Crimes of the Sarahs (28 page)

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Authors: Kristen Tracy

BOOK: Crimes of the Sarahs
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“You were freaking out,” Sarah C says.

“I need some lip balm,” Sarah A says.

“You said something was going on at Yankee Springs,” Sarah B adds.

“Something is totally going on at Yankee Springs,” Sarah A says.

I pull the car to a stop in front of a metal cage where people can refill small propane tanks.

“Oh, it smells awful,” Sarah A says.

“It smells like propane,” I say.

“No, it smells like poor people camping,” Sarah A says. “Do you want anything?”

Because I don’t know if she’s going to be buying what I want or stealing it, I say no. I watch Sarah A practically leap out of the car.

“She looks like she’s going mad,” Sarah C says. “Is it safe to leave Sarah B with her for the night?”

I look in the rearview mirror.

“Sarah B is scrappy,” I say.

“I don’t want to have to fight anybody,” Sarah B says.

“I think we’re jumping to conclusions. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation to everything,” I say.

“Wow, and I thought I was the group Pollyanna,” Sarah C says.

“Can we listen to the radio?” Sarah B asks. “There’s some pregame commentary I’d like to catch.”

“Pick your station,” I tell her.

I tune out what the commentators are saying. Baseball doesn’t hold much interest for me. Sarah A rushes out of the gas station with a large fountain drink. She gets back in the car and presses the cup to her forehead.

“Besides the heat,” I say, “what’s going on?”

“I can hardly hear you,” Sarah A says, turning off the radio.

“Sarah B was listening to that,” I say.

“What is it with you and the Tigers?” Sarah A says. “Everybody knows Detroit sucks. As a team. As a city. As an idea. It’s basically a fact that Detroit is our nation’s anus.”

“I wouldn’t call that a fact,” Sarah C says. “And I definitely wouldn’t call it an anus.”

“Yeah,” Sarah B says.

“I’ve only been there a few times, but it never struck me as an anus,” I say. “The mall in Novi is cool.”

“If our country has an anus, it’s probably in Cleveland,” Sarah C says.

“I like Cleveland,” Sarah B says.

“I don’t even want to think of our country as having an anus,” I say.

“Everything has an asshole,” Sarah A says, taking a big suck of her drink. “Everything.”

“Especially you,” Sarah C says. But she murmurs it so quietly that I think I’m the only one who hears her.

I’m tempted to turn the radio back on, but I don’t. It seems like a better idea to let the whole Detroit/anus debate blow over.

“Whatever,” Sarah C says. “So what’s going on at Yankee Springs?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” Sarah A says. “Last week, they held a retreat there for University of Michigan professors.”

“That’s shocking,” Sarah C says, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

“This could be our ticket to college. To Michigan!” Sarah A says.

“I thought our tickets into college were our SAT scores, GPA’s, application essays, and all that free money from the Kalamazoo Promise,” I say.

“The woman staying in the cabin next to me is Gail Boatwright,” Sarah A says. “She’s a straggler. She stayed after the retreat wrapped up. She’s on the entrance committee. She screens the applications. She reads the essays.”

“So you think we should suck up to her?” Sarah C asks. “I’m down with that.”

“We don’t even need to suck up to her,” Sarah A says. “I have a better plan.”

I’m almost back to Yankee Springs, but Sarah A seems impatient.

“Can’t you drive faster?” Sarah A asks.

“I’m going the speed limit,” I say.

“Break the speed limit,” Sarah A says. “We’ve got to get back while she’s still out on the lake. She kayaks every day for two hours. She’s old. And totally addicted to her routine. We have about an hour.”

“To do what?” Sarah B asks. “Are we going to kayak with her? I’ll need to change into my bathing suit.”

“I didn’t even bring a bathing suit,” Sarah C says.

“I don’t really feel like swimming, but John Glenn can join you,” I say.

“There’s not going to be any swimming,” Sarah A says. “I want to look at her laptop.”

“You want to steal her computer?” Sarah C asks.

“No, I just want to look at it,” Sarah A says.

“What do you think you’ll find?” Sarah C asks. “Helpful secret information?”

“What’s wrong with you? We could find anything. Maybe fantastic essays from last year. Maybe internal memos from Michigan about what they’re looking for. Maybe scandalous personal information that we can use to blackmail Gail.”

Sarah A continues to suck on the straw. She has her window rolled down and her blonde hair flies around her face in choppy sections. Her ends look split. Her nails are chipped. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s living in a cabin, but she seems to have really let herself go.

