Looking for Cassandra Jane (The Second Chances Novels) (35 page)

BOOK: Looking for Cassandra Jane (The Second Chances Novels)
9.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Good thinking,” I said, nodding. “And you didn’t come a moment too soon.” I exhaled deeply.

Joey took my hand in his. I clung tightly, savoring the warmth and strength of his touch. What had I ever done to deserve this kind of a friend?

“Are you okay, Cass?”

I wasn’t sure where to begin, but I began to pour out my story, words piling on top of words, stopping just short of what had happened to Skip. I wasn’t sure if I could talk about that yet.

The officer, completely stunned by my words, said, “You’re kidding! Everyone in town thought that group was a bunch of nature-freak hippies. We had no idea about all that other stuff. Are you willing to make a statement, miss?” He glanced into the rearview mirror. “And to press charges?”

“A statement? Charges? I—uh—I don’t know.” Everything was happening too fast. I needed some time to figure out what to do next.

As if he had read my mind, Joey spoke up. “I think we need to give her some time to relax first. She’s been through a lot.”

So we stopped just briefly at the police station. There I answered some preliminary questions. “I think that’s enough for now,” said Joey, who was sort of acting as my attorney even though he was barely into his own prelaw classes at the time. “Cass needs a chance to rest and recover from all this. We’ll be in touch.”

After leaving the police station, Joey took me out for dinner. I can still remember my utter amazement at being in an actual restaurant where you could order anything—absolutely anything—you wanted. I just sat staring at the plastic-coated menu, unable to make a decision. Finally, after the waitress came back for the third time, Joey offered to order for me. I simply nodded in relief. He ordered a bacon cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate shake for me (food that had long since been banned by Venus) and I slowly consumed it all. I felt Joey watching me as I ate, and I knew I should attempt to make some sort of conversation, but the embarrassing truth was I was so completely fascinated by the forbidden food that I could only focus my attention on each delectable bite.

Finally I dipped my last fry in ketchup and looked up. “Thanks, Joey.”

The waitress picked up our plates and Joey asked me if I wanted coffee.

“Coffee?” I remember saying the word slowly, letting it roll off my tongue as if it were something exotic or foreign. Then I nodded.

After she brought our coffee, I began to talk. The whole story of Sky’s oppression, the drugs, the rules, and even Skip’s disappearance came pouring out of me. Joey just listened in silence, but I could see the pain and concern in his eyes. Finally, in a lowered voice, I told him that I believed that Skip was dead—had been killed. And that’s when I saw tears filling Joey’s eyes.

“Skip was a good friend of mine, too,” he finally said. “We both became Christians at the same time.” Then he slammed his fist down on the table, making the silverware jump. “They have to be stopped, Cass. Do you think you can make a statement?”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I just want to get as far away from them and this place as possible.”

He reached over and took my hand. “I know. But think about Skip. Can you do it for him? And what about the others? It’s possible that someone else will want out too! Maybe even right now. And what then?”

I thought about Mitch and Cindy (River and Breeze). She was expecting another baby. What if she had complications again? I couldn’t bear to think of her losing another baby… or worse. I closed my eyes and forced myself to say, “Yes, I think I can do this.”

 

Twenty-six

 

D
uring the next few days
I was amazed that Joey could afford two rooms at the Holiday Inn. We spent most of our time discussing what would become of me. Although he wanted to take me back to Brookdale, the local police wanted me to stay in California so that I would be available to offer testimony as needed when the case eventually came to court (we knew it could be a while). And I knew he had enough to worry about without adding me to the list.

And so we finally worked it out for me to live in a small California town, just a couple hundred miles away from the Funny Farm, where there was a community college that Joey thought sounded good. His suggestion was that I get my GED and then take college classes.

Joey drove me to the campus, then walked me around, making inquiries as he went and acting very much like my guardian, which I suppose I greatly needed just then. And somehow Joey found Elizabeth Jones, an academic counselor who was a strong Christian, and I think he asked her, maybe even begged her, to keep me under her wing for a while. At the time I was still somewhat oblivious and I think fairly overwhelmed. But I trusted Joey. His instincts were good, and his track record far superior to mine.

