Bank Job (13 page)

They smiled happily.

“I can't tell you,” Joseph said, “how happy…”

“…it makes us,” Janice said.

“Except for—” said Joseph.

“It's great,” interrupted Billy, grinning like a maniac.

“Friggin' fantastic,” Tom agreed.

Joseph said, “You won't think a month in juvenile detention is so fantastic or…”

“…the three hundred hours of community service,” finished Janice. “It's going to be hard work.”

“Juvie,” I moaned. I knew juvie was not a nice place. “For a whole month!”

Joseph sighed. “It will probably be the hardest month of your life.”

“How come?” Tom growled.

“They work you from early morning to night. I've seen it so I know. You'll be mopping floors, cleaning and scrubbing, lifting and carrying— anything and everything. Kitchen work, field work, you name it. You're not going to like it, I promise.”

We groaned.

Miss Farthingale joined us. “Don't complain,” she said. “It's an extremely light sentence. The judge was easy on you.”

“Easy!” said Billy. “What does she do for hard? Send you to Siberia to work on a chain gang?”

“I knew we'd end up in friggin' jail,” moaned Tom. He turned to Billy. “I friggin' told you.”

But Billy wasn't listening. He seemed stunned. “Plus three hundred hours community work,” he groaned.

I said nothing. What could I say? Actually, I was so happy not to be leaving Janice and Joseph that I didn't care about the sentence. I would survive.

TWENTY-THREE

JULY

Before I knew it school was out for the summer and I had to say goodbye to Liesel. I didn't tell her I would be spending most of July in juvie. If I told her she would want to know why, and I had no intention of telling her—or anyone—the long, incredible story. They would think I was making it up.

I told my mom that I was going away on a trip. Some trip.

She probably forgot everything I told her as soon as I was gone. Poor Mom.

On the morning of July 3, Janice and Joseph drove us to what would be our home for the next twenty-eight days: the Juvenile Detention Home. Juvie.

We started saying our good-byes in the lobby.

“A month soon passes, especially if you're busy,” said Joseph before they left us. “You're all strong. You'll be fine.”

“We'll be back for you on the thirtieth,” said Janice, trying to smile. “The house will be so empty without you.”

“Think of it as a well-earned holiday for you and Joseph,” said Billy.

“You deserve the break from us,” agreed Tom.

I was immediately separated from the boys. I felt totally alone. The boys were lucky. At least they had each other.

The less said about juvie the better. I didn't like it, but it could have been worse. Breakfast, as much as you wanted, was at six. If you were late you got nothing. There were eight girls, ranging in age from eleven to sixteen. Joseph was right about the work. It was hard. We started at seven. Everyone was put to work cleaning. The supervisors were strict, but they were fair. I worked mostly in the kitchen and the laundry. Work ended at six. Then it was supper and back to the dormitory, a long room with twenty beds. Lights out was eight o'clock.

For the first week, I ached all over.

Most of the other girls had been there before, some of the hard cases had been there several times. They hassled me because it was my first time. I had a fight after lights out with an older girl. She kept on at me with her foul language. She took a swipe at me, but I ducked. I punched her in the stomach twice and kicked both her shins. The fight was over before it started. The other girls screamed with excitement. They left me alone after that. The night supervisor, a big woman—they were all big women—named Miss Coke, gave us a tongue-lashing. She woke us up at four-thirty the next morning to run around outside in the cold for thirty minutes wearing only our pj's.

Seeing Janice and Joseph when it was all over was like seeing a pair of shining angels. They hugged us. Janice was crying. I was so happy—like Christmas and Easter and my birthday and my mom's birthday all rolled into one.

Tom had a black eye and a band-aid on his forehead but he was grinning like he'd just won the lightweight boxing championship of the world.

It looked to me like Billy had enjoyed being in jail. He was an inch taller and looked like he'd completed a triumphant exploration in the jungles of darkest Africa.

