Read Thirteenth Child Online

Authors: Karleen Bradford

Thirteenth Child (5 page)

“Of course not. Why should I be?”

“It’s just … you’re so pretty. I would’ve thought there’d be guys hanging around all the time.”

Yeah, sure, Kate thought. Five minutes with my dad and they’d be history. Then she realized what he’d said. Pretty? She felt the blood rush to her face. She grabbed up her towel, tossed her hair forward, and began to rub it vigorously. It was just a line, of course. He didn’t mean it—naturally, he didn’t. Pretty was the last thing she saw when she looked in the mirror. Still….

“What about you?” she stammered finally.

“What about me?” he answered.

“Well—where do you come from? Why did you leave? That sort of thing.” Do
you
have a girlfriend, her mind added silently.

Mike rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer.

“Come from a small town near Ottawa you’ve probably never even heard of,” he said finally. “My mom and I didn’t get along, school and I didn’t get along, and I’m old enough to quit if I want to, so I just left. That’s it. Pretty boring, eh?”

“That’s not escaping?” She couldn’t resist.

“Nope. Unfortunately not. I’m still here.”

His voice turned dull. A frown creased
between his eyes, and Kate was suddenly reminded of how he had looked when he had first slammed into the snack bar. She pushed that out of her mind. She didn’t want to think about that today.

“Wasn’t there anybody?” The question slipped out in spite of herself.

“There was a girl….”

Kate’s heart took a lurch. She looked away quickly and concentrated on picking at a fraying edge of the towel.

“A girl?” She really didn’t want to hear this, but couldn’t stop herself.

“Stacy.” His voice was so low she could hardly hear him, almost as if he had forgotten about her and was talking to himself. He rolled over and buried his face in his towel.

Kate dared a look at him. There was sand on his back, rough against the glistening wetness of his skin. She caught herself just before reaching over to brush it off.

“What about her?”

“Something happened ….” Mike suddenly seemed to realize what he was saying. He sat up so quickly Kate had to pull herself back. She’d been unconsciously leaning toward him.

“Hey. No big deal,” he said. “I brought some sandwiches too. Let’s eat.”

The frown was gone, the grin back. Put on like a mask, Kate couldn’t help thinking.

five

Barney was gassing up a Toyota when Kate got back. She waved to him, then went on into the snack bar. A few minutes later he followed her.

“I’m beat,” he announced. “Wiped out. Cars coming in and out all day.” Dramatically, he slid down behind the counter and stretched his long and lanky body out on the floor, back draped against the wall. The couple from the Toyota came in and stared at him curiously.

“The help has a case of terminal tired,” Kate said. “What can I get you?”

After they left, she paid Barney from the till. “You can quit now if you want,” she said. “I’ll take over.”

“Thanks, Kate.” He counted the money, folded it carefully, put it in his pocket, and gave the pocket a satisfied pat. “Getting there,” he said.

Kate turned on the water for the sink and squirted detergent in. When would they ever be able to afford a dishwasher? She was sweating again, and the day on the lake was already just a memory.

“That Honda,” Barney went on in a dreamy voice. “Can’t you just see me bootin’ to school on that?”

“ ‘Bootin’ to school’?” Kate fought down a smile. “Barney, how much time have you been spending around those bikers, anyway?”

“That sure would make people stand up and take notice, wouldn’t it? People like Melanie Davis?”

Melanie Davis again? He really was stuck on her. Irrationally, Kate felt a stab of annoyance. It was none of her business, but still…. It was so typical. Half the guys in the school followed Melanie around like puppy dogs. She thought Barney would have more sense.

“You’re aiming high.” In spite of herself, there was an edge of sarcasm to her words.

Barney didn’t seem to notice it. “You going to dream about something impossible, you might as well dream big,” he answered. The words were offhand—joking—but there was something about his face that looked serious.

Guys. Kate turned off the water with a vicious twist. Sheep, more like it. Even Barney.

“My mom shown up yet?” she asked.

“No. I haven’t seen her all day.”

“Not even this morning? Before she went out?”

“Nope. Far as I know, she didn’t ever go out.”

That was unusual. “What about my dad?”

“He left early. Hasn’t come back yet.” Barney’s voice was carefully controlled, but his face suddenly closed.

