Straightened-18
2035 Words
“Why does that name sound so familiar?” he asked.
“He’s some kind of counselor,” Kennedy answered. “Works with teens who are struggling with homosexuality, or something like that.” She remembered how angry Nick got learning about Marcos’s work and wondered if Carl held different opinions.
Sandy smothered strawberry jam on a piece of her toast and set it on Woong’s plate. “Who does Drisklay think stabbed him?”
Carl didn’t give Kennedy the chance to respond. “He’s a detective, babe. He’s not gonna share all his research and fact-finding with a college girl. No offense,” he added with a nod toward Kennedy.
“I know that.” Sandy pouted and stopped Woong from stuffing the jam packets into his pockets. “I just wondered if maybe he said something ...”
“No. Nothing.” Kennedy wasn’t the only one looking for answers.
“Marcos Esperanza,” Carl repeated. “I’m sure I know that name.” He pulled out his phone. “I think I’m supposed to be able to get internet on this new thing. Can I do that even if I’m not at home?”
Kennedy reached out her hand and took his cell. “What are you trying to look up?”
“That Marcos guy. I need to remember why he sounds so familiar.”
Woong knocked over a water glass, and Sandy reached for a pile of napkins to wipe up the mess. “It seems to me like that counselor is the key to everything. Once the doctors wake him up, he can tell Detective Drisklay who attacked him, and that should take them to the real murderer. Sounds simple enough, don’t you think?”
Kennedy’s gut twisted and her heart dropped in her chest when she clicked on the Channel 2 link that her Google search brought up. She shook her head.
“It’s not going to be that easy.” She handed Carl back his phone. “Marcos died from his stab wounds sometime during the night.”
CHAPTER 25Nobody talked about Marcos or any of the Abernathys as they piled into Carl’s maroon Honda. While Woong let out an occasional protest to tell his parents he was hungry, Carl and Sandy debated where they should go. The fire marshal hadn’t cleared their home yet, and the arson investigation was still ongoing. Nick’s place had worked on short notice, but Kennedy was glad that nobody was seriously talking about staying there long-term.
“I say we splurge and get a hotel room,” Carl was saying. “I’ll be at my office, but you and Woong can spend your days in the pool. I think he’d like swimming, don’t you?”
“I’d have to buy him trunks,” Sandy mused. “And we still haven’t finished our back-to-school shopping. Did you know that checklist we got from the school has over thirty items on it? I swear, Target and Walmart must be giving the school district a share in the profits or something. I don’t remember ever having to spend so much the last time we sent our kids off to school.”
“The last time we sent our kids off to school, Reagan was running for president.”
Sandy shook her head. “Well, the budget’s tight. That’s all I’m saying. Have you talked with the insurance agent yet about the fire?”
“No. I’ve only been awake for an hour, babe.”
Sandy sighed. “Well, we need to figure that out. We have enough for groceries for the rest of the month, but Woong’s supplies plus the clothes he’ll need is gonna be another couple hundred. I just don’t see how we’ll pay for a hotel without dipping into our emergency fund.”
“That’s why they call it an emergency fund,” Carl muttered.
Kennedy leaned her head against the neck rest. She hated sitting in the back seat of cars. She felt like an eight-year-old making the five-hour drive upstate to visit her grandma.
“I’m hungry.”
Woong’s parents ignored him.
“Well, I say we book a hotel for the night. That gives you and Woong a place to stay. And you’ve got Kennedy, too. Dorms don’t open until Friday, right?”
“Yeah.” Kennedy hated to think of Carl and Sandy going out of their way to accommodate her at a time like this. Maybe she’d call her dad and see if he could help deflect some of the costs of a hotel.
Sandy pulled a hard candy out of her purse and passed it back to Woong. “The other option is we could look for rentals. It’s got to be cheaper than a hotel.”
Carl turned on his talk radio show. “I think that’s a little drastic right now. Nobody’s condemned the house yet. Might just need to patch up Woong’s room.”
“And in the meantime, we need a place to sleep.” Sandy turned the volume down to low.
Nobody spoke. Kennedy had seen Carl and Sandy disagree plenty of times before, but this felt different for some reason. She hated to think that her staying with the Lindgrens was causing them so much stress. Maybe she could email the dean of students, see if she could move into her dorm a couple days early.
The radio host mentioned Wayne Abernathy, and Carl scarcely beat Sandy to shut it off.
“What about some kind of motel?” Sandy crossed her arms and stared out her window. “They’re furnished, aren’t they? More like a home than a hotel room. Don’t a lot of them rent by the week?”
“It’s a good idea, but we still have to see what the insurance adjuster says. I haven’t gone over that policy in a decade. I don’t know what it covers and what it doesn’t.”
“Even if insurance doesn’t cover it right away, it will give us something of a home for the time being. They have kitchens, so we can do our own cooking. Save money on food.”
“Yeah.” Carl sighed. “I’ll look into it. What about for now? I’ve got work to do at the church. Do you all want to tag along with me, or do you want me to drop you off at Nick’s place?”
“We’ll drop you off at the office and take the car to do our shopping. Kennedy, you’re welcome to ride along if you’re not too tired. Do you need new school supplies, too?”
Kennedy smiled at the thought of Sandy buying her packets of erasers and black and white composition books for her college classes. “It’s all right. I can get all that stuff at the campus bookstore.”
“Yeah, but it’s so expensive there, isn’t it?” Sandy turned around in her seat.
