Part I: Parting

Part II: Conditional Love

Part III: The Reckoning

Part IV: The Third Event

Chapter 6: Appearances

 As a part of her schedule, Christine helped out in the principal's office every day for an hour. Although it was an easy “A”, it hardly was the most thrilling highlight of her day. The one image that set her apart from the formality of the office with its walls littered with certificates and other awards was the fact that she looked like every other student on campus in faded jeans and a trendy top. Her straight blonde hair was streaked with an experimental red hair dye. Her mother had to admit it did look natural and not as rebellious as the original intent held. Christine’s fingers had recently been the testing grounds for Hillary Juarez’s latest attempts at a French Manicure. Although not perfect, Hillary was quite proficient considering she never had taken a manicure course in her life.

  Before her, lay her math book, opened, but unnoticed. She had given up trying to prove a trigonometric theorem. She never understood them anyway. With nearly five different ways to prove each theorem, and they give you the answer what is the point?

  To make this day even more heart stopping, Mr. Essenfield was talking to a new student and her parents. His ever so up lifting voice filtered through, unimpeded by the solid core door. He must be addressing an auditorium. Thought Christine. 

  “It is very unusual for a student to join our school district so late in the year, but Jessica is welcome, none the less.” His voice softened and became more relaxed and fatherly. 

  “It is going to be an especially rough week on you Jessica. Right now, all the students are reviewing for their finals next week. You have your work cut out for you.” Mr. Essenfield was not known for recognizing that students in the high school were able to converse with adults in an adult conversation.

  “No problem.” The nonchalant tone wandered through the door.

  “Jessica! You said you would behave yourself.” Came a horrified masculine voice that did not come from Mr. Essenfield. 

  “Would you like me to apologize?” the nonchalant tone wavered again. 

  The second hand clicked to its next mark with precision, echoing through the formal office halls. Christine could almost hear the office crickets pausing to find out what happened next. 

  “Forgive me Mr. Essenfield, I did not mean to be impertinent nor flippant.”

  “Jessica...” growled through the doorway.

  “Hey I...Never mind, please Mr. Essenfield, continue.” It was an admission of defeat. 

  “Well, I look forward to seeing you in class tomorrow.”

  Christine looked up at the door as Jessica, followed by two exhausted and embarrassed adults marched out of the office. Mr. Essenfield brought up the rear. He was hardly a tall man, although he was large. He was often the subject of student’s ridicule for his duck like stance, but took it in good nature. The principal pushed his glasses up on his nose with a flourish of his hand. 

  “Mr. and Mrs. Caudill, this is Christine, she’s in our top ten percent of her class.”

  Christine stood up, slightly embarrassed. “How do you do?” 

  “You wouldn't mind showing the Caudills and Miss Raycraft around campus?” asked Mr. Essenfield.

  “Not at all.” Christine raised a mental eyebrow. It wasn't often that students and parents had different last names. 

  Mr. Essenfield handed Christine a card with Jessica's classes. She hardly glanced at it. She knew the classes Jessica had been assigned by heart. Everyone took the same classes Art, English, Math, Science 2, History 11, Physical Ed. 4, and study hall. 

 “Thank you Mr. Essenfield for your time and patience. I trust I won't need to have to speak with you on Jessica's behavior.” 

  “It was my pleasure. We'll enjoy having Jessica as part of our learning experience.” 

  Jessie looked at Christine. To her, Christine was one of those over doers. She was neatly manicured and probably would freak at the sight of a mouse. Jessie wondered if she had ever lived by her. She had been a lot of places since her parents disappeared, but never back in her hometown, until now. But Jessie held no contempt for Christine, something about her mannerisms relaxed Jessie. In past six days since having arrived officially under the Caudill’s care, Jessie had resigned to trusting her instincts to keep her out of trouble. And on the seventh day, they were educated. Joked Jessie privately. 

  “Well, let's start this way..” She led them into the main corridor that ran through the entire one story school.

 “You can bring any clothes you want for P.E. You’ll be given a locker for your clothes tomorrow. The library will have all of your text books.” Began Christine. She indicated the open door that gave them all a glimpse of the library. Battered and overused ancient encyclopedias and a few donated magazines were the highlight of the collection. Jessie’s eyes wandered for a moment hoping to find something more recent only discovering most of the books in the collection she had already read. 

