The Second Trial (20 page)

But he remembered Grandpa's words….
Having you with us
has filled a hole in our hearts. Do you think we'd tear that hole open
again if we believed there was any other way?

Chapter 9

This time, it was a knock at the door, not a phone call. Scott stood there, his face ashen, shifting his car keys nervously from one hand to the other.

“Is your mother home?” he asked. His eyes didn't meet Danny's.

Catherine had been in the kitchen, going through the newspaper, circling
Used Cars
,
Help Wanted
and
Businesses for Sale
ads. She came to the doorway.

“Scott?” she asked.

“May I come in?”

Danny slowly stepped back. He sat on the bottom stair.

Catherine motioned Scott into the living room.

“Where's Julia?” he asked.

“Outside, playing.”

“Please sit down.”

The two sat facing each other across the coffee table. Scott stopped juggling his keys and set them on the table. “We've heard from the police and the fire department. The explosion and fire are highly suspicious, and the detective suspects arson. But there's not enough hard evidence to take anyone to court. They've closed their investigation.”

Danny welcomed the words. Not arson. Good for his plan.

“But…” Scott hesitated. His words sounded rehearsed. “There's a problem with the insurance.”

Catherine grabbed the edge of the table with both hands.

Danny swallowed.

“The gas company records confirmed the explosion happened at 1:07 a.m. on Saturday morning.”

Catherine didn't move.

“Paul's agency held the policy. He cancelled the insurance. It expired at midnight on Friday.”

Catherine blinked once, twice, three times.

“I'm so sorry,” said Scott.

Catherine stayed in her room for the afternoon, so Danny took Jen to the store to buy macaroni and cheese and dog treats. On the way back, Jen said, “I thought it'd turn out better than this. I guess we're not moving for a long time.”

He stopped and looked at the condo complex. It looked different, now. It was supposed to have been a temporary stop, but now its camouflage had melted away and he could see it was his final destination, no different than the neighboring units, shabby and shapeless as houses on an old Monopoly board.

Go to jail. Go directly to jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.

Danny's shoulders sagged as if the grocery bags had suddenly filled with heavy weights.

That evening they heard their mother up and around, but she didn't leave her bedroom. Jennifer suggested they play cards, and when Danny said no, she started to cry. Tears poured out of her as if from a thunderhead that had billowed up and could no longer contain its load. Danny squeezed her like Grandma and Grandpa had just two weeks ago, a grip full of pain, shared misery, and of deep, deep fear of being forever alone.

Catherine was out of bed early the next morning, making breakfast. Danny hesitated before going down. He was glad she was up again, but nervous about what he'd see.

He tried not to look surprised. The circles under her eyes were deep purple. Her clothes hung off her like a roll of paper towels left out in the rain. The coffee cup shook as she lifted it. A pill bottle sat beside the empty coffee pot.

“Good morning,” she said wearily, “would you mind waking your sister so we can have breakfast together?”

“Okay.”

He returned a minute later and busied himself with juice and cereal until Jen appeared. They talked like machines. “Pass the milk.” “More toast?” “Strawberry or raspberry jam?” The food was tasteless and they all ate as if they had to.

Jennifer cleared the table and washed dishes without being asked. Danny and Catherine dried and put them away. When they'd draped the wet dishtowels over the backs of the chairs, she said, “Can we go into the living room.” It wasn't a question.

She sat on the couch with Jennifer close beside her. When Danny moved to sit in the armchair, she said, “No. Come, sit here. On the coffee table where I can see you.” He perched in front of them. She turned slightly so she could see both her children. Then she reached out and took Danny's hand in her left and Jen's in her right.

“Danny. Jennifer. I – I can only say this once. This is the last time I'll ever speak of Paul. It doesn't matter what the fire department or the police decided about the fire. I know he did it. When he found out we were gone, he realized he couldn't hit me again, at least not physically. So he used another weapon against me – against us. He used fire to destroy all our things. And he didn't care how reckless it was, whether our neighbors were hurt or even killed. I was his target and because I love you, you were his targets too. And he didn't care if anything or anyone else was hurt along the way.