Joey helped me to secure housing in a dorm right on campus, a private room, even (he’d explained how this was easier accomplished in summer than in fall). And then he took the time to drive me downtown to do some quick shopping, just some jeans and shirts and personal things, but enough to get me by for a while. Finally he drove me to the bank right next to campus and explained to me that a small trust fund had been set up to cover my college and living expenses, and so I wasn’t to worry about money.

“But how?” I asked. “Who—”

He waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it, Cass. It’s like when Jesus said not to be anxious about what you eat or wear, but just remember how God takes care of the flowers and the birds.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Oh brother, Joey, that sounds like something Sky might say.”

Joey reached across the car and put his hand on my shoulder. “Cass, the problem with Sky was that not everything he said was a lie. He always mixed some truth along with it, so that it was easier to swallow.”

“I suppose so.” I looked down at my lap. “But I feel like a fool just the same.”

“Don’t, Cass.” He sighed deeply. “The only reason you got sucked into all that was because you have a good heart and you wanted someone to take care of you. But I know you, and I believe you were really trying to follow Jesus.”

I looked up at him. “That’s true, Joey. I did believe I was following Jesus. I really did.”

He nodded. “I know. And for a while I even tried to believe that you guys were okay out here. I mean, who was I to judge your choices? Even if Sky was a little off base, aren’t we all a little off sometimes when it comes to spiritual things? But I figure God can usually set us straight. I guess I hoped that’s how it would be with Sky and you guys. But I never stopped praying for all of you.”

“Really? I thought maybe you’d written us all off as a bunch of crazed fanatics.”

He laughed. “Well, I did think you were a little fanatical. But then there were times when I was working so hard and felt so pressured and stressed out that I actually felt slightly envious of your little commune, and I even wondered if you guys didn’t have the right idea after all.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

He’d parked the car by now, and we got out and sat down on a shaded cement bench situated on the edge of campus. “Maybe, but there is something to be said about a slower, quieter kind of life.” He glanced at his watch and groaned. “Speaking of the rat race, it’s almost time for me to get going again.”

I felt a tightness creep up into my chest, almost as if I wasn’t going to be able to breathe. And suddenly everything in me wanted to grab on to him, to fall on my knees and to beg him to stay with me, or to take me with him—anything!

But I bit my lip and took in a deep breath. I knew I had no right to make such demands. I also knew that Joey had such a good heart that he might have given in to my hysteria. No, I had to be strong. “Well, I wish you didn’t have to go so soon, but I understand.”

“Cass, I’m sorry.”

I felt tears slipping down my cheeks, but I didn’t want him to see, so I bent down and picked some dandelions that had crept into the flowerbed surrounding the bench. I remember wondering why they considered them weeds as I studied their sunny, yellow faces, slightly blurring around the edges due to my tears. “I know you need to go, Joey. And I really appreciate all you’ve done for me. Really.”

“I’d stay longer if I hadn’t already registered for summer classes, but even as it is I’ll have missed a few by the time I get back. I think I mentioned to you how I’m trying to pick up some extra credits this summer. I want to get all the electives that I can in the next two years, so I’ll have a better chance at getting into law school.”

“I still can’t believe you’re halfway through college already.” I shook my head in amazement. “It just doesn’t seem that long ago since we were both in the same grade back in Brookdale. And look at me, Joey, I don’t even have my high school diploma yet.” I forced a pitiful laugh. “Here you have it, once again, ladies and gentlemen, Joey Divers sprints ahead, leaving Cass Maxwell back in the dust.”

He squeezed my hand. “You know it’s not like that, Cass. Whether you can see it or not, you’ve had some real-life education that could be more valuable than college.”

I blinked at him. “You’ve got to be pulling my leg.”

“Really, Cass. I’ll bet the things you learned at the commune will be with you for a long, long time.”

I moaned. “Oh, I hope not. I’d like to forget the whole thing.”

