The People in the Park (3 page)

“What’s wrong with her?” Callie asked.

And those are Jay’s friends,” said Stacie. “Where is Jay anyway?”

I shrugged. Jay was my boyfriend, and I hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days.

Another stream of laughter erupted, and looks our way.

“We don’t know what they’re talking about,” Melanie said, trying to bring reason to the situation. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

She was right, of course. But deep down inside, I knew that I was the brunt of their jokes.

I felt a tightening in my throat. I couldn’t eat anything.

“I’ll see you after school,” I said, fleeing as quickly as my legs would carry me.

It seemed to take forever to navigate the long hallway and reach the door that would take me outside. The walls seemed to be closing in. I had to hold onto one to steady myself. Once outside, the brisk air assaulted me. I walked around the school grounds to clear my head. Long deep gulps of fresh air brought me back to myself. I passed groups of students, but they were a blur. Nothing registered. I walked quickly, going nowhere, yet walking as if with purpose. When it was time for afternoon classes, I re-entered the warmth of the school. Although my body was warming, I still felt coldness deep inside my heart.

The rest of the school day was uneventful. I began to feel like the worse was over. After school, I met Callie, Melanie, and Stacie in our usual spot under a sprawling oak tree that stood in the center of campus.

Steffy came up. “I have to work on a project, so I’ll catch up with you later.”

She turned and went into the science building.

Callie, Stacie, Melanie and I walked to the parking lot together. They were making plans for later. I told them I had to go home. Our after school forays easily surpassed one hundred dollars. That was all I had to spend for the entire week.

As we walked through the gates, my eyes immediately went to my car. The white streaks were unmistakable. My car was all marked up.

On my red convertible in white paint were the words “Crook’s Daughter.” I was so angry and ashamed at the same time. Who would do such a thing?

“We have to report this to the principal,” Callie said.

“No, it’s all right,” I said.

“It’s not all right!” said Melanie. “You stay here. I’m going to tell Mrs. Clancy.”

As Melanie ran across the parking lot into the school, I saw groups of students milling around, looking our way. Evidently, they had seen the words, too. Maybe some of them had even written on my car. However, they all got in their cars and left when Melanie ran into the building. They didn’t want to get involved, especially with an issue involving a crook’s daughter.

“There’s a note on the windshield,” Stacie said. She went around to retrieve it and handed it to me. Reluctantly, I opened it.

So that is how your daddy got enough money to send you to Fairfield Oaks. He stole it!

My face burned with embarrassment. I dropped the note. Callie picked it up, read it, and passed it to Stacie. By this time Melanie and our principal, Mrs. Clancy, had come up. Stacie handed the note to her.

“We will not tolerate vandalism on this campus,” Mrs. Clancy said. “I’ve called the police. They’ll be here shortly. I also called your parents. They’re on their way.”

I couldn’t say anything. I nodded. I didn’t want Mom and Dad involved. I didn’t know how I felt about Dad showing up.

The parking lot was almost empty when the police and my parents arrived. Dad and Mrs. Clancy talked to the police. Mom thanked Callie, Melanie, and Stacie for staying with me. She told them they could go home.

After the police had finished their report and taken the handwritten note with them, Mom drove my car, with me in the passenger seat, and Dad followed us to make sure nothing else happened between school and home.

When we got home, tension filled the air. “I’ve been embarrassed once again,” Mom said. “It’s one thing after another. When is it going to end?”

“I’m doing my best to deal with this,” Dad said. “It takes time!” He went off to his study and closed the door.

I was right on his heels. I went straight to my room. I didn’t want to talk about anything with anybody, not even Mom and Dad.

3

My room was wrapped in color.

Pale butter yellow striped wallpaper with bronze pin striping covered one wall. The other three walls were painted yellow, enveloping my room in sunny easy-to-live-with color. Detailed in yellow, my white dresser and white bed created a striking contrast in a room that had been my personal refuge. Now it seemed to be my prison. When I wasn’t at school or in the park or hanging out with my friends, I was here. I used to love my room because it was a symbol of life and youth and vibrancy and energy.

