of them. I couldn’t tell what he was looking at, but he had on earphones and I could hear rap music playing from where I stood; he nodded his head to the beat.

Hopefully somebody wouldn’t claim that other computer before I could get back, and I walked down the hall to the office; it was through a door just off the kitchen.

When I got closer I could hear a man’s voice, and I stopped in the kitchen and listened at the door. Miss Crawford was talking too, and she was being stern with somebody. Her voice sounded just like she looked: skinny and tough. She was old and had gray hair, but all of us knew she meant business, and nobody messed with her.

“Listen,” she said, “I ain’t the person you need to be talking to.” A file cabinet slid open, and I heard her take something out and slide the drawer closed.

“But they’re my kids,” the man’s voice said. I recognized it immediately; it was Wade. He sounded nervous and scared, completely different from how he’d acted when we’d seen him at the baseball field the week before.

“Not in the eyes of the court they ain’t,” Miss Crawford said. “Not legally. Their files say you gave them up in 1996, and you don’t get them back just because their mama died. You can’t just show up after school like you did or come over here on a Saturday morning and try to see them.”

“But when I signed that paper they said there was some kind of provision that gave me visitation rights. I remember that. I remember that from when I signed it.”

“There might’ve been,” Miss Crawford said. “That’s something you’re going to have to ask the judge about. Or you can contact their guardian ad litem, Brady Weller. Here’s his card.”

When I heard Brady Weller’s name I immediately pictured him. Me and Ruby had met him a couple times. The first time was the morning we woke up in the home after we’d moved in the night before. He was waiting for us in the living room with Miss Crawford. She told us who he was, and then she led us to the dining room table and left us alone. Brady was tall with short blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was older than Mom, but as soon as I saw him I couldn’t help but wish that she’d been friends with guys like Brady Weller instead of Calico. He set a couple of folders on the table in front of him, but he didn’t open them. I think he would’ve smiled at us if we’d been anybody else, but he seemed to know we probably wouldn’t feel like smiling back. “How do y’all like your new room?” he asked, leaning forward and putting his hands on the table.

Me and Ruby just sat there staring at the table. But then she looked up at me, and then she looked at Brady. “Our mom’s dead,” she finally said. Her eyes started filling up with tears.

Brady reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “I know,” he said. “And I was awfully sorry to hear that. But this is a good place to be. Miss Crawford’s really nice, and she’s really excited about y’all being here. And I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”

Wade had gotten quiet on the other side of the door, and he must’ve been looking down at Brady’s card.

“Why do I even have to call anybody?” he asked. “They’re my kids.”

“I know that, Mr. Chesterfield,” Miss Crawford said. “But there’s just nothing else I can do for you.”

I imagined Wade staring at Miss Crawford with a look in his eyes that begged her to do anything she could do to help him. She must’ve seen the look I had in mind, because she said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Chesterfield, but this is just the way things have to be.”

“I get it,” he finally said. “But I don’t have a lot of time on my hands.”

“I understand,” she said.

“So just let me see them today,” he said. “I’m not asking for much. Just a few minutes. That’s all.”

Miss Crawford interrupted him. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t do that. I probably shouldn’t tell you what I’m about to tell you, but I want you to understand this situation. We’ve been in contact with the girls’ grandparents in Alaska, and they’re working really hard to adopt these girls, and so far they’ve done everything right, everything the court’s asked of them.”

“Well, that’s just great,” Wade said. “You need to know that those people haven’t ever laid eyes on these girls, not once in their whole lives. But me, I’m
here
. I want them. They’re
my
girls.”

“I understand,” Miss Crawford said. “But that’s not how the law works.”

“I know how the law works,” Wade said. “And I know it never works for people like me.” He was quiet for a second, and then his voice came out in a whisper. “Are you going to send my girls to Alaska?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, but I can’t say for sure. I ain’t in no kind of position to make any promises.”

I heard the floor creak as Wade walked toward the door that led out to the porch. I heard him put his hand on the knob and turn it, and then I heard the sound the door made when he opened it. But then I knew that he was just standing there because I didn’t hear it close.

“I want you to know that I was tricked into signing that paper,” he said. “I never would’ve signed it if I’d known I was giving them up.”

“I understand,” Miss Crawford said. “And I—” But Wade shut the door and she didn’t say nothing else.

I didn’t knock on the office door to ask Miss Crawford to sign me on to the computer because I didn’t feel like playing Oregon Trail anymore. I didn’t feel like doing much of anything right then except being alone. I crept across the kitchen and walked down the hallway, past the computer room with that empty computer, back to our bedroom. I closed the door behind me and sat on the edge of the bed and just looked around at the few things we had in there that we could call our own: the light pink bedspreads covering mattresses that sat up off the floor like beds are supposed to; a closetful of clothes; the board games and books stacked up beneath the table between our beds. I tried to imagine those things far away from here in some bedroom in Alaska, where Mom had told us it snowed so much that it piled up against the windows, where there wasn’t no sun for almost half the year and it was always dark just like the nighttime. It was impossible to picture me and Ruby and any of our things in a place like that.