Catching Fireflies (32 page)

She gazed out over the crowd. “Oh, I hear some of you saying you didn’t put up those posts or that your children would never do such a thing, but do you know for a fact that they didn’t? Do you monitor what they do online? I’ll wager you don’t. Far too few parents do. And unless you happen to be one of those few who does, then you’re responsible. You!” she said sternly, looking from face to face in the increasingly silent crowd. “You let this happen. You can fix it.”

Once more, she seemed to be looking every individual in the audience straight in the eye as she added fiercely, “And I expect you to do it.”

With that, she turned and walked back to her seat and sat down heavily. It took a moment, and then thunderous applause broke out.

J.C. leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You’ve given me a tough act to follow.”

She gave him a shaky smile. “Oh, I think you’ve got what it takes.”

Laura gave his hand a squeeze. “I know you do.”

J.C. approached the podium with trepidation. He began by talking about the kind of incidents he and Bill saw in their practice, the evidence of the toll bullying took on even the youngest children.

“We all act as if it’s no big deal at that age, that kids need to toughen up. I was told that just this week by a parent. Well, here’s the way I see it.”

He drew in a deep breath, cast a quick glance at Laura, then said, his voice wavering despite his best attempt to control it, “Bullying cost my little brother his life.”

Blinking back tears, he continued, “Stevie was a great kid. He was slower than other kids. He struggled in school, though it took years to figure out exactly why. His classmates were calling him a dummy by first grade. They never chose him for their teams at recess. He wanted so badly to be liked, to be normal, just like everyone else. He had a smile that could light up the world, but, day by day, year by year, that smile faded and the light in his eyes died.”

He let that sink in, then said, “When I realized what was happening, I did everything I could to protect him. I had more bloody noses and black eyes than any kid in school. My parents and teachers thought I was a troublemaker because I never told what was going on. Neither did Stevie. For a while things even got better.”

He paused. “And then I went to high school, leaving my kid brother on his own back in middle school, struggling to fit in, being beaten down emotionally a little more each day.” He heard the collective indrawn breath of the crowd and let the silence go on before adding, “Until he couldn’t take it anymore. Stevie hanged himself after school one day. He was thirteen years old.” J.C.’s voice broke. “Thirteen. Look around you at the children you know who are just barely starting adolescence. Try to imagine the amount of pain a child that age must have been in to take his own life.”

Like Frances, he tried to look every single person in the crowd directly in the eyes. “Thirteen,” he said again at last. “The kids in Serenity deserve more from us.”

Even through his own tears, he saw tissues come out of purses as he spoke. As he walked back to his seat, Laura was on her feet, enveloping him in a hug. Misty joined her.

“I knew,” Misty whispered, tears streaming down her face. “You didn’t say all that, but I knew the story didn’t have a happy ending.”

“No, it didn’t,” J.C. said, then gave her a hug. “But this one will. No matter what I have to do to see to it, Misty, this one will.”

* * *

Laura was devastated by J.C.’s revelation. No wonder he’d taken what was happening to Misty so seriously. He’d lived the horror of bullying and seen just how tragically it could end.

What she couldn’t understand was why he hadn’t told her sooner. Just when she thought they were close, when she’d convinced herself they had a real shot at the future, she realized he was holding yet another part of himself back.

This wasn’t the time for thinking about any of that, though. Bill Townsend was speaking now, adding a voice for even the youngest children who were victimized on playgrounds or in classrooms. He’d be followed by Helen and Chief Rollins. Then it would be Laura and Betty’s turn to explain how the school intended to handle not just this incident, but any further bullying incidents.

Each of them kept their remarks short and to the point. As Misty’s turn to wrap up the event came closer, Laura kept a careful eye on her. She seemed to have drawn some kind of strength from listening to J.C. There was a determined set to her jaw and a spark in her eyes that had been missing when she’d first arrived at the town green.

Since Laura was to introduce her as she wound up her own remarks, she turned to Misty before she rose. “You ready to do this?”

Misty nodded. “I can do it.”

“Of course you can,” Katie said loyally.

