One for the Murphys (12 page)

I search my head for something.
Anything
. To explain. Because I wasn’t just silent. When I called the Murphys “Mom” or “Dad” I was lying; I just really liked the sound of it.

“End the agony already,” Daniel says. “Tell her you’re a foster kid.”

She turns to me. “You’re a foster kid? This isn’t your family?”

That hurts. “Toni, I …”

Her eyes narrow. “You lied to me? About who you are? Is your name even Carley Connors, or is that a big fat lie too?”

“I’m sorry, Toni. I never meant to lie. But being a foster kid…” I swallow hard and try to count as I speak. “Being a foster kid is
just so… you can’t believe how… humiliating it is… and I…”

Daniel doesn’t look amused anymore, and his mother looks like she’s going to cry. And I want to run. But I know I can’t. I have to stand and take it this time.

“I didn’t know what you’d think of it,” I plead. “I’m still
me…
Please, Toni. You’re my best friend.”

“I’m so
dumb
!” She makes two fists. “I told you everything about me and you just…” She steps away from me. “See ya, Jane Doe, or whoever you are.”

As I’m trying to get my head around the Jane Doe comment, she spins and bolts out the door.

The Murphys all look at me. But I can’t look at them, so I study the white threads on my high tops. The last three letters in “friend” are “end.” If you take out the “n” you get “fried.”

Mrs. Murphy moves toward me, and I back quickly into the wall, hitting my head on the door frame.

I was right about being a foster kid. It is humiliating.

“Oh, Carley,” she says in that voice that I just can’t hear now. “It’s…”

“Yeah, whatever,” I say, cutting her off. And I run upstairs to the fireman room, close the door, crawl under the bed, say a prayer that she won’t come looking for me, and hope that Toni will forgive me.

For a few seconds, I even try to cry. But I can’t.

M
rs. Murphy pops her head in to ask, “Hey, Carley. Got a minute?”

I’ve been lying in bed for two hours, listening to Ariel sing about how she doesn’t belong anywhere.

“Sure,” I answer, sitting up.

I can tell by her face that something serious is on her mind. I scroll through all the things it could be. Is she going to tell me I’m going to be adopted as a Murphy? Is my mother here? Is Toni dressed as Elphaba at the front door, waiting to turn me into a gnat?

“Carley?” Mrs. Murphy asks, pulling me out of my zone. She laughs a little.

I am on guard. “What’s so funny?”

“Jack goes off into those little dazes too. I call it the Irish abyss. Always deep in thought about something, you Irish.”

I like being labeled with something that has to do with the Murphys.

“Well, Carley, I’m wondering how you’re doing. That whole thing with Toni must be very upsetting for you.”

I nod.

“She obviously cares for you. I think she’ll come around. Perhaps you can talk to her?”

“I don’t think she’ll talk to me.”

“Well, you don’t know that until you try.”

“I don’t need to jump out of an airplane to find out what would happen.”

“You’re pretty funny, Carley. But I know this is serious to you. She’s a good friend and those are hard to come by. Perhaps it’s worth taking the risk. Talk to her when you can. I bet she’ll listen to reason.”

I hope she’s right.

I eat more chicken casserole than usual. Every time I get the feeling that I want to say something, I stuff my mouth with food.

Michael Eric has fallen out of his chair for the third time and I can tell Mrs. Murphy has had it. “Michael Eric, if you can’t sit at the table like a big boy, then you’ll have to leave it.”

“Okay,” he says, jumping out of his chair. “That cancer-role is yucky anyway.”

“
Casserole
,” Adam corrects him. “You’re so dumb.”

“Am not! You’re dumb!” Michael Eric screeches.

“Well, you smell like a butt!”

“That’s enough out of the two of you!” Mr. Murphy says with
his mouth full. “I think Mom’s dinner is delicious and if any of you fellas don’t want to eat it, well, that means there’s more for me!” He smiles and winks at his wife across the table, but his forehead is covered with lines.

“Michael Eric, sit down,” Mrs. Murphy says.

“But Mommy, you said I could leave,” he whines.

“That’s not exactly what I said. Sit.”

“You did!” he yells. “I don’t wanna eat yucky dinner! I wanna play!”

