Chapter 3:
Road Trip
ITEM 135: Danielle’s thirty-sixth letter
Item Source: Danielle Matheson
Dear Dr. S.,
I am so, so sorry for yet another letter drought. This is why I’m a terrible blogger, no consistency. Thankfully, this delay had nothing to do with catching up on school work. Despite my less than stellar performance during senior year, I successfully met all the requirements of my high school and the state of New Jersey to earn my diploma.
There’s so much to talk about I don’t know where to start. Guess I’ll just pick up where I was last time and go from there. I had to cheat and re-read my last email to you to even know what I was talking about way back then.
Calvin (Dillan Greenfield) and I ended up attending the prom together. I wore a lovely royal blue dress because he insisted we match and I didn’t want to make the guy suffer through a purple tie. We’ve exchanged a fair number of texts since that time, but I’d venture to say he’s way more invested in our relationship than I am. It’s not that I don’t like him, but I’m afraid we don’t have the sort of solid foundation
that’s going to successfully weather the next four years of college-induced separation.
Graduation was lovely. Thanks again for the card. (I don’t count my return thank you letter as an official letter, so again, I apologize for being a lousy correspondent.) The weather was surprisingly gorgeous for an outdoor ceremony, despite my cynical predictions. The speeches were tolerably short if not life-changing in their inspiration. The school officials even managed to call all 597 names of the graduates in a timely fashion. A few of the more idiotic graduates attempted to blow up inappropriate dolls, but the chaperones were literally waiting on the sidelines with keys in hand to deal with the offensive things. Mom, Dad, Katy, and Jillian beamed at me from the stands. Dylan made himself a useful distraction by pulling funny faces every time mom wasn’t paying attention.
Thank you also for the recommendation letter. I’m sure that helped with the admissions decision, given my mediocre finish to senior year. Your friend on the faculty threw in a few good words on my behalf as well. It really is about who you know in this world. I’m not ashamed to rely on such for something like this, and I’m looking forward to meeting lifelong friends in college. I don’t know much about my new roommate, except that her name’s Karen Tyler and she’s got a sister named Ellie. Karen and I have exchanged about three emails to date. I get the feeling she’s dealing with a lot right now, but I’m sure I’ll find out more when we move in to our dorm. I can’t believe that’s only a few weeks away.
Did Jillian tell you about our pending road trip? We’re headed out to Fairview, Pennsylvania to visit Malia and her new family. I’m not sure if she was adopted yet or is going to be while we’re there. I wonder if Malia will change her name. I imagine that could be tricky.
Mom’s already getting misty-eyed, but she’s being a trooper about handling my last minute moving details since I won’t be here to do so myself. She and Dad are going to take Dylan and Katy along on the Walmart college preparation shopping trip. That should be an interesting excursion. I’m sure to get plenty of chips, candy, and junk food, depending on how much free rein my parents give Dylan and Katy. Dylan especially has promoted himself to unofficial food master. I’ll probably end up with enough fruit rollups to cover the walls of my dorm. There are worse fates.
With Mr. and Mrs. Davidson’s permission, I invited Christy Roman to come with us on our road trip, but she decided to stay here to spend more time with her mom. I offered because I thought she could use a break from the constant worry, but Nadia told me Christy’s mother is getting worse. I thought about staying to lend what support I can, but I already promised Jillian I’d take her to see Malia and Nadia. Much as I hate to admit it, there’s not much I can do for Christy’s family.
When I last wrote you, Christy and I were returning triumphantly, having scored a victory against some human traffickers. Varick even surprised them with a large gift of money to go towards treating Christy’s mother for cancer. Since that time, we’ve ridden a tide of good will and hope as the community rallied to help Christy and her little sister, Dominique, cope with the day-to-day details while their mother fights for her life against the disease. Now, sadly, the hopes are quickly fading.
