The Homecoming

  “Really? I didn’t know that,” she said, scooting forward in her chair. “Because I don’t want to leave Oregon. To travel, maybe, but not to live!”

  “So we’re pretty good on that issue, are we?” Iris asked.

  “I think I’m good to go,” she said. “I’d so love to cheer for the Ducks, but I hear it’s really hard to get in that squad.”

  “But I’ve watched you and you’re good. I like your chances.”

  “Thanks, Ms. McKinley, that’s really nice of you to say.”

  “Oh, I’m not just being nice, Cammie—I think you’re very talented in a lot of areas. So, let’s talk about something else, since we have time. Your best friend is Rachel Delaney, am I right?”

  “Right, yes,” she said.

  “You two could be sisters, you look that much alike. Tell me why you think she has so many accidents,” Iris said, stabbing the subject with a sharp point.

  Cammie was momentarily speechless. “I don’t know what you mean,” she finally said.

  “Yes, you do, Cammie. She gets hurt a lot. Bruises, black eyes, soreness, one day her lip was cut and swollen. What’s up with that?”

  “I don’t know,” she said with a shrug, looking into her lap. “She got hurt in cheer one day....”

  “Here’s what we have to do, Cammie. We have to level with each other before something really bad happens. I can help her if she needs help without it coming back on you. She either needs some kind of intervention to stop the abuse or she could use a consultation with a neurologist to find out if she has some condition that throws her off balance, like multiple sclerosis or a brain injury. I suspect, however, that someone is hurting her. And if I’m right, I can give her some ideas of how we can stop it without anyone being mad at her. Okay?”

  Iris could barely hear Cammie’s voice, soft as butterfly feet. “I promised,” she whispered.

  “And I promise you, Cammie, I will keep your secret.”

  “But if I’m the only one who knows—”

  “Well, that’s very unlikely. You come to understand that as years go by—there are no secrets. Not really. But that’s beside the point—if someone is hurting her, I can get around the secret part and get her out of a bad situation.”

  Cammie shook her head and her pretty blond hair swayed. “I don’t think so. I don’t think you can. I can’t talk about it.”

  “Here’s what I want you to do. Think about this for a day or so. Think about what’s more important—telling the counselor so Rachel can be helped or keeping this secret and having something worse happen. And also think about this—it’s part of my job to investigate if I think something dangerous is happening. I don’t have a choice. I have to try to figure out what’s going on.”

  “No!” she said, suddenly panicked.

  “Yes,” Iris said. “Yes—which is better than having something really bad happen. You can tell Rachel if you feel you need to—tell her that I’m worried about all those accidents and I want to know who’s doing that to her. Tell her she can come to me. She can trust me.”

  “She won’t,” Cammie said.

  “Don’t let this go on, Cammie. Will you at least think about it?”

  She nodded weakly; she looked overwhelmed with doubt.

  “Check back with me in a day or so. Let’s get this taken care of for Rachel’s sake. She’s a wonderful, sweet girl. She has such a bright future, just as you do. I want you girls to have it all, you know. A great graduation, a great college experience, good lives, friendship for a long time.”

  Cammie stood. “Here’s what you don’t get. If I tell, if someone gets involved, it’s going to be so bad. So much worse.”

  “Not always. Sometimes when someone gets involved, solutions are found. You’d be surprised.”

  “Do you want me to leave this door open?” Cammie asked.

  “Yes, thanks,” she said.

  Iris sat at her desk, thinking. She hadn’t been completely honest with Cammie. When a kid was in an abusive situation at home, the child could be saved, but usually at a great cost that would make her wonder just how good that solution was. It often meant breaking apart a family, getting police involved, foster care, all kinds of interventions that, for at least a little while, seemed worse than the abuse. Years later they might look back and think, Thank God someone was brave enough to step in! But getting there often felt like the pain was only escalating.

  If Rachel’s twelve-year-old brother was beating her up badly enough to leave black eyes and bruises, the children would have to be separated. Maybe counseling could help both the victim and the abuser, put them on a better path.

