8
Kaitlyn
“Kaitlyn, do you have a moment?”
Mr. Hallowell flagged Kaitlyn Wright down before she could make it out the door. The lunch bell had already rung, and as usual, her mouth was watering just thinking about it. But she stopped and smiled at him just the same.
Mr. Hallowell was her chemistry teacher, a portly man with an unfortunate bone structure and a constant air of disappointment. Kaitlyn was one of the few students who had discerned the better qualities that lurked beneath his gloomy exterior. She complimented him on his lectures from time to time, as a purposeful kindness, but only when no one else was listening.
“Sure, Mr. Hallowell. What’s up?”
“Well, as you might have heard, the Video Club needs a new sound technician, so of course we thought of you. Don’t worry, I know summer is upon us, but I was hoping you might take on the position in the fall, for your junior year? After-school activities do look good on college applications.”
Kaitlyn hated to say ‘no,’ and not just because of Mr. Hallowell’s puppy-dog expression. With Tommy Evans graduating, all the other members had approached her individually, begging her to step in. She was starting to wish she could join up just long enough to produce a video declining the position, so she could play it for anyone else who asked.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, smiling apologetically. “I really am. I know clubs and things look good for college, but I just can’t. I work at the G&G after school, and I don’t have time for both.”
‘The G&G’ was the Gears and Gadgets Repair Shop, where Kaitlyn had been working for almost two years, since the day she had turned fourteen. She fixed all manner of small appliances, from blenders to television sets, just barely bringing in enough money to make ends meet. She couldn’t afford to give up the job, but she didn’t want anyone to know how desperately she needed it either.
“Perhaps you could spare us just a day or two after school? And only the occasional weekend?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hallowell. Truly. I just can’t.” She stared up at him a moment longer, her messy brown hair falling across her soulful brown eyes. She brushed it back off her face out of habit, waiting for him to relent.
“OK, then,” he said, finally admitting defeat. “But if you change your mind before September, you’ll let me know?”
“I promise,” she said, her customary grin lighting up her face. “Thanks, Mr. Hallowell. May I be excused, please? Lunch smells delicious!”
“You may,” he said, chuckling.
She flashed him a grateful smile and rushed out the door, all but skipping down the hallway, the alluring scent of hot dogs pulling her toward the cafeteria.
• • •
“Hey, Zack-Attack.”
“Howdy, Kit-Kat.”
“What have you got for me today?” Kaitlyn put down her backpack and slid past the counter into the G&G’s workshop. She ran one hand over the utilitarian shelving—overflowing with wires and switches, rags and rust remover, motors and metal housings. Just walking in the door was enough to make her sigh in relief. The smell of grease and old electrical parts settled her.
“Couple things came in this morning, actually.” Zack frowned. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to do anything with them though.”
“Really? Let me see!”
He laughed at the way her eyes lit up.
“I swear,” he said, “you’d think I was handing you a Christmas present.”
Kaitlyn giggled and then ‘oohed’ and ‘ahed’ as he pulled her new treasures out from under the countertop.
“This—” he said with a flourish, but she yelped and bounced up and down, interrupting him before he could utter more than the first word.
“An RCA color TV!” she exclaimed delightedly.
“Is an RCA color television, yes,” he finished, chuckling at her enthusiasm. “I think the vacuum tube is messed up in it.”
“Oh, we can find you another CRT, you adorable little thing, don’t you worry,” she said, crooning at the television and patting it reassuringly.
“Little? Really? This thing weighs a ton.”
“It’s still small, though,” she said, defending her new charge. “It’s just heavy because of the technology. They used tubes in computer monitors, too, for a long time. We can find one. If that’s what’s wrong with you.” She said this last directly to the television, staring at it in a thoughtful sort of way.
“Yes, well, before you get too caught up with that to notice me, let me show you the other thing, too.”
“Hmm?” she mumbled, already sounding distracted. “Oh! Sorry. What’s the other thing?” She giggled, knowing full well that Zack was right. Once she got her nose into a project, she tended to stop taking in her surroundings.
“Here,” he said, not even trying to introduce the item this time.
“A Model G mixer!” she exclaimed, sucking in a sharp breath. “Zack, you’re full of surprises today!”
“I do my best,” he replied, winking at her.
“Did you know Kitchen Aid started building this model on the production line as early as 1927? This is genuine vintage, Zack! What’s wrong with it?” She took the appliance from him gently and began turning it back and forth.
“I did not know that, and I have no idea what’s wrong with it,” he admitted. “I haven’t even looked at it. I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of that much fun.”
“Thanks, Zack! You’re the best!” She placed the mixer gently on the counter and leaned over to kiss his lightly grizzled cheek before cradling the mixer in her arms again and carting it farther back into her work area.
“Don’t mention it,” he replied, shaking his head. “That’s just how I roll.”
