Waiting to Believe (32 page)

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Authors: Sandra Bloom

BOOK: Waiting to Believe
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“Steal anything then?”

“No!” Kacey shouted back.

The detective placed his hands flat on the desk, picking up the volume, “Tell the truth now! You're part of that shoplifting gang of boys that's been hanging around.”

Kacey and Nancy looked at each other. “No! No, honestly! We've never done anything like this before!” Kacey's voice was cracked and reedy.

“Well, let's just see what your parents have to say about this. What's your phone number?” His question was directed at Kacey.

She panicked, knowing she couldn't reveal that her mother was in the store. “They're at the movies!”

“We'll see about that,” the detective replied as he dialed the number Kacey finally stuttered out.

Kenneth answered the phone. Kacey rolled her eyes as the detective told Kenneth the story. In her fear, she had forgotten her father was home. The detective hung up the phone. “You're not only a thief,” he pronounced, “you're a liar, too.” Heat crept over Kacey, and she grew nauseated.

The second call was to Nancy's home. The story repeated. The detective placed the phone back on its cradle. Kacey thought she might vomit. Nancy was white with fear.

“Tell you what, girlies. I want you out of this store now! And don't ever return!”

Kacey gulped with relief. Nancy's eyes blinked and closed momentarily. He gave them a small smile. “I'm letting you off easy 'cuz I'm a nice guy and you're probably not such bad kids. But you're never coming back here again.
Comprende
?” They nodded. “We've got your names on file now. We know what you look like. We'll be watching for you.”

He rose and opened the office door. The two rushed out. Without looking back, they turned from the toy department and ran through the store to the parking lot.

Rose's agitation was palpable. Everyone else was in the station wagon, but Rose leaned against the front fender, smoking and tapping her foot. She looked at her watch and declared, “It's 9:15! Do you even care that you've kept us waiting fifteen minutes?” Her voice was shrill.

“I'm sorry, Mom,” Kacey murmured as she opened the back door and climbed in. She saw Nancy slip the first yo-yo from her pocket, dropping it to the pavement.

The V-8 rumbled to life as Rose turned west on Lake Street. The brothers and sisters teased and chattered, but Kacey and Nancy rode in silence.

As they neared home, Nancy finally whispered, “My dad'll kill me. Especially if he's been drinking!” Kacey nodded solemnly. Nancy's father was often violent. “Kace, will you let me sort of reverse the story? You know, let me tell my dad you took the yo-yo, instead of me?” Her voice trailed off. She knew the magnitude of what she was asking, but Kacey didn't hesitate.

“Sure.”

The footsteps on the stairs were loud and swift. Without knocking, Kenneth swung the bedroom door open, letting it slam against the wall. “What in God's name did you do, Kathryn?”

Shuddering, Kacey withdrew to the far side of the bed. “Dad, it was all a mistake!”

Kenneth hurled the word back at her. “A mistake? Shoplifting isn't a mistake! It's a crime!”

In a voice thick with fear, she cried out, “I didn't really
steal
anything!”

But Kenneth was unconvinced. “Haven't I taught you about honesty and integrity? What do we have if we don't have integrity?” he yelled at her.

Now Kacey inched toward him on the bed, trying to reach out to him. “I didn't steal the yo-yo, Dad. Nancy did.”

At that, he became even angrier. “And what about loyalty? Blaming your best friend!” He stared directly into her face. “I'm ashamed of you, Kathryn Clare. Ashamed of you!” He turned and left the room. His words struck her more deeply than a blow.

Nancy wasn't waiting at the school bus stop the next morning. The driver, Al Mercant, opened the door and glanced up and down the road. “Where's your pal, Kacey?” he called over his shoulder.

Kacey had saved Nancy's seat next to her while her sisters sat behind. She looked out the window. No one in sight. “I don't know. Maybe she forgot her lunch.” She hesitated. “She'll be here!”

“Sorry, kid, this bus don't wait for no one. Gotta move on!” He pulled the door shut and shifted into second gear. Kacey slumped back into her seat.

Finally the bus pulled in front of Holy Family School. As Kacey emerged, she saw Nancy sitting on the school steps.

“I can't see you anymore, Kace. My dad says we can't be friends. You're a bad influence.”

“No!” Kacey cried out. This was worse than her father's anger. This was unbearable.

“He won't even let me ride the bus with you. He'll take me in the mornings, and Mom'll pick me up.”

Kacey could not speak.

Sister Mary Bryan was waiting for Kathryn Clare to come to her classroom. She had left a note for Kacey to see her about the sixth-grade musical, but when Kacey walked in the door, misery was spread across her pale face. “What is it, child?” the old nun whispered. The nun's tenderness brought new tears, and Kacey poured out the story.

“I'm so sorry for your pain, Kathryn Clare.” The nun offered no platitudes.

Kacey could not remember, so many years later, anything that Sister Bryan had said, but she remembered feeling safe and calmed in the presence of this good woman. She still had deep affection for her old music teacher.

“Hey, Mary Laurence! Wait up!” Kacey was heading for the big front doors of the elementary school when she heard her name. It was Sister Mary Matthias. One year ahead of Kacey, Matthias had already taken final vows and looked to become a fixture at Visitation School. She taught sixth grade, but didn't remind Kacey much of old Sister Bryan. Matthias reminded Kacey of herself. There was an irreverence to her that intrigued and tickled Kacey. A hopeful sign, Kacey thought, as she contemplated her own future.
Maybe it doesn't all get driven out of you.

