California Diaries # 11: Dawn III: Missing (9 page)

BOOK: California Diaries # 11: Dawn III: Missing
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I could feel the color drain from my face. Ducky will do absolutely anything

for Sunny, and if she begged him to drive, then he’d drive. It was true that I didn’t

have to get in the car with Ducky, but I didn’t want anyone to get in the car with

Ducky, including Ducky.

“Come on, Ducky,” said Sunny. “Let’s go. Where are your keys?” She

tugged at Ducky’s arm.

Ducky got to his feet groggily. He reached into his pocket and pulled out

first his wallet, then his kets.

Without even thinking (it was ENTIRELY unpremeditated), I grabbed

Ducky’s keys out of his hand and dropped them into my purse.

Sunny’s mouth fell open. The next thing I knew, she had lunged for me. I

clutched my purse to my chest and crossed my arms over it. Sunny tried to pry

my wrists away from the purse.

“Give it!” she said hoarsely.

“No.”

“GIVE. IT.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

At this point, someone older than the busboys, the manager, maybe,

appeared through a door near the stage. “Okay, kids,” he said. “The show’s over.

Move along, now.”

I ran for the double doors leading back to the hal way and the front

entrance to the club. Sunny was right behind me. Behind her was Amalia, and

behind her, following more slowly, was Ducky. As soon as we had run through the

double doors, Sunny grabbed me from behind. “Give. Me. The. Key ring,” she

said slowly in this real y quiet voice. It scared me a little.

“Forget it, Sunny,” I said.

O looked around the vestibule and saw a bank of four pay phones. I ran

for them, dropped some change in the first one, and dialed our phone number. I

hoped I wasn’t going to have to wrestle Sunny during the conversation, but she

was now arguing with Ducky on the other side of the hal .

“Dad,” I said the moment I heard his voice, “the concert’s over and – ”

“Did you have fun?”

“Yeas, but Dad, you’re going to hate this – ”

“What is it?” Dad’s voice was immediately sharper.

“Ducky’s exhausted. He’s been having a really hard time lately and he

hasn’t been sleeping much, so now he thinks he’s a little too, um, tired to drive.

To drive safely, I mean. So I was wondering if you could come and get us. Ducky

will have to come back tomorrow for his car.”

There was a horrible silence on Dad’s end of the phone. Then he said

stiffly, “Very well. Tell me exactly where you are. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I gave Dad directions to the club and hung up the phone.

Even later Sunday morning 3/7

Here is the conversation that followed when I joined Ducky, Amalia, and

Sunny again (not that I clutched my purse the entire time):

Me: Okay, Dad’s on his way.

Sunny: (Sarcastically.) Fabulous.

Ducky and Amalia: (Looking truly relieved.) Good.

Sunny: You can wait for your father, Dawn, but I am going to take a bus

home. I am not going to ride with him.

Me: You can’t take a bus home by yourself in the middle of the night!

Sunny: I refuse to be humiliated by being picked up by your father, Dawn.

We’l all get lectured all the way home.

Me: Amalia, Sunny can’t go home by herself.

Sunny: How are you going to stop me? Any anyway, Amalia, Ducky, why

do you guys want to get lectured by Mr. Schafer? Come with me. Let Dawn go by

herself.

Ducky: No way. I don’t think I have enough money left for bus fare.

Anyway, I am not going to leave Dawn here. It’s not safe.

Sunny: But you’d let me go find the bus station by myself?

Ducky: No, I was going to tell you not to go.

Sunny: You were going to tel me not to go? You can’t tell me what to do.

Nobody can.

Me: You think it’s safe for you to wander around in the middle of the night

when it isn’t safe for anyone else? That you’re immune somehow?

Sunny: No. Turn your hearing aid up, Dawn. That isn’t what I said. I said

that nobody can tell me what to do.

Ducky: Well, technically, Sunny, anyone can tell you what to do. I can tell

you to walk home how. But you don’t have to decide to do it.

Sunny: (For a moment, just a fleeting moment, Sunny looks hurt and

confused before making this incredibly disgusted face.) The point is (she’s now

speaking as if she’s addressing a room of kindergartners), Dawn’s father is going

to be here in a little while, and if you guys don’t want to face the lecture of your

lives, then you’d better come with me to find the bus station.