• • •
Kaitlyn finally climbed the short staircase in front of her home at 8:00 p.m. The modest house squatted shoulder to shoulder with the others in the row, more of them standing empty than anyone wanted to think about. May was rapidly coming to an end, and the sun wouldn’t set until 9:00, but she was exhausted, nonetheless. At least school would be out soon. There would be that many more hours in the day to work and still get home to make her grandmother some dinner.
Kaitlyn had lived with Grandma Maggie ever since she was ten years old, when both of her parents had been killed in a car wreck. Her father had fallen asleep at the wheel, they said. Kaitlyn’s grandmother, Margaret Wright, had taken the poor child in—the last line of defense between Kaitlyn and foster care.
Over time, Grandma Maggie had needed more and more help just getting by. Kaitlyn had started doing the dishes and the laundry, and cleaning the house, and eventually making their meals. The house, thankfully, was paid for, but there were still groceries and monthly bills, and after Grandma Maggie’s medicines, the checks from Social Security just couldn’t cover everything.
The job at the G&G had been a lifesaver—just enough to keep food on the table and the power on and the water running so she could keep showing up at school looking as though everything at home were perfectly fine, so nobody would call the Department of Health and Human Services to go check on them and end up taking Grandma Maggie away and putting Kaitlyn in foster care.
It was an exhausting life, but Kaitlyn didn’t mind. She liked fixing things, and she liked taking care of Grandma Maggie, who had always done her very best to take care of Kaitlyn. And she definitely liked living at home more than she would have liked living with strangers. Of that, she was completely and utterly certain.
Kaitlyn turned the key in the front lock carefully so as not to make too much noise. Grandma Maggie liked to nap in the evenings, and Kaitlyn didn’t want to startle her. She opened the door and tiptoed into the hallway, avoiding the places where the old floorboards creaked, and then popped her head into the sitting room on the left, where her grandmother was fast asleep in her favorite chair.
“Hi, Grandma Maggie,” she said softly. “It’s me. Kitten.” Only her family had ever called her that, a nickname her mother had given her when she was a baby.
Her grandmother slowly opened her eyes. “Oh, hi, Kitten,” she said, and her smile brightened the room. “How are you, sweetheart? How was your day?”
“I’m fine, Grandma,” she replied. “How about you. Are you doing OK?”
“Oh, you know me, darling. Couldn’t be better. Give me a patch of sunlight and a good book, and I’m as happy as a clam. At least the old eyes are still good enough for that!”
Kaitlyn smiled. “That’s good, Grandma. Have you had anything for dinner?”
“Oh, let me see now. I’m sure I must have had something… a sandwich maybe?”
“Yeah? Did you make yourself a sandwich? You think you could eat a little something more for me? You know you have to keep your strength up.”
“Oh, I’m fine, Kitten. Don’t you worry about me.”
“Let’s go into the kitchen together anyway, OK? Will you keep me company for a while? I could make us some tea?” It was really just an excuse to get her grandmother to walk the short distance down the hall. The doctor had said she needed to get more exercise to keep her limbs strong.
“Well, OK. I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea.”
Kaitlyn helped her grandmother up out of the chair, grimacing at how easy that task had become. It seemed to her that Grandma Maggie had lost far more weight than she could really afford to, and Kaitlyn was getting worried.
When they reached the kitchen, she eased her grandmother into a chair and rummaged through the fridge. The loaf of bread she had bought the day before was still unopened, but she didn’t mention it. Her grandmother had just forgotten to eat again, and embarrassing her over it wouldn’t change anything tomorrow. Instead, she set about making homemade macaroni and cheese, a staple Grandma Maggie would always take a few bites of—even when she claimed she wasn’t hungry.
While she worked, Kaitlyn mentioned the Model G mixer she had seen at work that afternoon and then listened happily as her grandmother regaled her with memories of her very first apartment with Kaitlyn’s grandfather, who had died not long after Kaitlyn was born, and of the Model G mixer he had bought for her way back when.
“He must have fixed that poor mixer I don’t know how many times,” Grandma Maggie said, laughing. “He had a gift for things like that. For fixing things. Just like you do.”
Kaitlyn was grinning and pouring the sauce over the noodles when there was a knock on the front door. Her first instinct was to panic, but she forced herself to take deep breaths and think. There was no reason for DHHS to come to the house this late in the evening, and even if they did, there was nothing wrong. The power was on. The water was running. She and her grandmother were in the kitchen eating a late supper. There was nothing to worry about.
“Grandma,” she asked, “are you expecting someone?”
“Now, Kitten, who would I be expecting? Maybe it’s a boy from school, come to call on you, hmm?”
Kaitlyn laughed at this. “I doubt it. Stay here, Grandma. Let me get the door.”
“Thank you, darling. These old bones are a bit tired this evening.”
The front door had a tall, narrow window next to it, through which Kaitlyn could see a dark-skinned woman with a very personable smile. She was dressed in a skirt suit, but it didn’t look like anything Kaitlyn had ever seen on a social worker. The soft, yellow cloth had been tailored to her specifically, its feminine cut lending her an air of gentle confidence—a kind of serenity Kaitlyn would not have thought possible in a business suit until she had seen it with her own eyes.
