Savannah Arrives

Here is the sixth chapter installment of my COMPLETED novel entitled PUSHING THE RIVER.  New one next Friday!

Hopper Morning Sun

Savannah Arrives

Claire* hardly ever called. She apologized on a regular basis for being a lousy long-distance correspondent, feeling helpless as she watched all of her cherished Chicago connections elude her grasp, her own ardent desire to keep them close set against a paralysis at doing anything that might stop them all from receding more and more into her corners. So it was particularly unusual for Madeline to see Claire’s name, and her pixie-of-steel face flashing across the phone screen at 10:00 pm. No way this can be good, Madeline thought to herself.

“I don’t know what’s going on exactly. Savannah sent me a text yesterday saying that Mom was acting weird, and now she’s just texted me saying that she’s not safe.”

“Oh, shit.”

“I think Savannah’s locked herself in the bathroom. I think my mom’s talking to Uncle Steve.”

“Oh, shit.”

“I know this is a lot to ask, but is there any way that you can go and pick her up? Bring her to your house? I’m so sorry.”

“Problem is I’m working tonight. Til midnight. I’m on phone duty, so I can’t leave. Let me think.”

“She doesn’t have any minutes left on her damn phone, so I can’t call her. Can’t talk to her. This is all through text. Madeline, you’re not the first person I called. I called everyone else I can think of. I can’t reach anyone. No one.” Claire took a breath and said, “I’m so sorry. I so didn’t want to drag you in to all of this. I was so hoping my mom could hold it together just a little while longer. Just til I move back.”

moving-house

“It’s OK, Claire. If Savannah’s not safe, that’s all that matters.

“I think she needs to get out of there now. Like, now. If I can get a ride for her, can she stay with you? Can she come up there? Tonight? Right now?”

“Of course,” Madeline said.

“I might have to call a cab. I might have to see if I can charge a cab, if they’ll take my credit card from here.”

“What!? That’s insane. That’s gonna be a fortune! I’ll be off work at midnight…”

“Too long. As long as I know it’s OK for her to come up there, I gotta go. I gotta take care of this.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You’re gonna really piss me off if you keep apologizing.”

“Bye. Sorry.”

At fifteen minutes after midnight, Madeline opened the door, and only then did it occur to her that she had not seen Savannah for two full years, four years since she had seen her without a heavily and carefully painted face. Even the wildly striped hair did nothing to dilute the impact of seeing a child, a very small, very young, very sad and scared child standing there. A child who happened to be seven months pregnant.

All Madeline could see in front of her was the giant-eyed little girl sitting in her big sister’s lap the night they met, rocking crazily back and forth on the floor in utter jubilation.

“Whoa, you’re pregnant!” Madeline quipped gamely.

7405094364_1524042a47_z

“Ha ha. You’re hilarious.”

“Look, you must be exhausted. We’re not going to talk about anything tonight. Not a thing. You’re going to get a good night’s sleep. Your sister told me you can’t make any phone calls cause you don’t have any ‘minutes,’ so I charged up my phone for you. I’ve got unlimited minutes, so go wild. Call anyone you want to. Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?”

“I’m pretty tired.”

“Want to just go to bed then?”

“Yeah. Well. Do you have any milk? Not the weird organic stuff you used to get, just regular old milk?”

“I still swear you cannot tell the difference in the milk.”

“That’s what you always said about the gummy bears, so ha.”

“I only have organic.”

“Do you have chocolate I can put in?”

“I do. Your sister left about a gallon of it.”

“Can you make it for me? Can you warm it up?”

“Gawd, you’re high maintenance.”

“Can you bring it upstairs when it’s ready? I gotta make a call.”

“Sure. You go on up.”

Halfway up the stairs, Savannah stopped for a second, turned part way around, and said very quietly, “Thank you, MadMad.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“A lot of chocolate, OK? Really a lot.”

A thousand memories merged when Madeline heard, deep in a hard-won sleep, the sound of faint, small footsteps coming down the hallway towards her room. For many years, John believed that his mother never slept a wink, but lay there all night doing nothing more than pretending; how else to explain that by the time he reached her bedside– each and every time for a whole childhood — by the time he got close, she said in a full, wide-awake voice, “What’s wrong, honey?” Not a drop of sleep remained when Savannah whispered into the darkness, “MadMad. I’m really sorry. Claire said I had to wake you up. She’s on the phone.”

“Madeline, my mother called the police. She reported Savannah as a runaway, and that means you’re harboring a runaway, and that means you’re gonna get arrested. The policeman is there with my mother right now. I have him on the phone. In my other ear. While I’m talking to you. You have to take Savannah home right now, or the police are gonna come arrest you.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.”

“No. Most definitely not.”

“Does this cop know about Uncle Steve? Does he know that Billie is talking to Uncle Steve?”

“Yes. He knows.”

“Does he know that Uncle Steve has been dead for fifteen years?”

“He knows.”

“And this clown thinks it’s totally OK to send Savannah back. With your mom. Who’s having long conversations with a dead guy.”

images

“You know how this works. She’s not a danger to herself or others.”

“Really. So how does he explain Savannah locking herself in the bathroom because she was so fucking scared?”

“He’s not a bad guy, Madeline. I’ve been talking to him for a really long time. He’s been there with my mother for a really long time. There’s no choice here. He’s gotta do his job. Once my mom calls the police and reports Savannah gone, she’s officially a runaway, and you are then harboring a runaway. He tells me this is a Class A misdemeanor. He tells me you could end up going to jail. For a year. So, you gotta take her home now or he sends the cops over to haul you off to jail.”

“Fuck.”

“Exactly.”

“So he is totally convinced that your mom is OK? He is willing to put his ass on the line that a pregnant fifteen-year-old is gonna be safe with her?

“Yep. That’s pretty much it.”

“OK, tell you what. You get his name, and his badge number, and you tell his ass that it’s his decision, and it’s his ass. Put me on speaker phone if you want, and I’ll tell him myself.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure he can hear you already. I got the other phone right here.”

“Great. Saves time.”

“You gotta take her home. Right now.”

“Does she know all this?”
“Yeah.”

“Is she OK with this? I mean…”

“She knows there’s no choice.”

“Well, I’m not taking her home. I’ll tell you what — if I am ‘harboring a runaway’ and am very nearly a felon, I certainly should not be putting this kid in a car and driving her anywhere, right? And what’s more, if Billie’s in such great shape and all fine and dandy and ready to be a mom and not scare the shit out of her daughter in the middle of the fucking night, she can figure out a way to get here and get her Savannah herself. Let’s see her do that. We’ll be waiting right here.”

In a reversal of events from a half hour before, it is Madeline’s turn to tread lightly down the hallway towards the blackness of the room where Savannah lays. She stands for a moment outside, but through the three-inch opening of the door, a little voice says from the nothingness, “It’s OK, MadMad; I’m awake. I know…”

“I’m sorry, Kiddo. Are you OK?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No.”

Nothing?”
“It’ ll take them a while to get here. I’m gonna try to sleep.”

“OK.”

“OK.”

“Then we’ll make a plan. You’re not leaving here unless you feel safe.”

Madeline waits outside the door, but no answer comes.

4000889153_b11c84dd94_b

*NOTE:  Name change alert!!  The character previously named Marie has now been named Claire.  Claire is Savannah’s older sister, and is Madeline’s daughter-in-law.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s