“No, Cass. You need to remember what you’ve learned—things like how you need to follow Jesus and not a person, no matter who he claims to be.” He peered down into my face. “Not even me, Cass.”

“But I can trust you, Joey. I’ve always—”

“You need to trust God, Cass. And yourself.”

I nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

Then he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small leather-bound Bible. “I know you didn’t get to bring anything out of the commune with you, and I thought maybe you could use this.”

I fingered the cover of the book, soft and worn from use. “But this is yours, Joey. I can’t take your—”

“I want you to keep it for me, Cass. And promise me you’ll read it every day. I’ve underlined some verses that have been especially meaningful to me. Maybe they’ll mean something to you, too.”

I thanked him and we hugged briefly. I no longer tried to conceal my tears, since it was useless anyway. “I know you need to go now. I’ll be fine, Joey. Please don’t worry about me.”

I waved and waved, tears streaming down my face, until his car was completely out of sight. And despite my relief at being free from the Funny Farm, I’d never felt so completely alone in my entire life. Even though I knew that God was with me.

I can still remember the metallic taste of fear in my mouth as I walked across the campus to the counseling center a couple days later, on my way to take my GED test in Elizabeth’s office. I had spent the previous days in the cloistered security of my little dorm room, almost afraid to venture out. Only a week ago I’d been living out at the farm, and suddenly everything on the “outside” felt big and overwhelming and scary to me. Not only that, but I felt like an imposter here, like they would soon find me out and send me back to the Funny Farm to go peel potatoes in the kitchen or have Sky’s baby or something.

But of course that didn’t happen. Instead I passed my GED, with flying colors just as Joey had predicted, and then spent an hour talking with, or mostly listening to, Elizabeth. At first I felt uncomfortable and somewhat intimidated by this tall, attractive black woman. She seemed so together and I felt like such a loser. But she was kind and supportive. And she encouraged me to take general studies courses for now, until I could decide what I’d like to major in for my bachelor’s degree (although I wasn’t even sure I wanted to, or could even afford to, attend four full years of college).

“Your friend told me a little of your previous circumstances,” she said as we were winding down the interview. “I want you to feel free to call me if you need to talk to someone. I used to have a private practice as a counselor before I came on staff here, and I’m not all that busy, at least during the first part of summer anyway.”

And so it was arranged I would meet with Elizabeth twice a week to start with (we later changed it to weekly as her schedule grew fuller). By the second week, she helped me to find work—not in a kitchen!—but as a part-time receptionist in the psychology department that was run by a good friend of hers.

“You’ll probably need to dress more traditionally for work,” she said, glancing down at my jeans. “I have a daughter a little older than you, who’s just about your size, and she’s always cleaning out her closet—” Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I shouldn’t be offering you hand-me-downs.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ve worn them all my life and it really doesn’t bother me much anymore.”

By the following week I was wearing Yolanda Jones’s hand-me-downs (which were really the nicest clothes I’d ever had in my life) and working in a quiet office environment. Well, who would’ve thought? And to look at me you might’ve assumed,
Now there goes a normal, ordinary girl.

But that’s not how I felt on the inside. I could tell, as I continued to meet with Elizabeth, that I had what she called “issues” to resolve. And while her counseling was helpful and good, I realized these were things I’d have to work out for myself, and over time (and hopefully with God’s help, since I still continued to read Joey’s Bible and pray a lot). I found, probably as a result of living the past eighteen months in a fairly “restricted” society, not to mention the earlier years of my life, that I had become somewhat fearful and careful and even suspicious of others. When classes started in the fall, I found myself pulling more and more into myself and more and more away from others.

Other books

1862 by Robert Conroy
Kiss On The Bridge by Mark Stewart
12 Rose Street by Gail Bowen
Broken Blade by Kelly McCullough
Dragonblood by Anthony D. Franklin
A Most Unladylike Adventure by Elizabeth Beacon
Parker 01 - The Mark by Pinter, Jason
The Best Intentions by Ingmar Bergman