Part 7 (1/2)
Dear Brit: How are you? How is school? I hope you are working very hard and getting good grades. Portland is as rainy and gloomy as ever. I sure wish I could be somewhere nice and warm and sunny.
I wanted to give you some very exciting news about your Uncle Claude. His health is much better and he is again playing with his chamber music ensemble. He is very happy about this. In fact, his ensemble will be performing in a few cities, including San Francisco, Boise, and-you'll never believe this-St. George, which is very close to you! He will be there on March 15, and would very much like to visit with you. I have told him that, unfortunately, this is against the rules and not possible. But he wanted you to know about his plans and that he will be thinking of you when he performs nearby.
I hope you continue to progress at your school. Please mind your teachers and listen to your therapists. Spring is coming soon. And that means fireflies aren't long after.
Love,
Dad
”It's from Jed,” I told the girls at our weekly meeting. I was beaming. ”I can't believe it. I haven't been able to get a letter out to him because there's been so much snow and all the field trips have been canceled. I thought for sure he'd given up on me. But it was like he knew how low I was feeling, and just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, he sends me this.”
”Brit. Stop,” V said. ”Breathe.”
I stopped. I breathed. V held her hand out. ”May I?”
”Go ahead. Read it aloud.”
When she was finished, V looked at me and said, ”I suppose you'll be wanting to claim your Christmas present now.”
”Yes please.”
”Will someone explain what's going on? I don't get it,” Martha said.
”Yeah. I'm lost,” said Ca.s.sie.
”Uncle Claude-that's Clod, my band. They're going on tour. They're coming to St. George, and Jed wants me to sneak out and meet him. At least I think that's what it says.”
”That was my interpretation, darling,” Bebe concurred.
”V, how are we gonna do this?” I asked.
We all turned to V, expecting her to stop and ponder, but she immediately launched into a plan: ”Okay, here's the deal. There's supposed to be a Level Five and Six field trip sometime next week, so barring another blizzard, Ca.s.sie or I will make sure that one of us gets a spot. It's pretty easy to sneak away, and one of us will call my moles to see if they can pick you up. You'll use the pa.s.s key to unlock the door. I'll leave it in the fake plant next to Clayton's office. And listen up, because this is the fun part. At night most of the doors are alarmed, but here's the trick: If a door's left open, its alarm system isn't activated. So on the day of the concert, one of us is going to have to fake sick, get sent to the infirmary, and jam a piece of paper in the doorjamb on the way back. Brit, you just go to bed as usual.
”Now the goon goes to get his coffee at ten thirty, and then he takes a p.i.s.s. I hear him walk by every night. That's your window, Brit. You'll sneak out to the infirmary, climb the big cottonwood tree, and hop the fence. It's not easy, but it can be done. Your ride will be waiting for you. You'll be back by morning roll call, and you'll get in the same way you got out.”
V stopped. We all stared at her, our mouths hanging open. ”What. I've had a lot of time to consider this.”
”What are you still doing here, Moses? You obviously could've pulled an exodus ages ago.” Ca.s.sie was stunned.
”I could've, but where would I go?”
”What about the cameras?” I asked.
V shrugged. ”Look, this is risky. You'll for sure be seen by the cameras, but the question is, will anyone see what the camera catches? No one watches the closed-circuit TV, and they just recycle the tapes over and over. You know how cheap and lazy this place is.”
”It seems really risky, Brit,” Martha warned.
”I don't care. I'd walk through fire to see Jed. What do I do about Helga, the nurse?”
”She doesn't sleep here.”
”What about Tiffany?” Martha asked.
”Has Tiffany ever noticed you three missing for our meetings?”
”No.”
”We always make sure she's sleeping before we leave,” Bebe said. ”She snores like a freight train.” ”And this will be less risky because only one of you is leaving. Brit, bunch some pillows under the covers so it looks like you're in bed.”
”That solves the logistics. But there's another problem.”
”Birth control?” Bebe asked. ”You can get condoms in town, or maybe not. It's really Mormon around here.”
”Bebe! I'm not having s.e.x with Jed. That's not what I'm talking about. I was just wondering what to wear. All I have is this lame uniform.”
The girls fell silent for a second. ”Oh, that is a conundrum,” Bebe said. ”We can fix up your hair and do your makeup with my stash of beauty products. But fas.h.i.+on-wise? You might be stuck.”
”I'm sorry, but I haven't seen Jed and the rest of them for six months and I'm going to be mortified if I have to show up in chinos and a polo s.h.i.+rt.”
”I'd be mortified too, darling.”
”What about the clothes we were wearing when we got here? Does anyone know where they are?” I asked. I'd had on a vintage skirt and a Clash T-s.h.i.+rt. It wasn't exactly s.e.xy, but it was better than nothing.
”I was wearin' my pj's. They nabbed me at night,” Ca.s.sie said.
”Me too,” Bebe said. ”Though lingerie might not be too bad.”
”I don't think she's after the harlot look, Bebe,” Ca.s.sie said.
”It doesn't matter,” V interrupted. ”They keep all that stuff, along with everything else they confiscate, in a locked closet in Sheriff's office. Let's not blow the whole plan by trying to break in.”
”What about your secret agents in town?”
”They're nice and helpful, but of the sweats and sneakers variety,” V said. ”And much bigger than you.”
”You could make something,” Martha piped up.
”Out of what?” I asked.
”Maybe we could take a pair of shorts and pull out the seams and st.i.tch them into a cute A-line skirt. That wouldn't be so bad. And you could take the polo s.h.i.+rt and rip off the sleeves and collar and turn it inside out, so it looks kind of frayed and rough. And you could wear knee socks and your Converse shoes. That would be kinda punk, right?”