A Not-So-Simple Life (17 page)

It’s gone from bad to worse…and why am I surprised? It started with Shannon’s pain pills. She ran out way too soon. That’s when Lynnette stepped in. And when I checked out. I’d been getting jobs the past week, and I’d put my first good-sized check into my own checking and savings account. An
account I opened at a completely different bank. An account that I will protect from Shannon. Especially now, since I can see where she is heading.

Take last night, for instance. Despite the fact that Shannon is still on crutches, she and Lynnette went out partying. And Shannon drove—cast and all. As it turned out, they were stopped by the police on their way home. Naturally, Shannon was arrested for DUI and was treated to a free night in jail. Her car was impounded, and somehow—I still don’t know how and don’t want to know—Lynnette scraped together enough money to bail Shannon out this afternoon. Of course they both called me, begging for financial help. I declined. As of today, I am not speaking to either of them. And I have threatened to call my dad, but he’s performing in Jamaica at the moment, and I know it would be a major inconvenience to have to come here.

I’ve decided that Lynnette is a parasite. Or worse. Besides leading Shannon back into the bar world, she might be bringing drugs into this house. Okay, I suppose it’s possible I’m just extremely paranoid, but I don’t think so. Mostly I keep to myself and hope that I can get enough money to make my exit in a couple of months. Ms. Montgomery said that things are starting to pick up again and that spring is usually a busy time for models. I can only hope.

The situation has become desperate. I came home from a photo shoot late this afternoon to find that Shannon and Lynnette are having a party tonight. A party?! Shannon is barely out of jail, her car is still impounded, and she’s been too broke to buy groceries this week. I actually loaned her forty bucks for food yesterday.

“How can you afford a party?” I asked when I found the two in the kitchen with not only a bunch of junky-looking food but booze as well. And although it looked like a pile of crap, I could tell it was expensive.

Shannon just smiled mysteriously.

“Big Daddy,” said Lynnette. Then Shannon gave her a sharp elbow.

“My dad sent money? Some of that is for me, you know!”

“Don’t worry,” said Shannon.

“Yes, it takes money to make money,” added Lynnette.

“What?”

But Shannon shushed her, and feeling like I wanted to hit someone or maybe two someones, I just took off. I went to my room and gathered up my things and considered running away. But where? I have a photo shoot tomorrow at one, and I can’t risk missing it. Especially if things continue to spiral downward on the home front.

Finally I decided just to sneak my stuff as well as some provisions up to the attic. At least I won’t be stuck downstairs
if the party gets really out of hand, which I’m guessing could happen. And somehow I will make a plan to get out of here by next week. Maybe Myrna would like to adopt me for a couple of months.

News flash: Shannon Stark’s party has been busted! Okay, I keep telling myself that I should be partially relieved since this will absolutely put a stop to the craziness. But it’s just been so weird. And I have to admit…scary.

Naturally, I started to freak when I saw flashing lights below. I actually thought maybe the house was on fire. Then I looked out the window to see five or six cop cars pulling into the driveway. And I thought maybe this would teach Shannon a lesson.

But when the police entered the house, it got really loud down there—everyone was screaming and running, like it was a real raid. And I could hear the cops yelling and telling everyone to get down on the ground and stuff like that. I was hoping no one would start shooting.

Consequently, I remained up here the whole time. I felt like a mouse in the attic, just waiting until it all settled down. I quietly positioned myself by the window so I could see when the cops left, waiting for the coast to clear. But that didn’t happen right away. After the initial bust, things quieted
down. Then it got noisy again with doors opening and closing, like someone was going through every closet and cabinet and whatever. The cops were probably doing a very thorough search of our house. And who knew what they might have found.

Thankfully they didn’t come up to the attic. But it was really unnerving. And I was tempted to call my dad and beg him to send someone out to get me. However, he’s just started his European tour, and he’s going to be hard to reach for a while. Besides, I kept telling myself that I could deal with this.

