Chapter 20

The week was a strange mixture of Lion King rehearsals, corporate espionage, and waiting for biopsy results. I spent the mornings and early afternoons with the Jumpkids, then usually a little while with Dell, playing the church piano or just talking before I took her home. She was frustrated, I could tell. She didn’t understand why we couldn’t while away our afternoons wading at the river, or learning new tunes on Grandma’s old piano, or sitting at the soda shop in town, as we had the first week of camp.

I explained to her that I was doing some computer work, and it was very important—not as important as Jumpkids camp, but important.

“I thought you didn’t have that job anymore.” She frowned, cocking her head to one side and studying me.

“This is a new job,” I told her Thursday afternoon, as we sat in my car outside her house. The windows inside were dark and the TV was on—the windows were always dark and the TV was always on. “I’m starting a brand-new company with some people I work with in Boston.”

“Oh.” She gave me a resentful look, and for the first time ever I understood the dilemma working parents feel. On the one hand, I was excited about starting Geo Networking, so excited that even struggling along with Kate’s lousy Internet service couldn’t dampen my spirits. I was practically foaming at the mouth for revenge against Vandever and his cronies. I imagined their smug, unfeeling faces at the board meeting that final Friday, and then I pictured them finding out that Geo had taken the business they were plotting to steal for themselves. The anticipation of perfect justice lifted me a foot off the ground every time I thought about it.

On the other hand, there were Dell and the Jumpkids. When I was with them, I had a sense of something completely new, a warm feeling of accomplishment that came from making someone else’s life better. A satisfaction of the soul.

The two were like angel and devil, at war on my shoulders with my head in between.

“Dell, is something wrong?” I looked toward the house, wondering again. All week long, Dell had been quiet and exhausted, with big, dark circles under her eyes. The only time she came alive was when she was onstage. When I asked her about it, she told me she wasn’t sleeping well because she was worried about her part in the Jumpkids production. Sometimes, she gave me messages from Grandma Rose, so I knew she must be sleeping some, dreaming.

Still, I knew there were things she wasn’t telling me. Uncle Bobby seemed to be out of the picture since the fight with Dell’s grandmother, so I surmised that whatever was wrong at home wasn’t related to his presence there.

“Huh-uh,” she said, giving the front door a narrow-eyed look. Nothing wrong.

I knew if I asked to come in, she’d tell me her granny was sleeping, then she’d bolt from the car before I could follow. For me, Granny was nothing more than a large, shadowy figure occasionally moving past the window inside. Today, I couldn’t see her at all.

“When’s James coming home?” Dell asked, seeming a little more cheerful.

“Tomorrow morning.” I couldn’t wait for James to come back, either. All week, we had been talking about the plans for Geo Networking. James liked the idea of the company, but mostly he seemed relieved that I was moving back within the comfortable realm of our normal lives. Like me, he was concerned about the changes in Dell’s behavior, but I suspected he thought I was exaggerating.

He’d tried to pacify me on the phone. “Well, you know, she’s twelve years old. Maybe she’s coming into that moody stage. Remember when Megan was twelve? She about drove her parents nuts.” He laughed at the mention of his niece, who was a brilliant girl but a definite drama queen.

“True, but Megan’s always been that way,” I reminded him. “This seems different with Dell. It’s like she’s shutting down. She should be happy right now, with all of the Jumpkids excitement. But she’s not. She’s tired, and . . . I don’t know . . . preoccupied.”

“Maybe it’s the pressure,” he suggested, trying to put the situation neatly in a box. “This whole Jumpkids thing is way out of her normal realm. She’s probably just nervous about it.”

“Probably,” I said, because the call-waiting was beeping. “Gotta go, hon. There’s a call on the other line. Probably someone from Geo.”

We said good-bye and I went back to business, but in the corner of my mind there was a nagging disquiet about Dell. I looked at her now, sitting in the car, seeming reluctant to go into the house, and I felt it again.

