Roxie

A lady from the front desk showed me to the teachers’ lounge where the Vice Principal gave me the keys to my office and escorted me there. But then I made the mistake of wanting to get back to the teachers’ lounge, so I could make myself a cup of coffee. I've already gotten lost three times trying to find it, and on top of that, I now have no idea where anything is, including my office and the front gate.

Pleasantville Junior High has a typical California school layout, with outdoor hallways, and everything on a single level. With every turn I make, I somehow end up at the football field, which is shared with the High School just next door. I really should've taken the map with me, but it's exactly like me to just jump into something and overestimate my abilities to get back out. But I do always get back out, and I know, if I wander around for long enough, I'll eventually find what I'm looking for.

"Hey! You look lost," a woman says behind me.

I turn and smile at the brunette who looks to be about my age. She's standing at one of the doorways leading into the school building, holding the door open.

"I am," I say and approach, extending my hand. "I'm Roxanne Connor, the new guidance counselor, and I'm trying to find a cup of coffee."

She smiles too, and shakes my hand. "I'm Donna White, the English teacher. Welcome. I think I'll join you for that cup of coffee. Follow me."

I do, but by the time we reach the teachers’ lounge, I still have no idea how we got there.

"We're in luck," she says, setting two cups on the counter in the small kitchenette just off to the side of the large, airy and light-filled lounge. "There's still some of the stuff the secretary brewed this morning left. She makes the best coffee."

I find the milk and sugar while she pours us each a cup.

"This is your first day, isn't it?" Donna asks as I follow her to the sofa by one of the windows.

"Yes," I say, taking a sip of the coffee, which really is divine. "And it's my first ever position as a guidance counselor."

It's probably not a great idea to show this kind of weakness to a stranger, at least that's how my father would put it, but I've never been any good at not speaking my mind. Besides, this isn't some high stakes, dangerous job. It's a junior high school in a small town. She smiles at me conspiratorially.

"You won't have much work," she says. “The kids here are very well adjusted and well mannered. For the most part."

The way she says that last makes me think there are some who are not very well adjusted at all, but I'm confident I have that part covered too. I was a wild child myself, and I grew up surrounded by adults who never stopped being wild. I'll do just fine.

"Are drugs a significant problem here?" I ask, since I've been warned before taking this post that drugs, especially crystal meth, which is possibly the worst, can be a real problem in small towns in the middle of nowhere like this one.

She shakes her head. "It used to be bad for a time, but for the past year or so we haven't had an incident. It's worse over at the High School, but it's not bad there either."

"Good," I say. Drugs are such an insidious problem, and so hard to deal with. You can make anyone see reason, even a teen in the throes of puberty, unless they're on drugs. Then there's no reaching them. I know that from personal experience.

The bell rings, and Donna gets up. "That's me, I'm afraid. If you go over to the office, I'm sure the secretary will give you a map of the school."

"That's exactly what I need, a map," I say, getting up too.

"Have a good first day, Roxanne," Donna says as she heads for the door.

I almost tell her to call me Roxie, since that's what my friends always called me. But this is the new me, the start of my new life, so I just thank her before she rushes out the room. Connor's not my real last name either, it was my mother's maiden name, and I took it after I ran away from Lizard, since I'm sure no one knows it. My mom died when I was just two years old.

I take my coffee with me as I go in search of the secretary and a map. I'll spend the rest of the day going over the student files to see if Donna is right about there being not much to worry about. A part of me wishes there was, that I will have some troubled teens in need of rescue under my care. That way I can really prove myself, and do some real good in this world.

After my whole family was slaughtered, I spent a long time living on the streets, begging for change, afraid to tell anyone my name, so that Lizard wouldn't find me. I was on the verge of becoming a prostitute, when a social worker found me, talked to me, and presented other options. They involved working three jobs as I put myself through school, but I made it. I became a social worker, and now a guidance counselor, so I could help other young people with nowhere else to turn.

But that's just the excitement-seeking part of my brain talking, since not having any hard cases here would be a lot better for everyone involved. Before taking this job, I interned at a social services office in Seattle, and some of the cases I worked on there still give me the shivers when I think of them. No, it's far better to work in a quiet, small town where everyone is well-adjusted.

* * *

The guidance counselor who had this job before me left a list of students who need, or might need special attention, along with a short write-up of their history. And at the top of the list is Lily Eagle Feather, who I'm pretty sure is the girl I saw talking to her father this morning. The father I still haven't been able to completely erase from my thoughts. As for Lily's write-up, my predecessor only mentioned that Lily came to this school last year, after being schooled at an Indian Reservation all her life, and that her father refuses to take an active role in her education, even though that would be most advisable. That's not quite the impression I got watching them interact this morning though.

With my curiosity peeked, I go find her full file, but I don't even get to open it before a knock on the door interrupts me.

"Come," I call out.

Donna walks in and closes the door behind her quickly. "I'd hoped we'd meet again in more pleasant circumstances, but I brought you a student who's been disrupting my class."

"No worries. That's my job, after all," I say and smile, then pick up the list of problem children, so I can get a quick feel for the situation before I meet the kid. "Who is it?"

"It's Lily," Donna says exasperatedly, as in, Who else? "Lily Eagle Feather."

I set the list back down. "What happened?"