Ducky: (Now sounding really impatient, which is not like him.) Sunny, I

already told you I don’t have any money.

Sunny: I can cover you.

Amalia: Are you sure there is a bus at this hour, Sunny?

Sunny: (Hesitating.) No. But there must be. Buses run al the time.

Me: (Now feeling even more disgusted than Sunny looks.) They do not.

Sunny: Do too.

Me: Do not.

Sunday afternoon 3/7

Sunny and I actually got caught up in a do-too-do-not thing while Ducky

and Amalia looked on. (Amalia was rolling her eyes.) Since I was afraid Sunny

might simply be trying to distract me, I kept my purse clutched to me at all times.

Finally Sunny turned to Ducky and Amalia and said to them, “So are you coming

with me or not?”

“Sunny, no,” said Ducky firmly. (I have never heard him talk to her that

way.) “It’s a stupid idea, and I’m practically asleep on my feet.”

“Amalia?” said Sunny.

Amalia sighed and rol ed her eyes again.

“I can’t believe you guys!” exclaimed Sunny. “All right. I’m leaving.” She

turned and marched out the front door.

“Sunny.” (Ducky sounded SO tired.) “You can’t go by yourself.”

“Then come with me..”

“No. This is ridiculous.”

“Okay. ‘Bye.”

“Sunny.”

“Make Dawn give you back your keys.”

Ducky looked at me.

“I’m NOT giving them back,” I said.

“Take. Them. From. Her,” said Sunny.

“I can’t. And even if I could, I’m not in any condition to drive. That’s what

started this whole things, Sunny.”

“You know what? You are a wimp,” Sunny said to Ducky. “You never stand

up for yourself. You don’t do anything. No wonder your friends are a bunch of

thirteen-year-old girls. Guys think you’re a dweeb, and girls your own age don’t

even look twice at you.”

“Sunny!” I exclaimed.

“Well, it’s true.”

Ducky cast his eyes to the floor. For a moment no one said a word. Then

Sunny glared at the rest of us. “Dawn, are you going to give the keys back?” she

finally asked.

“No.”

“Okay. Then I’m leaving.”

This time no one argues with her.

I said, “And I’m staying.”

“I’m staying with her,” said Ducky, trying to sound defiant but still looking to

the floor.

“Fine.” Sunny pushed open the door.

“Hurry along, kids,” said a voice from behind us. “Club’s closing.

Last bus wil be leaving soon.”

I turned and saw a guy in a blue uniform with a mop and a

bucket on wheels.

Amalia and Ducky and I followed Sunny out the door. She

never looked back at us, just kept going down the sidewalk. Finally

Amalia said, “Oh, I’l go with her. She can’t go by herself.”

“Amalia – ” I started to say.

“It’ll be okay. You two stick together. We’ll stick together. I’ll cal you guys

tomorrow. And if we miss the bus, I promise I’l call a cab. I’ll figure out how to

pay for it.”

Amalia caught up with Sunny. A moment later Sunny turned back to Ducky

and me. “You are lousy friends, both of you,” she called to us. “As far as I am

concerned, we are no longer friends.”

Well, I already knew that Sunny and I weren’t friends. But Sunny and

Ducky? Did Sunny really mean that? That she and Ducky are no longer friends?

I couldn’t worry about it, though. I was much more worried about the

stricken look on Ducky’s face. I knew how he felt, or I thought I did. He felt the

way I would feel if Ducky had said he and I were no longer friends. And if he had

just insulted me in the most hurtful way he could think of.

I took Ducky’s hand. We sat down on a low wall outside the club. And

waited for Dad to arrive.

Later Sunday afternoon 3/7

I tried to talk to Ducky while we waited for Dad. He barely answered me,

but he said this was because he was so very tired.

“Sunny didn’t meant what she said,” I told Ducky.

Ducky had found a small rock. He tossed it from hand to hand.

“She gets crazy sometimes,” I tried again.

“I guess.”

“You know about her mom and the chemo, right?”

Ducky nodded. But we both knew it wasn’t an excuse for the things Sunny

had just said.

