It was a relief for Skye to return to her office at Scumble River Junior High. She slid down in the chair until she could rest her head on its back. From this angle, all she could see was the stained white ceiling. The odor of ammonia was strong today, brought out by the humidity, but at least she was spared the sight of the battered, mismatched furniture in the claustrophobic six-by-six foot room.
Skye didn’t dare complain about the conditions. It had taken a minor miracle to get what she had. In the elementary and high schools, she had to scrounge for any open space each time she needed to work with a student. That meant she had to lug any equipment she needed from school to school like a door-to-door salesman. Still, she counted her blessings. She knew of many psychologists who had it worse.
It was nearly one, but she didn’t want lunch. She was still too upset from the morning’s events at the high school to consider eating. Skye was accustomed to parents whose walls of denial went up like the force field on the Star-ship Enterprise, but the Yoders had no clue that their son was hooked on something, and it wasn’t phonics.
Even though she’d been gone from Scumble River for many years before her recent return, Skye remembered that the townspeople liked to handle their problems by themselves. Still, she was upset that Homer had refused to call the police on Mr. Yoder, and had forbidden Skye from contacting them. She rubbed her bruised upper arms and shivered. Yoder had clearly assaulted her and threatened them both.
After brooding for a bit, Skye remembered the emergency chocolate bar she had stashed away for just such an occasion. In one smooth motion she snatched her key ring, turned toward the file cabinet, and retrieved the candy.
She was just peeling back the silver wrapper of a Kit Kat when the PA blared. “Ms. Denison, please report to the office. Ms. Denison, please report to the office.”
Skye reluctantly rewrapped the bar and tucked it into her skirt pocket. Why did everything always have to happen on a Monday?
The junior high’s new principal, Neva Llewellyn, paced outside her door. She had held the job only since September, having been promoted from high school guidance counselor when the previous principal was forced to leave unexpectedly. For some reason, the Scumble River School District had great difficulty holding on to its employees.
“What’s up?” Skye asked as she stopped in front of Neva.
“It’s Cletus Doozier.”
“Junior’s brother?”
“Cousin. His father, Hap, and Junior’s father, Earl, are brothers.”
“I got to know Earl and Junior pretty well last fall. They really helped me out.” She smiled wryly. “That’s quite a family.”
Neva wrinkled her nose. “Wait until you meet Hap. The cheese slid off his cracker long ago.”
“Wonderful. Is that his real name?”
“Far as we know.”
Sighing, Skye asked, “So, what’s up with Cletus?”
“He’s got a black eye and bruises all along the side of his face.”
Skye drew a sharp breath and winced. “Did he say what happened?”
Neva put her hand on the knob. “Says his father beat him up.”
Skye closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head sadly, then gestured for Neva to open the door. She entered the office and looked at the eleven-year-old sitting at the table coloring. He was small for his age, and his feet dangled above the floor. The left side of his face was entirely black and blue.
She pulled up the other chair. “Hi, Cletus, my name’s Ms. Denison. My job is to talk to kids who need help or have something bothering them. Would you tell me what happened to you?”
“Dad beat on me again last night.” Cletus didn’t raise his head from his drawing.
She knew better than to try and touch him. Abused children didn’t like to be handled. “Has this happened before?”
“Yeah, usually when he’s drunk. But this time I thought he was gonna kill me.” Cletus stared at her with dead eyes.
Skye kept her face expressionless with great effort. Pity was the last thing this child would accept. “Cletus, I have to call and report this. Then someone else will want to talk to you. In the meantime, I’m going to get the nurse to look at you. Okay?”
He nodded without emotion and went back to his coloring.
After closing the door, Skye asked Neva to locate the school nurse and fill her in. Then she found Cletus’s cumulative folder and sat down to call the Department of Children and Family Services to report the abuse.
She was surprised when DCFS said they would have a caseworker at the school within the hour and would talk to the parent immediately afterward. It was usually the next day before they sent someone. Skye shrugged. They must be under investigation again.
After Skye completed her call, Neva came over and sat on the edge of the desk. “Be prepared. Hap is not going to take this peacefully.”
Skye reached into her pocket and retrieved the Kit Kat bar. Its smooth chocolate surface felt soothing under her fingertips. She broke it down the middle and handed Neva half. Both women took bites. The afternoon was shaping up to be as bad as the morning had been.
The three o’clock sun beat down hotly as Skye walked toward the parking lot thinking about buying a new car. She had to make a decision. She’d been borrowing her grandmother’s for nine months and that wasn’t right, even if Antonia couldn’t use it anymore. Skye’s Impala had been totaled last fall. Luckily she had walked away without a scratch.
A voice interrupted her thoughts: “Skye! Skye Denison, is that you?”
Skye looked to the left and spotted a woman hurrying across the grassy area that separated the senior from the junior high school. Oh, no, it’s someone else I should remember but don’t. She hated hurting peoples’ feelings by admitting she didn’t recognize them. It was tough to be back in her hometown after having been gone for twelve years.
As the woman got closer, the breeze ruffled her short brown hair from its smooth caplike style and played with the hem of her simple gray knit dress. Everything about her seemed familiar, but it was her expression that finally struck a spark of recognition in Skye. Her open features bore a look of good humor and high spirits.
“Oh my God, Trixie Bensen! What are you doing in Scumble River?” Skye grabbed her old friend and gave her a big hug. Trixie and her family had moved away during the girls’ sophomore year.
Hugging Skye back, Trixie said, “My husband bought the old Cherry farm a few months ago. I’m interviewing for a job at the high school.” She took both of Skye’s hands and stepped back to look at her. “How about you? Don’t tell me you live in town. You vowed never to settle down here.”
By unspoken agreement the women moved to a concrete bench along the sidewalk.
Skye sat with one leg tucked beneath her and said, “Well, I did manage to escape for quite a while. I went to the University of Illinois, then spent several years in Dominica serving in the Peace Corps. After that I attended graduate school and did my internship in Louisiana, and spent a year working in New Orleans.”
“Wow! So how did you get back here?”
“Oh, last year I had a little trouble with my supervisor and ended up breaking up with my fiancé, so I needed a place to recoup. I’ll look for another job in a year or so, once I get a good evaluation.”
Trixie patted her hand. “I’m so sorry for all the bad stuff.” She grinned. “But this is too cool. We’re together again.”
“Tell me what happened since you moved. Why didn’t you write me back?” Skye frowned, remembering how hurt she had been when she never received a reply to her letters.
“When we moved to Rockford, my parents had a misguided idea that I would adjust better if I didn’t have any reminders of Scumble River, so they never gave me any mail. They never told me until I was getting ready to move back here.”