  Of course, it might not be Bobby at all. Maybe it was Sassy or Rachel’s father or one of the many other family members they lived with. But it was now beyond doubt as far as Iris was concerned. Someone was isolating Rachel and pounding her. Those situations didn’t get better spontaneously.

  She heard the laughter of girls and it was like a balm for her worried spirit. She opened her other door, the one that led to the offices and cubicles. She went in search of the laughing and, in a small cubicle set aside for her use, Iris found Krista and Misty sorting and stapling papers and laughing hysterically.

  “I must have missed the joke,” she said, leaning into the little room.

  Krista looked up and had tears on her cheeks from her laughter. “Oh, Ms. McKinley, it was hilarious!”

  “You know Butch Sandler?” Misty asked. “He’s such a slob anyway, but he was making milk come out of his nose! Totally gross.”

  “We didn’t laugh in front of him,” Krista said. “That would only encourage him.”

  “But we had to bring our ice cream back here to finish because it was just impossible to eat it in the lunchroom with that going on. Really, I thought I was going to die.”

  “Did you two just finish lunch?” Iris asked.

  “It’s my study hall and Misty’s lunch period, so I worked in here during lunch and went to lunch during study hall so we could eat together. A bunch of my girlfriends have this lunch hour so we can all eat together. That’s okay, isn’t it? Because you said—”

  “Of course it’s okay,” Iris said. “You can manage your schedule. Both of you do so much for me and it’s appreciated.” She squinted at Misty. “Did you get a new haircut?”

  Misty beamed. “Do you like it?”

  “Very sharp,” Iris said. She looked like a new girl. Not a hint of sadness or stress. She even looked more mature.

  “Oh, by the way, I signed up for the PSAT without the prep course, just to see where I stand without a lot of studying ahead. That’s what Krista did and it worked out for her.”

  “It was perfect,” Krista said. “I took it again the following year and did great.”

  “Good,” Iris said. “But let me ask you this—is the syllabus for the prep course ready for me to pass out? It’s coming up soon.”

  “All ready,” Misty said, pointing to a neat stack of papers on the bookcase.

  “You are lifesavers. I hope I’m paying you enough for all this hard work.”

  They melted into laughter all over again.

  I couldn’t have planned that better if I’d planned it! Iris thought.

  * * *

  Seth could count on one hand the number of people from his childhood who’d kept up with him after the accident and Robbie Delaney wasn’t one of them. Of course, most of their lives, from grade school through high school, they were rivals as much as friends. It seemed to Robbie that Seth got every break, Robbie was clear about that.

  Now, so many years later, Seth was trying to figure out a little bit about Robbie. He’d been seen around town regularly, going to the occasional football game, but he had a small business in North Bend and had lived there for years. Robbie painted lines in parkin
g lots and cut down trees. His cell phone number was on his business card and internet advertisement.

  Seth called him. “Hey, Robbie, it’s Seth Sileski. From Thunder Point. How are you?”

  “Good, good. Need some lumber cut?”

  “No,” he said. “But I do need to talk to you. Can we get together?”

  “What about?” Robbie asked.

  “Well, about your boy, as a matter of fact. Nothing too serious, but... Sassy didn’t tell you I gave Bobby a lift home the other night?”

  Seth heard a heavy sigh. “No, no one mentioned that. What happened?”

  “Look, can I just get a half hour of your time?”

  “I’m real busy today. I like to get a lot of work done when the sun’s shining. Why don’t you just lay it on me. He in some kind of trouble?”

  Seth didn’t answer. “You break for lunch?”

  Robbie was quiet. “I’ll meet you at the casino. I’ll be the guy in the truck in the parking lot with the line painter. I can’t take a lot of time, Seth. But if that’s the only way you’re going to tell me about my boy, we can meet there.”