“This doesn’t sound like the best idea,” Sarah C says as I pull back into the campground.

“She can’t stay on the lake forever. We’ve got to do it now,” Sarah A says.

She climbs out of the car and sets her drink on the roof. We all get out too. Sarah A walks over to me and threads her arm through mine.

“Are you with me or not?” Sarah A asks.

I look at Sarah B and Sarah C. They both shrug.

“You and John Glenn watch the lake. Sarah B, stand outside the cabin. Sarah C, help me download the files,” Sarah A says.

John Glenn runs to a pine tree and relieves himself.

“This idea sounds weird,” Sarah C says. “We might not find anything useful. And we’d be committing breaking and entering. That’s a felony.” Sarah C smooths her tank top over her stomach. “We could get caught. Maybe even prosecuted.”

Sarah A lets go of my arm and charges Sarah C.

“Are you saying you won’t do it?” Sarah A asks. She glares
at her and licks her lips. “It’s stupid to say that. We won’t get caught and we could get an upper hand on all the other jerks applying to Michigan. What if we don’t get in? Imagine how that rejection would feel.”

Sarah C removes the elastic band from her ponytail and lets her red hair fall around her shoulders.

“It seems unlikely that she’d have old essays on her computer,” Sarah C says.

“I agree,” I say, displaying a thumbs-up sign. “Very unlikely.”

Sarah A pivots to face me. “You’re agreeing with Sarah C?”

I keep making the thumbs-up sign.

“Stop doing that. You’ve got freakishly stubby thumbs,” Sarah A says. “What about you, Sarah B? Are you with me?”

Sarah B pulls off her cap and situates it backward on her head. Her brown eyes look unfazed by the drama and somewhat distracted.

“It seems a little random,” Sarah B says.

“Yeah,” I say. “This is
so
random. Let’s bag it.”

“So you’re all saying ‘no’? After all we’ve been through, you’re just going to abandon me?” Sarah A asks.

“I wouldn’t exactly call this abandonment,” Sarah C says.

“That’s what it feels like. You’re all just turning your backs on me. And you,” Sarah A says, stabbing her finger at me, “apparently, pinky-swears mean nothing to you.”

“That’s not true,” I say, lifting up my pinky, wriggling it in the air. “I’m totally here for you. You’re the one who wants to run off and commit another crime. It’s more like
you
are abandoning
me
.”

Sarah A shakes her head at me and groans.

“What’s happened to you? It’s like you’ve become a totally different person,” Sarah A says. “A sucky one.”

“Let’s not start calling each other names,” Sarah C says.

“What I want us to do isn’t even a real crime,” Sarah A says. “Real crimes have victims. In this situation, nobody will get hurt.”

“It feels like a crime,” Sarah C says. “And I’m not in the mood to feel like a criminal.”

“Yeah, I’ve already contributed to the demise of a horse,” I say.

“And I’ve got a ton of tree carcasses weighing on my conscience,” Sarah B says.

Sarah A reaches down and grabs a handful of gravel from the parking lot. She looks at all of us and then spins around, throwing the small rocks at our legs.

“I’ll do it without you. And don’t expect any help from me. Now or ever. As for the guy phase, you’re on your own. Good luck securing relationships. I can’t believe this.”

“Calm down,” I say.

“Don’t tell me how to feel!” Sarah A screams.

Her quaking voice bounces off the trees.

“You three do whatever it is you’re going to do. But I’m going to make something of myself,” Sarah A says.

“We all want to make something of ourselves,” Sarah C says. “We just don’t want to break into that woman’s cabin.”

Sarah A tosses her hair over her shoulder and then folds her arms across her chest.

“You don’t get it,” Sarah A says. “I’m going to be somebody important. And my parents, my real and awful parents, they will look at me and wish they’d made a different choice. They’ll look at everything I’ve done and they’ll know, they’ll have to know, that what they did was a mistake.”

I watch Sarah A breathe. Her chest is heaving, her shoulders rise and fall.

“Sometimes, that’s how I feel about my mom,” Sarah B says. She pulls her cap off and holds it at her side.

“That’s so different,” Sarah A says. “You choose not to talk to your mom. You’re pissed off about her affair. It’s not the same thing. This wasn’t my choice. Somebody made me and then didn’t want me. Somebody grew me inside of her and she gave me away.”

“Maybe she thought it was the better choice,” Sarah C says.

Sarah A can’t hold back her tears. They stream down her cheeks like a flood.

