The Summer Kitchen (42 page)

Mama held him back, I know. She came with the angels, and she made him slide down in the mud where the downspout poured off the corner of the house by the oleander bush. She stopped him just long enough for us to get in the yard and slip through the wet green wall of the summer kitchen. Mama hid us down in the corner, real still, in that secret place where nothing bad could come in. Mama kept Opal quiet as a mouse while Uncle Len tore through the yard turning things over like a hungry lion looking for meat.

He didn’t know about the summer kitchen, and Mama wouldn’t let him see it, even when the wind bent the hollyhocks and lightning lit the sky. I could see him through the wall, but he couldn’t see us. Mama made sure he wouldn’t. She folded the hollyhocks low over us, so no one could see us at all.

She was there, just like she promised she would be.

She kept us safe, even after it seemed like Uncle Len was gone. She gave me the idea to wrap the tablecloth over us, and she told me to close my eyes.

She brought Mrs. Kaye to find us just as morning was coming, and I knew it would be all right to finally tell the truth about Rusty and me. We went in Poppy’s house, and we sat down at one of the tables, and I stripped off all the fake stories, until it was just me, Cass Sally Blue, the
real
Cass Sally telling everything that had really happened.

The funny thing was that Mrs. Kaye didn’t seem to mind the truth about Rusty and me. She smiled, and stuck out her hand, and said, “Nice to finally meet you, Cass Sally Blue.”

I felt kinda silly, but I shook her hand anyway. I guessed, in a way, it was like we were meeting for the first time.

“This is my husband, Rob,” she said, and I shook the hand of the man who was with her. He looked a little like Christopher, and I’d figured he was Christopher’s dad.

He smiled at me, and I decided I liked him pretty well. “How about some breakfast at McDonald’s?” he asked when Opal whined about being hungry. I didn’t worry about whether he’d want something in return for buying us breakfast. He didn’t look like he needed anything. He had on a gold wedding ring with a great big diamond that must of cost a bundle.

“Sure,” I said. “Thanks.”

At McDonald’s, Mrs. Kaye broke it to me that we’d have to go back to the apartment now, and see if the police or social services were still there. She asked where Rusty was, because they’d want to talk to him, too, and I said he’d be home anytime. As soon as I said it, a part of me was afraid. I got up to go to the bathroom, and I saw how I could sneak out the side door of McDonald’s. It wasn’t too far to the apartments from there. Maybe I could find some way to warn Rusty before he got home, and we could jump in the truck and drive away.

I stood by the door and watched Mrs. Kaye’s husband help Opal cut the last of her pancakes, and I thought about it.

You can’t do it, Cass Sally Blue. You can’t leave Opal, and run out on Mrs. Kaye.
Something in me turned a corner then, maybe grew up a little. One thing you gotta learn in your life is that it’s okay sometimes to let people in your business. Sometimes the people are there to help, and you didn’t even know it at first. There’s not a one of us meant to go along the road all by ourselves. That’s what I decided, right there in McDonald’s.

Mrs. Kaye and her husband took us back to the apartments. A woman from social services was there, asking the crippled lady questions. The crippled lady pointed to us when we got out of the car, then she came all the way across the parking lot with the social worker, which was some trouble with her two canes. She looked at me for the first time, and she smiled, and put a hand on Opal’s head. Opal was crying and hanging on to me, because she was afraid to go back into the apartment. She thought Uncle Len was still inside our place, probably. The social worker didn’t want us to go in, anyway, because
things were a mess in there,
she said, which was why the police had it taped off. I told her we couldn’t leave until Rusty came home, because he’d be scared to death, and he wouldn’t know where to find us.

“It’s all right,” the crippled lady told me, drying the tears off Opal’s cheek. “Y’all come on into my place. We’ll watch for him, and I’ll make everyone some coffee.”

I looked at Mrs. Kaye, and she agreed it’d be all right, and we all went inside. The social worker asked me to sit down at the table with her, so I did. Opal stayed in my lap, Mrs. Kaye and her husband sat on the sofa, and the lady made coffee. Her apartment was lots nicer than ours. Everything was clean, and she had pretty curtains on the window. The pretty curtains didn’t make me feel much better. I was scared about what was going to happen next, and I looked over at Mrs. Kaye.