Now I wished I could paint it dark blue or black to match my mood. There was emptiness deep inside me. It felt like I had nothing to hang on to. To make matters worse, the posters my friends and I had made for my run for senior class treasurer were lined up against the wall, mocking me.

Lying across my bed, I checked my iPhone for text messages. The first was from JayVonne, my boyfriend. Everybody called him Jay. Only his parents and relatives called him JayVonne. I hadn’t seen or heard from him in a couple of days, ever since the scandal broke.

He said he was in Atlanta. His grandmother had died suddenly, and his family went for the funeral. He wouldn’t return until next week.

Hearing from Jay made me smile. At least something good in my life was still happening. But I wished he were here.

I could hardly wait until prom. I hoped to escape into fantasyland on that magical night with Jay as my prince and I as his princess.

Mom and I were supposed to go shopping for prom dresses next weekend with Aunt Ira and my cousin, Tiffany. We were both eleventh grade except she went to Lincoln Prep, a public school in Kansas City, and I went to Fairfield Oaks. Tiffany and I got along well enough, but we didn’t hang out.

I went back to checking my text messages. Callie had sent one. She was worried about my car.

That was just like Callie to be worried about my car. If only that was all I had to worry about. I sent her a text back to let her know that Dad was putting it in the shop tomorrow.

Another text message came in. From Tiffany. She said she didn’t believe the news. Just a one-word reply to Tiffany.

Thanks.

Since we were family I didn’t think more was needed.

I wanted to talk to Jay but didn’t want to intrude on his family, so I dashed him a quick text.
Sorry about Grandma. Glad you are AAK. I want to go into airplane mode but can’t IRL. H&K.

A text came in from Steffy.
IMHO ur OM is corrupt.

What’s wrong with her? I replied,
DEGT.

Steffy responded
PMJI.

She was getting on my nerves. My family and our affairs didn’t concern her. Even if she was supposed to be my friend. I threw my iPhone across the bed. At that moment, Mom called me to dinner.

Take-out again. Chinese this time. Boxes of shrimp fried rice, moo goo gai pan, chancho, chicken lollipops, egg rolls, and noodles. Mom absently ate from a box while she watched the muted pictures on TV. She seemed to be obsessed with the coverage of Dad’s firm. She watched TV day and night so she wouldn’t miss any breaking bit of news.

Me? I just wanted to wake up from this nightmare. Apparently, Dad felt the same way. Every time he came into the kitchen, he turned off the TV. He wanted us getting our news from him, not from outside sources that might be wrong. So far, he had nothing new to report.

He said he was working with his lawyers to prove that he had done nothing wrong. He said he could prove that all of his clients’ money was safe. He hadn’t misused any of his clients’ power of attorney, and he could prove it. His lawyers were going through his clients’ records now and would soon present the findings to the federal authorities.

Mom announced that she was thinking about canceling the shopping trip for prom dresses. She said I could still go with Aunt Ira and Tiffany if I wanted a new dress. They would probably shop around here or go to St. Louis.

“Mom, you can’t back out. You promised that you were going to buy Tiffany’s dress, too.”

“We have to save money,” Mom said.

“We’ll be all right,” Dad said, as if sensing my horror at having to go back on the promise to Tiffany.

“We can take the money from my savings account,” I said.

“Honey, it’s not the end of the world. Your Aunt Ira can certainly afford a dress for Tiffany,” said Mom.

“I know, but you promised,” I said. “You can’t cancel.”

I fled to my room and to the comfort of my bed. It would be just horrific if we cancelled. I hadn’t treated Tiffany as an equal. I thought of her as my poor cousin. Last year, Mom had promised her that we would all go to Chicago and shop on Michigan Avenue and visit the boutiques on Rush Street and get designer prom dresses, her treat. I couldn’t bear for her to go back on her word.

