Raising Faith (12 page)

“But what about the law?” asked Mom. “Sure, we might have friends and all that, but what happens when the law says that taking you kids away from your father was wrong? What happens when he has the legal right to take you back and to put me in jail? What then?”

The car got silent again. Emily wanted to ask Mom if she knew these things for certain, if she had really looked into it, or if she was just believing things that Dad had told her — things that he used to frighten her. Emily could remember other times when Dad would scare Mom into seeing things his way. He would use his power to hurt and
control her — and sometimes it seemed that Mom wasn’t really thinking straight. Was this turning into one of those times?

“I’m hungry,” said Emily. “I didn’t have any lunch and I —”

“I’m hungry too,” said Kyle. “Can we stop and get something in the next town?”

“And I need to use a restroom,” added Emily. But what she was thinking was she wanted to find a pay phone. She wanted to call Morgan’s grandma and get some more advice.

“Okay, we’ll find a fast-food place,” said Mom. “And we’ll order something to eat in the car. My plan is to drive until we get out of Oregon. Then we’ll find a motel in some little town in northern California. But that’s as far as I’ve planned so far.”

After about twenty minutes they came to a town, and Mom drove until Kyle spotted a McDonald’s. Emily told Mom what she wanted, and then pretending to go to the restroom, she went to the pay phone instead, placing a collect call to Morgan’s house.

“Hello?” said Morgan’s grandma.

“Grandma,” said Emily happily, remembering how she had invited Emily to call her that the very first day they’d met.

“Oh, Emily, honey, how
are
you?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Where
are you?”

Emily told her. Then she told her about her mom’s plan about getting past the state line and staying in the first small town in California. “I’m not even sure where, exactly, but I’ll try to call from there.”

“Can’t you ask your mother to come back?”

“I so wish!” Emily said quickly. “This is the deal, Grandma. My mom is so scared of my dad that she’s just really freaked. And I don’t think she’s really thought this whole thing through, you know what I mean?”

“I understand, Emily … but you should know that your friend Chelsea was here a while ago,” said Grandma. “And her father is contacting a lawyer friend — a Mr. Lawrence, I believe — and he may want to help your mom.”

“I babysat for him,” said Emily as she remembered earning money for the ski trip, the ski trip that she was going to miss now. “He’s a nice guy.”

“So, perhaps you should give Chelsea a call, dear.”

“Okay. I’ll do that.”

“And, remember, we all want to help you and your family. Tell your mother she has good friends here, folks who will do what they can to help her. And tell her, Emily, that there must be a way to work this thing out without you poor kids always being on the run. God has better answers.”

“I’ll try to make her see that.” Emily thanked Grandma now and hung up, immediately placing a collect
call to Chelsea’s cell phone and hoping that Chelsea would accept the charges.

“Emily!” cried Chelsea. “Is it really you?”

“Yeah, and I have to talk fast. Mom’ll get mad if she finds out what I’m doing. I just talked to Morgan’s grandma and she said that Mr. Lawrence might be able to —”

“Yes! He wants to help your mom, Emily. He’s doing some legal research right now. Can you call back at my house in a little while?”

“I don’t think so … we have to keep driving. But when we stop for the night, at a motel, I’ll try to call again. Can I call collect at your house?”

“Of course!”

“I gotta go,” said Emily as she noticed her mom’s car waiting past the drive-in window now.

“Take care,” said Chelsea. “We’re all here for you, Emily. We love you, and we’re really praying for you.”

“Thanks.” Then Emily hung up and, without even using the restroom, she dashed back out to the car.

“That took a while,” said Emily’s mom.

“There was a line,” said Emily. And that was true. There was a line. It was just that Emily had not been in the line. Of course, now that they were on the road again, she wished that she had been.

“Thanks,” said Morgan as Mr. Greeley handed over the key to Emily’s house. “I sure do wish the Adams hadn’t left like that …”

“You and me both, Morgan.” He shook his head sadly. “Just don’t seem right.”

“Well, my friends and I are doing everything we can to help them to come back to Boscoe Bay — back where they belong.”

Mr. Greeley almost smiled now. “Well, if anyone can make something like that happen, I’d wager it would be you and your friends, Morgan.”

“And God,” said Morgan. “We need his help.”

