Ellen sent another impatient text just as the two girls spilled out of the front door of their apartment building, chatting and laughing. They looked like they’d just stepped out of a tampon commercial. Fun, active, adventurous young women without a care in the world. Both fell silent when they spotted her BMW.
Youth is wasted on the young, she thought. An overused adage, yet so true.
The girls piled into the car, Jamie in front, Lisa in back, as though they’d already discussed seating arrangements.
“Good morning, Mayor Salder,” said Jamie brightly.
Such a polite young woman, thought Ellen. A little rough around the edges, but at least she had manners. “Good morning, girls,” she said, as she put the vehicle into drive. “How does Screen Door sound?”
Lisa snorted from the back seat. “Great, but we’ll never get a table.”
“Don’t worry, dear, it won’t be a problem.” She turned the radio to a classical station, setting the volume just loud enough to discourage conversation. There’d be time enough for talk at the restaurant. As she drove, her mind wandered to another drive, on a winding mountain road far from the congested streets of Portland.
***
The boarding school was located just three hours east of the city, though it felt a world away. The last leg of the journey required navigating hairpin turns through miles of state forest roads. Dizzying glimpses of Mount Hood loomed unexpectedly around sharp corners, and Ellen’s stomach twisted nervously with each curve. She couldn’t deny that part of the upset was anxiety at seeing her daughter for the first time in months. Her campaign for mayor was going well, and with her polling numbers looking solid, she’d finally had time for the trip. Ben had asked to join her. Ellen refused, feeling it best that she visit alone. She had a decision to make. His presence wouldn’t help matters. And, she no longer trusted Ben after how he’d betrayed her.
The GPS announced her arrival, and she pulled up to a security gate and gave her name. The guard directed her to the guest lot. She parked and inspected the scene.
The lot was situated slightly above the small valley where the school sat, and it offered a panorama of the entire campus. She recalled the basic layout from the materials she’d received after first inquiring about the school. She’d spotted the ad in Sunset Magazine on a flight to Los Angeles. “Lost Lake Academy for Troubled Youth,” it had read above a color photo of smiling boys and girls being guided by responsible-looking adults. She remembered the moment clearly. She’d ripped the page out and leaned back in her seat, fantasizing about handing over the responsibility of Lisa to competent professionals.
Deep in her heart of hearts, where she rarely went, she hid a truth she’d never admitted to anyone. Not her husband, not even her therapist. Ellen had never really wanted children. The mere thought of having a child made her feel trapped. She remembered babysitting as a teenager and being so infinitely bored by the repetitive games, the constant necessity of care. But her husband had wanted children so badly and he finally convinced her. Ben even promised he’d dedicate himself to raising them. After all, it was what everyone expected. It wasn’t normal to not have children. She’d never succeed at her political ambitions if she weren’t a mother. The pundits would call her mannish, selfish, and unwomanly.
Throughout her pregnancy, she worked just as hard, was just as driven, and she made partner at her law firm the day before her water broke. Despite her misgivings, when she finally held Lisa in her arms after nine months of nausea, bizarre cravings, an aching back, and twenty hours of labor, she’d immediately felt a fierce protective instinct, knowing she’d give up her own life for her daughter’s.
Good to his word, Ben took an extended leave from his law firm to raise Lisa, only going back to work after she was in grade school. And what a mess he’d made of it. No discipline, no repercussions for any mischief or misdeeds. He always took Lisa’s side, defending every broken rule as an expression of creativity, saying that she was simply pushing boundaries.
Sometimes Ellen woke late at night and knew she’d made the wrong decision. Maybe her husband was right. Maybe Lisa should come home. Then she’d get up in the morning, and during her day, something would remind her why she’d made her choice. A motorcycle roaring by on the freeway would trigger a memory—Lisa driving away on the back of her boyfriend’s bike the day she’d returned home from rehab. Ellen had been so angry. She’d screamed at Lisa that she was ruining her life, throwing it all away on boys, drinking, and drugs. She’d felt the eyes of the entire neighborhood watching their family drama play out. Ben didn’t help. He kept on repeating that it was just a phase, that it would pass, and Lisa was a good girl, capable of great things. Lisa just needed to know that they both believed in her. Ellen didn’t agree.
Then Lisa stole Ellen’s car. The girl wouldn’t answer her cell phone, and Ellen had no choice but to call the police. Lisa, her boyfriend, and a hitchhiker they’d picked up were finally arrested just outside Eugene. Her daughter spent a night in juvenile hall. What really took years off Ellen’s life was that the hitchhiker was a known felon, wanted for assault. She called the Academy the next day and put down a deposit.
Ellen looked over the valley. The massive hulk of Mount Hood was reflected in the crystal blue lake at the far end of campus. She could see a group of teenagers playing on a sliver of golden beach and a wooden dock that extended out into the lake. She wondered if Lisa could be among them, enjoying the beautiful sunny day.