Laura said a few words, then expressed her pride in Misty’s willingness to come forward and talk about what had happened to her and how it had affected the way she looked at herself, at the town and the future.

No sooner had she finished her introduction than she noticed a restlessness on the fringes of the crowd. She realized then that many of the students from the high school had gathered back there, united for reasons she feared might not be good.

Anticipating a problem, she lingered by the podium next to Misty and Katie, drawing a concerned look from J.C. She gave him a faint nod toward the edge of the green. Obviously picking up on her warning, he slipped over and spoke quietly to Carter Rollins, who immediately left the stage.

Misty had barely opened her mouth to speak, her voice quavery but determined, when the first jeer rang out. “Hey, girl, is this you? Can you do me like that?”

A picture was waved in the air, a grainy, but devastatingly recognizable blowup apparently of one of the doctored photos that had made its way online the night before.

Misty’s voice faltered as people looked around.

“Whoa, girl! Who knew little Goody Two-shoes looked like that with her clothes off?”

At the second shout, Carter’s men moved in and started taking teens into custody. The entire crowd erupted with cries, some directed against the teens, some against the interfering police officers.

Misty’s face had turned beet-red. Tears welled up in her eyes as she fled the stage.

“Go after her,” J.C. shouted at Laura. “I’m going to help Carter round up those jerks.”

Laura found Misty sobbing in the alley behind the radio station, Katie at her side. Sarah McDonald reached them before Laura did and pulled Misty into her arms. “Don’t you shed one single tear over those idiots,” she soothed. “Not one single tear.”

“But now everyone’s seen the pictures. Even my mom and dad. They were there in the front, but they still saw them. They must think I’m awful.”

“Your parents will never for a second believe those pictures are real,” Laura consoled her. She glanced at Sarah. “Will you stay with them? I’ll go look for Diana and Les.”

“No,” Misty pleaded. “I don’t want to see them.”

“You need to see them, and they need to be with you. They must be worried sick about you right now.”

“We’ll be inside the station,” Sarah said, looking to Misty for agreement. “You’ll be safe in there. We can keep the doors locked, check before we let anyone inside.”

Misty sniffed and nodded agreement.

Laura took off in search of the Dawsons. She found them by the stage looking frantic. Les looked as if he wanted to break a few bones. Only Diana’s command that he stay focused on Misty seemed to be keeping him calm.

“Where is she?” Diana demanded when Laura approached. “Did you find her?”

“She’s at the radio station. Sarah took her and Katie inside.”

“Thank God,” Diana murmured. “Les, are you coming?”

He looked toward the commotion still going on across the green. “I’d rather…”

“Beating some kid to a pulp might give you temporary satisfaction,” Diana said. “I wouldn’t mind throwing a punch or two myself, but Misty needs us.” She latched on to his arm and shook it. “Did you hear me? Our daughter needs us.”

Les sighed. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Laura let them head over to the radio station on their own, then found Helen in the crowd.

“How much worse can this get?” she asked the attorney.

“A whole lot worse before I’m done,” Helen said grimly. “Thanks to Kyle Townsend, I have a pretty good idea of who was behind those latest pictures. Carter’s going to follow up and, if I’m right, suspension from school will be the least of what happens to some of these kids. I’m taking a whole slew of them to court. Apparently Annabelle was just the instigator. There were a few kids just waiting in the wings to escalate this.”

She gave Laura a weary look. “It’s going to get uglier before it gets better. Do you think Misty will be able to handle that?”

Laura thought of the shaken, sobbing girl she’d left with Sarah and wondered about that. “I honestly don’t know,” she said. “How much can a girl her age handle before it breaks her?”

“I’m almost ready to suggest to the Dawsons that they let her transfer to a school somewhere else,” Helen said. “I’d pay for it myself just to get her away from this. At the same time, I hate for Misty to feel like she has to leave her home because of what someone else has done.”

“Unfortunately, I think maybe at this point, she’d be eager to go,” Laura said. “But I agree with you, it would be a crying shame. Is it too late to push to have Annabelle transferred out of this school system?”