“You let me know if I can be of any help too. If there’s anything I can do, you just let me know. I care about that little family.”

“I know you do,” said Morgan. She suddenly remembered how it had been Emily who had broken through to Mr. Greeley. It had been Emily who had solved the mystery of Mr. Greeley’s estranged son and told him about it. Of course, he would have a special place for Emily in his heart. For that matter, so did Morgan. They had to get her back here!

“Well, I better get going,” said Morgan. “Thanks again.”

Then she took off running through the rain, trying not to get drenched before she got to Emily’s house. Even though it wasn’t yet five o’clock, it was dark out. And not a single light was on in the Adams’ house. Morgan fumbled in the darkness, trying to get the key into the door as rain dripped down her back. Finally she got it unlocked, opened the door, went in, and turned on the lights, both inside and out. That was much better. Much friendlier. She could almost make herself believe that Emily and her family hadn’t really left. Or that they would be home shortly.

She walked through the living room, wondering what it was she was really looking for. She knew she needed some sort of clue … something to show her where Emily and her family were headed, some way that Morgan and the rest of her friends could locate them and help them. The living room looked much the same as it had when Emily was still here. The same furnishings and things that Morgan’s mom had loaned and given them were there, along with some of the things that Emily’s mom had purchased later.

Morgan was somewhat surprised to see that the TV was still there, since Emily’s mom had worked hard to save for and buy it. But then it was probably too bulky to put in their car, along with all their other belongings.
Maybe Morgan’s mom could put it in their storage shed for them, to save for them when they came back … if they came back.

Morgan swallowed against the lump that was growing in her throat. Maybe Emily wasn’t coming back. Maybe Morgan was just on a wild goose chase right now. She walked around the abandoned house and tried to imagine what it would be like if Emily really was gone for good. Would someone else move into this house? Would Morgan ever hear from Emily again? What if that was it? Was this the end of their friendship?

“No,” Morgan said out loud, and her voice echoed in the hallway that led toward the bedrooms. “That’s not faith talking.” Then she started to pray again. She prayed aloud, asking God to help her to find something in this house that might show her where Emily was and how to reach her. And, once again, she asked God to watch over Emily and her brother and mom. She asked him to work out a way to get them back here. “The sooner the better, dear God,” she prayed. “By Christmas would be nice. Thank you. Amen.”

Feeling a little more faithful, Morgan walked through the kitchen now. It too looked the same. She looked at the notepad, even picking it up and holding it on an angle to the light, hoping she might detect some important number or destination. But it looked like a grocery list: milk, eggs,
cereal, bread. Nothing that seemed to lead to anything. She looked at the wall phone. It was the old-fashioned kind with a curly cord that kept it attached. If it was like the phone at Grandma’s, the one Mom had picked out, Morgan could check the caller ID to see who had called recently. That could provide a good clue. But, as it was, she felt clueless.

She walked down the hallway and peeked in Emily’s mom’s room. It was messier than usual, with some odd bits and pieces of clothing strewn about, as if someone had packed very quickly. Not enough time to take everything. What if she’d left something behind that she needed? Morgan felt a little guilty for looking through a grownup’s room. It almost seemed like trespassing. And so she continued on. Kyle’s room had the same messy look, as if someone had packed recklessly, in a hurry. Morgan pushed a couple of the opened drawers back in, picked up a stray sock and laid it on the dresser, and even straightened his bedspread.

Morgan stood by the door, looking at his room. If you didn’t know what was up, all that had gone on today, you might think that the Adams were still living here. All the furnishings were in place. Sports posters still hung on Kyle’s wall. Even his football and skateboard were still in the corner, like Kyle would be back any minute.

Finally, Morgan went to Emily’s room. She held her breath as she turned on the overhead light. Everything
looked almost exactly the same here as well. Emily’s bed was neatly made, the colorful plush pillows that she and Morgan had sewn together were lined up along the top, each one in place, all except for the tiger-striped one. That was Emily’s favorite and the softest one of the bunch. Hopefully she had that one with her. Morgan pulled open one of Emily’s drawers. Empty. The closet was empty too. It seemed that Emily had taken more time to pack. Morgan remembered how little Emily had brought with her when she first moved to Boscoe Bay — literally the clothes on her back. Morgan remembered that day, back when they’d first become friends. Emily had been knocked from her bike by one of the bullies. She’d hurt her knee and torn her jeans. And, later, when Morgan and Emily got better acquainted, Emily confessed that the reason she’d cried wasn’t because of her knee, but because she’d torn her jeans — her only jeans. That’s when Morgan had mended them and then given her some of the clothes from her own closet, things she still liked, but had outgrown. Emily had been so appreciative. And that was the beginning of a great friendship. A friendship that Morgan wasn’t ready to let go of. They needed Emily and her family back here. They needed to stay together!