“It’s all right. We’re not going anywhere,” she promised, and I was glad she did.

The social worker told me we didn’t need to worry about Uncle Len—Leonard Lee Cole, she called him—because the police had just picked him up. They didn’t have any trouble because he was asleep in his truck outside Glitters, and before he knew what was going on, he was face-to-face with five police officers, a dog, and a pair of hand-cuffs with his name on them. Kiki was in the hospital, in pretty bad shape, but it wasn’t life-threatening. “So there’s nothing for you to be afraid of here,” she finished. “We’re just going to talk for a while. I don’t want you to feel that you need to protect anyone, all right?”

“Okay,” I said.

She asked questions for a long time about Rusty and me, and how we’d ended up here. When I talked, she nodded and wrote things in her notepad, looking sad, like she’d heard it all before. She had mouse-brown hair with a few gray strands in it, tied up in a sloppy ponytail. She was wearing a wrinkled sweater, jeans that looked like they came off some eighties TV show, and socks that didn’t match. Her shoulders were round, like she spent all her time bent over her pad, writing terrible stuff in people’s files. I was afraid the sad look meant they were gonna haul me and Rusty away and separate us, so I asked. She stopped writing, leaned across the table, and held my hand. “We’re going to do everything we can to take care of you and your brother,” she promised, but when you don’t know somebody, you don’t know how good their promises are.

“I don’t think Rusty’d want to have, like, foster parents and stuff,” I said, because I pretty much knew how he’d take all of this. “Not after living on our own so long, I mean. We been gonna try to find Rusty’s real dad, but we hadn’t had much luck.” The lady asked me for Ray John’s name, and I gave it to her, and she wrote it on her pad.

“We have some options,” the lady said, and then she told me about a new place where brother and sister groups like me and Rusty could live in a little apartment, and we’d still be a family, but we’d have adults and a caseworker to help us out. Rusty could finish school instead of working all the time. “You wouldn’t have foster parents, exactly.” She pushed a flyaway hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear, then smiled at me. “But there are house parents in the building, and we try to match each family group with a sponsor to help you with decisions, and financial planning, doctors’ appointments, school enrollment, and other things that may be a little harder to navigate without some grown-up assistance.”

Mrs. Kaye piped up and said she’d be our sponsor. She glanced over at her husband, and he nodded, and said, “Of course we can do that. Whatever’s needed. But if the kids need a place to stay—”

The social worker held up a hand and said, “Let’s just take it one step at a time.”

I got a good feeling all of a sudden. I thought maybe Rusty’d even be able to play basketball or baseball again, and maybe he’d get a scholarship after all. He wouldn’t have to work so hard, trying to pay so many bills.

Opal burrowed under my neck, falling asleep, and the good feeling left me. As soon as she was out cold, I pulled up her hair and showed the burns. “Opal’s mama knew about it,” I told her, and even with everything Kiki’d done, I felt bad. I remembered how even after Kiki was gone with Uncle Len for so long, Opal wanted to be with her the minute she came back. I guess, no matter what, it’s just natural to love your mama. “She left Opal here for a couple weeks to go off with her boyfriend, but then she came back. He beat her up again and she was kind of out of it, messed up on something. The guy showed up in the middle of the night and started banging on the door, trying to get to her and Opal.”

“Who took care of Opal while the mother was gone?” The social worker looked up at me over the rim of her glasses. They were bent so her eyes seemed uneven.

“I did.”

“Was the mother aware there wasn’t an adult living in the apartment?”

“She knew who was here.”

“I see.”

The questions seemed to run out then. We sat for a while, and she wrote on her pad.

“When that guy showed up last night, she gave me her shoes so I could run away with Opal. She kept him busy so we could get out the door.” I wasn’t sure why I wanted them to know that. Maybe because Kiki was in a hospital bed somewhere.

“Who did?” The social worker looked at the shoes, Kiki’s purple-and-gold glittery hightops, still on my feet.

“Kiki did. So, she must’ve cared some. She’s just too messed up to be somebody’s mama.”

The lady nodded and wrote a few more lines—about the shoes, I guess. I wondered if that would make any difference in what happened to Kiki and whether she got Opal back. Maybe I shouldn’t of said anything.

