Fly Away (11 page)

Authors: Nora Rock

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BOOK: Fly Away

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I signaled her to calm down, and I leaned in toward the receiver. “Stouffville,” I told him. “Stouffville is best for us. There's a cafÃ© on the main streetâ¦” Stouffville was a small town. I figured he wouldn't dare do anything to us in a restaurant on the main street.

Shona made the call to Coach Saylor in Stratford to ask if our cheerleading practice could be moved from three o'clock to six. She even took responsibility, telling Coach that we'd missed our bus and that it was her fault, not mine. I smiled at her as she hung up the phone.

“We've become quite the team, Squirt,” I said.

“Don't call me that,” she said. But I could tell she was flattered.

Benedict was at the cafÃ© when we arrived. He made a big fuss about my arm. He was apologetic and charming. It wasn't so hard to see what Arielle saw in him.

“I've made a vet appointment for Moe,” he said. “I need to find out why he would behave that way.”

“Oh, there's nothing wrong with Moe,” said Shona. “Drop the act.”

Benedict looked pained. “You ladies really have it in for me, don't you?”

“You have Arielle,” I said.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I don't have Arielle, Miss Goodwood. Arielle has me. I'm her mentor. She's staying with me voluntarily.”

“Then why did that woman say she wasn't there?”

Benedict pressed his lips together. “Those were Arielle's instructions. As you might imagine, considering the circumstances of her arrival, she's concerned that her parents might try to force her to go home. If you're her best friend, Miss Goodwood, why didn't you just call ahead?”

I squirmed. “She, uh, has her phone offâ¦” I realized how that sounded. Like Arielle really didn't consider me a friend at all.

“Ah,” said Benedict.

My heart sank. Ari really hadn't wanted me to find her. I looked down at my shoes.

But Shona wasn't ready to give up. “What about the sketches?” she demanded. “Why did you sketch Arielle's paintings and pretend that she had nothing to do with it?”

Benedict laughed. “Oh, boy,” he said. “Arielle mentioned that last night after you left.” He shook his head, as if remembering an irrational argument, the kind you'd have with a child. “My fault for not explaining to her that you can't just go from paintings to sculptures.” He said it as if it was something everybody knew. “I work from line drawings,” he continued. “That's what those were. But you're right. I must remember that collaborators need to be given credit, even when I'm just posting my scribbles online.”

Shona frowned. “Was it Internet scribbling that got you in trouble the last time? With the other âcollaborator'? The one whose parents called the police?”

I watched Benedict closely. His expression didn't change, but he stiffened in his seat.

“I'm not sure what you're talking about,” he said. “But I'm quite sure it's none of your business.” He smiled, but his eyes were fixed intently on Shona. “I should probably remind you that trespassing certainly interests the police.”

“I wonder,” I said quietly, mustering every ounce of courage that I had, “whether setting a vicious dog on two young girls is the kind of dangerous act that might make a judge rethink a bail order.”

Benedict slid his chair back with a squeal. “I don't have to listen to this,” he said. “You girls are treading a fine line. Very fine. One little push, and who knows where you'll fall.”

“Oh,” I said, “don't worry about us. We're cheerleaders. We have very good balance.”

chapter twenty-five

“Quite the weekend,” Shona said as we packed our bags that afternoon.

“Quite,” I agreed. “Shona, do you mind if I sleep on the ride home to Stratford? I'm so tired. We can talk about all this later.”

She nodded. “Sure.”

“It's not you,” I added. “You've been absolutely great. I just don't want to think about all this for a while. All that work, and we're no closer to getting Arielle homeâ¦”

Shona nodded, zipping up her bag. “And you might be right about her. Benedict's a scary creep, but Arielle can't see it. Hard to rescue someone who doesn't want your help.”

It took Arielle three weeks to get around to it, but she finally phoned me. She called on the night before provincials. Shona and Ashleigh were over at my place. The three of us were watching the DVD from the previous year's competition. We were psyching ourselves up, trying to remind ourselves how close we'd come to winning in the past.