There was no point asking her to let me come in, so I went through Friday’s schedule, even though we’d already been over it twice. “Now remember, no Jumpkids in the morning. I’ll be at church with Keiler and the other counselors, finishing sound checks and getting the costumes and set ready. Your job is to sleep in, relax, get all rested up for the big dress rehearsal tomorrow night. It’ll be just like a full performance. We’ll have an audience and everything, so everyone needs to be in top shape, all right?”

She nodded, sucking in a quick breath and widening her eyes. “ ’K.”

“And no staying up late tonight.” Shaking a finger at her, I did a pretty good imitation of Grandma Rose. Dell was too nervous to appreciate the joke.

“ ’K.”

“James or I or Kate will come by for you around four tomorrow, so there’s plenty of time to get ready before the curtain at six.”

“ ’K.” She opened the door and slid one foot out. “Is Ben gonna be there tomorrow night, too?”

“No, he won’t make it home from St. Louis until Saturday.” She looked slightly crestfallen, so I added, “But he’ll be here for the big Saturday afternoon performance. All the cousins are coming, too, and my father and Aunt Jeane, so you’ll have a whole row right there cheering you on.”

She brightened noticeably. “Cool, a family row.”

“That’s right.” I choked on an unexpected lump of emotion. “A family row.”

I went home and buried myself in business for Geo so that I wouldn’t have to think about Dell’s family row. After the weekend, the family row would be back to just Kate and Ben and the kids. James and I would be gone, and with the demands of starting a new company, there was no telling when I would get a chance to come visit. Dell would still be living day to day in the little house across the river, where Granny stayed closeted from the outside world, and Uncle Bobby might show up any minute. Dell would come over to Kate’s when she could, looking for attention and love, and someone to support her music. Kate would do her best, give what she had that wasn’t already taken by raising two toddlers and caring for the farm. As Dell moved into puberty and her teenage years, would that be enough?

After next week, the Jumpkids crew would pack up and move to another town—Goshen, Missouri, I think Keiler had said. They would set up again and lead a new group of kids through the steps of The Lion King, down the path to finding themselves. When summer was over, the counselors would go back to college. Keiler would head for the mountains to become a wandering musician, or else to seminary school. The Jumpkids winter program would continue under a new director, when they finally found someone who’d take on such a demanding job for the salary of only twenty-nine thousand dollars a year.

Life in Missouri would go on just as if I’d never been here at all.

And in Boston, life would go on for James and me. Any day now, Dr. Schmidt would have the results of my biopsy. He’d assure me that everything was all right, and I could put the trauma behind me. Realistically, I’d never need to tell James about the irregular test result at all. The matter would soon be settled, and there would be no more big question marks looming in our future.

It was a comforting theory, but I didn’t feel comforted as I went to bed Thursday night. I felt like I was lying to James by trying to protect him from the cancer question. I felt out of place, and I wasn’t sure why, because in my mind I had everything planned out: help Kate tomorrow morning with preparations for the weekend guests, go to the church around noon to meet Keiler and the other counselors, finish preparations for the program. James would be in at three. Pick up Dell at four. Get the cast ready for dress rehearsal to begin at six. Perform, go home, and sleep; meet long-lost relatives Saturday morning, assemble family row for the final Jumpkids performance Saturday afternoon, visit with company Sunday, say good-bye to everyone Monday. Leave. Somewhere in the schedule, receive a call from Dr. Schmidt delivering a negative biopsy result.

It all made perfect sense, yet I couldn’t squelch the feeling that things wouldn’t work out that way. The disturbing sense of something about to go wrong buzzed around my head like a fly, and I tossed and turned all night. I was on edge all morning while helping Kate with the housework. Kate noticed and asked if anything was wrong. I passed it off as opening-day jitters.

“I hope Dell’s doing all right,” Kate mused as we worked in the kitchen. “I know she must be nervous. She’s never done anything like this.”

“I told her to stay home and get a good night’s sleep,” I said. “She’s been really tired all week.”

