The Right and the Real (26 page)

“This is different. You wanted me to talk to them. That’s what my court-appointed shrink calls a
possible confrontational situation ’
cause I might get real angry, and the next thing ya know, people are yellin’, and somebody gets punched, and the cops are there haulin’ me off to jail. I’m supposed to avoid that crap.”

“And you don’t think breaking into his trailer is confrontational?” I asked.

“I don’t care anymore. They got him locked up. I can’t let that shit slide.”

“You’ll get caught,” I said.

He grunted.

Why was I trying to talk LaVon out of this? If he wanted to rescue my dad, I should be thanking him. But still…“You’re on parole,” I reminded him.

LaVon slammed his knife down on the cutting board. “You think I don’t know that?” he asked. “You think it slipped my mind?”

“Uh…no…no…I mean—”

“This is bullshit.” He grabbed his knife and chopped the mushrooms so fast he practically pulverized them. “Don’t you get it? I hate bullies. Those goddamned church people latched on to your dad for his money, James. They don’t give a damn about his soul. It pisses me off.”

“Ummm…okay…but—”

“But nothing,” he growled.

I finished slicing my carrots in silence while LaVon banged pans around me until he found the wok. He plugged it into the wall and poured peanut oil into it. I stood over my carrots, not sure what to do, but kind of afraid to ask.

“You done?” he said.

I nodded.

“Have a seat,” he said. “I forgot to buy rice at the store, so I picked it up at the Chinese place.” I watched LaVon chop peppers, broccoli, and something green I didn’t recognize, noting his technique for next time. “Sorry about yellin’,” he said after a while. He tossed handfuls of vegetables into the hot oil, and they sizzled and jumped. “I hate it when the big guys pick on someone weaker than them, ya know?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re right. I can’t be breakin’ the law, or my daughter will find out. I won’t be seein’ my grandbaby anytime soon if I screw up now.”

“I know. But thanks anyway.”

LaVon moved the vegetables around in the crackling wok with a wooden spoon and the odor of garlic filled the room. “You come up with some way to get in there without gettin’ me arrested,” he said, “and I’ll go with you.”

“Really?” I asked.

He handed me a plate of rice and vegetables.

“Hell, yeah,” he said. He gave me a wide, almost evil, smile. “I can’t be breakin’ the law, but I wouldn’t mind puttin’ the fear of God in those people.”

THE ONLY GOOD THING THAT HAPPENED OVER THE
weekend was the Olivier picture sold to someone in Japan for twelve hundred dollars. I still had a week because the deposit wasn’t due until March 7th, so as long as the buyer paid the money into my PayPal account in the next couple of days, I was golden.

Josh wasn’t in school on Monday or Tuesday, and I got in trouble four times in class for not paying attention because I was imagining the worst. Krista had called the Right & the Real during morning break, asking for Mr. Cross, pretending she was the secretary from the newspaper’s sales office where he used to work, but she’d spoken to a woman who said he wasn’t available and would call her back. He never did.

Finally, on Wednesday, I saw Josh, but every time we passed each other in the hallway, he turned away, not looking at me. Above his left cheekbone was the faint greenish tinge of a black eye. When Megan tried to talk to him at lunch, he stonewalled her.

“He acted like I wasn’t there,” she said. “Derrick too.”

During last period, I sat with Liz and Krista on pillows in the
drama room. While they gossiped, I sorted through my overdue French homework. This was probably the first time I’d ever tried to do an assignment during drama class, and it was impossible because of all the noise.

“I’m going to get a drink,” I said, heading for the fountain in the hall. I was slurping the tepid water when Josh came down the stairs, presumably looking for me. Thirty seconds later, we were sitting on the couch in the back of the scene shop. The single bulb over the prop shelves cast an ugly shadow over the green bruise on his face.

“Is my dad okay?” I asked. “Is he still living in disciple housing? Do you—”

“They’ve got him in lockdown in the first trailer, right next to the guard station.”

Crap. Figures they’d keep a close eye on him. “What about your mom?” I asked.

“Listen, I don’t have very much time,” he said. He ran his hands over his cropped hair, reminding me how much I loved to do that. It was prickly and soft at the same time. I shook my head to wipe away that thought.