  Seth went to the sandwich shop and got a couple of subs and a couple of drinks and pulled slowly into the casino lot. It was easy to see where Robbie was working—a big area was sectioned off with orange road cones and tape. The line painter was a handheld piece of machinery about the size of a large lawn mower and Robbie had his head down, watching his work, the painter chugging along.

  Seth parked outside the tape and carefully made his way over to Robbie, watching the wet white lines. Robbie finally looked up, raised his visor and turned off his machine. Seth was struck by how much Robbie looked like his dad—he was large and a little overweight. Then he gave a half smile and pulled off his cap, wiping a hand over his balding head.

  “I brought lunch,” Seth said. “I know you’re on a tight schedule.”

  “I’m painting lines,” Robbie said.

  “In the sunshine.” Seth handed him a bag. “I bet it’s a good business.”

  “It’s not like I carry a gun or anything,” he said.

  “You could, if you wanted to. It’s not as if you’re likely to use it. I haven’t used mine and I’m hoping I never do. Let’s go sit under that tree. Might as well enjoy the weather. It’s not going to stay warm and dry much longer.”

  Seth was barely settled when Robbie spoke. “Hard to believe Bobby did anything bad.” He opened the bag and pulled out a thick sub. “He’s a really good kid. He helps me on weekends and he’s easy to be around, easier than I was at that age. He’s nice, you know? Good-natured.”

  “Might not have been as much bad as a stupid prank,” Seth said as he pulled out his sandwich. “But it might be something you want to talk to him about, just to be sure. It was Halloween night and I was sitting in the dark on a street just keeping an eye on things when I saw a kid dressed all in black charge a couple of smaller kids and grab their candy bags. He wasn’t alone, he was with another boy, also dressed in black. I caught Bobby while the other kid got away. I made him give back the candy and took him home.” He took a bite of his sandwich, chewed and swallowed. “I suggested to Sassy that she tell you, get you involved in talking to Bobby, make sure he’s not headed down a bad trail.”

  “Sue Marie didn’t say anything,” Robbie said, reminding Seth that Sassy had a name preference. Robbie ate a little more. “But then, we don’t communicate very well.”

  “You’re divorced?” Seth asked.

  “Might as well be, but it isn’t official. She left a couple of years ago. She works here,” he said, pointing to the casino. “She’s a cocktail waitress. Hard work.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Seth said. “I knew she lived with her sister, is that right?”

  Robbie nodded. “Look, I’ll talk to Bobby. I see the kids all the time. Not Rachel so much anymore—she’s sixteen, got a boyfriend, does a lot of babysitting, cheerleader, all that. But the boys are with me almost every weekend and they’re good kids. The little guy, Sam, he’s only nine and a real kick in the pants, but what a sweetheart. I’m no hotshot cop or anything, but I do the best I can and those kids are good kids.”

  Seth laughed. “Like I’m a hotshot cop? I’m a deputy in a little bitty town, Robbie. It’s not a big job, it took me about four years to convince the Sheriff’s Department to hire me. But it’s my little town and every once in a while I feel like I do something that could matter. Like taking Bobby home before he got in more trouble.”

  “Hmm,” Robbie said. “What did Sue Marie say when you brought him home?”

  “She sent him to his room. I hoped she meant to talk to him later, get the drop on him if he was up to no good. But I think she was getting ready to go out or something and was a little... She was distracted. You know?”

  “Drinking? Was she drinking?”

  Seth measured his answer. She hadn’t seemed drunk and as far as he knew, hadn’t done anything wrong. “Well...”

  “It was a problem for us sometimes,” Robbie said. “We got married so young. Sue Marie is still young and pretty. She likes to party. Sometimes she can hit that wine kinda hard.” He took another bite. “Was she planning to go out with you?”

  “Me?” he asked. “No. Why would she be going out with me?”

  Robbie shrugged. “She mentioned you were back in town about ten times and said you’d gotten together and she thought... I guess she thought you’d be dating any second and she had to make sure I knew that.”