I haven’t spoken with Christy in a few days, but I’ve called and left a few messages to let her know I’m thinking about her. Nadia told me Susan Kilpatrick—Christy’s mother—now has metastatic breast cancer, which is basically the worst kind you can have because that means it’s moved from the original site to other parts of the body. I don’t understand much of the technical details, but I gather moving cancer is bad. Christy hasn’t told me how bad it’s getting, but I’m sure she will when she’s ready.
If I had more courage, I would ask Jillian and Nadia to help Christy’s family more directly, but that would be unfair. The more I learn about Devya’s Children, the more I’m convinced that letting anybody know about their powerful Gifts would be a massive mistake. Nadia no doubt knows my feelings on the matter, but she also knows better than I do what manner of trouble could arise if they managed to pull off a miracle and save Christy’s mother.
Just because I won’t ask, does not mean I haven’t spent days of my life wrestling with the issues. On the one hand, Jillian or one of her siblings must have the ability to cure the cancer. I think Michio’s Gift was always meant to eventually allow him to heal diseases, but he’s young and relatively untrained. On the other hand, I know enough about human nature to know that the world isn’t ready for these children and their Gifts. It absolutely tears my heart to pieces to know that I can’t in good conscience encourage any supernatural effort to save Christy’s mother.
My moral high ground quakes and crumbles when I think about it being my mother. Is it worth the risk to several lives in the hopes of saving one? The practical side of me must admit that Jillian and her siblings have only a slim chance of saving Susan Kilpatrick anyway.
I need to go pack. My car has a fresh tank of gas. I have printed instructions of how to pump gas in uncivilized states that don’t have attendants to do that for you. We have plenty of Dylan-approved snacks for the ride. I have my GPS primed and Mapquest directions as a backup. So, why do I still feel unprepared for this trip?
The Contrite, Inconsistent Correspondent,
Danielle Matheson.
***
ITEM 136: Jillian’s sixty-seventh post-kidnapping journal entry
Item Source: Jillian Blairington
Today is the first day I’m trying out the belated birthday gift Malia and Nadia gave me. More specifically, Queen Elena delivered news of it in the dream Nadia had last night. It’s a computer program that lets me write just using my thoughts. Not quite sure if I like it enough to use exclusively, but it sure does come in handy when embarking on a road trip. At first, I found it a mite strange to have to think delete, delete, delete every time I wanted to get rid of something, but I soon discovered that if I had the intent to delete something, it would still work.
Guess it’s just one of those mornings that are full of surprises. Momma had to work the early morning shift at ShopRite today, which worked out well ’cause Danielle and I wanted to get well on our way before any morning traffic.
If you count this program thing as the first major surprise, the second surprise was meeting Varick at Danielle’s house. He’d parked his motorcycle right in the center of the driveway so we couldn’t miss him. Momma let out a small gasp as Varick’s shadowy figure materialized before her headlights as we pulled into Danielle’s driveway.
“Varick!” shouted Michio. He waved madly with both arms.
“What’s he doing here?” Momma wondered, voicing the question I was just opening my mouth to ask. Her surprised tone told me why she wasn’t scolding Michio for shouting.
“I dunno,” I answered, even though the question wasn’t really directed to me. I glanced back at the car seat holding Isaac to see if I needed to help him sleep ’cause of the racket. He was still sleeping rather soundly. “I’ll find out,” I added, opening my door and hopping out.
“I’m here to make some deliveries and escort you on your journey,” Varick said, before I could repeat the question for him. Setting his helmet on the seat of his motorcycle, he sauntered up to meet me wearing a knowing grin. “Nadia sends her greetings and an apology for not warning you I’d be here.”
The slam of Momma’s car door was followed quickly by her greeting. “Good morning, Varick. It’s so nice to see you again.” She walked around the car and opened the side door to get Michio out.
“Good morning,” Varick responded, neatly stepping around her. “Here, let me get him out for you.”
“Hi!” shouted Michio in a manner that reminded me of Aiden.
“Hush, Michio,” I scolded. “You’ll wake all of Danielle’s neighbors. It’s too early to be shouting.”