TWENTY-FOUR

Saturday night, a week later, I was sitting on my bed trying to brush the juvie out of my hair and mind.

“Will you brush my hair when you're finished?” Lisa asked. Janice would be taking her into hospital on Monday for her operation.

Right now, she was sitting on her bed, Pumpkin in her lap.

“Of course. I'd love to brush your hair. Want me to braid it? It would look so cool with lots of little braids.”

“Sure,” she said, absentmindedly patting Pumpkin's back. “Do you think getting my tonsils out will hurt? I'm really scared.”

“Don't be scared, Lisa. Once your tonsils are out, no more sore throats. And you get as much jelly and ice cream as you want.”

“Just thinking about the operation scares me. But the worst part is I'll have to stay overnight at the hospital. All alone.” Her eyes filled with tears.

I held her and she buried her face in my shoulder. “I sure missed you when you were away,” she murmured. “And the boys. I missed them too. But I missed you the most.”

She felt small and thin, like her bones were twigs. “And I missed you,” I told her, patting her back. “You shouldn't worry. I'm sure the operation will be quick. They'll put you to sleep so you won't feel a thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“I'm positive. And when you wake up, we'll all be there. Janice and Joseph and the boys and me. Our whole family.”

“Promise?” she said, rubbing her nose on her pajama sleeve and sniffing.

“Everything is going to be all right, Kiddo. I promise.”

Showering and scrubbing took me longer now that I was coming home smelling of horses. I tried to get home for a shower before the others so I wouldn't have to put up with rude comments like, “Phew! Did someone sit on a skunk or something?” from Tom. It was great having that extra bathroom. Janice and Joseph had surprised us with the new bathroom when we got home from juvie.

My job was cleaning out the stalls and brushing the police horses. I actually didn't mind it. I loved the horses and loved learning about them. They were starting to recognize me, especially when I brought carrots or apples for treats. I got to work with a nice First Nations woman named Denise. I was lucky. I had the best job out of the three of us.

Billy worked at the recycling depot, sorting glass, plastic, newspapers and cardboard. He came home filthy too, though he didn't smell as bad as I did.

Tom's job was the worst. He had to scrub pots and pans in the kitchen at Burnaby General Hospital.

“Filthy smelly pots,” he complained when we were hanging out in the boys' room one night. “Downright disgusting.”

“Hey, Tom, my man,” Billy said. “You want to trade jobs halfway through? I'll do your job at the hospital. And you do mine at the Recycling Centre. All that fresh air and sunshine, you'd love it.”

“You'd do that? You'd trade with me?”

“Sure thing. What are friends for?” Billy leaned over and gave him the two-fisted Musketeers salute. He turned to me. “What's family for? Right, Nails?”

“Right on. All for one and one for all,” I said, grinning at him. “By the way, I've gone back to my real name. No more Nails, okay?”

Tom's eyebrows disappeared under his spiky hair. “No more Nails?”

“I like Nell,” Billy said and gave me one of his sweet smiles.

If I hadn't been lounging on the orange beanbag, I probably would have melted right there.

“Nell is a good name,” said Tom, nodding thoughtfully, as if there had been some doubt. “My father used to say, ‘We learn little from victory, much from defeat.'”

I looked at Billy. Billy looked at me. “What's victory and defeat got to do with me changing my name back to Nell?”

Tom shrugged. “I'm not sure.”

Billy laughed. Then I laughed and Tom joined in. After everything that had happened, I was ready for my real name. I'd worn Nails long enough. It was time to be me again.

JAMES HENEGHAN
is the best-selling author of dozens of books for kids and young adults, including
Safe House
and
Waiting for Sarah.

NORMA CHARLES
has written many books for kids including
The Accomplice
, winner of the Sheila A. Egoff Children's Literature Prize.

Norma and James both live in Vancouver, British Columbia.
Bank Job
was inspired by a newspaper account of three teens who robbed seven banks in Vancouver.