“Your dad needs help,” he continued, “but I can’t do anything else. I can’t risk getting kicked out.”

“You could live with your mom.”

“Not without Derrick, and he won’t go.”

“I know he’s your brother, but he
likes
the church. It’s not as if you could get him out of there and he’d suddenly change or something.”

“He needs me.”

We sat there, at an impasse. I’d needed Josh, but he hadn’t seemed to care about that.

“Jamie,” he said, “Derrick is…well, when we were little, he used
to draw a lot. He’s a really good artist. And he likes to read novels too. He’s gay.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You think he’s gay because he’s artistic?”

Josh gave me one of those withering looks you read about in books. “No, I think he’s gay because he told me he’s attracted to guys. I just mentioned the art stuff so you’d understand what you see is not who he is.”

“Derrick said he likes guys?” I asked.

“Yeah, a couple of years ago.”

“Wow.” No wonder Josh wasn’t homophobic like his other jock friends.

“Unfortunately, my dad overheard us talking about it. You can guess how that went over. Derrick ended up having to go to special meetings with the Teacher to ‘learn to be a man.’ It’s pretty much the only reason they let us go to public school. They thought sports would toughen him up and the cheerleaders would turn him on, but it made him shut down instead.”

I scooted closer to Josh on the couch. “I still don’t understand why you can’t leave. Maybe it would set a good example for him.”

“They’ll keep us apart, and I don’t want to lose him.”

I laid my hand on his shoulder. I hated to see him looking so…defeated. I’d cared for Josh for a long time. I couldn’t turn it off like a light switch. I slid up next to him and took his big hands in both of mine.

“I don’t know what the hell to do anymore,” he said.

“It’ll be okay.” He leaned into me, his forehead on my shoulder, and I stroked the back of his neck. As my hand touched him, a flash of a movie camera tattoo played across my mind. I’d told Trent that
Josh was history, but was he? It was like our lives were tied up together, whether I wanted them to be or not, because of the church. I forced myself to forget about Trent for the moment. “I’m sorry, Josh.…I’m really sorry.”

His life seemed even worse than mine. His family was at odds, he had to fight to stay in school, and his dad was a total dictator. I had drama school ahead of me, my friends, my job, maybe something romantic with Trent, and LaVon to look out for me too. And Josh didn’t even have anyone to confide in anymore now that I’d broken up with him.

After a few minutes, Josh pulled away. “So what are you going to do about your dad?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, we have to get him out, but I’m not sure how.”

“You need a legitimate reason to get past the guards, but I don’t know what.” He stood up. “I really have to go, but if I hear any news, I’ll try to let you know.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Jamie?” The light glowed behind him, leaving his face in shadow so I couldn’t see his expression, but his voice was soft and pleading. “Jamie, I—”

His phone beeped in his pocket and he pulled it out to look at the screen. “I gotta go,” he said. “Dad’s freaking. The house is a disaster since my mom left, and he’s hosting the disciple supper on Saturday night. I’ve got to catch Derrick before he goes to wrestling and make him come home with me to help clean it up, because we won’t have time later this week.”

Something clicked in my brain. “Your house is a mess?” I asked.

“A dump.”

“In only four days?”

“We’re guys. What can I say?”

I jumped up and threw my arms around him. “I’ve got it!”

“What?” he asked. “I missed something.”

“Housecleaners!” I said. “We’ll make a flyer and use Krista’s phone number, and you can give it to your dad, and he can hire us to clean for him on Saturday. It’ll be short notice, so the only time we’ll be able to come is in the morning while everyone’s in Assembly. And once we’re inside, we’ll get my dad out of there somehow.”

“It might work,” he said.

I was so excited, I squeezed him tightly, and he hugged me back. Then, just like a cliché in a romance novel, he brushed a stray piece of hair out of my eyes, and the next thing I knew, I was being kissed. Part of me wanted to shove him away. He’d betrayed me, leaving me on my own when I needed him most. But a warm rush of comfort and reassurance flooded through me too, and I let him push me back down onto the couch.

The weight of his body, familiar and warm, pressed me into the sofa, and he cupped my face with one hand while he stroked my hair with the other. I melted under him, my hands grabbing at his back, pulling him even closer if possible. I wanted to disappear into the heat between us.

