2

 

My phone jingled and I wrestled it from the back pocket of my jeans. Oak Lea High School flashed on the display and my first thought was, is Rebecca okay? I had been her legal guardian the past four years. Long story.

“Corinne Aleckson—”

“Sergeant Corky.” It was Rebecca herself. “They . . . umm . . . like, took me to the principal’s office.”

My protective instinct kicked in. “Who took you?”

“Officer Dey.” The school resource officer contracted from the Oak Lea Police Department.

“Oh, Rebecca. Are you okay?”

Her voice quivered. “I guess. I mean, no. I’m in trouble. I like got suspended. Can you come and pick me up ʼcause Mom and Dad are with their classrooms?”

Rebecca suspended?

“Be there shortly.” She knew my work schedule. I was on the last of three days off and she had caught me at the grocery store. I put the two items I held back on the shelves then scooted outside to the parking lot. A good thing my red 1967 Pontiac GTO was easy to spot because I was focused on Rebecca and what in the world she had done for suspension.

At the awkward age of fourteen, her teenage ways posed a challenge now and then. What I considered mild, normal, expected rebellion as she moved from childhood toward adulthood. Overall, she was a good kid. Serious, smart, resilient, respectful. Precious.

I had graduated from Oak Lea High School three years before a larger, better equipped one was built two miles east of town. In my years with the Winnebago County Sheriff’s Office, I had responded there many times; when a student reported an abusive family situation, was assaulted, or was the victim of a crime that might result in gross misdemeanor or felony charges. On the flip side, it was also when a student got into trouble. And that included a long list of offenses. My heart was heavy as I contemplated the violation Rebecca may have committed.

I arrived at the Oak Lea High School complex, signed in at the front desk, and headed to Principal Lora Goldin’s office. During my school years, I never gotten detention or suspension. But first as a deputy and later as a sergeant, I had been called into the former sheriff’s office when he deemed it necessary. Thankfully, for nothing serious. I felt more anxious for Rebecca than the times I faced the sheriff myself. I rolled my shoulders and shook the tension from my hands.

The door to the inner office was open and I spotted Principal Goldin seated behind her desk, her deep-wrinkled face serious as all get-out when she waved me in. Officer Casey Dey stood next to Rebecca who was perched on a visitor chair. Rebecca swiveled it in my direction as I entered. Her tear-streaked face was blotchy red, and my whole body ached for her, for all the trauma she had been through in her early life, and for whatever trouble she was in now.

A snapshot of the time I met her four years before came to mind. A sickly little waif, paler than pale in her hospital bed as she clutched a stuffed animal, her security blanket. Each time that memory bubbled to the surface my emotional response was almost as strong as it had been then. I wanted to pull her into my arms and not let go until she was healed and happy.

I pushed back the thoughts and zeroed in on Officer Dey. A conspicuous frown creased his forehead. “Thanks for coming in, Sergeant.”

I nodded. “Officer?”

“Rebecca was caught vaping in the girls’ bathroom.”

His news bomb caught my breath as though I had inhaled something myself. I searched Rebecca’s eyes for a second until she cast them down to her lap. Guilty as charged. My leg muscles tightened to keep me upright as I closed the space between us and leaned in inches from her face. “You were vaping? Do you know what was in the cartridge, what you were inhaling?”

Her head dropped forward. “Umm, it was like mango-flavored mist.”

“You mean a cigarette with a mango flavor.”

Rebecca lifted her head and our eyes met at the same level. More tears sprung from their ducts. “I guess.”

It was the first time in our relationship I felt angry at her and with sheer force of will stopped myself from shouting, “You guess, you guess? Are you kidding me?” I dug my thumbnail into my pointer finger to shift my internal pain to physical discomfort instead. Rebecca had a medical history of lung problems, and she risked her health by vaping? Fourteen-year-olds did not always have the best judgment, but that should have been a no-brainer for her.

“We’ll talk about this later,” I told her.

