Untethered Page 19

  “These ‘new parents’ put Morgan in school and told her to call them Mom and Dad and basically just acted like this was the most normal thing in the world. Remember those calls I was getting, from an area code I didn’t recognize, and we thought it was a telemarketer? It was Morgan, calling me from her so-called new parents’ house. But since it was an Ohio area code, I never answered.

  “And Morgan finally figured out I might not ever answer if I didn’t recognize the number, so yesterday, she used her teacher’s phone and texted me, and told me what had happened. She told me she was going to run away, and I told her to wait until today because I knew you’d be on campus all day. I told her I’d come get her and take her anywhere she wanted to go.

  “I know it was a crummy thing to do to you, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. For taking the car, and skipping school, and sneaking away, especially after Tuesday night. But she was so upset, CC. The place was a dump, and the parents were mean. They made her share a room with the other girls, and they were mean, too. She was terrified. She cried all night, every night. And the girls made fun of her for it, and got her in trouble for making too much noise.

  “She was going to run away on her own. A ten-year-old! Because to her, being out on the streets alone was better than staying in that place with those people. And it was better than going back to the Crews. And I couldn’t let her do that. You know I couldn’t let her do that.”

  “Okay,” Char said, her head spinning. “Okay.” She put a hand on her forehead, propping up her head, which suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. “I know you’re upset, and I know you’re convinced it all happened. But it all just sounds so . . . fantastical. Like Morgan’s imagination has gone a little wild. That’s how it sounds to me, anyway. Doesn’t it to you, too? I mean, Russian kids and African kids and a new school—?”

  “If you don’t believe me, I’m hanging up—”

  “Wait! Wait, Allie. Please. Don’t hang up. Look, no matter what the truth is—and we can worry about that later—the important thing is to make sure you two are safe. I understand you wanted to help her. But this is the wrong way to do it. I think you know that. So, tell me where you are, and I’ll come and get you both. Okay? Will you do that? Find a gas station or a rest area or something and park there, and stay put until I come.”

  Char felt her heartbeat slow from a race to a jog as she heard her own words and the reasonableness of her plan. “I’ll bring Colleen with me, and she can drive the convertible back. You, me, and Morgan can come here, back to our place. I’ll call the Crews and we’ll sort it all out.” She looked at the family room couch and pictured the two girls sitting there as Char and the Crews pieced together the story.

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, ‘No’? I am being one hundred times more understanding about this than your father would have been. I’m trying to help you—”

  “I promised Morgan I wouldn’t make her go back,” Allie said. “She doesn’t want to go back to the Crews. Not after this. And I don’t blame her. And they probably wouldn’t keep her anyway. They’ll just give her to another new family. Or send her back to foster care.

  “And if either of those things happens again, she’ll run away again, Char. She told me she would and I believe her. And next time, she won’t tell me. She’ll just run, all on her own, and who knows what would happen to her. I can’t let that happen. I can’t risk it. She’s a gutsy kid and she probably knows a lot more than she should about how to survive on her own but she’s ten years old.”

  “So, what are you going to do?” Char asked, pacing now, from the family room, through the kitchen, into the living room and back. “Live in a convertible, a fifteen-year-old and a ten-year-old? Think, Allie. None of this makes any sense at all.”

  “We’re going to Florida,” Allie said, her voice light, as though she had announced they were merely popping to the corner store for a soda.

  “Florida! What—?”

  “Morgan’s mom lives there,” Allie said. “Remember she told us that, when she was showing us her Lifebook? Morgan says her mom was in jail—that’s why they took Morgan away from her. But Morgan thinks she’s out now. So, we’re going to find her. To see if Morgan can live with her.”

  “Allie, come on! That whole Florida thing is a fantasy! That wasn’t a palm tree in her Lifebook! Think about it. How is it that Morgan was in the foster care system in Michigan if her mom’s in Florida? And even if it were true, don’t you think if she were out of prison and capable of having a relationship with Morgan, she’d have come back to Michigan and tried to find her?”

  “No,” Allie said. “I think she knew Morgan was adopted and she didn’t want to interfere with her new family. I think she figured Morgan would be better off staying with them. And I think that once she learns Morgan is not better off with them, she’ll want her back on the spot. I mean, what mother wouldn’t?”

  Char could think of one. Evidently, Allie could too, because the line suddenly grew very quiet.

  “Anyway,” Allie said, recovering, “I’m going to drive her down there, and help her find her mom. And if it’s not true, who cares? I’d rather be down in Florida with her than up there where the Crews can get their hands on her and give her away again.”

  “Florida!” Char said again, because it was so unbelievable she had to repeat it, the same way she had needed Allie to repeat her story about Ohio. None of this made any sense. It didn’t sound like Allie at all, to be so impulsive, to race after Morgan on the basis of some tall tale and agree to drive her to the other end of the country.

  “You’re planning to drive all the way to Florida? Just the two of you? How will you pay for gas? For food? Where will you stay? Have you thought any of this through? Do you realize how crazy this sounds?”

  “I cleaned out my bank account,” Allie said. “I have three thousand dollars. We’re already rationing. Once we find Morgan’s mom and I know she’s safe, I’ll come home.”