"She was telling the class about how she saw a baby die once, and wouldn't stop when asked. She made some of the other girls cry, and gave me the creeps, honestly," Donna says, rubbing her bare arms like she's cold. "I’m sure she made up the story, and she was almost expelled last year for similar behavior. I'm afraid the principal doesn't have any more patience for her. Nor did the old guidance counselor. She wouldn't have anything to do with her by the end of last semester. That's why I'm bringing her to you. Lily's the sweetest girl when she wants to be, the trouble is she doesn't want to be sweet very often. Part of the problem is also her father. He's a very scary guy, and not the easiest one to talk to about his daughter’s problems adjusting at this school."

I nod, trying to process all she just told me, and the stuff she clearly left unsaid. Like the fact that everyone's pretty much given up on Lily, and that I'm her last hope.

"What about her mom?" I ask, berating myself the second the question is out of my mouth. Because I didn't mean it as only a way to better understand Lily's home life. I also wanted to find out, if there is a mom in the picture.

"She's not around, the way I understand it," Donna says. "Lily won't say much about her, and as I already told you, it's nearly impossible to get any information out of her father."

"Bring her in," I say. "I'll talk to her."

I stop myself from adding that I've seen her father, and that he doesn't scare me. Or that he's the first real glimpse of home I've had, since I lost it six years ago. Because all of that is neither here nor there, and I'll never tell anyone the full story of my past. It's too dangerous and way too painful.

Donna nods and opens the door, motioning the girl to come in.

"Lily, this is Ms. Connor," she says sternly. "She wants to help you, please remember that."

Lily's eyes are nearly black, and they stab right through me as she fixes them on me. "I'm beyond help, don't'cha know?"

"Lily, really," Donna says exasperatedly.

"I'll handle it, Donna, it's OK," I say and smile at her. She shrugs, as if to say, “Good luck”, but not really believing it can be done, then leaves.

"Well, at least you're not the old hag," Lily says and plops down on the chair across from my desk with the familiarity of having been here many times before. Which judging by the thickness of her file she clearly has. "When is she coming back?"

"She has retired," I tell her and take my seat behind the desk, pulling her file closer. "I'm the new school guidance counselor. You can call me Roxanne."

The idea behind letting her call me by my first name was to make her feel at ease, but the mocking look that crosses Lily's black eyes tells me I might have just achieved something else. Not sure what, though.

"And you'll handle me? Is that your plan, Roxanne?"

She sounds like me when I was sixteen. But she's only twelve.

"What's this about seeing a baby die?" I ask her, getting right to the point, since I remember that I could never stand adults beating around the bush. "You should report something like that to the police, not scare your classmates with it in English class."

The mocking defiance in her eyes falters, is replaced by fear, which is bordering on tears. Maybe I've been too harsh with her.

"No police," she mutters in a barely perceptible whisper. "The baby didn't die. He was fine. But I dream that he did die, that happens in every one of my nightmares. And sometimes I die too."

The way she says it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. She's terrified of her nightmares, of something that happened to trigger them. That's why she's acting out.

"What happened to you, Lily?" I ask, trying to look into her eyes, but she won't meet mine.

"It was…it was… I'm fine now, I just have these nightmares. And my grandfather…"

Her voice trails off, and now her lips are a very thin line, as she keeps her mouth tightly shut like she’s trying to stop herself from saying anything more.

"Will you tell me what you dream about?"

She shakes her head. "It's just a stupid nightmare, that's all. I had it last night. Some of the other girls were teasing me, and I wanted to scare them, that's why I told them."

I'm certain she's lying, that she did see and experience something that traumatized her. But I'm equally certain she's not allowed to tell anyone. My father and my brother kept the worst of the club business hidden from me, but I wasn't supposed to tell anyone what I did know.

"Have you told your dad about the nightmares?" I ask.

"Sure," she says. "But he just tells me that it never happened, and that he won't let anything bad ever happen to me in general. He really doesn't like talking about it. Can I go now? I promise, I'll behave from now on. And I won't talk about my nightmares anymore, OK?"

She's fidgeting in her seat, her eyes darting from me to the door. She clearly can't wait to leave.

"Maybe I should talk to your dad," I say, opening the file to find his number.

She shakes her head, her eyes very wide. "No, that's fine. He's got it all under control. And he won't like it that I'm talking about that stuff in school."

"Does he hit you?" I ask, regretting my pointed question the second I see her shiver.

"No," she says.

The bell rings and she gets up. "Can I go? I have art now, it's my favorite subject."

"OK, fine," I say and scribble my mobile phone number on a piece of paper. "But I'd like to speak to you again. You can tell me anything, and it won't leave this office, I promise you. Take my number and call me, if you ever need to talk."

I hand her the piece of paper and she takes it, but I can tell she doesn't believe me, and that she's far from ready to tell me anything. She's right not to, since I probably can't deliver on my promise of not telling anyone else. If her father is putting her in danger with his activities, then it is my duty to report him to the authorities. But I'll try to keep my promise to her regardless.

About ten years ago, a waitress went missing in my hometown. She was taken by a man from another MC, and I knew exactly who it was, because I heard my father talking about it. It was Lizard who abducted the waitress, the same man who killed my family and tried to take me captive. But this was years before that, and I couldn't tell anyone what I knew, since it was MC business. Knowing about it ate at me for months. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I had nightmares when I did manage to fall asleep.

For a long time after he did what he did to us, I cursed myself for not reporting him to the police at the time. Things would be different, if I had, he'd be in jail and my father and brother and all their MC brothers would still be alive. But I didn't do it and someone saved that waitress before it was too late for her.

Maybe I have to be that someone for Lily, and deal with whatever she's seen that won't let her sleep at night.