Situated on either side of the lake were the co-ed dorms, with beds for fifty girls and fifty boys. She wondered how Lisa was doing sharing a room. Ellen thought of the easy, privileged life she’d given her daughter. She hoped the girl had finally learned to appreciate it, now that it was out of reach.
Closer in sat a cluster of classrooms, the gymnasium, a baseball diamond, and tennis courts. Finally, her eyes rested appreciatively on the massive lodge described in the literature as “the heart of the school, where students gather to share their dreams and hopes for the future.” It reminded her of a set of Lincoln Logs that Lisa had played with during happier times. Ellen imagined pushing the building aside, and seeing the logs spill out over the brilliant green carpet of the old-growth forest that bordered the grounds.
Ellen opened the car door. When she’d left the city, the temperature had been in the mid-eighties, so she was surprised to find the air outside was crisp and smelled of pine with whispers of wood smoke. She grabbed a cardigan from the passenger seat and pulled it on as she walked across the lot toward the lodge.
Something caught her eye. Ellen followed the line of a high fence that she’d passed through when entering the parking lot, and saw it extended all around the property. It was topped with razor wire and had video cameras positioned at key vantage points. She felt a sense of déjà vu. She shrugged it off and continued on her way. Suddenly she realized the source of the feeling. She’d taken a tour of a state-of-the-art minimum-security penitentiary a few months ago. The facility had a similar fence and the same type of camera. The school was nothing like that, she told herself. Surely, the fence was as much to keep people out as to keep the children in. She felt a small twinge of nausea but convinced herself it was simply from the drive.
Ellen walked from the parking lot down a wide gravel path toward the lodge entrance. She pulled open the heavy wooden door and stepped into a great room with soaring beams and leaded windows. An entire wall was given over to a massive fireplace of rough-hewn stone. Throughout the room, leather sofas and armchairs were grouped companionably around craftsman coffee tables.
On the surface, it was every bit as impressive as the school’s literature described. Yet Ellen was surprised by how quiet and chilly the room felt. She’d expected a roaring blaze in the hearth, a room full of excited children meeting with parents, teachers, and counselors. Instead, the yawning grate was empty and cold, and there were only unsmiling children grasping their parent’s hands or sitting silently.
The only moment of levity came from a girl and boy, both with jet-black hair, who sat talking animatedly with their parents. The quartet suddenly erupted with laughter, their guffaws echoing around the otherwise hushed room.
Ellen glared at them and then looked around, but saw no sign of her daughter. Lisa should be here, waiting for her. She stepped toward a reception area to the left of the entrance. Behind it was a door marked Staff Only. A young woman with mousey brown hair sat at a desk tapping furiously at a computer keyboard. She was wearing a gray polo with the Lost Lake insignia and a name tag that read Tammy. Tammy paused her typing and kept her fingers poised on the keyboard as she looked up at Ellen with a bright smile.
“Good morning and welcome to the Lost Lake Academy, where your child’s future grows brighter each day. How may I help you?” Tammy stated her greeting carefully, as though she’d rehearsed it.
“I’m looking for my daughter, Lisa Salder.”
“Is she a student here?”
Ellen decided she didn’t like Tammy. “Yes. She’s a student here. Her name is Lisa Salder,” she repeated impatiently. “Why isn’t she waiting for me?”
“One of our counselors can go find her.”
Ellen paused, feeling her irritation grow. “What do you mean, find her? This is a school for troubled teens. Are you telling me you don’t know where the students are at all times?” Ellen paused. The already quiet hall had grown completely silent, and she realized the entire room was listening to her tirade.
Well, let them, she thought. It felt good to vent.
A door behind Tammy’s desk opened, and a man appeared. He held out his hand and shook Ellen’s vigorously. “Mrs. Salder, it’s such an honor to finally meet you. I’m Dr. Robert Nobile.”
Dr. Nobile wore a comfortably worn-in tweed jacket with leather patches at the elbows. His hair was dark and speckled with gray, and his tanned skin spoke of days taking his young wards on vigorous hikes through the surrounding wilderness.
Finally, thought Ellen, someone who lived up to her impression of the school.
Ellen followed him through the door, down a hallway, and entered a large wood-paneled office, lined with bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes. Official documents hung in frames behind a large desk, lauding Dr. Nobile with educational certifications from prestigious-looking universities. Ellen glanced at them but didn’t recognize any of the institutions.
“Please excuse Tammy, it’s only her second day,” he continued.
“It should be her last,” said Ellen. She would never put up with that level of incompetence from her staff.
Dr. Nobile nodded, and said, “Perhaps. Now, about your daughter, why don’t we get caught up on her progress.”
Ellen smiled at him gratefully. “Yes, let’s.”