“He's done it again. He took away our past by burning the house. He cancelled the insurance to force us into poverty and take away our future. But – poverty – this was his final assault. He may think he's won and gloat over what he's done to us, but he has
not
won.

“We won because I'm still alive.” She squeezed both their hands and held them fast. “And you're both still alive. And the rest doesn't matter. He's never going to find us, and he's never going to hurt us again.

“Susan, Julia, and David. We are winning the war.”

Chapter 10

Alice Wu telephoned that afternoon. Danny overheard her urgent voice. Another buyer was interested in that perfect house.

“There's been a problem with my inheritance,” Susan replied. “It went up in flames.”

The realtor never called again.

Danny heard water run into the bathroom sink and a few minutes later his mother came downstairs with her chin up and back straight. She fried chicken and potatoes and whipped up chocolate pudding. Danny stole glances at her, and although she looked thin, her movements showed the confidence he'd always seen when she cooked. After their plates were cleared, she explained the next day's plan.

“We'll get you both registered at the schools here. This is just a temporary set-back. Everything will work out. You'll see,” she said.

Right,
thought Danny. But he didn't have a plan anymore, either.

Friday, August thirtieth. Danny's new school was within walking distance, but Julia would have to take the bus. The yellow bus stopped right in front of New Haven. Neighbors suggested Susan just take the bus with Julia and the other kids on the first day of school and get her registered then. When Susan mentioned it to Julia her daughter's shoulders relaxed.

“I didn't want to tell you before,” Julia said. “Katie said there'd been a strange man driving around the complex. He was looking into her window. Her mom called the police and they arrested him. I was scared to go on the bus by myself.”

Danny stiffened.
If Mr. McMillan were released today, this
would be the most dangerous time for his wife – the time he is most
likely to seek her out and hurt her again
.

Susan went straight to the Watsons'. She returned a half-hour later and called Julia down. She gave her daughter a long hug. “It's okay, sweetie,” she said. “It was just a Peeping Tom.”

Susan gathered Danny's birth certificate and school records and they headed for Harry Smith Junior High. An older woman with a pinched face and severe black-rimmed glasses was sorting papers behind the office counter. They completed the same forms and the secretary handed Danny an option sheet.

“School starts Tuesday. Best make your choice now.”

The sheet listed only four options – French, Art, Choir, and something called
English Skills.

“What's
English Skills
?” asked Danny.

“Oh, you can't choose that one,” the secretary answered. “It's only for English as a Second Language students.” She frowned over her glasses, as if he were born yesterday.

How am I supposed to know that,
Danny thought. “We didn't need that option at my old school,” he replied sourly.

There was nothing to sing about, and Danny figured he would be useless in French, so that left Art. Danny put an
X
beside Art and tossed the form back. Things were not off to a promising start.

“Is there a supply list?” Susan asked.

“No.” The secretary turned her back and flipped through a filing cabinet. She returned with another form. “Do you want your son in the hot lunch program?” Susan swallowed and stared at the sheet. Her eyes scanned the paper.

“How – how much –?” she started to ask.

“It's free if you're on social assistance,” the secretary interrupted.

Susan signed the form.

Danny's face went hot and he bolted from the office. He walked home without waiting for his mother.

Labor Day weekend, the last weekend of summer. The condo complex buzzed. Julia had met a couple of kids in her grade. She quizzed them about the school. What were the teachers like? Was the principal mean? How long did they have for recess? But she stopped twiddling her hair when her mom reminded her she'd be with her on the bus. Julia scooted outside for a final fling at summer.

Danny's face was dark. He wanted to go to that school about as much as he wanted a vaccination. But there was nothing to do at the condo, at least nothing he was willing to do. He had no bike and no hope for one, no money for the bus. He'd walked Buddy two, three, four times a day, but he'd not made any friends.