Helen nodded. “More than likely. I’m not saying that shouldn’t happen. It probably should. I just don’t think that’s going to fix things. Too many other kids will be right here unless I can manage to make examples of all of them. At this rate, half the senior class should probably go.”

“That would certainly cause an uproar,” Laura said, trying to imagine it.

Helen nodded. “Something tells me an uproar is what it’s going to take to turn this around.”

“Is there anything you need me to do right now?”

Helen shook her head. “I’m heading over to the police station next.”

Laura nodded. “I’ll check on Misty. If you run into J.C., tell him I should be home in another hour or so.”

Helen hesitated. “Did you know what he was going to say today?”

“Not a clue,” Laura admitted. “My heart ached for him when I heard what happened to his brother.”

“That’s a heavy load of guilt for anyone to carry all these years,” Helen said.

Laura was startled by her assessment. “Guilt? J.C. didn’t do anything wrong. He tried to help.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Helen said. “Whatever he did wasn’t enough, and I know how men’s minds work. The guilt of not doing enough can eat away at them for years to come.”

“Voice of experience?” Laura asked.

Helen nodded. “Erik had his share of baggage when we met. It still surfaces from time to time. Keep an eye on J.C. Something tells me he’ll need you today more than he’ll ever admit.”

Laura watched her go, her thoughts in turmoil. She’d felt sick for J.C. as he’d spoken, but not once had she imagined him blaming himself for his brother’s death. Of course he did, though. Anyone who cared as deeply as he did would take something like that totally to heart. Even more than his wife’s betrayal,
this
is what had shaped the man he’d become, the direction his life had taken. She even wondered if he’d become a pediatrician simply to be a first line of defense against signs of bullying.

What she didn’t know was how she’d ever convince him that the guilt shouldn’t be his burden.

20

T
he police station was chaotic. J.C. tried to stay out of the way, but he had no intention of leaving until he was sure the hooligans who’d taunted Misty were, if not behind bars, at least charged with disturbing the peace or whatever else Carter could think of to throw at them. He imagined Helen had a few ideas along that line she was eager to share. He’d never seen her looking more ferocious as she huddled with the police chief.

Eventually she headed his way.

“You okay?” she asked him. “I know what you said today couldn’t have been easy, but I think it had an impact, J.C. I really do. I saw the shock on people’s faces when they realized the sort of consequences this behavior can have. There’s a tendency to dismiss it as childish mischief, but we both know it’s a lot more than that.”

“Obviously it didn’t faze those boys,” he said ruefully.

“Because they’re young and stupid,” Helen said succinctly. “Just wait till Greg Bennett and his cronies figure out they’re about to be suspended from the football team for the rest of the season over this. Betty can hardly wait until Monday morning to haul them into her office for that announcement. Amazingly, the coach is backing her up a hundred percent. I knew Cal would have, but the football coach is usually a lot more focused on winning than he is on what’s right.”

“Some things are more important than a winning season,” J.C. said grimly.

“Unfortunately, not being able to play is likely to kill Greg’s chances for a college scholarship,” Helen said. “I have little to no sympathy for the boy, but that’s going to be tough for his folks to accept. They were so proud that he’d be their first to get into college.”

“What’s next?” J.C. asked. “Is there anything I can do here?”

Helen shook her head. “Carter has things under control and the prosecutor will be here shortly to do all the official paperwork and determine the charges. I’ll also be conferring with him about bringing criminal charges against the person who posted the latest pictures online. I’ll be in court first thing Monday to file a civil case, as well.”

“Do you know who did it?” J.C. asked. “You’re a hundred percent sure?”

Helen nodded. “It was Greg. It was his way of standing up for Annabelle, if you can believe that. He thought it might take the heat off of her. I’m not entirely convinced that Annabelle herself didn’t put him up to it. That is one twisted relationship. If I were Mariah, I’d get those two as far apart as possible.”

“Do you think the Litchfields will transfer Annabelle to another school after this?”

Helen nodded. “I don’t think they’re going to have a choice. Betty and Hamilton Reynolds were talking about a formal expulsion hearing earlier. The school board will hold an emergency meeting on Monday.”