“We just got a Ping-Pong table! Complete with four paddles and six balls!” Her grin was wide, revealing perfect teeth.

“A Ping-Pong table. What's wrong with this picture?” Kacey teased.

But Mary Matthias's spirits were not to be diminished. “Oh, you can laugh, but I'll bet I can beat you! Come down to the gym!”

“Well,” Kacey replied, “you're on! But not now. I just got a package from home, and I want to savor it!”

“Oh,” Mary Matthias clucked, “any food in it?”

“I haven't opened it yet, but if it's from my mom, I doubt you'd want any.” Even as she said it, she had a qualm over disparaging her mother's cooking. Rose did the best she could, Kacey knew. “Gotta run!”

She unwrapped the box in her room, tearing away the paper and pulling open the lid. An envelope lay on top, with her father's precise handwriting:

Dear Kacey,

We've managed to get something from everyone in the family for this package. It seems like a long time since you've heard from home, so here it is. Joseph's graduation picture doesn't do him justice. He's turned into a handsome young man, obviously taking after his mother in that regard. Bridget didn't want a university graduation picture taken, but she's graduating nonetheless. And you'll be taking final vows later in the summer. Big events in the lives of three of our clan. As for me, Howard Steel is retiring, so that leaves me alone at the top of the heap. He's been a good associate, and it'll be tough to find someone to replace him. I'm including some Welch's apple juice for you. I know you like it, and I doubt you get it in the convent.

Enjoy ~ love, from your father

Kacey was puzzled. She frowned, reading the last sentences again. Welch's apple juice? Not something she had ever liked! She dug deeper into the package. A folded note from Rose.

Hi, Honey. I baked you some gingersnaps. I know they're your favorite.

Kacey smiled. Gingersnaps were
Maureen's
favorite. She took the round plastic container from the bottom of the box. It was filled to the top. Lifting a cookie to her lips, she thought maybe Mary Matthias would get something, after all. But the cookie was hard and dry and overpowering in its excessive ginger. She set it aside. Maybe Matthias would
not
get anything . . . She continued reading:

Your father isn't home much, but I'm used to it. He's out solving the problems of the community and running the church. I'm fine. Thinking of dyeing my hair. I can't believe how gray I'm getting. Things are a lot quieter around here with only Joseph left, although he can be a handful. Gerald still seems to hang around a lot . . . Well, one more year, and they'll both be gone. Wonder what I'll do then. Tiny Tim is going to be on Johnny Carson tonite. Can't wait to see him! Let me know how you like the cookies.

Love you, miss you, Mom

Bridget's block printing appeared on the next envelope:

Dearest Sister Sis.

Graduation looms before me, and then the question of what I'll do with a degree in philosophy! I'm thinking the obvious answer is to go on for advanced degrees! Nah, just kidding! I believe, tho, that I'll want something in the peace and justice line. I'll bet that's what you'd do if you were choosing a line of work, as it's called. Well, another line of work, I should say. All's well with me. I'm not in love, but I'm happy. Hope the same for you.

Always yours, Bridg

Kacey's smile was wistful as she laid the note on top of her mother's. Maureen's in-your-face scrawl was next.

Hiya, Kacey.

We're all under orders from Dad to write to you tonight, but I don't really have time. Big paper due on Monday. I'm plugging along. I think my American Studies major makes a lot more sense than Bridget's philosophy major. We read such great stuff like Mark Twain, Ralph Ellison, and Edward Bellamy. It's so much fun, I may not want to graduate next year! See you at your big vow day.

Love, Maureen

Kacey lifted an eight-by-ten manila envelope with her name emblazoned in red Magic Marker. She wasn't sure if the handwriting was Gerald's or Joseph's. Joseph's high school picture fell out. Her father was right: Joey had grown into a very handsome young man. His dark curls were looser and longer than she remembered. His eyebrows were thick, almost meeting in the middle. His mischievous smile made her heart ache. A single sheet fluttered out.

Hi, sis. Here's my picture. This note is from both me and Jerry.

Kacey stopped.
Wait, when did Gerald become Jerry?

We're putting it in a big envelope so Dad won't see that Jerry isn't writing anything. He's too busy trying to figure out what to do with his life, besides follow in Dad's footsteps, which he definitely doesn't want to do. I'm trying to tell him to drop out of the U and become a priest. I think it'd be a lot easier! Father Jerry. It has a nice ring. What do you think? I'm good. You, too?

See ya, your brother, Joe

At the bottom of the box lay a paperback book:
Invisible Man
by Ralph Ellison. Kacey picked it up and read the back cover. “Ellison explores a black man's search for his identity and place in American society.”
How dear of Maureen! How thoughtful!
She couldn't wait to begin reading!

Finally, rolled in layers of newspaper was the bottle of Welch's apple juice. Still puzzled, she unwrapped the protective covering and twisted the cap. An immediate, familiar smell sprang to her nostrils. Jameson whiskey. She threw back her head, laughing from the bottom of her belly.
Oh, Dad! I love you!

The hall phone was ringing as Kacey entered the convent at the end of her school day. It was Friday, and she was tired. Only a few more days until the school year ended, and there was still so much to do. She walked past the phone, ignored the ringing. Just as she got to the top of the stairs, Sister Mary Jerome called up to her, “Long distance for you, Sister Mary Laurence!”

Because such calls were rare, Kacey felt a twinge of anxiety as she hurried downstairs. Picking up the receiver, she heard the dear, familiar voice.

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