“I noticed that. I asked her if there was something wrong at home.”

“So did I. She said no, of course.”

Kate nodded, frowning toward the kitchen door, as if she wished Dell would show up. There was no sign of her, so both of us went back to work. I was glad when it was time for me to head for the church. The house was too quiet, and I was thinking far too much about the biopsy result. Was that the thing that was about to go wrong? Was some lab technician, even now, holding my future in latex-encased hands, thinking, This poor woman—this will be a shock. . . .

When I arrived at the church, I was swept into a frenzy of activity that made me forget about everything. It seemed like only a few minutes passed before it was three o’clock and James was walking in the door. Onstage, we were in the middle of a disaster involving moving clouds and confetti raindrops. Fortunately James jumped in and helped us finish with the set.

“Guess next week will be a picnic compared to this one,” he joked as we arranged paper boulders around a waterfall made of Saran Wrap and shiny foil gift paper.

“Oh, no doubt.” Both of us knew that next week would be no picnic. It would be fast paced and stress filled. In a way, I wasn’t looking forward to that. You’ve turned soft over the past couple of weeks, I told myself. Need to get back in the game . . .

James must have sensed the inner dialogue, because he cocked his head back and slanted a questioning glance. “Something wrong? You look . . . different. . . . I don’t know, nervous or something.”

Smiling, I gave him a belated hello kiss. Our typical kiss, not the kind of romantic, passionate one we had parted with a week ago. He noticed the difference.

“Just opening-night jitters,” I said.

He nodded at the explanation. It was easy, logical. He was quick to accept it. A twinge of disappointment went through me. I wanted him to ask what was really wrong. But then, I didn’t want to tell him.

The back door opened, and Sherita and Meleka came in with Myrone in tow.

“We thought we better come on,” Sherita said, trying to conceal a case of real, live enthusiasm. “We didn’t wanna be late.”

Meleka vibrated in place, then spun around and dashed toward the hallway door, hollering, “I’m gonna go help Mindy.” Over the course of the week, she and Mindy had built a strong friendship.

Myrone pointed at Rafiki’s tree, which was standing in the corner of the set, waiting to be brought out later. “Twee, twee, twee!” he squealed, and then pointed at the waterfall, “Wooo, wa-wa!”

“Oh, good,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at Keiler. “He can tell it’s water.”

“He ain’t dumb,” Sherita groused, but she was smiling slightly as she said it. Her bright eyes cut my way for just an instant as she walked down the aisle carrying Myrone. “We’re gonna go practice his part.” Pausing at the door, she glanced back at me and said, “O.K.?”

“O.K.,” I replied. “Yesterday, he was a wonderful baby lion.”

Sherita bounced him up and down roughly, looking pleased. “What’s a baby lion say, Myrone?”

“Raaarrrr!” Myrone squinted, showing a mouthful of teeth.

“That’s right.” Sherita turned and started through the door. “And don’t mess up today, either.”

When they were gone, James glanced around the sanctuary, seeming puzzled. “Where’s Dell? I figured she would be here with you. It’s you girls’ big day.”

“I told her to stay home and rest up for tonight.” I checked my watch. Four o’clock. “But it’s just about time to go get her. Can you go? We’ve got so much to do here yet, and Kate hasn’t shown up. She’s probably busy getting the house ready for company tomorrow.”

James stood back, clicked his heels together, and saluted me military style. “Ya-vold, Herr General.” He sounded like Sergeant Schultz on Hogan’s Heroes. I had a feeling he was making light of my pointing and ordering the college kids around, but somebody had to instruct them. They were all so nervous, they were practically nonfunctional. I couldn’t imagine how they were going to get through next week’s Jumpkids camp in Goshen. They were a bunch of free spirits, which made them good at the artistic part of this job and not good at the organizational part.

“Very funny.” I was a little sharper than I meant to be. “Sorry.” Nervous perspiration beaded on my forehead, and I wiped it away.