“Better for who?” Sarah A asks. She takes a step backward and then another. “I don’t need you guys. I don’t need anybody.”

Sarah C, Sarah B, and I watch Sarah A stomp off toward a small cabin near the lake.

“I think she’s wrong. I think she totally needs us,” I say.

“She’s so upset,” Sarah B says.

“Her new level of violence is completely disturbing,” Sarah C says. “It’s like she’s going to have to be physically restrained.”

Sarah A turns onto the path that leads up to the cabin.

“Can’t the woman in the kayak see Sarah A entering her porch?” Sarah C asks.

“I think so,” I say.

“We should do something,” Sarah B says. “Sarah A has gone off the deep end.”

I don’t think that any of us know what to do to help Sarah A. She’s acting way more unpredictable and crazy than she ever has before.

“I think Sarah A is our friend and we shouldn’t let her self-destruct,” I say. “If we don’t want to commit a crime, maybe we should talk her out of it.”

“That isn’t going to happen,” Sarah C says. “Didn’t you see her? She’s lost it.”

We watch Sarah A partially disappear behind a clump of pines.

“This is so stupid,” Sarah C says. “All I ever wanted was Benny Stowe. Is that so wrong?”

“You might still get Benny Stowe,” I say.

“The guy phase is a disaster. And now Sarah A is acting way too reckless. The only way I’ll get Benny Stowe is the old-fashioned method.”

“Sex?” I ask.

“I wish,” Sarah C says. “I’ll befriend him and see if he’s interested in me.”

“We have to do something,” Sarah B says. “Now!”

“I’m tired of being a thief,” Sarah C says. “I’d rather just knock Sarah A out and drag her back to the car.”

“Okay,” I say. I’m surprised by my quick and affirmative response to Sarah C’s violent strategy. “But don’t hurt her in a permanent way.”

“I won’t really knock her out. I’ll just hold her back,” Sarah C says.

“Right,” I say. “I’ll help carry her legs.”

“She’s very strong and knows quite a few jujitsu moves,” Sarah B says. “So watch out for those.”

“What are you going to do?” I ask Sarah B.

“I’ll open the car door for you,” Sarah B says. “Also, I’ll warn you if I see her making any sudden or powerful thrusts.”

“Jesus,” Sarah C says. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Wait up!” I yell after Sarah A.

We all take off running after her, even John Glenn. All we have to do is prevent her from committing a crime. How hard can that be? Three against one? Even with a few of her jujitsu moves thrown in, aren’t the odds completely in our favor?

Chapter 28

Sarah B serves as our lookout, while Sarah C and I enter the cabin. Sarah A stands at Gail’s desk, frantically pecking at her laptop.

“There’s all kinds of stuff on here,” Sarah A says. “It’s the mother lode.”

“Sarah A, we need to talk,” Sarah C says.

“When I’m finished,” Sarah A says. “And Sarah T, you need to get out to the lake. We don’t need three people in here.”

I watch Sarah C walk up behind Sarah A and grab her by the shoulders. She pulls her to the ground.

“Stop it!” Sarah A screams. “You’re ruining everything.”

They roll on the wood floor. Sarah A tries to push Sarah C off her, but Sarah C has wrapped her long legs around Sarah A’s waist. Sarah A can’t pull herself to a standing position.

“Do you need help?” I ask Sarah C.

“I’ve got her,” Sarah C says.

“What’s wrong with you two?” Sarah A asks. “Let go of me.”

Sarah A flips onto her back and begins crawling like a crab toward me. She swings her arm and grabs my ankle. I fall on the floor too.

“It’s for your own good,” I say, trying to shake off Sarah A’s hand.

“Ouch!” Sarah C screams. “She’s using her teeth.”

I roll over onto my stomach and crawl away from Sarah A and her snapping jaws. When I look back, I see that Sarah A has Sarah C in a headlock. How did that happen?

“Listen, I don’t know why you two want to wrestle, but you’re both on the verge of wrecking our lives. I found the file that I want. I’m going to print it. Sarah T, go out to the lake and watch for Gail. Sarah C, stay here with me and help me. This is important. Plus, it’s the last wrong thing I’ll ever do. I promise.”

Sarah C is turning such an intense shade of red that she’s beginning to look purple.

“Does she need air?” I ask, pointing to Sarah C.

“Probably,” Sarah A says. “But I’m not releasing anybody until you guys promise to help me. It’s the last time. Can’t you be a friend to me in this?”

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