Chapter 11

And Busted Again

Sarah ran back up the path to her house. She had something to tell her friends about come Sunday, that was sure! She knew she needed to wait until Sunday night to tell them, after church, but she felt so impatient she worried she might spill her story right after the morning service. And that wouldn't really do.

However, before she could do any recounting on Sunday, or any other day, she had her mom to worry about: a fact which stared her in the face when she came inside. Sarah looked up to find her mother standing on the landing, arms folded and an expression that foreboded several computer-less days at the least. She shrank back against the now-closed door.

"Where were you?" her mother demanded. "It takes 10 minutes to get to the store." She lifted one hand and touched its index finger. "10 more to get back," touching the next finger. "That leaves an hour and 40 minutes at the store?" Sarah stared at the welcome mat, unable to say anything in her defense. "Well? And while we're discussing things you did wrong, why did you say we needed milk when we didn't? And finally, why did you take your backpack?" Sarah looked up then and saw the fear behind her mother's anger.

"Did you think I was trying to run away?" she asked hesitantly.

"Only when you hadn't come back after an hour!"

"I'm... sorry."

Her mother folded her arms again. "Sarah, you know that isn't enough. Of course you had better be sorry! But where were you?" The fear had almost completely disappeared by now, and Sarah wanted nothing more than to have her mother forget about everything and just leave her alone. No, scratch that, she'd rather vanish herself. "Well?" her mother asked again. Sarah decided she'd better just tell the truth and get it over with.

"There's a guy I saw the other day." She ignored the frightening way her mother's mouth slipped open, the worry and something akin to disgust forming there. "The bus goes right past his apartment. On the way back from the store," she tentatively hefted the milk as proof, "he came out just as my bus stopped across the street from him. I changed buses to follow him. He took the bus into one of the residential areas, the really nice, safe one where Alice lives, and I followed him out where he got off. He went into one of the houses and I sat on the bench in the park across from him." Her mother's mouth was completely open by now. "He came back out about an hour later and I followed him back to the bus. Then he talked to me, and I asked him some questions. Then I got off the bus." She looked into her mother's eyes and knew she had never been such a disappointment before; she would have given up anything she had not to see that sadness.

"Why? You know we don't do that. What were you doing, Sarah, chasing after some boy? Especially one you don't even know! You're 13 years old, you know what can happen. It's not like you at all," she practically pleaded. She doesn't want this to be true any more than I do, Sarah realized. "Didn't you think about us? About how worried we'd be when you disappeared? Didn't you think about anything?"

Sarah dropped her head again. It was true; she was normally much more thoughtful. And while 'good little girl' had a definite pejorative sense to it, Sarah knew the world would call her that. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't really say anything else," she mumbled. Her mother sighed.

"All right, I can see you are sorry. Go to your room, I'll call you for lunch. No sense crying over spilt milk. But I don't doubt your father will want to have a talk with you when he hears about this."

Sarah nodded miserably and walked off down to her room. When she reached it, she shut the door very gently and cast herself on the bed, thinking dead thoughts. After a few minutes she pulled off her backpack, switched off the light, and lay there, sniffing to herself.

--

Debbie McHean busied herself with Samuel's math corrections, although her mind was downstairs with Sarah. What could have driven the girl to act like that? She'd never been so incredibly foolish before, and Debbie knew Sarah had a healthy disgust for public school and the silly worry about boyfriends and girlfriends that accompanied it. She wasn't dumb; she was usually careful, almost deliberate; she generally thought more about others than herself-- her actions today were quite abnormal.

"Mommy? You got that one wrong," Sam piped up. "You X'd out number 17, and I did it right!" She blinked down at the page for a long moment, then laughed.

"You're right, Sam. I wasn't thinking about it." Sam looked at her dolefully.

"Did Sarah do a bad thing?" She frowned at him.

"Is that your business?" He shook his head, but still looked worried.

"Is Sarah in trouble?"

She sighed. No use trying to hide anything from Sam, once he got it in his head. "Well, yes. Mommy was very worried-"

"You can say 'I was very worried'," Sam whispered conspiratorially, looking at her out of the corner of one eye. She grinned.

"All right, don't be impertinent. I was very worried because Sarah was gone so long. But it isn't really your business, honey. If you want, you can go get some lunch now." Lunch: the magic word. Actually, with Sam, any food word was magic; he forgot all about his worry and jumped off his chair, his mother watching in amusement. A moment later, she heard the refrigerator door open and she guessed he was after the grape jelly.

She looked back down at the math she'd been correcting and chuckled again. He'd written 24+24=48 and she'd marked it wrong... she shook her head and decided to call Jon while he was still at the office.