“It’s all right,” he said, obviously disappointed to see me acting like the old humorless Karen. “Relax, Karen. It’ll be O.K.”

Closing my eyes a minute, I tried to catch a breath. “I can’t relax,” I admitted. “With the Geo thing and this.” I waved a hand vaguely toward the stage. “And I’m worried about Dell.” Not to mention the biopsy results. “It’s too much at once, that’s all.”

He kissed me sympathetically on the forehead. “Well, next week, all you’ll have to think about is Geo.” I knew he said that as an encouragement, but it fell to the pit of my stomach like a rock.

I felt ragged, close to tears. Afraid to speak, I nodded.

“I’ll go get Dell.” He turned around and left.

Clutching my clipboard to my chest, I sank against the wall. Get it together, Karen. What was wrong with me? I felt like I was standing on a live electrical wire and couldn’t get off.

Something crashed onstage, jolting me to life. One of the branches of Rafiki’s tree had fallen off, and Keiler was desperately trying to keep the now-lopsided structure from toppling over.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh!” I squealed and rushed onto the stage. “Somebody get a hammer!”

In the wings, Sherita was dragging a reluctant Myrone by the arm, saying, “Myrone, I’m gonna whup your butt. I told you to stay with me.”

Myrone didn’t hear her. He was busy singing a chorus of “Climb da twee, climb da twee!” And then a lion roar or two. “Rrraaarrrr! Rrraaarrrr!”

Keiler and I burst into laughter. “It’s always unpredictable,” he said, straining to push the tree back into place.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed. “That’s what I love about it.” I hadn’t admitted that to anyone, not even to myself. In spite of all the chaos, I loved this. I loved seeing the set come together, watching the production develop, hearing the music and singing. I loved watching kids like Sherita find inner joy and develop a hope that the world had something good to offer. “Maybe I’ll come back next summer.”

“Maybe I will, too,” Keiler said as we held the tree in place while Mojo Joe nailed the branch back on.

Mojo wasn’t very good with a hammer. “Hey, I’m an ar-tiste, not a lumberjack,” he said in a stage voice with a heavy lisp. The three of us cracked up.

We were standing back, laughing and looking at the lopsided tree, when the back door burst open and James rushed in, his face ashen and his movements quick and angular.

“Where’s Dell?” he said as he ran down the aisle. “Is she here? Did her grandmother bring her in? There’s nobody at the house. No lights on. Nothing.”

“Are you sure they’re not just asleep?” I asked, slowly working up to his level of panic. It wasn’t like James to panic.

“I checked inside. There’s nobody there. The dog was tied up in the yard with no food and water. It looks like they’ve been gone a while.”

“They don’t have a car. Where could they go?” A cacophony of terrible images ran through my mind—images of Uncle Bobby coming to take Dell away someplace where we would never see her again.

“We gotta find Dell.” Mojo Joe braced his hands petulantly on his hips. “She’s my main girl. She cain’t be gone the night of dress rehearsal.” He didn’t realize that, at the moment, dress rehearsal was the least of our worries. I knew there was no way Dell would miss dress rehearsal—unless something terrible had happened.

“Go see if Brother Baker knows anything,” I said to Keiler. “I’m going to go call Kate. Maybe she picked up Dell and her grandmother, or knows who did.” But if someone had picked Dell up, they would be here by now. . . .

James turned and headed for the door. “I’m going back and talk to a couple of their neighbors. Maybe they know what’s happened.”

“Maybe,” I said, the word a thin, fragile thread of hope.

For the next hour, we searched frantically for Dell. The cast members began arriving one and two at a time until they were all there, getting in costume, completing last-minute run-throughs of their parts.

My hopes sank. If Dell was anywhere in the vicinity, she would have been with us, even if she had to walk. There was no way she would miss her first big show.

James called on my cell to tell us that the neighbors said an ambulance had gone down Mulberry Road in the middle of the night. They didn’t know where it stopped. James had talked to Kate, and she remembered that Dell had disappeared once before when her grandmother was suddenly taken to the hospital.

