Chapter 30
Still dizzy and confused, Hope sat back down. Even though the tornado was over, the room spun as she faded in and out. After being plied with water, coffee, and a frozen bag of peas for the growing knot on her head, she assured everyone she was okay. At this point, she wasn’t sure what she saw and wanted clarification.
Rubbing the back of her head, she reached for Willow’s hand. “Sit with me.” Hope stared up at her friend as Willow’s dreadlocks hung near her face. “Tell me what happened.”
Willow patted Hope’s hand. “Remember the tornado drill when we were in the teachers’ lounge earlier? You and I rounded up students in the hallways and school cafeteria since the basement was already full. Remember any of that?”
“Yeah.” Hope touched the growing bump on her head. “Ow, that hurts.”
“You should see the school nurse,” Willow said.
“Maybe later. Are the kids okay?”
Willow nodded. “Yes, Dr. Holmes and several teachers walked the halls. She gave the all clear and several students have already contacted their parents or boarded buses to go home. School has been called off for the rest of the day. I stayed behind with you.”
“What hit me? I think Britney said it was a tree limb.”
Willow shrugged. “I was herding kids over there.” She pointed with her head. “I didn’t see exactly what hit you but my guess is it was the huge tree limb that catapulted through the window. Whatever it was, it knocked you out cold for a couple of minutes. You scared us to death.”
“I remember the school janitor was about to give me CPR. I remember his face,” Hope said.
Willow grinned. “Yup. He sprang into action as if he were a paramedic or something. He knew exactly what to do. I’m so proud of him.”
“Providing CPR certainly isn’t in his job description.” Hope’s mind swirled. He’s a dead ringer for my father but Willow will think I’m crazy if I tell her. “What’s the janitor’s first name?”
“That’s the weird thing. He said he has bad long-term memory. He asked me to call him ‘Mac.’”
“Mac,” Hope repeated.
Willow nodded. “Yep.”
Hope couldn’t process both the tornado and her potential now-living father. She decided to focus on the tornado. “I want to see the aftermath.” She shakily stood and grabbed the wall as she held frozen peas someone had provided against her throbbing head.
After she regained her balance, Hope glanced around the cafeteria. Several tables and chairs were overturned and students’ paperwork was scattered like fall leaves. Willow steered her down the hall to observe the mess. Shards of glass were strewn across the floor in the hallways, cafeteria, and several classrooms. A few downed tree limbs had made their way through the arched window above the front, double doors and a trophy case had fallen victim. Gold basketball and football trophies and plaques were broken and scattered along the floor.
As they rounded the corner, the janitor moved his cart near some debris and began sweeping. Hope stared dumbfounded at the man before her. He was a dead ringer—no pun intended—for her dead father. She studied the janitor. His skin was weathered, his forehead more wrinkled, and his eyes were lackluster. He sported a large anchor tattoo on his left forearm. Dad didn’t have that tattoo. Maybe he does have a twin.
As she stared at the man, a few of the long-suppressed memories came flooding back. Hope recalled being surrounded by police officers at Hilltop. Suzy and Alex came to her aide. She had been too distraught to ask many details about the accident and had relied on her best friends to handle everything. It had always bothered her that her parents’ bodies were never found. For weeks afterward, the authorities had assured her that the dilapidated van had been sheared in half by the train. They said no one could have survived. Hope had not been in any state to question them. She recollected a witness mentioned blaring music and had observed Montana, her mother, outside the vehicle dancing in the street, most likely stoned. Her dad had been behind the wheel. Hope had always taken comfort in assuming the drugs she had always chastised them for had likely been soothing anesthetics in the end. Could the train have missed him? Maybe he was thrown into a tree? I feel like I’m in a soap opera.
As Hope gawked, the janitor stepped toward her and patted her shoulder. “Glad you’re better, Miss. You hit your head pretty hard.”
Hope bobbed her head while still holding the peas. She wanted to ask questions but the words wouldn’t come.
The janitor smiled at Willow, poised his broom, and said, “I’ve got to get to work ‘n sweep up the glass. I love these kids. I don’t want nobody to get hurt.” He walked away and began sweeping.
This isn’t possible.
Hope studied the custodian who simply swept the broken glass with seemingly no recognition of her. He was thinner than she remembered but still had the same long, stringy hair. He was the only father she had known most of her life. She could barely wrap her head around this moment and she was a counselor. But she was convinced this Mac guy was Larry—and Larry was Mac—the father who had raised her.
At the same time, she was saddened that Montana, her adopted mother, obviously hadn’t survived. Larry’s amnesia wouldn’t help solve the mystery. She wondered if he remembered anything—the impact or the crushing ordeal. Hope surmised that he was thrown into the nearby wooded area, was wounded, and unable to call for help. Her parents could barely afford food and beer, let alone a cell phone.
Hope’s imagination ran wild. Maybe a truck driver picked him up. Maybe he had his usual stash of pot in his pocket and exchanged that for a ride. No one will ever know unless his memory returns. For now, she was glad he was back and working at her school. What a coincidence for him to return to town and to Hilltop High. Something told her that part of his memory was intact. They just had to tap into it. Otherwise, this was too much of a happenstance. This was not the time to question him, though. The tornado aftermath, students’ safety, securing the school, and checking on neighbors were their priorities. This implausible whatever-it-was would have to wait.