He shut himself in the basement and turned on the TV.

Sunday was torture. Julia's tears turned her face into a swollen mask. Her mom stroked her hair, hugged her, and offered to play cards, but Julia cried her way through the pages of a photo album. She hauled out the manila envelope, plucked out her birth certificate, and flung it against the wall.

September first. Her ninth birthday. Danny had completely forgotten. And now he had no idea what to do. Recognize it? Ignore it?

Consider it Remembrance Day?

Fridge magnets pinned up a calendar, the bus schedule, grocery coupons, and bills. The used car ads were gone. Susan calculated expenses in a dollar-store ledger and propped the book against the cloudy plastic flour and sugar canisters. She'd made lists of things they needed: a clock radio for each bedroom, a CD player, some houseplants, a second set of towels.

“Next weekend, we'll hit some garage sales and see what we can knock off the list. It's a good time to shop. Lots of people are getting rid of their clutter before winter.”

Danny snorted.
Well,
we
won't need a garage sale any time soon
, he thought.

He was already awake Tuesday morning when his wristwatch alarm started beeping. He heard his mother setting out the breakfast things. As he turned off the alarm, dread began to creep into his gut.

He'd pretended he wasn't, but he was. Afraid. Afraid to go to school, afraid to be David Mayer, afraid of giving the wrong answer, afraid of embarrassing himself or giving them all away. So afraid that he didn't think he could breathe.

“David! Julia! It's time to get up!”

Some minutes passed. Danny heard the toilet flush and his sister's footsteps going down the stairs.

“David! Get up!”

He curled himself into a ball and punched his fists into his stomach. He thought he was going to vomit. Buddy nosed through the door and leapt on the bed, licking Danny's face. The dog wouldn't stop and Danny shoved away his wet muzzle. But today the dog kept at him.

“Okay, okay, Buddy-boy. I'll get up.”

He rose and dressed. His new first-day-of-school clothes stayed in the drawer.

His mom wore her burgundy short-sleeved blouse and pressed linen pants, but they were too big, as if her body didn't belong in them anymore. Julia sat in her new clothes, an untouched piece of toast cooling in front of her, twirling her hair around and around her finger.

“But what if I forget, Mom? What if I make a mistake and say the wrong thing?”

“It's okay, Jewel,” her mother replied, reaching across to cover Julia's hand with her own. “Everyone's going to be excited, and they won't remember everything you say today. Remember what Phil and Dr. Sung said. Give short answers and ask a question back. It'll turn the conversation away from you – and most people are more than happy to talk about themselves.”

“Will you help me today, Mom?” Julia pleaded.

“Of course I will,” she said, pulling her daughter over to sit on her lap. “We're all going to be fine.” She consulted the bus schedule and reviewed it with Julia. “And you'll be taking your lunch every day, too, Jewel – you'll have to remember it. I've made your favorite – cheese and pickles.”

She turned to Danny. “We have to be on the bus at 8:05, but your school doesn't start until 8:30. Today, let's all leave together. That'll give you some extra time to get there and find your way. I'm sorry I can't be with you…” She bit her lip.

“I know everything already,” Danny snapped.

“I just want to make sure it all goes smoothly, if that's possible.” She paused. “I haven't made lunch for you because I'm assuming you'll get it there.”

“Why can't I just come home? It's only five minutes away.”

“Because we have to take advantage of every program we qualify for. And if I don't have to send lunch, that frees up some of our money for other things.” She paused and looked directly in his eyes. “Please.”

“What about Buddy? Who's going to let him out at noon?”

“Today I have to register Julia and I'm not sure when I'll be back home, but tomorrow I'll be here and I'll take care of Buddy. I promise.”

Chapter 11

Danny ducked through the doors of the junior high. Students and parents looking for names bunched around lists posted on the walls. Shrieks and groans played up the excitement.