Stolen Lives Read online

  Aunt July tapped gently on the bathroom door, calling sweetly, “Ali, I have an extra pad. You don’t have to use a washcloth. Open the door.”

  Ali opened the door just wide enough to take the pad from Aunt July’s hand, mumbling, “Thanks.”

  When she emerged from the bathroom, Ali headed for her bedroom and got dressed in a long skirt, too-big blouse, and socks, and then slipped her feet into her ugly loafers. Then she grabbed a coat from the hall closet and said, “I’m off.”

  “Have a good day, honey,” Aunt July called from the kitchen. “Be home by four. I want you home before dark.”

  “I know, I know!” Ali said as she rolled her eyes and hurried outside.

  At Toots’ house, she quickly changed into a pair of jeans, a sweater, and her tennis shoes. As she got dressed, she announced to Toots, “I’m going to the movies today. I’ll just have to take my chances on Aunt July coming in. Todd James asked if I’d meet him there.”

  Toots smiled and said, “Oh, he’s cute. I’m glad you said you’d meet him. Jimmy Hays asked me to meet him there, too. We can all sit together. This is going to be fun. It’s kind of like our first double date. Do you think they’ll hold our hands?”

  “I guess we’ll soon find out. What’s playing today?” Ali asked as she applied a light shade of coral lipstick.

  “Splendor in the Grass, with Natalie Wood and Warren Beatty.”

  “Gosh, that’s an old one!” Ali exclaimed in surprise. “I remember Mama Jane talking about that movie. She said something about forbidden love and how it was just like her life, but I really didn’t know what she was talking about.”

  “Well, it’s at the Culver theatre. They always show old movies. My mama saw it too, and she said it was the best movie she ever saw,” Toots said. “I hope it’s not too mushy and embarrassing with Jay sitting by me.”

  “Aw, who cares?” Ali said dismissively.

  Toots said, “You know, Natalie Wood kind of reminds me of you. She’s tiny and has big brown eyes and dark hair, even though your eyes are dark blue—and that Warren Beatty is to die for.”

  Toots grabbed her heart and held her forehead as if she were on the verge of swooning. Then she and Ali laughed.

  “What time is it over?” Ali asked. “I have to be home by four. It doesn’t get completely dark until five, but the witch wants me home early.”

  Toots said, “It doesn’t start until two, so it might not be over until at least four.”

  Ali threw the lipstick on the dresser and said, “Well, crap on a cracker. That woman ruins everything for me. I swear I hate her!” She pulled her hair back in a ponytail, and said defiantly, “Well, I’m not leaving until the movie is over. She can just have a cow. I don’t care. I’ll think of some excuse. Come on, let’s go to Woolworth’s. I think I need two banana splits—with extra chocolate.”

  After eating their banana splits, Ali and Toots met Todd and Jimmy at the theater. The boys were so shy that it seemed as if they had forgotten how to do a simple thing like finding a seat, so Ali led the way and found four empty seats in the middle section of the theater.

  As the movie progressed, Ali was spellbound by the love scenes. In her mind, she was Natalie and Mr. Patrick was Warren. Todd held Ali’s hand after buying her a box of Milk Duds, but Ali didn’t enjoy his touch. In fact, she didn’t like being close to him. He wasn’t wearing any “smell-good.”

  The movie ended a little after four. Ali knew she was going to be in trouble, but the movie had been worth whatever punishment Aunt July might impose.

  Outside the theater, Ali said, “Thanks for the Milk Duds, Todd, but I’ve got to get home right away. I’ll see you later.” Then she took off running before Todd could say a word.

  It was 4:30 by the time she made it home. As she walked through the front door, out of breath, she saw Aunt July sitting in her recliner, and she was definitely not happy.

  “I know I’m late,” Ali said, “but I went to the movies and it didn’t get over until just a few minutes ago. I’m sorry. I got here as fast as I could.”

  “You didn’t tell me you were going to the movies,” Aunt July said coldly. “You know that’s against the rules. I’m supposed to know where you are at all times.” She paused, and then asked, “What was playing? And don’t lie to me. You know I can always check the paper.”