Finally it’s around three in the morning, and most of the partiers have either left the house or been taken away in cop cars. Now there are only three cars left, and I think the “party” is almost over. But then Shannon is escorted out the front door by a woman cop. Shannon still has on her short denim skirt and a pink tank top, only now her outfit is accented with a pair of handcuffs. The cop helps my mom into the back of a patrol car, then slams the door.

I know it makes no sense, but I feel really sad, and my hands begin to shake. I pick up my cell phone, thinking I will call someone, but who? Earlier tonight when I was feeling frustrated and lonely, I actually e-mailed my cousin Kim and confessed all, although I’m sort of regretting that. But there is no way I’m calling her now. Not at this time of night. Also,
I notice that my cell phone battery is almost dead, and I didn’t bring the charger. So I just wait. I wait and feel freaked. I try not to think about what I’m going to do. Where I’ll go if Shannon is in any kind of serious trouble. And for all I know, she could be. I do know this: I don’t have any bail money.

Not too long after Shannon’s escorted out of the house, the other cops get into their cars, taking various other guests from the party along with them—not anyone I recognize, not that I expected to. I haven’t seen Lynnette exiting yet, and I wonder if she made a fast break earlier.

At last the house becomes very quiet. Still, I’m not sure I want to go down there, not until daylight anyway. I try to sleep, but it’s like the adrenaline keeps rushing through me. My hands are shaking so badly that I almost wonder if Shannon hid some of her stupid amphetamines or something in my water bottle.

Okay, I know that’s ridiculous, but it’s like I can’t stop shaking. I feel like I’m having a meltdown. And it’s impossible to sleep. Finally the sun comes up, and I think it should be safe to leave. So I pack up my stuff and am about to go down when I hear someone in the house!

I look out to see if there’s a car but don’t see one. Still, someone is definitely in the house. And they are definitely searching for something. It can’t be anything good. And I don’t think it’s the police. So who does that leave? Some
whacked-out crackhead with a gun? Okay, now I am totally freaked, and my brain is fried from all this stress. So I just stay in the attic, getting a serious case of claustrophobia—it feels like I can’t breathe. I’m afraid to move, and I can’t open the window. I think I’m going to die.

T
he past two days have been a blur…surreal. My cousin Kim not only e-mailed me back on that horrid night, telling me to get out of that house, which I eventually did, but my uncle decided I should come out and spend some time with them. I didn’t argue.

And yesterday I got on a flight (which Uncle Allen paid for), and he and Kim picked me up at the airport. I’m sure they expected more gratitude from me, but the truth is, I feel dead inside. It’s like something in me is broken, and I don’t think it’s ever going to be fixed.

Kim showed me to the guest room. I only brought one bag, the same backpack that I threw things into on Friday night. I was too rattled and scared when I finally made my break out of the house midday Saturday. I wasn’t even sure if I was going to make it. It seemed that people had been coming and going all morning. Strangers, I think. Then the police. And finally Lynnette was down there yelling for me. I never answered. I don’t even know why. Except that I wanted
out of there. For good. Naturally, I missed my photo shoot. My modeling career is over now. I do not care.

After settling into “my” room, I slept the rest of the day. And when I spoke with Kim that evening, I didn’t say much. I know she thinks I’m a snob or a brat or just a pathetic loser whose parents should never have been allowed to have kids.

“I spoke to your dad’s manager,” my uncle informed me last night. “Your dad should be calling you tomorrow around ten. I told him it was fine to call on the house phone.”

And my dad does call this morning. I am the only one home at the time. Kim had school. My uncle had work. It is a relief to be able to speak candidly, which I do. I pour out the whole ugly story.

“But you’re okay?” my dad finally asks.

“Yeah. I’m great.”

“You don’t sound great.”

I know I’ve been speaking in a monotone. But what do people expect? I wonder if this is sort of how a soldier feels after coming home from war. Shell shock? Is that what they call it?

“What do you want me to do, Maya?”