  Christine snapped her fingers remembering a bit of information. “If you’re interested, the choir is having tryouts for all sophomores tomorrow.” As she led them to the gym and the facilities beyond. 

  “That sounds like fun Jessica. Would you like to join the choir?” asked Mrs. Caudill. 

  Jessie bit her tongue to avoid saying something she regretted. The idea of singing for ‘fun’ didn’t quite sell Jessie on the school, let alone as an activity she would enjoy. 

  Jessie looked on rather detached. The school had all the basics; it wasn’t anything special. It disappointed her, however. She was eager to be academically stretched. 

  “What about accelerated classes?” Jessie finally asked. 

  “You have to be tested by the Principal before you can take any advanced class.” Replied Christine. 

 “How many students are in the accelerated program.” Jessie pressed her inquiry.

  “I think only one, and he’s graduating this year.” 

  “How would I schedule the test?” Jessie kept in step with Christine; the Caudills lingered behind. 

  “You get a waiver signed by all your teachers I think.” Christine recalled briefly and showed her the science labs, which were unusually empty for this time of day. “The science classes are on a trip today.” She explained. 

  Jessie made a mental note in regards to the waiver. Then out of curiosity, “Did you try to get in the advanced classes?” 

  Christine smiled and shook her head. “I like my freedom in the normal class load.”

  Compared to Jessica, Christine probably belonged with the Caudills. They looked from time to time comparing the two often-giving Jessica a look as if to encourage her copy Christine’s behavior.

  The halls were stark and empty surrounded by classrooms. 

  “Classes start at seven in the morning and run until four, with an hour for lunch.”

  “Only seniors are allowed to leave campus for lunch.” 

  Another nameless building that Jessie would pass the time in. She sighed softly and then squared off her shoulders, her hands clasped behind her back as she walked around with Christine and the Caudills in the halls.

  Jessie nodded as Christine droned on. Even Christine knew that there wasn’t much on the campus worth talking about, but the Caudills seemed blissfully pleased. Some twisted part of Jessie dredged up the image of the Caudill’s future child attending the campus and their understanding of the public school system would be replaced with abhorrence and scorn. Jessie sighed and reminded herself that the Caudills, like so many other foster parents before them were only going to provide the minimum necessary. She was just their stepping-stone. 

  Returning to the office, the Caudills thanked Christine for showing them the campus.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Said Christine cheerfully. The bell freed her from her obligations and she picked up her backpack and headed away to her next class. 

  “Wait, Christine is it?” Jessie called after her as she picked up Christine's math book. 

  Christine nodded and looked over. “The answer to the theorem can only be found if you work both sides down. You need to isolate the cosines.” 

  Christine looked at the answer before snapping the book closed, and then flipped to the back to see if the answer was there. And indeed, the only answer to this particular pair was as Jessica had described. “Thank you.” And Christine hurried to her next class.

  “If she’s going to college, she should know how to find the answer herself Jessica.” Mr. Caudill reprimanded quietly. 

  Though he held the door for his wife and Jessie, she nodded and trudged after the Caudills. Jessie was led to the car and reluctantly folded herself into the cramp leather interior. Jessie seriously wondered if these people knew that small children grew, as they got older. Jessie had this vision of an adult child of the Caudills dressed in diapers and stuffed into a car seat. 

  As they pulled away, Mr. Caudill looked in the rear view mirror and said, “Really Jessica, it doesn't become you to sulk.” 

  Jessie counted to ten and then tried to hide her sulking. While the first forty-eight hours were quite eye opening to Jessie, something about the Caudills just didn’t sit right with her. In the back of her mind she kept reminding herself to make an honest effort to get along with them, she did want to give them the benefit of the doubt.

  “Jessica, Paul and I are only trying to guide your experiences. If you'd only cooperate, we would all have a better time.” While the plea sounded genuine, it approached a whine. Jessie suppressed the desire to roll her eyes back. 

  “I'm working on it.” Jessie was a little terse, and she regretted it. 