“Hello?” Kaitlyn said, opening the door.
“Good evening! I’m sorry to bother you so late, but are you Miss Kaitlyn Wright?”
“I am,” Kaitlyn confirmed.
“Wonderful!” The woman smiled even more broadly, her teeth flashing brightly against her skin. “My name is Christina Williams. I’m here from the Institute for the Cultivation of Intuitive Cognition—the ICIC, if you will—and I am very pleased to meet you!”
• • •
A few moments later, all three women were seated at the small kitchen table, Miss Williams having politely declined a plate of macaroni and cheese, but having delightedly accepted a cup of Earl Grey tea.
“So, Kaitlyn, I presume you received our invitation in the mail?”
“Yes, Miss Williams, I did—”
“Please,” Miss Williams interrupted her. “Call me Christina. There’s no need for formality.”
“Well, Christina…” It felt strange to call this well-dressed, grown-up woman by her first name, but Kaitlyn took her at her word. “I did get it, but I’m afraid I threw it away.”
“Oh?” The woman raised both eyebrows in obvious surprise.
“Kitten?” Grandma Maggie asked. “What invitation? What’s this about?”
“Sorry, Grandma. It’s from that test. The one from a few weeks ago. They sent me an invitation to go to some kind of school this summer.”
“That’s wonderful, Kitten! But why would you throw it away?”
“Grandma, you know I have the job with Zack. He’s been good to us. And the school’s in Wyoming. I’m not about to leave you alone all summer.”
Who would feed you? She wanted to ask. Who would help pay for your medicine? But even if Miss Williams wasn’t from DHHS, she was still from the government, and government professionals tended to report problems at home. Kaitlyn wasn’t about to let on that they were struggling.
“If it’s the summer job you’re concerned about,” Miss Williams responded, “you needn’t worry. The scholarship comes with a considerable stipend.”
“What kind of a stipend?” That had Kaitlyn’s attention. “The invitation said there was a scholarship, but it didn’t say anything about extra cash.”
“Well, let’s just say there are additional benefits available for students who might be otherwise reluctant to attend.”
“Such as?”
“Such as…” Miss Williams paused as she dug about in her thin, leather briefcase. “Have you ever heard of this place?”
Having found what she was looking for, she pulled out a brochure and pushed it across the table to Kaitlyn. On the cover was a photo of the most expensive Continuing Care Retirement Community in the entire Detroit area.
Have I heard of it? Are you kidding me? she thought, running the brochure’s slick, colorful pages beneath her fingertips.
Kaitlyn researched CCRCs on the Internet at least once a month, dreaming that one day she might be able to set her Grandma Maggie up in a community that could give her the best care, all day long, all year round, so she wouldn’t forget to eat, or forget to take her medications, or fall while Kaitlyn was at work and lie there helpless until she got home. That hadn’t happened yet, but it was a fear Kaitlyn lived with every day.
But they couldn’t afford anything like that, not with a part-time job and a Social Security check as their only income. What kind of game was this woman playing? When Kaitlyn didn’t answer, Miss Williams reached one hand across the table and touched her arm, as though she understood what Kaitlyn was thinking.
“When we didn’t hear back from you, we took the liberty of making some arrangements. There is a spot for your grandmother here, if she wants it, whenever she’s ready.” Her voice was gentle and kind, a cool breeze brushing Kaitlyn’s cheek on a brutally hot day. She seemed sincere, but Kaitlyn could hardly believe what she was hearing.
“Don’t play with me about this,” Kaitlyn whispered.
“It’s not a game, Kaitlyn. You are… exceptional. Your country needs you, and we are prepared to do whatever is necessary to enable you to participate in this program. Other countries are pulling away from us when it comes to intuitional learning. We need to understand how you do what you do.”
“Like, you’re going to study me?” Kaitlyn asked, but she knew in her heart she would let them torture her on purpose if it meant her grandmother would be safe and well cared for.
“No,” Miss Williams said, chuckling lightly. She had a soft, friendly laugh that reminded Kaitlyn of sunshine and wildflowers. “You won’t be a Guinea pig, if that’s what you mean. You’ll learn things, just like in school, and you’ll take tests from time to time, but you won’t be graded. We want to teach other people to learn the same way you do, to help them become as exceptional as you are. We want you to show us how to do that.”
“But we can’t afford that place,” Kaitlyn protested. “What if I can’t do what you want—”
Miss Williams was already waving her concerns away.
“The offer is in exchange for your attendance, no strings attached. You give us this one summer, and your grandmother can live there for the rest of her life. There’s an apartment waiting for her, with a room for you, too, of course. We want the two of you to be safe. And we want you to be together.”
Kaitlyn clutched the brochure in one hand and reached out to Grandma Maggie with the other, finding and grasping her small, wrinkled palm in her own.
“I’ll go,” she whispered, still not trusting her voice. “I accept.”
Christina Williams smiled, acknowledging her decision, and for the first time since the death of her parents, Kaitlyn Wright burst into tears.