I consider this. But I can’t tell him my true answer. I can’t say, “I want you to come home and act like you’re my dad. I want you to take care of me. I want you to love me and get
us a home where we can live like normal people. Like Kim and her dad.” Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen. “I don’t know,” I finally mutter.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about your emancipation idea,” he says. “And I’m willing to sign off for you.”

Now I know this should make me glad. It’s what I wanted. But instead, I feel a hard lump in my throat.

“And Shannon will have no choice but to sign off for you, Maya.”

“Right…”

“And I want to replace what she stole from you, and more. If you’ll give me your account number, I’ll have Thomas set that up. And I’ll have him do a direct deposit into your account each month so you’ll have your own money to live on. I should’ve done that a long time ago. Sorry.”

I let out a long sigh. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to be okay, baby?”

“I’m fine.” I feel tears slipping out now.

“I talked to Allen. He seems like a really nice guy. And his daughter sounds like she has a good head on her shoulders too. I think you’re in good hands.”

“Yeah.”

“And I’ll be back in the States the end of May. Maybe we can figure something out then, something more permanent.”

“Right…”

“In the meantime you can e-mail me. It’s hard catching calls over here with the time difference and all.”

I don’t point out that he hardly ever checks his e-mail. Why bother?

“You’re a survivor, Maya,” he says in his you-can-do-anything voice. “You’re going to come out on top, baby. I just know it.”

We say a few more things. Or he says a few more things, finally promising to find out what’s going on with Shannon, when he has time, that is. And then we hang up, and I go back to the guest room and have a good, long cry.

“Why don’t you just stay here?” Kim said after she got home from school yesterday. I’d been telling her and my uncle that I needed to make a plan and that I needed to get out of here and get on with my life. But at that moment, I wasn’t sure if I could even get off their sofa without help. I felt paralyzed.

“And do what?” I frowned up at her. As usual, she looked like a fashion-conscious preppy—nice and neat with her sleek black hair cut into layers that frame her serious dark eyes and petite facial features. I think Kim is really pretty, and if she were about a foot taller, she could probably even model. Not that she would. She’s too smart to get caught up in something like that.

“Go to school. Make friends. Live your life.” She smiled with satisfaction, as if—just like that—she’d put my messed-up world into perfect order.

I just stared at her in disbelief. It was like someone from a different planet had said, “Hey, let’s fly on over to Jupiter and eat a live octopus for lunch.” I mean, I couldn’t even wrap my mind around it.

Kim sat down next to me and actually put a hand on my shoulder. And just that small act of kindness was enough to break me down. So I pulled away. But that didn’t stop her. “Look, Maya, I know you’ve been through a lot. Probably more than anyone realizes. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a normal life now…if you want one.”

“I don’t even know what normal is.” Of course, I didn’t admit to her that normal is what I’ve been wanting for ages now. Or that I’d given up on ever finding it for myself.

“Well, there probably is no real normal,” she said. “It’s more like an illusion. Or maybe it’s whatever you decide to make it. But I do believe you can have a life that’s different… healthier…than the one you’ve been living.”

“I don’t know…”

“Are you open to advice?”

I considered this, then shrugged.

“Why don’t you enroll at my high school? Just give it a try. There are only two months left in the school year, but it might be enough time for you to figure things out.”

“You want me to stick around for two months?” I studied her reaction closely. I mean, I know she’s a Christian…and I wondered if this was just some goody-goody-girl act. But I have to admit she seemed sincere.

“Two months will probably go by pretty quickly,” she said. “But you might discover that you like it here.”

I think I frowned then.

“Or you might not like it.” She grinned. “But at least you’d know.”

“That’s not it,” I admitted. “I don’t want to feel like you have to drag me around, like it’s your job to help me figure things out. And just for the record, I need you to understand that I’m a very independent person.”

She actually laughed then. “I already knew that.”

“Oh…”

“And just for the record, I’m a very busy person. So unless you specifically want me to help you with something, I’ll assume you can handle stuff yourself.”

“Thanks.”

“But if you’d like, I could give you a ride to school tomorrow. And I could point you in the direction of the office. But that would be it.”