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Money. Before we’d gotten stopped by the rednecks, Jess had talked about wanting to buy a boat. Even after buying my prom dress, I still had around $250 in my jewelry box. I thought I might be able to manage with only $200 for the marathon expenses. Fifty dollars wasn’t much to give Jess, but it would at least help him pay for the window if those bad men hunted him down. And if they left him alone, maybe that money would help him buy a boat. It was the least I could do.
I walked to my dresser and opened my jewelry box. Inside, on the red velvet, was the necklace from Reese, but my wad of money was gone. I pulled out the drawers, but they were too small to contain that much money. All I saw were a few Indian head nickels I’d saved when I found them at the carving store.
I picked up the jewelry box, turned it upside down, and shook it. Nothing fell out.
I peered behind the dresser then pulled it out from the wall, but nothing was back there except some dust bunnies and an old pencil. Suddenly furious, I rammed the dresser back, bashing it into the wall.
Mom was instantly at my door. “Faye, what’s wrong?”
“My money. It’s missing.” I frantically opened dresser drawers and dumped out the contents, hoping I’d dropped the money in a drawer the last time I’d counted it. When was that? Last Saturday, I thought, after Uncle Stan had paid me.
“What money? Calm down.” Mom came into the room and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Now, sit down and tell me what you’re looking for.”
I sat on the bed and tried to think. “The money I saved from my job. For the marathon. It’s missing.”
She squinched up her eyes the way she did when she was really mad. “For the marathon? The Boston Marathon? You aren’t going there.”
The reality hit me like a punch in the gut. Unless I found that money, it wouldn’t matter whether or not Mom gave me permission to go, because I truly wasn’t going to Boston. I could never earn enough for my expenses in two weeks, even if I worked full-time. And for sure my parents wouldn’t give it to me. If the cash wasn’t where I’d left it, I had no idea where to look.
I looked at Mom and whispered, between sobs, “For months now, I’ve saved nearly every penny I earned from working. It was in my jewelry box. But now it’s gone.”
She stooped and picked up the jewelry box from the floor. Looked inside. Shook it. Felt around inside the lining. Then sat back down beside me, the box on her lap. “Yes, you’re right. There’s nothing in there. How much was it?”
“Around two hundred and fifty dollars. I think.”
She gasped. “What? You had that much money? I had no idea you had so much.”
“Yeah. But where is it? I can’t find it.”
“I don’t know what to say. Did you move it somewhere else, maybe? Your pocketbook? Or your pants pocket?”
She went to the closet and looked inside then put a hand in the pants pockets and felt around. “Look in your pocketbook.”
I knew it wasn’t there, but I opened the clasp and peered inside. In one of the zippered pockets, I found the wad of forty-eight dollar bills I had meant to take to the bank to exchange for tens, but that was all. I slammed the bag down on the dresser and collapsed on the bed.
I’d thought everything bad that could happen to me had already happened. But I was wrong. I should never have let go of the ironclad rule or dared to hope that my life could be better. If I hadn’t hoped, at least I wouldn’t have been so disappointed when the rug got pulled out from under my world. I sat on the bed and stared at the wall, as hopeless as a person could be.
Mom finished feeling around in my pockets and shook her head. Then she sat back down on the bed, frowning. “As far as I know, nobody’s been in the house all week.” She buried her head in her hands and seemed to crumple. “Nobody except your father.”
In an instant, her face hardened. Stomping to the door of my room, she yelled out, “Bud, have you seen Faye’s money? It’s missing.” The television news continued its monotonous chant, and Dad didn’t answer. She called again, louder. “Bud, would you come in here a minute?”
“What is it?” He sounded groggy, as if he’d been asleep in front of the TV. In a minute, he shuffled into my room, yawning. “What’s up?”
Mom gave him a steely look. “Faye’s money is missing. Do you know anything about it?”
“What money?” He shook his head, looking confused.
“A whole lot of money, that’s what money. You were in the house alone yesterday when I went to town. What did you do with it?”
He stared at her. “What did I do with it? I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.” He shrugged. “I’m going to bed.”
Mom opened her mouth to speak but then closed it and watched him walk away. The expression in her eyes was one of absolute defeat. I probably looked exactly the same.
My mind went back to Harlan, Kentucky, when my dad had been accused of stealing money. Mom had insisted he didn’t do it, but I didn’t know what to think. It killed me to think that my own father would steal my savings, but it seemed like the only answer.
Liars. They might both be lying to me. I started to feel like Alice in Wonderland again, falling down the rabbit hole. I had no idea who to believe or where to turn. Nothing in my world made sense.
Mom stood up. “I’ll deal with this. You get to bed. It’s late. But even if we find that money, you aren’t going to the Boston Marathon. And that’s final.” She stalked out of the room and slammed my bedroom door.
I locked the door, as usual, and pulled out my old stuffed bunny, the one that I’d cuddled as a child when my world seemed dark and full of confusion. Wrapping my arms around it, I curled up on the bed and cried for the lost money, the lost marathon, and most of all, for the lost child who was me.