When I felt that I couldn’t pul another word out of Ducky (even though I

could think of lots of things to say to him – like, that I love Ducky and would never

treat him that way), we finally sat silently on the wall. I remembered to remove

my funky earrings. A few cars drove down the street, including a police cruiser. A

man and a woman walked down the other side of the street. The streetlights

were on, of course, so we weren’t exactly sitting in the dark. Stil , I began to feel

creepy. I was pretty relieved when I saw Dad pull up.

Ducky and I jumped to our feet and hurried to the car. I got in the front

next to Dad. Ducky climbed in back. I noticed a pail on the seat and had a feeling

Dad had put it there for Ducky for barfing purposes, which meant he hadn’t

believed me when I said that Ducky was just tired.

Dad greeted us with, “Where are the others?”

Ducky started to answer, but I cut him off. “They got a ride with friends,” I

said quickly. “But I knew you wouldn’t want me to do that. And Ducky didn’t want

me to wait here by myself.”

Dad swiveled around and looked at Ducky. “I appreciate that,” he said

sincerely. “And I appreciate that you were smart enough to speak up when you

felt you couldn’t drive safely.”

“Thank you,” said Ducky. He hesitated, then added, “Sir.”

“You did the right thing,” Dad went on as he started the car.

“Um, thank you,” said Ducky again.

“However,” said Dad (and I thought, I just KNEW there was going to be a

however), “didn’t we talk about drinking and driving less than five hours ago?”

“Yes,” said Ducky and I.

“And didn’t you promise not to do that?”

“Yes,” said Ducky.

“And Dawn, didn’t you promise that it wouldn’t happen?”

“Yes.”

“So why did it happen?”

For a moment I was speechless. How was I supposed to answer that

stupid question?

“Well,” said Ducky from the backseat, “I only had a couple of drinks, and

that was several hours ago. I figured it would have worn off by the time the

concert was over. But it’s so late now, and I’m just so…tired.”

“And how did you get those drinks? You aren’t old enough to drink are

you, Christopher?”

“No.”

“Well?”

I was beginning to feel awfully embarrassed. I hadn’t thought Dad would

grill Ducky like this, which almost made me laugh – grill Ducky – but then I

realized why we were in this mess in the first place.

Sunny.

Lately it seems that any time there’s a mess, Sunny seems to have

caused it. And I wind up cleaning up after her.

Even later Sunday afternoon 3/7

I am so glad that my grounding ends tomorrow. I don’t think I could take

much more of this. Dad didn’t say I couldn’t leave my room, but I’ve been cooped

up in it because Gracie has been crying a lot today and Jeff has two friends over

and they’ve been running around the house like maniacs playing I don’t know

what, so my room is the only sane place in the house.

I will actually be delighted to go to school tomorrow (even though I’l

probably run into Sunny).

When Dad said “Well?” like that to Ducky in the car, I winced. Then I

turned around to look at Ducky.

“No, I’m not old enough to drink,” said Ducky.

“So how did you get the drinks?”

I answered for Ducky, since I really didn’t see why he should be lectured

by my father. I hadn’t gotten any further than explaining about the bracelet

system when Dad said, “They were serving alcohol at the concert?”

“Well, yes,” I replied. “I mean, it’s a club. Remember, I told you the concert

was going to be held in a club?”

Pause. “Yes.”

My conversation with Maggie was coming back to me, and I was glad I

had fol owed her directions.

After another pause Dad said, “So I’m asking you again Christopher: How

did you get the drinks? Were you wearing a bracelet?”

“No,” mumbled Ducky.

“Dad, a friend of Ducky’s brother just came by and asked if we wanted

drinks and then got them for us. He was wearing a bracelet.”

“Did you have a drink, Dawn?”

Suddenly I felt like torturing Dad a little. “Yes,” I said.

Dad nearly drove off the freeway. “What?” he said quietly.

“I had a seltzer.”

Dad narrowed his eyes at me. “Anything else?”

“Nope. Not even another seltzer.”

“I can attest to that, sir,” spoke up Ducky.

“Well, good,” said Dad, but he was shaking his head.

“Dad, I have to say, I really don’t understand exactly why you’re so mad,” I

said. “I didn’t drink, and Ducky was responsible enough to admit that he couldn’t

drive and to let me call you, a person who is a safe driver.”

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