Morgan picked up a thin paperback book from Emily’s dresser. It was one of the books that had been on their
recommended reading list in English class, but Morgan had assumed by the rather ordinary-looking cover that it must’ve been pretty boring. Just a plain black and white photo of a kind of weird-looking girl named Anne Frank. Morgan had actually been surprised when Emily had chosen this book, when it seemed there were so many others that looked far more interesting. But then Emily was really into books — a lot more than Morgan. And Emily often read poetry and old-fashioned books that Morgan had absolutely no interest in.

At least that’s what Morgan had thought … until Emily had told her about something she’d just read. Then the book and the characters would seem to come to life, and Morgan would suddenly wonder if she’d missed something. Right now she mostly missed her best friend.

She flipped over the well-worn paperback to read the blurb on the back. The title of the book was
Diary of a Young Girl
, and all that Morgan knew was that it had been written by a girl a long time ago. Back when World War II was going on. Still, Emily had been saying how good it was, and she had teasingly reminded Morgan, “You really shouldn’t judge a book by the cover.”

Now, as Morgan read the words on the back, she realized that, once again, Emily was probably right. This “boring-looking book” was the story of a thirteen-year-old girl who had hidden with her family in a small attic space
to escape persecution from the Nazis during the war. Judging by the blurb, the evil Nazis probably wanted to kill this girl and her family.

Morgan opened the book to the middle, a little trick she’d learned back in grade school, and began to read. And what she read completely surprised her. She actually sat down on Emily’s bed and continued to read several pages, getting totally caught up in Anne’s story. This teenage girl described the sad conditions of living in a tiny attic with her relatives and not having enough food to eat and having to remain deathly quiet during the daytime. And yet this girl sounded so real and funny and smart. Morgan knew that she would have to read the whole book now, starting from the beginning. Then she and Emily could talk about it. That is if Emily got to come back.

Morgan was about to give up when she heard someone knocking. It sounded like the front door. It was probably Mom, home from work and coming to check on her. She’d probably seen the note Morgan had left on the kitchen table, saying she’d come over here to look around. Maybe Mom wanted to help. Or maybe Mom had some kind of news. Feeling suddenly hopeful, Morgan ran through the house to the front door and was just starting to unlock it when the knocking grew intense. It was more like banging than knocking. She paused with her hand frozen on the
doorknob. And just then she heard a man’s voice shouting loudly.

“Let me in, Lisa! I know you’re in there!”

Morgan jerked her hand away from the doorknob, thankful that she had locked it behind her and that it was still locked. Then she stood on tiptoe to peer through the peephole. There, standing under the porch light, was a soggy and angry-faced man. He was swearing and beating on the door like he meant to break it down.

“I can hear you, Lisa!” He yelled. “I know you’re there. You better open this door right this minute, or I’m going to kick it in.”

With a pounding heart, Morgan slowly backed away from the door. Then she ran to the kitchen and grabbed the phone receiver, immediately dialing her own number, but then wishing she’d called 9-1-1 instead. Too late, Grandma had answered. Her calm, soothing voice seemed out of place with the furious sound of banging and yelling from the direction of the front door.

“Grandma!” said Morgan urgently. “I’m at Emily’s house. Someone is trying to break in. Probably Emily’s dad. Call the police
right now
. I gotta go!”

Then she hung up the phone, dashed down the hallway, and went straight for Emily’s room because it felt the most familiar. But where could she hide? Knowing she couldn’t hide beneath the futon bed, she headed for the closet and
went inside. She was just closing the door behind her when she heard a loud crash coming from the living room. Morgan shuddered. Emily’s dad had broken into the house! And right now, he was stomping through the living room!

Dear God, help me
, she prayed silently.