“Have a seat,” he said, pointing to a pair of brown leather armchairs opposite his desk. “Can I have Tammy fetch you some coffee or tea?”
“Thank you, Dr. Nobile, but I’m fine,” said Ellen as she settled into a chair.
“Please call me Dr. Bob. That’s what all the young people call me, and it just makes everyone feel a little more comfortable and at home.” He stepped to a cabinet and pulled out a thick file with Lisa’s name. He sat down at his desk, put on a pair of reading glasses, and began scanning the pages within. He looked up and met her eyes. “This is your first visit?”
“Yes,” she said, feeling her shoulders rise defensively.
The doctor simply smiled and nodded, obviously not disturbed that Ellen hadn’t been to visit her only child before today. He set the file aside, took off his glasses, and tucked them into his jacket’s breast pocket. “Lisa has been doing fairly well. She’s the kind of young person who really blossoms in the environment that the Academy provides.”
“That’s a relief to hear. She’s always been so rebellious. I hope she hasn’t been too much trouble.”
“We’ve made a lot of progress dealing with her promiscuity. But, like most of our students who also have problems with drug and alcohol addiction, Lisa had a challenging first month. Her withdrawal symptoms were severe, though we offset that with wilderness therapy. We find that living off the land is an effective distraction from the more acute symptoms. Since you weren’t able to submit a blood sample for us, we can only guess what drugs Lisa had been taking while she was living at home. Almost certainly MDMA and bath salts, and we can’t rule out methamphetamines, LSD, cocaine, fentanyl, even heroin.”
Ellen couldn’t believe what she was hearing from Dr. Bob. “I’m aware that Lisa has experimented with drugs. Still, I have a hard time believing that she was on heroin or LSD while living under my roof.”
Dr. Bob shook his head sadly. “It’s easy for young people to get their hands on almost anything, particularly in a crime-filled city like Portland.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “For the good of Lisa, we have to assume the worst, to guide her to her best self.”
Ellen sat back in her chair, feeling suddenly exhausted by the drive and now Dr. Bob’s evaluation. “I suppose that makes sense. Surely, she’s doing better? It’s been months.”
“Yes, of course. However, there is still a lot of work to be done. Our challenge now is dealing with post-acute withdrawal.”
“I’m not familiar with that term.”
“These symptoms can be triggered by situations involving people, places, or things that remind Lisa of when she was doing drugs. That’s why, Mrs. Salder, I would advise keeping Lisa enrolled at the Academy for a full year. Maybe longer.”
“A year? She’ll be eighteen next May. I’d imagined she’d leave by then and, god willing, head to college in the fall.”
“We have a wonderful college-prep curriculum that will prepare her for university life. Though, honestly, I’m not confident she will be ready for that.”
Ellen felt deflated. Lisa’s tuition had already been such an expense. But if the school was making progress with her daughter where she’d only experienced failure, how could she say no?
Dr. Bob’s phone rang. “I need to take this,” he said.
“Of course.”
He held the receiver to his ear and listened for a moment. “Excellent. Yes, please send her in.” He hung up and smiled at Ellen. “You’ll be happy to hear your daughter just made it to the lodge. It turns out she’d been in her dorm room getting ready for your visit this whole time. Girls just love getting dressed up, don’t they?”
Ellen stood up from her chair, her heart in her throat. The moment had come. She took a deep breath. She shouldn’t have come, she realized. This was a mistake. She should have let her husband handle these visits.
Dr. Bob’s office door opened and a counselor stepped in followed by a teenage girl with sun-kissed skin and neatly combed short blonde hair.
“Hi Mom.”
Ellen looked at this version of Lisa, who was so obviously her daughter, and yet so changed. The heavy makeup and that awful blue hair dye were gone, along with the ragged used clothes her daughter had insisted on wearing. This Lisa was everything Ellen had always hoped she’d be. Her daughter had put on some weight, and it made her look healthy and rosy-cheeked. Her skin was clear and tan. She wore a pair of cargo pants, white tennis shoes, and a clean blue T-shirt that read Lost Lake Academy in bold black letters. She looked preppy and adorable.
Ellen smiled. “Hello, darling.”
Together, they walked down a path through a small copse of fir trees near the lodge. Dr. Bob had tried to insist that the counselor join them, but Ellen was so disarmed by this new Lisa that she wanted to have her daughter all to herself. Together they walked for several minutes down the trail. The only sounds were of birds and a light breeze rustling the branches above them.
Lisa looked back at the lodge nervously.
“What’s wrong, dear?” She wondered if Lisa was afraid to be alone with her. “Should we ask the counselor to join us? Would that make you feel better?”
Lisa grabbed Ellen’s arm. “Mom, this place is insane. You have to get me out of here. You wouldn’t believe the kinds of things they’ve made me do. It’s torture.”
Lisa’s words came out in a whispered jumble, and Ellen could barely follow what her daughter was saying.