“Did he say anything to you?”

“Asked where you were. When I said you’d already gone he just sort of grunted at me and left. I don’t think he was in too good a mood.”

That’s probably the understatement of the year, Kate thought.

“Stay on just a couple of minutes more, will you, Barn? I’m going to go check and see where Mom is. She might have gone out and then come in the back way and you didn’t notice. She’s usually around here by now.” It wasn’t like Angie not to at least put in an appearance at the snack bar on a Saturday.

She found Angie upstairs, lying on her bed. Her face was turned to the wall and she was still in her nightgown. It looked as if she hadn’t been up all day.

“Mom?” Kate hesitated at her bedroom door. “Are you all right?”

“I’m not feeling too good. Just a little tired, I guess.” She didn’t turn to look at Kate.

“Mom!” This was definitely not usual. “Should I call a doctor?”

“No!” The response was sharp. “I’ll be all right, Kate. I just need to rest up. I’ll be better tomorrow—just leave me alone now, okay?” She waved a hand over her shoulder at Kate.

“Leave me
alone,
Kate,” she repeated, when Kate made no move to go.

Reluctantly, Kate closed the door and went back downstairs. For all her complaining, Angie was hardly ever sick, and when she was, she was usually off to a doctor at the first symptom.

“My mom’s upstairs,” Kate said to Barney as she pushed through the door into the snack bar.

He looked at her. There must have been something showing in her face.

“Is anything wrong?” he asked.

“No,” she answered, too quickly. “It’s all right.”

“If I can do anything …?”

“No,” she repeated. “It’s fine. Really.” Suddenly all she wanted was for him to leave, but as he turned to go, the door opened and his father pushed in.

“So! This is where you’ve been all day!”

Kate was startled by the anger in his voice. She knew Barney’s parents only slightly. His father was the kind of man who always seemed to be in too much of a hurry to speak to anyone. He had a consulting business that he ran out of his home, and seemed to spend a lot of his time in Toronto. He wasn’t really friendly with anyone in town. Barney’s mother was even more of a mystery. She dressed like someone out of
Vogue
magazine, and spent most of her time someplace else as well. She didn’t even shop in town—rumor had it she ordered most of their stuff by phone from the city.

They must be pretty rich, Kate thought. It hadn’t occurred to her before. Mr. Phillips drove a Thunderbird and Mrs. Phillips had a sports car. How come Barney couldn’t afford his motorcycle, then?

“You were supposed to spend the day studying, young man,” Mr. Phillips thundered. “It’s Saturday, remember? Why else did you quit working at that ridiculous supermarket job?”

“Quit?” Barney’s voice was bitter. “I didn’t exactly quit, did I?
You
called up the manager and told him I wouldn’t be coming in anymore.”

“That’s enough! Your marks drop—you work harder. It’s as simple as that. I told you I want you in your room studying every Saturday and Sunday until you pull them back up.”

“Dad—” Barney sounded desperate. “From a 95% to a 90% in English, that’s not such a big deal!”

“It is to me, young man. You want to get into a top university, you have to get top marks.” Mr. Phillips turned to glare at Kate. “Running around with local girls isn’t going to get you anywhere except into trouble.”

Kate felt heat blaze in her cheeks. “He was just working for the day—” she began.

“Which I expressly forbade.” He dismissed her with a contemptuous glance. “This is none of your business, anyway.”

“I beg your pardon!” Kate exploded, then she saw Barney’s face. He looked as if he wished he could die right on the spot. A wave of sympathy washed over her. She bit back the words she’d been about to hurl at his father.

“Thanks, Barney,” she said instead. “You really helped me out today.” She glared back at Mr. Phillips, then turned on her heel and slammed into their own kitchen.

As the door closed behind her, she grabbed her elbows and hugged her arms tightly to her. She was shaking with rage. How dare that man! Poor Barney—if that was what he had to put up with at home.

Her father came in even later than he had the evening before. Kate heard the pickup crunch over the gravel at the side of the station, then skid to a stop right below her window with a squeal of brakes. He came heavily up the stairs. She heard him stumble, then a loud curse. He went into the room he shared with her mother. An argument began—louder and angrier than usual. Suddenly Angie cried out. Kate could stand it no longer—she was sure she had heard a slap. Without thinking, she jumped up, ran out, and banged on the door of her parents’ room.