We had been a different team back when Arielle was still captain. But team lineups change all the time in our sport. In any sport. Maybe not always with the kind of trauma that our team had experienced, but teams do change, and they go on. That was what I was thinking about when the phone rang.

“You guys can do it,” said Arielle, after I told her we were still heading for the provincials.

“Of course we can,” I agreed.

“You sound confident,” she said. “That's good.”

“I'm captain now,” I told her. “It's a job requirement.”

“You won't miss me one bit,” she said.

I paused. I wasn't sure how I felt about her anymore. “You have been missed, Arielle,” I said. “The team misses you. But we had to move on. You didn't leave us much choice.”

“I know,” she said. “And I'm sorry about my timing. But Benedict told me that if I didn't make up my mind quickly, he'd choose someone else for the mentorship.”

“I would have thought if he was so supportive of you, he would've given you more time to make the move.” Why would an honest mentor force an A-student to drop out in her final semester of high school? Arielle was not as bright as I'd thought.

“And maybe he would have helped you approach your parents. The way you did it put them through hell,” I said.

“They had different plans for me,” she said. “I know they're disappointed.”

“They had hopes for you,” I corrected. “But they never knew your plans.”

“Marnie,” she said, “why are you being so hard on me?”

It was a good question. I wasn't even sure. So instead of answering, I asked if she'd talked to Frank Comiskey. I'd given the journalist Arielle's number. I thought she might trust his account of the allegations against Benedict more readily than she'd trusted mine.

“Yes,” she said.

“And?”

“I'm considering my options.”

I sighed. “Well,” I said, “I'm here, if you need help moving home. Or with anything else. For what it's worth.”

“It's worth a lot, Marnie,” she said quietly.

chapter twenty-six

Provincials were in Mississauga, outside Toronto. It was a two-hour drive from Stratford, so I was surprised to see Liam waiting in the parking lot when our bus pulled in.

He was leaning against his old beat-up Buick, his long legs crossed in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest. When I approached, he stood up straight, shifting uncertainly. “Your big day,” he said.

“It is,” I answered cautiously.

“You didn't think I'd miss it, did you?”

I shrugged. “Hard to know what to think, these days.”

He looked at me, his eyes apologizing before his lips did. “You've been through a lot. I'm sorry I made you handle it all alone.”

“I made out okay,” I said. I looked over my shoulder. A few of the girls were filing into the arena.

“Marnie,” he said, “I know I did a terrible thing, leaving you by the side of the road like that.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” he said. He looked miserable.

“I saw you waiting at that farmhouse,” I said. I wasn't ready to forgive him, but I thought it might make him feel better to know I didn't hate him. “Thanks for coming,” I added. “We can talk later. Come find me at the lunch break.”

He nodded. “Go on in. The troops need their leader. I'll be watching from the front row.”

When it was our turn to move into the on-deck room, I gathered the girls around me. “We're a team,” I told them. “Not exactly the same team as last year. Probably not the same team as we'll be next year. But we're talented. And we're ready. Right?”

There was a murmur of agreement from the group.

“We're counting on each other. That's fine. But when it really comes down to it, each one of you is here for her own reasons. You each chose this,” I told them, looking at each girl in turn. “Nobody else can take it away.”

I looked at Shona. “Each one of us worries about making a mistake and letting the others down,” I said. “But that's a waste of energy. It's yourself that you need to be accountable to. Do right by you. The rest will take care of itself. I know we can do this. We're ready. So let's get it done!”

Our music began. “If you're listeningâ¦” I took a deep breath and ran out onto the mats.

Acknowledgments

Thank you to all the cheerleaders in my past and present: my junior-high and high-school teammates; the lovely Pickering Dolphins Cheerleaders (that's you, Kali!) who cheer on my sons' teams; and especially those wonderful women (and a couple of men) from Critical Manuscript and Goal Girls who have been my own personal cheerleaders for the last five years. You folks make Durham Region the best place in Canada to live the writing life.

Nora Rock is a freelance writer and a college professor. She's an avid fan of hockey and football, both the professional kind and the kind her sons play. Nora played high-school football herself and was a cheerleader for many years. She lives in Ajax, Ontario, with her husband and two sons.

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