Mrs. Murphy gets up and grabs Michael Eric by the arm and sits him back in the chair. He’s crying and his face is blotchy and red.

Mr. Murphy’s tone is even lower than usual. “Julie, calm down.”

She gets up and storms out. The downstairs bathroom door slams. Adam starts sobbing. Mr. Murphy stands up, wipes his mouth, and musses Adam’s red hair. “It’s okay, pal.” Then he drops his napkin on the table and heads for his wife.

Daniel says, “This is your fault, Michael Eric.”

Michael Eric screams, “Is not! It’s yours, dumb face!” I feel like I’d better get things calmed down somehow.

I look at Michael Eric and Adam with their blotchy, wet faces. “I tell you what. I’ll play superheroes with you guys if you can be quiet. And I’ll give my dessert to the one who’s the quietest.”

Michael Eric and Adam are happy about this, but Daniel says, “I don’t want your dumb dessert.”

Michael Eric’s face scrunches up and he sticks out his tongue at Daniel. I can’t ignore the hushed words between Mr. and Mrs. Murphy in the bathroom.

“You know, guys, I’m gonna go see if everything is okay.” After all, they don’t know that I’m in their category and should stay put. “Remember. Quietest gets dessert.”

“Big whoop,” Daniel mumbles. He gets up, walks into the family room, and turns on the TV.

I tiptoe into the hallway and stand beside the bathroom door.

“I’m worried about you, Julie. You’re spread way too thin with this girl. Our boys need you to be their mother.”

I hear her crying.

“Look, Julie. I like Carley; you know I do. And I know how much you love her, but she isn’t ours…”

I lean against the wall. She
loves
me?

“She’ll be going back to her own mother. You have to accept that.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“Oh no, Julie. We
do
know she’s going back…” He moves toward the door, so I move away. Then, I can’t hear what else he is saying.

Then I hear her yelling. “
Jack
…
Murphy
! I’m so sick of the world revolving around you and what you need!”

I get away just before she barrels out and heads into the kitchen. She goes to the sink, leans her hands against the counter, picks up a mug, then throws it into the sink. Pieces fly everywhere.

The boys freeze, only moving when they look at each other. Michael Eric cries and holds Mr. Longneck to his chest. Then Adam. Things are going to go bad, I can feel it.

She turns to the boys. “Hey, guys. Everything is okay. Mommy
is just upset, but everything is okay. I’m not upset because of you.”

It’s
me
.

Mr. Murphy comes back into the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything, but he stands kind of like one of the boys when they’re in trouble. A side of him I didn’t know about. “Julie?”

“Not now, Jack. Just leave me be.”

The boys freeze up again. So do I, but I can see she’s calming herself down. My mother couldn’t do that to save the world.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she says, and leaves. Soon, Mr. Murphy heads upstairs.

I sit with the boys for a few minutes before they go play with Legos. I clear the table and have everything just about cleaned up when Mrs. Murphy appears.

She has a soggy ponytail. She looks younger somehow.

“Carley?” she asks, looking around the kitchen. “Did you do all of this by yourself?”

“Yeah,” I say, worried.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, looking like she’s really glad I did.

“I don’t mind. It’s the least I can do.”

And I think about Mr. Murphy and how he doesn’t want to keep me here anymore. Although he never acts that way; he is always nice to me. I like him, and wish that he liked me more. I can’t take the thought of being sent away again, but I don’t think Mrs. Murphy would fight her husband to keep me here.

I
can’t take it anymore. The Murphys.
Julie
Murphy, to be precise. I’ve hung a question mark on her, and I don’t know what to do. Seems like I’m afraid to trust her anymore. Or maybe I want to leave before I’m told I have to go. All I know is…

I have to get out.

I pick up the phone and dial the number on the card. Mrs. MacAvoy’s number.

The phone rings one, two, three, four times. She must know it’s me.

I get her voice mail, and I hang up.

I redial. This time I’ll leave a message.

The phone rings again, and I get a real voice. Oh no.

“Hello?” she asks. “Hello?”

“Uh, hi?” I say.

“Yes? Who is this?”

“Carley. Carley Connors. I’m sorry. I must have the wrong number.” I slap my forehead. That was
so
dumb.