“I guess so.” Eventually she’d need to find a place to take a nap, but she’d had a cup of coffee at Rusty’s and didn’t expect to sleep anytime soon. And actually, Sandy was right. It would be cheaper to buy her school things off campus somewhere. She had her dad’s debit card in her ...
“Oh, wait. Do you think we could swing by your house? My wallet’s back there, and ...”
“No, don’t you worry about that.” Sandy twisted around once more. Kennedy wondered if she’d have a kink in her neck for the rest of the day. “I know how it is for you starving college students. You’ve got more important things to do with the little bit of money you have, so you just sit back and let Carl and me spoil you for the day, all right? What about clothes? You need new shoes or anything?”
From the front seat, Carl muttered something about budgets and emergency funds.
“That’s ok.” Kennedy made a mental note to call her dad and get him to find a subtle way to reimburse the Lindgrens for anything they got for her over the next couple days.
Carl turned the radio back on, but as soon as he did, Sandy switched it to the praise and worship station.
Jesus, you’re my Healer, my Shepherd, my Shield.
Kennedy shut her eyes. Her soul drank in the words.
Jesus, you’re the One who makes me whole.
It had been a grueling thirty-six hours. There was no way she’d be starting her fall semester as rested and relaxed as she’d hoped. Somewhere, a teen boy was sitting in a jail cell for a crime he couldn’t have committed. A father was dead, as well as a counselor who’d done what he could to help others. Woong was working his way into another fit after Sandy told him it’d be another day of shopping centers and clothes stores. But somewhere deep within Kennedy’s spirit, buried so far down she had to channel all her mental energy to focus on it, was a peace.
A certainty.
The world was dark. Full of hatred and violence. But somewhere in the midst of the chaos, somewhere above the darkness and confusion, was a God of love. A God of refuge.
A God gentle and compassionate enough to give her soul the rest it so desperately craved.
CHAPTER 26Kennedy lost track of how many stores she’d been in by the time Sandy pulled up in front of a little sandwich shop in downtown Cambridge. “Now, I know Carl’s worried about the budget, but I can’t have you and Woong starve now.” She waited for the song on her worship album to finish before she turned the Honda off.
“So tell me, sweetie, how was your summer? I feel like you landed here, and then everything happened all at once, and we never really got a chance to talk about anything.”
Woong jumped out of the back seat, obviously in a better mood now that they had pulled up in front of a restaurant and not another clothes store. Medford Academy was a charter school with a dress code nearly as strict as the one at Kennedy’s girls’ school back in Yanji. The trunk of the Lindgrens’ Honda was filled with bags of khaki pants, khaki shorts, brand new socks and underwear, and a dozen or more polo-style shirts in just about every shade of blue, green, and tan. Sandy had been right about one thing. Getting her son ready for school, even a publicly funded one, was ridiculously expensive. What Sandy had spent on Woong’s school supplies and clothes was more than the amount Kennedy had to budget for a whole semester’s worth of college textbooks.
“Shut that door a little harder, son.” Sandy took Woong’s hand when he joined her on the sidewalk, but he quickly snatched it away and shoved it in the pocket of his shorts.
Once they were seated at a table in front of their oversized sandwiches, Sandy took a sip of her sweetened tea. “I’m still waiting to hear about your summer.”
Kennedy had to stretch her mind back to what felt like the distant past. Had it only been yesterday she landed in the States? “It was good. I got a lot of reading done. Lots of Shakespeare. I wanted to get ahead for the lit class I’m taking.”
Sandy nudged Woong with her elbow. “Honey, you need to finish one bite before you take another.” She gave Kennedy an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, dear. Could you say that again?”
Kennedy told Sandy about her summer reading list, about the classes she’d be taking this semester, about how relaxing it had been to spend three and a half months away from deadlines, lab reports, and research papers.
“You work so hard, pumpkin. I still remember how tiny you used to be with your little pigtails sitting in my Sunday school class. I want you to know Carl and I sure are proud of the young woman you’ve become. Woong, darling, swallow your food and then drink your juice. Now look here. See how many floaties you got in it?” She glanced up at Kennedy again. “And your friend, the one from Kenya? How’s he doing? How’s his health?”
Kennedy stared at her veggie sub. “Fine. There’s a good hospital right there in Nairobi.”
“Well, it’s a shame he won’t be around this semester.” Sandy wiped some mustard off of Woong’s nose with a napkin. “He was a real nice boy. I bet you’ll miss him.”
“Yeah.” What else was there to say? It was like splashing sulfuric acid in your eyes and having the doctor look at you and say, “I bet it hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Well, the Lord brings people into our lives. Sometimes it’s only for a season, but he always knows what he’s doing.”
Did he, though? It seemed like such a waste. Such a senseless injustice for someone like Ruben to end up with HIV. For what? What good could possibly come from it? Of course, Kennedy knew the verse about how all things work together for good for those who love God, and she had seen that principle played out in her own life a time or two. But then she looked around her, at the injustice in the world, at the senseless violence, the hatred. That couldn’t all really be part of God’s plan, could it? If God could make good come from something like Ruben’s sickness, couldn’t he have stopped him from contracting the virus in the first place? If God wanted to show his glory and goodness, couldn’t he do it by allowing his children to stay healthy and safe?
She was too tired to think through any of this. It was past midnight now in Yanji, and Kennedy was growing less and less sure of her resolve to stay awake until the sun set over Massachusetts.
- Writer
