One for the Murphys
Read One for the Murphys Online
Authors: Lynda Mullaly Hunt
One
FOR THE
Murphys
My mother had a
different way of doing things.
Officially, this is my fourth day in captivity. I have started keeping tally on the back of that dumb hero sign. One good thing, though. Mrs. Murphy has cleared some time to take me clothes shopping. In an actual store.
This is a far cry from my mother and I making late-night visits to Salvation Army drop boxes to “shop.” I remember how she’d hand me a flashlight, hoist me into the bins, and then make requests for sizes and specific colors like I was sitting in there with a doting saleslady and a catalog.
It was cool, though, how we’d go to McDonald’s afterward and my mother would hold up her ice cream as if to toast me. “Carley, what would I do without you?” she’d ask.
Back when I was little, I used to wonder why there weren’t lines of people at those bins. I figured my mother must be the most clever mother anywhere.
OTHER BOOKS YOU MAY ENJOY
Al Capone Does My Shirts
Gennifer Choldenko
Almost Home
Joan Bauer
Close to Famous
Joan Bauer
Fish in a Tree
Lynda Mullaly Hunt
Hope Was Here
Joan Bauer
Locomotion
Jacqueline Woodson
Miracle on 49th Street
Mike Lupica
The Outsiders
S. E. Hinton
Peace, Locomotion
Jacqueline Woodson
A Tangle of Knots
Lisa Graff
Travel Team
Mike Lupica
LYNDA MULLALY HUNT
NANCY PAULSEN BOOKS
An Imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
NANCY PAULSEN BOOKS
A division of Penguin Young Readers Group.
Published by The Penguin Group.
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014, U.S.A.
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada
(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.).
Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England.
Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd).
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia
(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd).
Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India.
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand
(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd).
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa.
Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England.
Copyright © 2012 by Lynda Mullaly Hunt.
All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission
in writing from the publisher, Nancy Paulsen Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group,
345 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014. Nancy Paulsen Books, Reg. U.S. Pat. & Tm. Off.
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means
without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. The publisher does not have any control over and
does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Published simultaneously in Canada. Printed in the United States of America.
Design by Ryan Thomann. Text set in Arno Pro.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Hunt, Lynda Mullaly. One for the Murphys / Lynda Mullaly Hunt. p. cm.
Summary: “After heartbreaking betrayal, Carley is sent to live with a foster family and struggles with opening herself up to their love”—Provided by publisher. [1. Foster home care—Fiction. 2. Mothers and daughters—Fiction. 3. Stepfathers—Fiction. 4. Family problems—Fiction. 5. Family life—Connecticut—Fiction. 6. Connecticut—Fiction.] I. Title. PZ7.H9159One 2012 [Fic]—dc23 2011046708
ISBN 978-1-101-57212-2
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
ALWAYS LEARNING
PEARSON
Version_1
For Greg—My Hero
AND
For Judy—Maker of Miracles
MY mother had a different way of doing things
3. Orange You Glad You’re Here?
4. Are You There, God? It’s Me, Carley
5. I Should Have Licked the Anthill
8. Wake Up and Smell the Apple Juice
10. A Genie, Fresh Rolls, and a Penguin
11. High Tops Girl from the Planet Oblivion
13. You Have the Right to Remain Silent
14. There’s No Crying in Baseball
16. If I Throw a Stick, Will You Go Away?
17. Bad to Worse to Unthinkable
31. If You’re Going to Lie to Yourself, Be Convincing
37. Sinking Feelings and Other Plumbing Problems
38. When You Care Enough to Send the Very Worst
46. The Giving… Uh, I Mean… The Living Tree
50. A Great and Terrible Thing
An Exciting Preview of
Fish in a Tree
Lucky Girl
S
itting in the back of the social worker’s car, I try to remember how my mother has always said to never show your fear. She’d be disappointed to see me now. Shaking. Just going without a fight.
The social worker, Mrs. MacAvoy, pulls out of the hospital parking lot while I play with the electric-lock button on her car door.
Lock. Unlock. Lock. Unlock.
She glares at me in the mirror and says, “Please… stop that. The door needs to stay locked.”
I love it when people use the word
please
but they sound like they want to remove your face. I stop. But I’m not doing it to bug her like she thinks. It’s just that I can’t keep still. And it beats jumping out of a moving car.
My fingers play with my hospital bracelet. I stare at my name. Carley Connors. Thirteen letters. How unlucky can one person be?
I think about my mother. Still there, lying in her hospital bed like an eggplant. I wonder if she’s conscious yet. I wonder why no one will tell me what’s happening with her. And I wonder why I can’t seem to ask anymore.
Gazing out the window, I count the trees. Connecticut is covered with them, but in March the branches are still bare. Like long, gray fingers waving us along as we speed by.
“We’re almost there,” Mrs. MacAvoy says, taking a corner faster than I think any social worker is supposed to.
I think back to sitting in that hospital bed, bunching the blankets up in my fists, asking her if they were going to send me to an orphanage. “We don’t call them orphanages anymore,” she’d said, shaking her head and laughing. Like
that
was the point?
Now I’m trapped in her car going to a place she’s chosen. After what my stepfather has done, I’m terrified thinking about what kind of foster house I may land in. The things that could happen to me.
I think of the Little Mermaid mural near the nurse’s station. How the tooth fairy gave me that CD when I was seven, and my mother let me get up to listen when I found it under my pillow at midnight. We danced around the kitchen together. She sang “Kiss the Girl” as she chased me to get a kiss. I never once ran away for real.
“You know,” Mrs. MacAvoy says, pulling me back to reality. “You’re very lucky, Carley.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
Her mouth bunches up. “Well.” She sounds like a ticking bomb. “It’s a nice home. A good placement. You
are
lucky.”
“Guess I should buy a lottery ticket then.”
“Someday, Carley, you’re going to have to realize that being angry at the whole world only hurts you.”
I wonder if that isn’t the point.
We drive up to a house the color of dirt. Tall, thin trees surround it, like guards on watch. There is a “66” on the mailbox. A palindrome.
Mrs. MacAvoy opens the car door for me. “This is a very nice family,
Carley
.” She puts emphasis on my name as if to give me a warning. “And this is the first time they’ve taken a foster child…”
I know this is her way of telling me to be a “good girl.” The walk up the driveway feels like wading through glue. I’ve read books and seen movies. I know what foster parents are like. They smoke cigars and feed you saltines for breakfast.
One, two, three… seven, eight, nine. Standing on the porch, I count the leaves on the plastic wreath that hangs on the door. The bright redness of the flowers reminds me of the swirling lights of the ambulance. I have a vague memory of my mother screaming for me and my own voice trying to yell for her. And the taste of blood; I remember that.