“Rusty and me can take care of Opal,” I told the lady. “When we get one of those apartments like you talked about.” I held on to Opal tight.

“One thing at a time, all right?” The lady smiled at me again. “Don’t worry.”

“What’s gonna happen to Kiki?” I was scared to ask, but I was scared not to know, too.

The social worker seemed to think about whether to give me a real answer, or just one that sounded good.

“I can handle the truth. I’m not a little kid,” I told her, and she actually laughed a little.

“I can see that,” she said. “To be honest with you, Kiki is in a lot of trouble. She’s been on parole for a meth conviction. She’s missed several appointments with her parole officer, and one of the conditions of her release was no further involvement with former associates.”

I didn’t know why she was trying to put it so nice. “You mean she wasn’t supposed to be with anyone she’d do drugs with.” I figured we might as well say it plain, since it was Opal’s life we were talking about here. She needed to get away from Kiki for good. “Will Kiki go back to jail?”

The lady tapped her pencil on the table, watching the eraser bounce off the wood. “Yes. I’m afraid she will.”

“For a long time?”

“Yes.”

“Rusty and me can take care of Opal,” I said again. “We’re like a family now. She’s scared of people she doesn’t know.”

“One step at a time.” I wished she’d stop using that line on me. That’s what adults say when they don’t want to give you a straight answer. “Right now we’re talking about what happened last night.”

“Opal doesn’t take up much space.” I could feel the panic growing in me. I pictured how scared she would be if they took her off somewhere and gave her to strangers. What if somebody hurt her again? “Even if the apartment’s small, it’d be enough for us. She doesn’t have much stuff, either, and—”

The lady held up her palm, then laid her hand over mine. “Let’s just stay calm, all right? The biggest thing you can do to help right now is to give me all the facts. We’ll make sure Opal is taken care of.”

“
We’ll
make sure Opal is taken care of,” Mrs. Kaye said, breaking into the conversation, and I was glad she was there and on my side. “We want to do anything we can to help these kids. Whatever’s needed.” Both the social worker and me turned to her, but Mrs. Kaye was only looking at me. “Whatever it takes,” she said, and I knew she meant it. No matter what came after this, she’d be there. Being as she was a grown-up, and her husband was a doctor, and they were rich, I figured the social worker would have to listen to them, and I felt a little better.

Outside, Rusty’s truck rumbled up. I pictured how he’d look when he got out. He’d be dirty and bone tired, his hands black from loading shingles all night, his eyelids so heavy he’d sit down and fall right asleep. He’d be scared to death when he saw the police tape.

I thought about how he used to come up Mama’s steps two at a time, whistling some tune he’d heard on the radio, his basketball under one arm and his backpack in the other. Mama didn’t want him to be worn out and weighed down with worry. She wanted a good life for both of us. She wouldn’t of liked the way we were now.

The crippled lady went to the door and called to Rusty before he could get up our apartment steps. “They’re over here,” she said, and Rusty came to the door looking like he was about to have a coronary.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “Some stuff happened last night, but we’re all right.”

Everyone got up to meet Rusty when he came in the door. I just sat there looking through the opening, far into the distance, where the new day was burning off the last of the clouds and leaving behind patches of blue.

In a little while, there would be more blue than anything else.

I held Opal under my chin and went off to a mind place while the adults started telling Rusty everything that’d happened.

I thought about Wildfire—how the girl ran off in the blizzard calling for her pony until, as far as everyone knew, she died in the storm, running after what was lost.

All of a sudden, I knew for sure it didn’t happen that way. She didn’t die. Just when she couldn’t go any farther, when the cold and the wind got all the way into her bones, she saw a light off in the distance, through the snow and the dark. She finally understood that sometimes, when you’re too far away from your old place to get back to it, you have to head for a new place. She ran toward the light, and she found a home that was warm, and dry, and safe. All she had to do was reach out and open the door. When she did, just before she stepped into the light, she caught her breath and looked back over her shoulder. She knew Wildfire hadn’t run away, after all. He was running to something. Behind her, in what she thought was only wilderness, there was the path he’d followed. Even though she couldn’t have seen it through the storm, even though she never knew it was there, she’d been on that path every step she took.