He just smiled all big and heart-melting-like.
His noise brought Danielle to the door, looking like my little brother had just awakened her.
“Hi!” Michio called in a slightly softer tone. At least he put a little effort into controlling the volume, even if he was still pretty lousy at it. I sometimes worry about how easily he slips into baby-talk, but I suppose it ain’t the worst thing in life.
Danielle held out her arms and accepted Michio from Varick. “Hey, little man. Are you ready for the road trip?”
Michio nodded so hard I thought he’d shake himself loose from Danielle’s grasp.
“Question is: are you ready for the road trip?” Varick asked. His eyes took in Danielle’s bleary eyes, unkempt hair, and pajamas.
“Late night?” asked Momma mildly. She’d freed Isaac’s carrier from the car and hauled him up to the front door. He would spend the morning with Danielle’s momma.
Danielle shrugged. “Short night. I forgot my father needed to be at the airport this morning for his trip to Texas. He hired a limo company to take him, but that means crisis management fell to me and Mom when Dylan tumbled out of his bunk bed this morning.”
“Is he all right?” Momma wondered.
“He’s fine,” said Danielle. “Mom sent me a text a few minutes ago saying Dylan dislocated his shoulder. The doctor is sorting him out now, but it might be a few hours before we can get on the road.”
“Should I call out of work?” Momma inquired.
Danielle waved dismissively. “Don’t worry, Mrs. B., I’m on Katy duty for a few hours. I can watch Isaac too. We’ll get on the road as soon as my mom gets back from the hospital.”
“I help!” declared Michio.
“Michio, what did we talk about the other day?” asked Varick. His voice held what I considered to be an undue amount of warning.
Michio looked ready to cry. “No help.”
“Help with what?” I asked. It should have been obvious, but I chalk my slowness up to the early hour.
“He needs to be careful about using his Gift in public,” Varick reminded us, instinctively lowering his voice.
That made sense, but I didn’t think he needed to be mean about it.
“Sorry,” Michio said, wearing a sad face.
“Wanting to help people’s not the problem, little man,” Danielle assured him. “Varick just wants you to be safe and for now, safe means keeping secrets, okay?”
Momma put down Isaac’s carrier and moved close enough to give Michio a quick hug and kiss. “Be a good boy and mind Jillian and Miss Danielle, ya hear?”
Michio again nodded, solemnly this time. “I hear good.”
That got a chuckle from everybody except Isaac who was still sleeping. After a long, semi-awkward farewell, Momma set off for work. Just before she could drive off, Varick stepped up to the driver’s window and tapped. When she lowered the window, he said a few words I couldn’t hear and handed her an envelope. She tried to refuse the envelope, but he said a few more words to convince her. Though I can’t be certain, I’d bet my last dime the package contained money for the trip down to Georgia.
While we waited for Danielle’s momma to return from the hospital, Varick rummaged around in the refrigerator and found some eggs to scramble for breakfast. Danielle showed him where to find bacon and bread for toast. Soon, we had a hearty breakfast awaiting us. Danielle made coffee for herself and Varick and poured some orange juice for me and Michio. Katy joined us just in time for food, though she was distracted by Isaac’s presence. He’d woken up by then and was sending out a steady stream of baby babbles lest we forget him.
We finally started our journey a little after eleven. Danielle’s Momma arrived home just after nine, but it took us nearly two hours to exchange stories, assure Mrs. Matheson we’d be fine, and pack the car.
Varick spent the trip driving his motorcycle a few car lengths behind us to make sure we were safe. I decided that an escort could either be seen as creepy or sweet. Danielle said we should just assume sweet since her car didn’t have the power to lose Varick and there was no point since he knew where we were headed.
The trip took a lot longer than Mapquest had estimated, but that’s partly ’cause we had to stop a lot to let Michio run off some of his energy, use the facilities, or eat. I used Danielle’s cell phone to call Malia and let her know we’d be really late. I just didn’t know how late.
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