Principal Goldin pushed a clipboard and pen toward me. “As long as you were available, we decided it was best to wait until the end of the school day to contact Rebecca’s parents.” Dale and Jean Brenner were teachers, and they’d need substitutes to pull them from their classrooms. It may not be classified as an emergency, but it surely felt like one to me.

“You’ll take Rebecca home with you, to your house?” Principal Goldin said.

I hadn’t thought that far. “Ah, yes. I will.”

She nodded at the clipboard and pen. “Sign to verify that you’re the one responsible for Rebecca.”

My hands shook as I accepted the items. This was uncharted territory, and nothing about it was familiar or comfortable. What Rebecca did should never have happened. Ever. I scribbled something that somewhat resembled my signature and handed it back to Goldin.

I knew the principal was a kind, compassionate person and recognized this was a time she needed to be resolute. The way her eyes locked on Rebecca even gave me the heebie jeebies. I resisted the urge to scratch at what felt like critters crawling on the back of my neck.

“Rebecca, Officer Dey and I will meet with you and your parents as soon as we can arrange it. Sergeant Aleckson, you should join us as well,” she said.

I nodded. It would be a huge relief if Rebecca and I were magically beamed to my car to save on final comments. My voice had taken leave. I reached for Rebecca’s arm. She picked up her backpack and slung it over one shoulder, then I guided her from the office and out the building. Neither of us said a word as we settled in my car, buckled our seatbelts, and drove away.

“Thanks for getting me,” Rebecca offered about a mile down the road.

“You’re welcome. I will always be here for you, as long as I’m able. You know that, right?”

I glanced over and caught her nod as she picked at a hangnail.

“That doesn’t mean I can always get you out of trouble. Not if it’s something that’s against the law.” I stole another quick look at her. “Like underage vaping.” Technically, since she was a minor, vaping was a status offense.

“I don’t think I really did. Inhale, I mean,” she said.

Give me a break. The old “I didn’t inhale” excuse? “You would know. The vapor would get in your lungs, probably make you cough, make you lightheaded,” I said.

“Oh. I guess I did then. Um, the third time I took a puff.”

I tried to picture Rebecca puffing away on a device. Who was she with, who had given her the device, convinced her to try it?

I had asked juvies tough questions over the years, but this put me in an awkward place with Rebecca. I was an officer of the law, but she wasn’t my arrestee. I was her legal guardian, but she wasn’t my daughter. She had adoptive parents who took care of her daily needs, who loved her like their other children. Given our relationship, the Brenners might not care if I questioned Rebecca in their absence, but I thought it was best to wait until they were brought into the loop.

“I’m not like my grandma.”

Her words came out of left field and blindsided me. Was she trying to assure me she wasn’t planning a life of crime? “Your grandma?”

“She was sick. Mentally. That’s why she hurt people,” Rebecca said.

“You’re right, what you said. You’re not like your grandma, and she was ill.”

“When I got older, I noticed she was kinda different. Like she had no friends. Didn’t talk to people much. Except me. And some to Uncle Henry when she took him stuff.”

Henry was in a group home, on psychotropic meds to keep him stable. “Your grandma was good to her brother, Henry.”

“And me.”

“And you.”

“But she didn’t talk about all the bad things that went on in her family.” Her voice strained.

Was that it? Her family’s reprehensible history was rolling around in her head and she tried to escape it through vaping? I gave her forearm a gentle squeeze. “We talked about this before, that your grandma kept secrets to protect you when you were a child, too young to understand.”

“I guess.”

Her grandmother Alvie didn’t want Rebecca to know sordid details of the past she hadn’t been able to deal with herself. She needed professional help but had not sought it, and it led to further disaster. The year before, Rebecca begged me to tell her what I knew about her family, and I felt she deserved to know the information her grandmother had withheld. At least some. As much as a thirteen-year-old could process. That memory brought on a slight shiver. Someday Rebecca would get the whole truth.

“One thing we both know, no matter what your grandma did, she loved you very much,” I said.