“Oh, Carley Connors. Of course. Is there anything wrong?”

“I need to get out,” I say. I want to reach out and grab the words back, wondering if this is one of those times when I shoot myself in the foot and can’t explain why, or if I really want to leave the fireman room, chicken casseroles, playing superheroes with Michael Eric and Adam, or sitting on the kitchen counter, talking to Mrs. Murphy. I decide that I am an empty-headed twit.

“What’s happening, Carley? Are you in danger?”

“Uh, no. I just called to say hello.”

“You did, did you?”

“Yeah. So how are you?” I try to sound happy.

“You just said that you had to get out. What did that mean?”

“Oh. I… uh… meant that I need to get out more. You know. Fresh air. And stuff.” I shake my head. I sound like a moron. “Mrs. MacAvoy, everything is fine. Really. So, how are you anyway?”

She takes a sip of something. “Assuming that everything is fine, I could be happier. Because with all the things that I have to do already, now I have to fit visiting
you
into my schedule.”

“No, you really don’t have to do that.”

“Our policy is that if a client calls, we need to make a home visit.”

“Even if I just called to say hello?”

“Yes, Carley. A child can call in crisis but not be able to tell the truth on the phone. Is that what’s happening? Are you in crisis, but someone is there watching you? I can send the authorities immediately.”

Now I worry that I’ll get the Murphys in trouble.

“Carley? Are you there?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

“So is everything okay? Are you in any danger?” She actually sounds nice.

I’m in all kinds of danger, but it’s my own doing. “No, everything is fine. Really.”

“Okay, then.” She sighs. “I understand it isn’t an emergency, but I’ll have to see you soon nevertheless.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“Hey, Carley. You called me, remember?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then. I’ll see you soon.”

Soon? What’s soon? Just when I thought I couldn’t mess things up any more, I do.

A
t school Toni acts as if she’s never spoken to me ever. She sits in Ruben’s class in another seat, and when I call her name at the end of the period, she bolts.

I’m surprised how much I miss hanging out with her. Even on the days she never shut up.

I follow her out of Ruben’s room. I must be desperate because I know how this will end. But I have to try anyway.

“Toni! Please wait!”

She doesn’t turn around but does speed up. I jog past her and turn to stand in front of her. She stops, spins, and walks the other way. I drop my backpack and move in front of her again. “Just let me explain,” I plead.

This time when she turns away, I reach out without thinking and grab her arm. She whips around. “Touch me again, and I’ll
remove your fingers for you.” She sounds angry but looks like she could cry. I’m really shocked. And feel terrible.

“Leave me alone, Connors.” She storms off, but I follow.

She pushes open the door to the faculty bathroom. I hesitate and then follow. No one is in there, thank God.

“You owe it to me to listen.”

She whips around. “Oh, that’s ironic coming from you. Talking about what I
owe
you. What do I owe you, Carley? The truth? How about the truth?”

“You’re right. I should have told you. But I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what? I told you everything.
Everything
. I told you about my dumb name and my lousy mother and my father who doesn’t care enough to answer my e-mails half the time. I never kept anything from you.”

I never knew her dad didn’t answer her e-mails.

Her voice gets louder as the hallways empty outside. The bell has rung and everything is quiet. Toni stares at the floor, and the only thing I can hear is her trying to catch her breath. “Carley, I trusted you. Every day you talked about your mom and dad and brothers. Every day was a lie.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m so sick…” She holds in her crying; I know that look. “I’m so
sick
… of people telling me one thing and being another. When will someone just tell me the
truth
? I thought you were different.” She motions toward my clothes. “Even with this hopeless wardrobe of yours, I thought you were the real deal. I thought you were my friend.”

“You’re right. I’m a jerk. A liar. I don’t deserve another chance, but please give me one. Please. I’ll never, ever lie to you ever again.”

“Yes, you’re all those things. At least you’re being honest for once.”

I yell. I’m surprised, but I do. “Fine, then. Great. Listen. You go on endlessly about Elphaba and how great she is and how everyone judges her on how she looks and it isn’t fair. You do the same thing, Toni! The same thing.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You talk about my hopeless wardrobe as if I’m wrong because it’s different than yours. I haven’t seen that show, but I bet Elphaba would give Glinda another chance.”