“Kate says she gave Dell strict instructions to call if that ever happened again.” James sounded worried and puzzled. “Kate told her to call collect, call the cell phone, anything, just let them know where she was and if she needed help.”

“Then where is she?” My stomach swirled and I felt sick. If she wasn’t calling, it was because she couldn’t.

James groaned under his breath, as if he felt things spiraling out of control and the flight captain in him was trying to keep a cool head. “I don’t know. I’m on my way into town. I’ll be there in a minute.”

We hung up, and I walked to the stage, where the kids were taking their places to do a quick rehearsal of the battle scene between the good lions and the evil lions.

Mojo Joe squatted on the edge of the stage with his hands outstretched, palms up. “Where’s Dell? Where’s my girl? I need her for this scene.”

“We can’t find her.” My throat tightened. “We don’t know.” I swallowed hard, pressing my fingers to my lips to keep them from trembling. “Have Sherita stand in for now. She knows Dell’s part.”

Joe looked as crestfallen as I felt. Nodding, he stood up and waved toward Sherita. “Sherita, hon, come here. I need you to stand in for Dell’s part for now.”

Sherita handed Myrone off to Brother Baker, then walked to the middle of the stage and looked around the sanctuary. “Where’s Dell?” She gave me a peeved sneer. “The little Indian girl chicken out?”

“We don’t know where she is,” I replied harshly, not in the mood for Sherita’s attitude. “There’s no one at her house. The neighbors said there may have been an ambulance there last night. That’s all we know.”

Realizing the seriousness of the situation, Sherita jerked back. Her eyes met mine for just an instant, with a sympathy and understanding that surprised me. “I’ll stand in. I know her part.” She headed for Dell’s mark, then turned back. “Ya know, when Ma’am Beans had her stroke—that was the foster mom before this las’ one—they sent us to that Debuke House foster shelter over by Cainey Creek. Maybe Dell’s there. That’s where kids get sent when there’s an emergency, if they ain’t got family.” She shrugged noncommittally, then continued on to Dell’s mark. “But I hope she ain’t there. That’s a bad, bad place.”

I met Brother Baker at the bottom of the stairs. “Do you think she could be there?”

“I don’t know.” He handed Myrone to me. “But I’ll call and check. I know the director there. We donate bears for their Teddybuddies program.”

He disappeared through the door, and I stood there not knowing what to hope for. Seeming to sense my need for comfort, Myrone wrapped his arms around my neck, and I cradled him like a security blanket.

James came in the door, and I explained the situation to him; then we stood impatiently waiting for Brother Baker to come back. Onstage, the rehearsal continued, with Sherita doing an adept job of Dell’s part.

Just as the song was ending, Brother Baker returned, his expression grim. “She’s at the Debuke House emergency foster shelter. She was taken there this morning. Her grandmother had some sort of attack last night, and is in pretty bad shape. Her liver and kidneys are failing, and they don’t expect that she will live very much longer. The foster shelter is trying to get in touch with Dell’s uncle, but they haven’t been able to contact him, and—”

“We can’t let him take her,” I blurted. “They don’t understand what he’s like. There’s no way he’s fit to take care of a little girl.”

Brother Baker nodded with the practiced calm of a man who’d been through it before. “Let me get to work on it.” He glanced at the stage and then at his watch. “How long until showtime?”

“Thirty minutes,” I admitted glumly, knowing that alone in a strange place, Dell was watching showtime draw closer, too.

Nodding, Brother Baker headed for the door again.

Keiler came to the edge of the stage and squatted down, then looked from me to James and back, perceiving that the news was not good. “The audience is starting to arrive. Is Dell going to be here, or are we sending Sherita on?”

“Send Sherita on. Have Meleka take Sherita’s part as the mother lion,” I said quietly, feeling my heart strain between excitement for the rest of the kids and an intense ache for Dell. Whatever it took, we were going to have Dell here for tomorrow’s performance.