  “Splendor in the Grass,” Ali responded. “It was at the Culver. You can check it out.”

  Aunt July said, “I’ve never heard of it, but the title sure sounds suggestive. But the Culver shows old movies, which means it was made before all the smut started coming out.” As Ali breathed a sigh of relief, Aunt July added, “But next time, you tell me where you’re going before you go, not after.”

  Ali shifted on her feet, and then said, “I’m sorry. It was a spur of the moment decision and—”

  Aunt July cut her off. “That’s what telephones are for. Next time call me—that is, if you ever want to go out of the house on a Saturday again.”

  “I sure will,” Ali said. “But at least I made it home before dark.”

  Aunt July nodded in reluctant agreement and then headed for her sewing room. As she walked down the hallway, she called over her shoulder, “Take a bath, then we’ll have supper. Tomorrow’s Sunday, you know.”

  “Okay!” Ali said with mock enthusiasm, and then mumbled under her breath, “My favorite day of the week.”

  Later that night, Ali lay awake, thinking of the love scenes in the movie. She longed for the day when she would find that kind of love, though she hoped her love story would have a happier ending. She dozed off imagining herself in a man’s loving embrace.

  By the time Monday finally came, Ali was glad to be back at school, as always. She glanced at the basketball schedule and gasped when she read: Home - Wednesday - 7:00. Her mind raced. Wednesday night—prayer meeting night!

  That afternoon, she couldn’t get her jumps right at cheerleading practice. Her mind simply wasn’t on the task at hand. Unless she had a doctor’s excuse for missing a game, she’d be off the squad—but she’d never been to a doctor in her life. Aunt July didn’t believe in them. She’d have to come up with something serious enough to change her aunt’s mind.

  After school on Wednesday, Ali hurried home, burst through the front door, and collapsed on the couch. “Aunt July, I’m awful sick. I’ve got a fever and I hurt all over. I don’t even have the strength to get dressed for prayer meeting. I’m so sick to my stomach that I can’t eat. I think I have the flu—the kind that’s been killing people.”

  Aunt July felt Ali’s forehead. “You don’t feel feverish. We’ll just take you to church and have them prayer over you. Meanwhile, I’ll get you some aspirin and make some herbal tea. That should give you the strength to make it to church.”

  Ali got up and lumbered toward her bedroom, saying weakly, “If I go back out with a fever, I’ll die before I ever get to church. I’ve got to stay in bed. I’ve got terrible chills.”

  When Aunt July walked into the bedroom, she found Ali under the covers. “Here, take these aspirin, then drink this tea,” she said, feeling Ali’s forehead again. “You still don’t feel feverish to me, but I’ll get the thermometer—if I can remember where it is. I haven’t used it in so long.”

  Ali smiled as Aunt July left the room. Dang, I’m good.

  When she returned, Aunt July was holding the thermometer. “Put this under your tongue,” she said. “We’ll see what we’re dealing with here. Meanwhile, I’ll get you a damp washcloth to put on your forehead.”

  As soon as Aunt July left, Ali stuck the thermometer into the hot tea. When she took it out, it read 105. She shook it hard, and when it had gone down to 102, she stuck it back into her mouth, hoping it didn’t drop too far before her aunt returned.

  When Aunt July examined the thermometer, she exclaimed, “Well, my goodness. It’s almost 102.” Just as Ali was feeling a bit more confident, Aunt July added, “But the aspirin will bring it down, and then
we’ll head for church.”

  Ali writhed in the bed, moaning, “I can’t! Please let me stay home. What I need is some rest!”

  Aunt July shook her head and said, “Look, I don’t have the time or energy to argue with you. You can stay home and we’ll pray for you, but church will be longer tonight because the choir has to practice for the big revival next week. I won’t be back till late.”

  “Thank you,” Ali said as if it was taking her last ounce of strength. “I’ll be fine. If everybody at church prays, I might even be well by the time you get home. You just go do what you have to do.”

  “Okay, dear,” Aunt July said. “Sister Bee’s out front and I don’t want to keep her waiting. It’s so nice to be able to call on a church sister when you can’t drive at night. We’ll all pray for you.”