“Dad! Mom! What’s going on in there?”

Their door was wrenched open and her father stood framed in the light from a single bedlamp. Kate quailed. He looked furious—out of control.

“Get out of here!” he shouted, the words slurring together. “This is none of your business!”

“Dad! What are you doing?” Kate looked past him, horrified, to her mother. Angie was lying on the floor, curled up into a ball. As Kate watched, however, she put one hand on the bed for support and pulled herself up onto it.

“I fell, Kate. I tripped and fell. Now do as your dad says. Get out of here. He’s upset—you’re only making things worse.”

“Mom! I can’t leave you….”

“You heard her, get out!” Steve roared. “Get back to your own room and don’t meddle in things that don’t concern you.”

“My mother concerns me,” Kate began hotly, then cringed back in spite of herself as her father lifted one raised fist. He took the opportunity to slam the door. Kate heard the lock click.

“Mom!” She pounded on the door.

“It’s all right now, Kate. Just go away and everything will be all right.” Angie’s voice was desperate.

Kate sank down to the floor outside the door. She pressed her ear to the peeling, paint-covered wood.

“You never let me forget, do you?” she heard Steve rant.

“No, Steve, I didn’t mean….”

“Whining all the time…. Blaming me….”

“I never blamed you, Steve. I didn’t! You know that.”

“You blame me every time you look at me. Think I don’t know? Think I can’t tell?” “You’re imagining—”

Kate’s mouth was dry. She tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Her heart seemed to be trying to tear itself out of her chest. The same old argument. The same old words. Would it never end?

“Go ahead. You’re right. I am a failure. I ruined everything for all of us. Go ahead, say it. Everybody else does.
Say it!”

Angie answered, something too low for Kate to hear. It sounded placating. Comforting.
She
was comforting
him?

Gradually, both voices ceased. Gradually, the room behind the door became silent. Kate huddled outside it. She didn’t seem to be able to move. When the first rays of dawn began to streak through the hall window, she was still there, cramped with pain.

Mike turned up the next morning carrying a billboard. Kate was tending the snack bar. Her father had stormed through the kitchen earlier on, then headed for the room above the garage. Kate hadn’t spoken to him, didn’t even care what he was doing there. She knocked on her parents’ bedroom door as soon as he was safely out of the way, but Angie just called that she would be out later. Kate didn’t know what to do. At least her mom sounded all right.

“I got an idea, Kate. What do you think of this?”

Kate looked up without interest. The big, square billboard stood propped up by a back-piece. It was white, and painted on it in black were two smiling worms. They were standing happily up on their tails, mortarboards with dangling tassels perched rakishly on their heads.

EDUCATED WORMS!

the sign proclaimed in huge letters.

G
UARANTEED GRADUATES
OF THE MOST ADVANCED—
THE
ONLY
—WRIGGLE SCHOOL AROUND!

“Thought we should add some class to the business,” Mike said. Kate didn’t answer.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she muttered. Her head was pounding and she felt sick.

“You sure?” He took a closer look at her. “You look terrible.”

So much for pretty. “I didn’t sleep too well.”

A car pulled in front of the pumps and honked impatiently. Kate grabbed up a dish-towel to dry her hands and started out.

“Where’s your dad? Isn’t he here today?”

“He’s…. He’s busy.” Her eyes strayed to the garage. Mike’s followed. He frowned.

“Got the day off today, I’ll do the pumps for you,” he said.

“There’s no need,” Kate began, but at that moment two men came in.

“Anybody pumping gas?” one asked.

“Any coffee around?” the other one put in.

Kate looked at Mike, then gave a shrug of resignation and nodded. “Okay, go ahead. Thanks.”

“Be right with you,” Mike said. He shouldered his sign and headed for the door. The first man followed him out.

“Need any worms?” Kate heard Mike ask. “We got the best around.” He placed the sign where people driving by could see it. The man looked at it and shouted with laughter.

“Hey, Mack!” he called back. “Get a couple tubs of them worms, will you? Let’s see we can’t outsmart the fish today!” He went on out to his battered, ancient Plymouth, still chortling. Mike made a thumbs-up sign behind his back to Kate.

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