“Jamie, I’ve missed you,” he said.

Just the way he said “I’ve missed you,” so whiny and needy, made something snap inside me. He sounded like he thought it was me who had ruined everything, when he’d been the one who caused us so many problems with his stupid secret relationship. I shoved him off and scooted out from under him.

“You don’t have any right to miss me,” I said.

“I know. I know—”

“You’re the one who decided I wasn’t worth it,” I said. I adjusted my shirt, and my breath came short and fast. I didn’t know if it was from the kissing or anger. “You let me down, Josh.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” he asked.

“Let’s just go,” I said.

“Yeah…okay.”

In the hallway, I put my hand on his arm, stopping him. “I’ll slip a flyer for our cleaning company into your locker.”

“I’ll do what I can,” he promised.

He went up the stairs, and I tried to shake off what had just happened. It didn’t mean anything, and I would not let him get that close to me again. There was a certain someone with silky brown hair who needed to know he could trust me too.

I took a deep breath and then flopped over at the waist and let it out in a big sigh, shaking my body, like we do for dance and acting warm-ups. I could feel myself finally really letting go of Josh, and it felt great. I skipped happily back to the drama room to find Liz and Krista.

“I need a phone to text Trent,” I told them.

Krista handed me hers. “What for?”

“Just about a video project I have in mind,” I said, smiling. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, we have a lot of work to do.”

IT WAS JUST AFTER SEVEN O’CLOCK, BUT THERE
wasn’t any moon, and the weak porch light barely lit up the yard. All I could see of LaVon was the glow of his cigarette, even though he wasn’t more than four feet away. Behind me, Krista shuffled through the grass, holding on to the back of my black hoodie. A guy LaVon knew called Gyp led the way, and he stuck to the shadows so well I couldn’t see him at all. When we got to the backyard, he stopped by the kitchen door, and Krista and I crashed into LaVon.

“Always check the back entrance,” Gyp said, speaking so softly we all had to lean in. He was as tiny as LaVon was huge. Almost as small as me, actually. “No point in breaking a window if some fool’s left the door unlocked.” He tried it with no luck. “What you need to do,” he said, taking us around to the side yard, “is check out the whole building first and find the easiest window to target.” After we’d made a complete circle around the house, he said to me and Krista, “So what window would you choose?”

“Ummm…the kitchen?” Krista said.

“No way.” He adjusted his black hood so even more of his face was hidden. “Look how high it is off the ground.”

“But it’s in the backyard,” she argued. “No one would see me.”

“You’ll break your neck trying to get out fast if there’s someone inside.” He leaned in toward me, and I almost gagged on the smell of stale cigarettes on his breath. “Well?”

“The bedroom?” I guessed.

He shook his head. “Nah. Someone might be sleeping in there.”

“I ain’t got all night,” LaVon said. “Just tell ’em, man.”

“I thought you was payin’ me for my expertise,” Gyp said.

“I ain’t gonna pay you nothin’ if you don’t get us inside the house in the next three minutes.”

Gyp glared up at him, which I thought was pretty brave, since LaVon could probably squash him flat with his thumb. “Hey, man, I don’t hafta help you. I got other places I could be, ya know?”

LaVon growled at him. An actual growl. It was pretty effective too, because Gyp turned to us immediately. “This way, ladies,” he said. On the side of the house he pointed at a large sliding window. “This is the weak spot.”

“But it’s got a wood dowel in the track inside so you can’t get it open,” Krista said.

“Don’t mean shit,” Gyp said. He pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket, slid it under the edge of the screen’s frame, and popped it off. Then he palmed the window and pushed up, jiggling it. The piece of doweling rolled right out of the track and off the sill into the living room. Half a second later, the window stood wide open.

“Who’s first?” he asked.

“Me,” I said.

LaVon gave me a boost, and before I was all the way through, Krista grabbed my legs and shoved me inside. I fell onto the living
room floor in a heap, and she landed on top of me. A man bolted from a reclining chair, and Krista screamed.

“What the hell?” we heard LaVon shout.

“Later, dude!” Gyp yelled.

George flicked on a floor lamp. “Jeez. You two almost gave me a heart attack,” he said, clutching his hands to his chest.