  “And if you don’t find her?”

  “I’ll get a job,” Allie said, as though it were the obvious answer.

  Char cursed the initiative that Bradley had been so proud of in his daughter. It was still a crazy, impulsive thing that Allie was doing, but she might just be able to pull it off. She was responsible enough to have saved three thousand dollars in the first place, and she was resourceful enough to make it last for a long time. Long enough to cross several state lines, which Char was certain would add to the list of crimes the teenager might be tried for, convicted of, and, if Char’s worst fears came true, sent to prison for.

  “Allie,” she said, her voice a whispered plea. “Please. This is crazy. You’re going to be in so much trouble—”

  “Oh! Here comes Morgan,” Allie said. “I don’t want to talk about any of this in front of her. She’s upset enough.”

  “Wait! Let’s—”

  “Got to go,” Allie said.

  And she was gone.

  Thirty

  Char was backing out of the garage to head for the Crews’ house when her phone rang. She answered without looking at the screen, hoping it was Allie again.

  “Hello, Charlotte.”

  Lindy. Char winced, and realized how Kate must have felt accidentally answering her call. She considered hanging up. She could claim “dropped call” later, when she had thought of a way to tell Lindy where her daughter was.

  “Oh, Lindy,” she said, before she could work up the nerve to press the “end call” button. “How’s everything in California?”

  “As busy as ever,” Lindy said. “Listen, I’ve been trying to reach Allie. She’s not answering, and I’m starting to lose patience.”

  “Um . . .” Char struggled to think of an answer. “She doesn’t have her phone with her. It’s . . . in her locker. She’s at school. For soccer. Practices have been going late these days. Until after six.”
>
  “Well, could you have her call me when she gets home?”

  “Uh . . .”

  “I hate to ask you to be her secretary,” Lindy said. “The truth is, I’ve called her several times since she left California and she hasn’t called back. Unless I happen to catch her off guard, I don’t get to speak with her. She seems to be upset with me.”

  “Um . . .”

  “Kids,” Lindy said. “They think they’re the center of the universe, don’t they? It doesn’t occur to them that parents have to work, and can’t sit home entertaining them all day.”

  “Uh-huh . . .”

  “Anyway, if you could ask her. Practice goes until—what time, did you say? A little after six?”

  “Well . . .”

  “So, she should be home and ready to talk to her dear mother around six thirty. That’s three thirty here. I’ll make sure I’m available. Tell her I’m looking forward to hearing from her then. Thanks, Charlotte. Oh, there’s my other line . . .”

  • • •

  Dave Crew answered the door. When he saw Char, he frowned. “I was hoping you would take my words to heart and not make things more difficult for—”

  “I’ve just heard from Allie,” Char said. “She’s with Morgan. Evidently, the girls were in contact by text, and Allie drove to Toledo today to pick Morgan up.”

  “To pick her up?” he asked. He swiveled his head to look over his shoulder, into the house, then turned back to Char. “Are they driving back here?”

  “Is Sarah here?” Char asked, as she craned her neck to look past him. “Because I think she’ll want to hear . . .” The scene behind Dave rendered her unable to continue.

  In fact, if Dave Crew hadn’t been standing in front of her in the doorway, she would have thought she was at the wrong house. The hall table was littered with leaning stacks of unopened mail and dirty dishes. Beneath the table, the rubber tray that used to house the family’s neatly paired shoes was filled with dirt and broken pottery, the leaves of some kind of house plant peeking through the rubble. Beside the mat, a woman’s purse lay open on its side. A lipstick had rolled out and now lay in the soil.

  Beyond the table, someone had upended a laundry basket and a trail of Stevie-sized underwear, jeans, and socks led from the basket to the bottom of the staircase. The stairs themselves were so covered in action figures and plastic vehicles that Char wondered if the boy had dumped his entire toy box at the top and watched everything tumble down.

  “No, she’s not,” Dave said. He stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind him. “She’s out getting groceries. She left about five minutes ago, so she’ll be a while. Otherwise, I’d invite you to wait.”

  It looked like Sarah had been gone for five weeks, not five minutes. The Sarah Crew she knew wouldn’t stand for such a mess.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “I need to get home and make some calls anyway. I’m trying to convince Allie to come back. I’m not sure it’ll work.”

  “So, they’re not headed here, then?”

  “No. They’re headed for Florida. Morgan claims her mother lives there. She told us that months ago, actually. But now she’s added the fact that her mom’s been in jail down there all this time, and she might be out now, and she might want Morgan to live with her.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” he said.

  “From your reaction, I can guess it’s not true.”

  “Not remotely.”

  “Then I guess it’s safe to assume the rest of her story isn’t true, either,” Char said. “She told Allie that you drove her to Ohio and gave her away to complete strangers, because you and Sarah don’t want her anymore.”

  Dave leaned against the door and ran a hand through his hair. “My God,” he said.