  “Do you need anything for school? I'll be more than happy to drive past a drug store.” Paul Caudill attempted once again to provide a bridge. 

  “No thank you sir. I'll manage.” It was brief but true. There wasn’t anything she needed. Jessie rarely needed anything when it came to school supplies, managing to squeak by on \ the barest of necessities. 

  Mrs. Caudill was encouraged by her husband’s attempt and spoke up with a critical tone. “Jessica, if you wouldn't be so.. Cold. Can't we all be friends?” 

  Mrs. Caudill reached over the bench seat up front and tried to touch Jessie in an endearing way. Jessie, who had thought that she had made it clear that she didn't like hugs and other sorts of physical contact, anticipated the move and scooted out of the reach of the slender red nails.

  “Don't worry about anything Mrs. Caudill. It isn't any concern of yours.” Jessie realized that Mrs. Caudill did have a point, but right now it was more than she could take.

  “Jessica, how can we be a family if your concerns aren't also ours?” Mrs. Caudill was clearly hurt and pleaded again.

  “I don't feel like talking about it.” Jessie insisted.

  Mrs. Caudill continued, ignoring Jessica’s droll comments. “Is it something you'd just like us girls to talk about? Maybe after dinner.” 

  Jessie finally had had enough and blurted out in order to prevent a ‘girl’s night only’ with Mrs. Caudill. “Sometimes, talking isn't a solution, it's a part of the problem.” 

  Paul realized that the incarnate-of-whatever they had in the back seat was going to tear Nancy to shreds. He reached over and took one of his wife's hands as they drove into the carport. 

  Jessie was mentally exhausted from trying to contain all the days of unspent energy. She hoped fervently that physical ed. would contain a lot of running. And she hoped a lot. The front door to the Caudill's perfect world never looked more inviting, and frankly, that scared Jessie. She didn't want to become at all attached to anything of the Caudills. 

  As soon as she could, Jessie scrambled into the room. She changed out of the stuffy clothes that Mrs. Caudill insisted she wear and into gray sweats and a white t-shirt. She looked over her meager tape collection, mostly pirated from other tapes and CD's that were owned by previous foster parents. She shortly decided that she wasn't' going to further damage the day by playing some music that would definitely break up the “happy home” image the Caudills so very much wanted. 

  Though, she had to admit, it is tempting.

  Jessie began to do some light stretches, working muscles that didn't know any better. She then proceeded to crunch out sit up after sit up, not bothering to count knowing she'd stop when she got tired. She knew her limits and really paid attention to them, however, other people in her life never seemed to understand them otherwise.

  Jessie lived simply, never really attaching herself to anything or anyone. She enjoyed the fact that she ‘didn’t own much and didn’t take much.’ She couldn’t wait to get out of the foster system. She knew she could get emancipation once she graduated from high school, and that silver lining in her future held such promise. She’d get a job, scraping spit wads from the drive-in windows at a fast food restaurant if it meant she could have her own place to call her own. She wasn’t looking forward to having to give up school; something inside her knew she could be a really great academic. But life called her, despite her youth and inexperience. Jessie quelled her fears of failure by reminding herself that she had nothing more to loose. 
Everything she had ever counted on was gone: her family, her ability to remain needlessly innocent for as long as possible, and her privacy. She had been dragged through the ‘system’ from home to home, sometimes the transition happened so quickly, she could barely get her shoes on before she left. Nothing was ever truly hers.

  In the early days, she had thought if she had been ‘good’ everything would turn out all right. She was almost mechanical in response. It made her father and Livvie’s disappearance seem lifetimes away. Now these eight years later, coming full circle to realize that there was nothing she could have done, Jessie just wanted to move on and make a life for herself. What her foster families hadn’t been able to give her, Jessie found in herself. She dredged up a strength and desire to continue that had been mistakenly labeled once as being stubborn.

  She stopped; exhausted after fifteen continuous minutes. All the years of training were finally beginning to pay off. She looked at the calendar. She had four weeks to find a dojo that would take her to the State Championship. Even if the Caudills didn't approve, they couldn't say no if she found everything out for herself. She sat for a minute. She finally decided that it was the faux effort Mrs. Caudill forced to make this family work was bothering her. But she couldn’t change Mrs. Caudill. She pushed the Championship out of her mind and began to meditate.