  “I don’t know where she got that idea. I ran into her one night at Cliff’s when she was picking up takeout, but no, there was no getting together. That night I ran into her, I was meeting someone. I’m seeing someone.”

  “You are?” he asked, suddenly a little more interested and slightly more friendly. “Who?”

  “I shouldn’t say,” Seth said. “We’re really new. And I don’t think she knows yet, even though I’m at her house almost every day.”

  Robbie laughed. “Who?” he said. “Someone from town?”

  “I shouldn’t tell you,” Seth said. “At least not until I put down some stakes. You have a bad reputation for going after other guys’ girls.”

  “Come on, that’s not right. It was just Sue Marie and it was high school. You ever lose any other girl to me? Besides, I’m not exactly tempting these days. I’m married with three kids even if I’m the only one who knows it.”

  “When did you and Sue Marie get married?” Seth asked.

  “Right after high school. She got pregnant with Rachel. We didn’t either one of us finish even the first year of college. Not like we planned it that way, but I was okay with that.” He got a very wistful look on his face. “That little girl, Rachel, she was the best thing ever happened to me. You seen that girl? She’s pretty and smart and the sweetest kid. Everyone likes her. I don’t get to spend as much time with her since I don’t live with Sue Marie, but we’re still close. She tells me what she’s doing, where she’s going, if she needs something she calls me. She’s everything to me. I gotta be honest, maybe I didn’t amount to that much, but those kids are everything to me. Sue Marie, too. She doesn’t really believe it, but she is.”

  He really loves her, Seth thought with some surprise.

  “You wouldn’t ever knock her around or anything, would you?” Seth asked. “Like maybe grab her and give her a shake if she’s not listening?”

  “What are you talking about? You don’t touch a woman that way, man! How many times did Iris knock the shit outta us and we weren’t allowed to hit back? Jesus, Sileski, you never hit back, did you?”

  Seth laughed in spite of himself. “Naw, she flattened me every time. Sue Marie isn’t a hitter, like Iris was, is she?”

  “Naw, the only thing Sue Marie ever hits is the bottle. Aw, I shouldn’t’ve said that.”

/>   “It’s not going anywhere, buddy. By the way, it’s Iris. Iris is the girl I’m chasing. But could you try not to tell anyone? Because Iris just isn’t getting it yet and I’m going to have to up my game.”

  “Whoa,” he said a little excitedly. “Iris? You always hung out with Iris, but I didn’t think... You know.”

  “I know. I seriously didn’t think much back then. So, you gonna talk things over with Bobby?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” Robbie said. “I don’t want him picking on younger kids—that just won’t wash. And hey, I shouldn’t have made it sound like Sue Marie is a bad mother or anything. She takes her wine a little seriously sometimes, but she’s a good mother. Maybe she’ll even think about things and... Well, I don’t get my hopes up about that. But I will definitely talk to Bobby.”

  “Tell him I’m his friend,” Seth said. “Tell him if he ever needs anything and you’re not available, he can call me.”

  “That’s good,” Robbie said. “That’s real good. Hey, thanks for lunch. It was good to see you. Good to catch up.”

  “For me, too,” Seth said, shaking his hand. “Call anytime I can help.”

  Thirteen

  After being told about Seth’s conversation with Robbie, Iris was left with very few options but to question Rachel about her frequent accidents, her bruises. Cammie had not come forward with information and Iris was not about to sell her out.

  At first, Rachel was quite convincing, telling Iris that her frequent injuries were not related in any way to any form of abuse or neurological disorder. No, she had never thought of herself as one who bruised easily or someone perpetually off balance. In fact, she assured Iris, if she looked around, all athletic girls suffered their share of scrapes, bruises and mishaps.

  And then Rachel had yet another fall and sustained a concussion. Iris found out about it after the fact—Rachel’s aunt was concerned because she had hit her head slipping on the icy walk, had a headache, then started throwing up. She took her to see Dr. Grant, who wasted no time admitting her to the hospital. But Rachel was examined, observed and released before Iris even heard about it.