We’re rich but now there was a possibility of losing it all, whereas Tiffany’s family would be maintaining a middle class standard of living and continuing on without any change in their lives. Aunt Ira would probably offer to buy my dress. Then we would have to shop at department stores and discount stores for a good deal. Plus, if Aunt Ira bought my dress, Tiffany would probably think she was better than me.

“This just stinks!”

I wished life could go back to the way it was last week. I didn’t have a care in the world. Life was great. We were on top of the world.

Now this.

Lost money. Lost status. Lost reputation. Lost dignity. Maybe we would have to move to a smaller house or apartment. Maybe we would have to sell my car that I got for my sixteenth birthday. So much uncertainty.

How could I concentrate on my studies, on getting a dress to go to the prom, on the joy of driving my car? My life was so messed up.

And I didn’t do anything wrong.

4

The note on the car started my emotional withdrawal from Fairfield Oaks.

I’d always thought of myself as an Oakie, the tag given to those with diehard school spirit. The name for our sports teams was the Spartans. I was a Spartan through and through. This was my school, a school I loved and thought I was a vital part of; evidently, not everybody thought the same.

The note had pierced a place deep inside of me that stung as much as the shock of Dad’s arrest. I couldn’t deal with it now, so I tucked this new wound away in my heart, hiding it from everyone.

I ran in the park again today, although I longed to walk leisurely with Mom and talk about what had happened. In just a few days, she had gone into a shell and locked me out. I wanted to talk to her and tell her what I was feeling. I wanted to talk about my fears and how scared I was that things were not going to work out for Dad. But I didn’t know how to reach her.

I couldn’t talk to Dad either. He was so optimistic and assured me that everything would be OK. He didn’t want me to worry. How could I not? My life was changing. Our lives were changing. And I felt like I had no control over anything.

I was just spiraling along in limbo, and my feet weren’t touching the ground. Every day something happened to make me go in another direction without any end in sight.

I circled the park three times, veering off the path several times and crossing the playground whenever I saw someone up ahead who might want to talk to me. Running cleared my head and calmed me down and put me in a zone where I could cope.

And Steffy? Her snubs and little comments had hurt more than any of the other students because she was supposed to be my friend. Callie, Melanie, Stacie, and I had welcomed her into our group and made her feel like a rock star. We knew how hard it would be for a new student to fit into a new school and make friends, so we had introduced her to all the cool kids. We’d paved the way for her. And now she took every opportunity to make me feel bad.

I looked up towards the sky. “Where are you, God?” I screamed, tears streaming from my eyes.

I felt so alone. What was the use in trying to get God’s attention anyway? He had taken life as I knew it away from me.

I wished I could just leave school for good, take my savings and hop on a plane and go to an island or foreign country and never come back.

What was I thinking? If I did that I’d miss going to the prom with Jay.

When I got to school I saw a commotion around Mrs. Clancy’s office. Students were lined up in the hallway outside her office. Callie exited the office as I passed. She caught up with me.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Police are interviewing everybody in the student parking lot,” she said. “They’re going to find out who defaced your car. How did you get to school today?”

“I drove Mom’s car. She said she wouldn’t be using it.”

The day proceeded normally, except during lunch period when Mrs. Clancy announced on the intercom that the students who had written on my car had been identified and disciplined. She said that the school would not tolerate vandalism of private property on school grounds and anyone else caught doing so would also be punished. She said that all students must be treated with respect, and if anyone disagreed, they should transfer to another school.

Wow! I was impressed. Deep down inside I had believed that neither the school nor the police would do anything. I was wrong. At least I could hold my head up and not feel worthless. Mrs. Clancy had shown that I, as a student, was valued.

My good feelings towards all didn’t last long.

Steffy had started eating lunch with everybody else except Callie, Stacie, Melanie, and me, her closest friends. As we were leaving the cafeteria, Steffy was also leaving.

“We don’t see you much anymore,” Callie said. “What’s up with that?”

Steffy looked me straight in the eye. “You are toxic assets.”

Melanie gasped. “How can you say such a thing? Lauren is our friend. Friends support each other.”