  “She was going to run away,” Char continued. “She texted Allie to let her know, and evidently, Allie talked her into waiting until today. I teach all day on Thursdays, so Allie knew she had a big window of time to take the convertible and get some significant miles behind her before I got home and discovered she was gone. She drove to Toledo, picked up Morgan, and now they’re headed down to Florida in search of Morgan’s mother.”

  Dave was quiet for some time, and then he said, “I’m so sorry about this. Morgan has an imagination like no one I’ve ever met. And she’s dragged Allie along for the ride this time. Literally.”

  “Allie’s convinced it’s true.”

  “Morgan can be extremely convincing,” he said.

  “So, the people in Toledo . . . ?” Char said.

  “Sarah’s aunt and uncle, like I told you and Allie. They were giving Sarah and me a little . . . respite.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked over Char’s shoulder, across the street. He seemed to be considering whether he should say more.

  “Look,” he finally said. “We’re both embarrassed to admit it, but we need breaks from Morgan from time to time. We don’t feel that way about Stevie, which maybe sounds horrible. But the truth is, sometimes we need a few days away from her.”

  “So, you pulled her out of school?” Char asked. “For two weeks?”

  “We didn’t think it would make that much of a difference to her, honestly. She’s this close to being held back as it is. We weighed our sanity against her missing a bit of school, and we decided our well-being was more important. Maybe you think that makes us terrible parents. But we have another child to consider. And our marriage. We did what we thought we had to do.”

  “This aunt and uncle,” Char said, “do they have other kids? Someone from Russia, maybe, or Africa? Morgan told Allie there were two other girls there. She called them her new sisters. She told Allie she had been put into school in Ohio. That she was told to call this couple Mom and Dad. That—”

  “Wow,” Dave said, “this really is one of her better tales. Or worst, I guess. Her most colorful, certainly. I’m afraid Allie’s been hoodwinked.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Char said. “Although only partly. Allie seems pretty convinced. I reminded her about Morgan’s history of, you know, tall tales, but she wasn’t having it. I’ll call her back now and tell her we’ve spoken, and that it’s all made up. Hopefully, that will make her turn the car around immediately. If it doesn’t, I’ll have to consider what to do next.” She extended an arm toward him. “We’ll have to consider it, I mean. Your daughter’s involved, too.”

  “I feel entirely responsible for this,” Dave said. “If Allie doesn’t change her mind after you tell her we’ve talked, I’ll get in the car and go after them. You can keep working on her by phone, and when you finally convince her, she can just pull over and wait for me to get to her. I can take a neighbor with me, to drive your car back. They’ve got a head start, obviously, but I’m guessing they’ll stop for the night. I’ll fill a couple of thermoses with coffee and the two of us can take turns driving.”

  “I don’t know,” Char said. “I think I might just head out myself. I can talk to her while I’m driving.”

  She wasn’t sure about Dave Crew. He had already lied to her once, and he seemed more upset with Morgan’s tall tale than he was about his own role in the situation. Shipping a former foster child off for two weeks? In what universe could that be okay? Plus, Allie barely knew the man, and the fact that Morgan was telling such lies about him meant she couldn’t be happy with him right now. If he did find the girls, what would the drive home be like?

  Dave moved his hand to the doorknob. “We don’t need to decide now,” he said. “See if you can get her to turn back. If she will, have her come straight here. I don’t want you to have to deal with Morgan. I’m sure she’ll be quite fired up over this little . . . adventure she’s sucked Allie into.

  “And if she won’t turn around, then we can debate who should go after them.” He turned to the door, pushed it open, and took a step inside before turning back to her. “Oh, when you s
peak with her again, see if you can get her to confirm they’re on I-75. That’s the easiest way—straight shot to Florida—so I would think that’s the one they’d pick. But she might be staying off the interstate.”

  “I hadn’t even considered she might take a different route,” Char said, and cold tendrils wound through her chest at the thought of Allie and Morgan breaking down on some dirt road in rural Kentucky. “I need to go,” she said. “Home, I mean. To call Allie again.” And to pack up some things to take with me for a long drive, in case she still refuses to turn around, she thought. “Let me go do that, and I’ll be in touch.”

  Dave nodded. “Sounds good,” he said, and closed the door. Char smiled. Let him sit at home waiting for her to call him back to discuss who should go after the girls. By the time he heard from her again, she’d be fifty miles down the highway.

  Thirty-one

  It’s a lie,” Allie said, when Char finally reached her by phone again, close to seven o’clock.

  “Allie, come on. Do you really think that the person lying in this situation is the father we know to be responsible, law-abiding, and God-fearing? Or is it the child we know to be a wild storyteller?”

  “I really can’t get into it right now,” Allie said.

  “Is Morgan with you?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, can you pull over someplace and get out of the car so we can discuss this?”

  “I can’t just pull over, Char. People are going, like, eighty on I-75 and I’m in the middle lane. You want me veering over two lanes to the exit?”

  “No. Of course not. But get off the highway as soon as you can and call me back.”

  “For what? So you can try to convince me? It’s not going to work. I don’t believe it. I won’t. I believe . . . the other.”

  “Allie, please. Be reasonable. It’s getting late. It’s not safe, what you’re doing. You can’t drive all that way without a break.”