  “Bless you,” Ali said in the weakest voice she could muster.

  As soon as she heard the front door shut, Ali sprung out of bed, ran into the living and watched as Sister Bee’s car pulled away from the curb. Then she pulled on her stocking hat and coat, and grabbed her purse.

  She ran all the way to Toots’ house, burst through the front door, and said, “I was afraid you’d already left. We don’t have time to walk all the way to school. I’ve only got fifteen minutes to get to my locker, change into my outfit, and be on the sidelines.”

  Nancy picked up her car keys and said, “Well, what are we waiting for? I want to see the game, too. I think Trent is going to win the tournament this year. Mr. Patrick has done a great job with the team, considering the team has never been very good before.”

  As Nancy pulled the car up to the gym, Ali jumped out and raced into the building. In the dressing room, she found the other cheerleaders already dressed and giving their hair one last coat of hairspray. Ali’s hair was wild from wearing the sock cap, she had on no makeup, and she seemed on the verge of collapse.

  Ali quickly changed, ignoring her hair, and headed out the door with the other girls. When she saw Mr. Patrick come into the gym, she wanted to crawl into a hole. What would he think of her? She was a total wreck, emotionally and physically.

  He walked down the line of girls, telling each that they looked nice, and when he came to Ali, he smiled and pushed her hair behind her ears, and gently patted her cheeks. For the first time, Ali noticed the other girls giving her dirty looks.

  The first game of the tournament also turned out to be the most exciting game of the year, but Ali had a hard time keeping her mind on the court. Why had Mr. Patrick pushed her hair behind her ears, and when he patted her cheeks, why did she feel them flush—and what if she didn’t make it back home before Aunt July?

  The game was close all the way, and Ali could only pray that it wouldn’t go into overtime. Her life depended on getting home before her aunt.

  With three seconds on the clock, the score was tied. Mike took a long desperation shot, the crowd roared—and Ali hit the floor.

  A few moments later, she vaguely head Mr. Patrick’s voice saying, “Ali, open your eyes.”

  When her eyes finally fluttered open, she looked up and found herself surrounded by concerned faces. Mr. Patrick was holding her head with one hand and gently patting her face with the other. As he slowly pulled Ali to her feet, Nancy held a cup of water to her mouth while Toots wiped her face with a wet towel.

  Slowly regaining her bearings, Ali asked feebly, “Did we win?”

  Mr. Patrick smiled and said, “We did, but I think you got a little over-excited. Let’s get you outside for some fresh air.”

  Nancy stepped in front of Mr. Patrick and said, “I’ll take her. She’s with me.”

  As they walked toward the front door, Ali told Nancy, “I’m so embarrassed. Why did I have to faint in front of all those people—and what time is it?”

  “It’s nine-forty,” Nancy said.

  “Oh, no!” Ali said. “You’ve got to get me home, fast! If Aunt July comes in and finds out I’m not there, she’ll kill me!”

  “Calm down, honey,” Nancy said reassuringly. “Go get out of your uniform and we’ll have you home as fast as we can.” Looking at Toots, she added, “You help her. We’ve got to save her from that crazy woman.”

  As Ali and Toots emerged from the building, they found Nancy’s car in front of the door. Ali jumped into the backseat and said, “Step on it! Hurry!”

  Nancy smiled as she hit the accelerator and said, “How did you pull off being able to go to a game on prayer meeting night?”

  Ali told them the whole story, exaggerating her performance as Nancy and Toots laughed heartily.

  “If the lights are on in the living room, that means Aunt July’s home,” Ali said as they neared the house. “Drive down the block before you let me out, then go home and call either an ambulance or the coroner. I’m going to need one or the other.”

  As they approached the house, they saw that it was dark. Nancy pulled her car to the curb. “Thanks,” Ali called as she jumped out and raced into the house. When she reached her bedroom, she quickly pulled off her clothes, stuffed them into her bottom chest drawer, got into her nightgown, and slipped under the covers. Just as her head hit the pillow, she heard Aunt July open the front door.