  That's how Mrs. Caudill found her two hours later.

  “Jessica, it's dinner time. Are you feeling well?” 

  “I'll be down in a minute.” Jessica reluctantly got up. It was going to be another long hour of drudgery.

  “Paul, would you please carve the ham?” asked Nancy as she placed the main dish in the middle of the table.

  Paul stepped up and began to slice the ham. Jessie had to smile. She wished she could take a picture. If this wasn’t a Norman Rockwell setting she wouldn’t know what was.

  “Next week, the garden club will be here for a dinner potluck.” Reminded Nancy.

  “I think that will be a wonderful time for Jessica.” Jessica passed her plate, cringing at the thought of spending an afternoon with a ‘garden club’. Granted none of her previous foster parents had belonged to ‘garden clubs’ but Jessie was certain that it was more than elitism that made the divide in this comparison of haves and have nots. 

  “Pass the salad please Jessica.”

  After everyone had been served, Paul and Nancy began to eat discussing their next week’s events. Paul was conveniently out of town the night the garden club would visit, leaving Jessica to the wolves by herself. Lucky dog. Envied Jessie. 

  Jessie paused and closed her eyes and said a quiet blessing. 

  “Jessica aren’t you hungry?” asked Mrs. Caudill pausing before she began her dinner. 

  Jessie cut her blessing short, sidetracked by the question. 

  “I prefer to give thanks at dinner. I thought we discussed it before?” She answered annoyed. What is up with this? This is grating.

  For on brief moment, Paul was impressed with something that had come out of Jessica. 

  “Well, don’t do it when the Garden club is here.” Reminded Nancy. 

  Jessie counted to ten, but still wasn’t satisfied with the way this argument was turning out. This was going to be finished here and now. Jessie pushed herself back from her plate. “I don’t see how my religious choices are going to impact your role in your society.” 

  “It’s inconsistent, and inconsiderate. Paul and I do not pray before eating.” The matter of fact answer came from Nancy. Jessie’s eyes bored into her, wondering if Nancy had inhaled too much hairspray today or something. 

  Or maybe the cleaning solutions at the school muddled her thinking patterns.

  “If the Garden club cares what one member’s child does, are they truly worth spending time with?” Argued Jessie.

  “All people with class give something back to their community.” Nancy looked prim and proper with her socially conscious answer. 

  “All members of a community give what they can to their community.” Countered Jessica. 

  “And how is an unfortunate soul like yourself able to give back to the community?” asked Paul thoroughly interested in what was transpiring. He hadn’t even had as good of argument at work. He cut his food slowly watching his wife butt heads with a teenager and a small smile came across his lips. The girl is bright; I’ll give her that.

 “I start with praying at dinner, and you would be surprise what a genuine ‘hello’ to someone who really matters would do. The little things matter as much as the big things in life.” 

  “Jessica, I would wish that you would find a better conversation piece. I’m absolutely appalled that you would find nothing better to do at the dinner table than to argue with Paul or I.” 

  “I don’t understand, I’m not converting you, or asking you to change your lives for my beliefs. I believe in giving a moment of thanks each day. I happen to do it at dinner.” 

  “Jessica do not argue with us. We know what’s best for you.” The finality of the statement drew ire. 

  “You can’t make me believe that I am not allowed to practice any part of my faith in this house. You should have some comfort that I’m not a religion like Wiccan or Scientology, or any of the other non-Judo-Christian faiths. Would you rather me an atheist? Would that make you feel more socially conscious about taking me in?” 

  “Jessica, if you cannot conduct yourself at dinner, I would suggest you leave the table and your plate here, and go upstairs to your room.”

  “With full pleasure.” Jessie balled her napkin and tossed it on the linen tablecloth.

  As Jessica left walking up the stairs, she moderated herself, she’d not give them the benefit of more of her frustration, she heard Paul softly say, “Nancy, from a legal standpoint, she does have a point about her choice in religion.” 

 “She lives here in this house and will follow what we decide Paul.” Paul said no more.

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