“They do it to all of us. Like my friend Jamie, they caught her smoking one time. Just one time. And they locked her in a room and wouldn’t let her out till she’d smoked ten packs of cigarettes. She caught bronchitis and was sick for weeks. And my friend Patrick. We were just down by the lake and these horrible kids attacked us. He was just trying to stop them. Then the guards showed up and threatened him with Tasers and they literally dragged him away. Can you believe it? They’ll probably throw him in the hole.”
“The hole?”
“Yes, the hole is a nightmare. It’s, like, pitch black and they play this horrible music and then flash the lights so you can’t sleep. Patrick was in there for three days last time. He was a mess after. He could barely speak. They watch us all the time. And all the other kids spy.” Lisa looked around nervously, as though afraid someone would jump out at them from behind a tree. She lowered her voice even more. “You get rewarded when you lie and punished for telling the truth. The more you rat on your classmates, the better they treat you. It’s unbelievable. And the teachers. They don’t know anything. I don’t think most of them are even real teachers. Our schoolbooks are all old and falling apart. The computers we work on are ancient, of course there’s no internet, and the library is a joke. Mom, you have to get me out of here.”
Lisa paused to catch her breath. Her hand was wrapped around Ellen’s arm so tight, it started to hurt. Ellen pulled away from her daughter’s grasp.
“Absolutely not. I wouldn’t hear of it.”
The blood drained from Lisa’s face. “Aren’t you listening to me?”
Ellen shook her head sadly. “Lisa, we both know what an excellent liar you are. How can you expect me to believe anything you say?”
Her daughter looked stunned. “Because it’s true.”
“I’ve already decided,” said Ellen, as she continued down the trail. “You’re staying. Dr. Bob and I discussed it. He thinks it’s for the best.”
“Please, Mom. No. You can’t trust him. If you knew what he’s done to me . . .”
Ellen softened her tone. “He says you’re making excellent progress. And look at you. You finally look like a normal girl.”
Lisa’s eyes narrowed and Ellen knew immediately she’d made a mistake.
“What do you mean, a normal girl?” asked Lisa, her voice rising with each word. “Like someone who doesn’t embarrass you. Someone who doesn’t look like a juvenile delinquent? Or a slut?”
“You are putting words in my mouth.”
“I’m just saying out loud what you’re thinking.”
“Enough,” Ellen said. She’d feared it would go this way. “Dr. Bob is afraid you’ll suffer a relapse if you come home too soon. You’ll start using again.”
“Using what exactly?” asked Lisa. She sounded confused.
“You know. Drugs. MDMA, opioids, methamphetamines.” She stopped when she saw the thunderous look on Lisa’s face.
“That’s what Dr. Bob’s been telling you? That I’m a meth addict?” She shook her head with disgust. “You know you can’t keep me here after I turn eighteen. After that, I can walk out.”
“And walking is what you’ll be doing, young lady.”
“I’ll talk to Dad about it. He’ll let me come home,” said Lisa.
“Your father will do exactly what I tell him to.”
Lisa angrily wiped tears from her eyes. “Dad told me everything. He said you threatened to leave him if he didn’t agree to send me here.”
Ellen gasped. “How could you know that? All your calls are monitored, and students aren’t allowed cell phones.”
“I snuck into one of the offices and I called him at work.”
Ben. How dare he. Another betrayal. That man was doing everything he could to ruin what little bond remained between her and Lisa. She steeled her resolve. “You will stay at this school, or you’ll lose all financial support.”
“I don’t need your money,” said Lisa defiantly.
“You’ll feel differently when you realize what life is like without it. You don’t know what I’ve sacrificed for you.”
“Sacrificed? Are you kidding me? You hide me away in the mountains from your rich political friends so I can’t embarrass you. You can’t be bothered to talk to me for a few minutes every couple of weeks when these assholes let me call home. I’ve been here for months, and you couldn’t get away until now to see me? You don’t care about me at all.”
Ellen turned away from her daughter and started heading back toward the lodge.
“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” demanded Lisa.
“I’m sorry. Motherhood never came easily to me.”
“You’ve never been my mother. You’ve always just been some stranger in the background. I wish it were just me and Dad.”
“Your father has no say in this. He left the decision up to me.”
Her daughter’s face was stricken with disbelief. Ellen realized that if she didn’t take Lisa home with her today, whatever bond remained between them might be permanently broken. A sacrifice she was willing to make, for the good of her daughter.
***
Ellen reached Screen Door and parked in the yellow zone in front of the restaurant, a perk of her office that always filled her with deep satisfaction. She adjusted the rearview mirror to catch her daughter’s reflection in the back seat, expecting to see her sulking. To her surprise, Lisa was in a deep sleep. For once, she appeared peaceful and serene. Considering the demand Ellen was about to make of her daughter, she felt sure that serenity wouldn’t last long.