  Aunt July tip-toed into Ali’s bedroom and softly called, “Ali, are you awake?”

  Ali answered in a weak voice. “Yes, and I’m feeling a little better. I think my fever is down, and I’m actually a little hungry. I know it’s late, but would you mind making me some tomato soup?”

  “I don’t mind at all, and if your stomach can handle it, I’ll fix you a grilled cheese sandwich too,” Aunt July said, sounding relieved.

  “I think that would be nice. Thank you,” Ali said, realizing that she hadn’t eaten since lunch.

  Stroking Mr. Puss’ fur, Ali whispered, “No wonder I fainted. No food, scared half to death, and having Mr. Patrick fix my hair and pat my cheeks while I got hateful looks from the other girls—but I pulled it off!”

  A few minutes later, Ali was propped up in bed, eating tomato soup and a sandwich. She wanted to ask for more but she didn’t want to seem well so soon.

  Aunt July sat on the edge of the bed, felt Ali’s forehead, and said, “No fever. I told you, prayer works!”

  Ali smiled and agreed, “Yeah, prayer is powerful.”

  After Aunt July had left, Ali slipped out of bed, took out her diary, and began to write.

  Mr. Patrick’s magical, loving touch brought me back from the brink of death today. I’m so in love! Then, using her imagination, she wrote a full page about how she and Mr. Patrick had gone outside and sat in his car, how he held her, stroked her hair, and told her she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and how he’d like to marry her someday. Then drawing on scenes from Splendor in the Grass, she continued for three more pages.

  Chapter Eight

  Ali was up earlier than usual the next morning, even though she hadn’t gotten to sleep until after midnight. She was hungry and decided she would start breakfast before Aunt July got up. She was in the mood for more than just a bowl of oatmeal and a piece of toast, which was all she had time for most mornings.

  She was mixing pancake batter when Aunt July came into the kitchen. Rubbing her eyes, Aunt July said, “What are you doing up so early? I got to bed late myself and I can barely get my eyes open. What are you making?”

  “My stomach was growling so loud it woke me up,” Ali replied. “I guess it’s because I had a fever yesterday and didn’t eat much. I’m making some pancakes and I thought I’d fix some eggs too.”

  Aunt July walked over to the stove and said, “I’ll finish up here. You go start on that hair. It’s a mess. Shampoo and use extra conditioner, then pull it back into a ponytail while it’s still wet. I swear I don’t know what to do with that mop.”

  “My hair won’t have time to dry by the time I get to school,” Ali said as she dropped the spoon into the batter. “A good cutting would help. I could lose two feet of it and then it wouldn’t be such a
mop. But I guess that’s against the rules, huh?”

  “Don’t start with me today, please,” Aunt July countered. “It’s not my rule. It’s God’s. Now get going before I lose my temper.”

  Ali hurried to the bathroom, shut and locked the door. She stuck her head under the bathtub facet, shampooed, conditioned, and then towel dried her hair. She opened the medicine cabinet, took out a bottle of baby oil Aunt July used on her cracked feet and dropped a dime-size amount into her left hand. She rubbed her palms together, ran her hands through her hair, then began to comb.

  When she had finished, she pulled her hair into a ponytail, then went to her bedroom and dressed, happy that she had a decent outfit and makeup waiting for her when she got to Toots’ house. She had to redeem herself from the frightful sight she had been the night before at the ballgame.

  Aunt July had a stack of pancakes and fried eggs sitting on a plate in front of Ali’s place at the table when Ali returned to the kitchen. As Ali ate, she couldn’t remember when food had tasted so good. After breakfast, she brushed her teeth, grabbed her coat and purse, and was on her way.

  The cold air on her wet hair gave her chills and she mumbled, “Thank goodness I don’t have far to go before I get inside again.”

  Toots was waiting when Ali arrived. Ali quickly changed clothes, applied her lipstick and mascara, and grabbed a piece of bacon.

  On the way to school, Toots asked, “What did you do to your hair? It still looks wet.”

  “It is, and I put baby oil in it,” Ali said. “I like the way it feels, and the smell reminds me of a baby.”