My Dad's Boss(14)

     



 

"Ariel?" I called. My voice was still scratchy, probably from all the  crying, but I kept calling. It was such a pretty name. I just hoped that  its owner was safe somewhere.

At the end of the hallway, I looked out into the night. The trees were  blowing as hard as ever, but as they whipped back and forth, I got  glimpses of a dark shape, another building. I squeezed my eyes shut,  trying to picture what this area looked like when it wasn't dark and  scary as hell. Ah. That must be the old Goodwin Theater. Fifty years or  so ago, it had been used for student plays and productions.

Would there be any chance that she'd gone out there? But even as I  pressed my nose against the glass on the heavy door, I rejected that  idea. There was no way I'd go out there in this kind of storm, and I  doubt she would have, either. The moment I stepped outside, assuming I  could even push the heavy door open in the wind, I'd be locked out. And  the door of the old theater would be locked too. But wait …

Some memory was struggling to the surface …  something from my last year  of high school. I remembered squealing as Brad chased me, threatening to  tickle me if he caught me. We'd playfully run up and down hallways,  with so many places to hide, darting up and down the stairs when the  other got too close.

Stairs! That was it. There was a way to get to the Goodwin Theater from the basement.

Ten minutes later, I was covered in dust and panning my weakening  flashlight beam over an ancient, eighty-seat theater. Spiderwebs were  everywhere, and the red velvet covering the seats was in tatters.

"Ariel? Ariel, are you here?"

Nothing. Just stillness. Darkness. And then …  a sob.

"Ariel? Is that you? Please tell me. I've been looking for you. My name is Cassie. I used to go to school here."

My words echoed in the silence, but this time I felt certain I wasn't  alone. "Are you hurt? I want to help. Please say something."

At long last, a small voice floated through the darkness. "I'm here."

Thank god. I almost slumped to my knees with relief. "I've got an extra  flashlight. Tell me where you are, and I'll bring it to you."

No answer.

"Ariel, are you hurt?"

A long pause and then, "No."

I honestly couldn't tell where the small voice was coming from. The  noise of the storm was still pretty loud. I moved cautiously down an  aisle, pointing my flashlight all around.

"I'm going to bring you that flashlight, okay Ariel? Won't that be nice so that you can see?"

Another pause, and then. "Yes."

"Good," I said, mustering cheerfulness I didn't feel. "So, did you get  stuck here in the storm after school? Maybe you wanted to go home, but  the weather was too bad?"

"I didn't want to go home." The soft voice seem to be coming from my  left. Once I reached the rickety old stage, I could veer that way.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want them to find out."

"Them who, Ariel?"

"My mom. My stepdad. They'll hate me."

"They're very worried about you. They want you to come home. Why would  they hate you?" I'd reached the far aisle, and I could hear her sobs  more clearly now.

"Because I did something bad. Something wrong."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure they'll understand. That's what parents do."

"No, they won't. They'll be disappointed."

"Disappointed why?"

"Disappointed that I'm going to have a baby."

Oh, that poor girl. She was pregnant? And she hadn't told anyone? That  was something that someone my age would have trouble dealing with by  herself, let alone a fifteen-year-old. "They're your family, Ariel. They  love you. They're worried about you and they want you home safe. That's  all that matters right now."

A figure was lying on the carpet, halfway up the aisle. Cautiously, I  moved toward her. "There you are. Let me get that flashlight for you."  And as I moved toward her, as the light hit her torso, I gasped. I'd  been wrong. Getting her home was not the only thing that mattered right  now. Because I'd misunderstood her before. She hadn't meant that she was  having a baby in the future.

She meant she was having one right now.





Chapter Twelve





"OH GOD, IT hurts," Ariel cried. I was on the floor behind her, holding  her upper body against me as I'd seen a midwife do in a movie once. Not  that I knew what I was doing. I hadn't the slightest clue. "You're going  to just be fine. An ambulance is on its way," I said, omitting the part  about how they said it might take over an hour in this storm.         

     



 

But closer help was on its way, too. "And my dad's here. Do you know  him? Robert Davis, he teaches history. And Principal Conner is here,  too."

"Principal Hotter?" she said weakly, surprise in her voice, and I  couldn't help but laugh. I should have known that the high school girls  would've had some kind of nickname for a man as handsome as Nick.

"Cassie?"

Nick was here, thank god. "Over here! In the aisle on the left."

A beam of light swept over our heads. "Regular left or stage left?" came his slightly exasperating question.

"Just find us!" I shouted, and a minute later he did.

He knelt down next to us and took Ariel's hand. "I'm Principal Conner. I'm very glad to see you."

"You too," she said weakly and then cried out again.

"Is she having contractions?" he asked, looking above Ariel's head at me.

"I think so. She's crying out pretty frequently. Where's my dad?" He  should be here. Of the four of us, he was the only one who'd been  present at a delivery. My delivery. So, technically, I guess that meant  that both of us had been there.

"I couldn't find him. But I heard him in the distance, heading this way. I think he got your text. He'll find us eventually."

Ariel cried out again. "It really hurts."

"Squeeze my hand when it gets bad."

But she wasn't looking for pain-management techniques. "Please," she said, panting. "Please don't tell my mom."

There was a curse as something clattered from across the way. It sounded  like my dad had found the theater. "We're over here," I called out and  then spoke to Ariel as he made his way toward us. "Your mom needs to  know about this, Ariel. She can help you. That's what parents do."

My dad appeared, took in the sight of the three of us huddled on the  ground, and immediately started wedging flashlights in the seats around  us to give us light. "You called an ambulance?"

"Yes."

Ariel cried out again. I needed to distract her. "Why didn't you tell your mom about this?"

"I just couldn't. I knew she'd be so mad. When I got bigger, I wore all  these baggy clothes, and I stayed away from home as much as I could. I  figured I could refuse to tell the hospital my name and then afterward,  ask them to take it to one of those safe haven places, like a fire  house. Then mom would never know. But then this pain started, and with  the storm, I didn't know how to get to the hospital, so I stayed here.  Please don't tell my mom."

"Listen to me," I said hugging the younger girl tightly trying to  support her weight as she leaned against me. "Your mom will understand.  She'll help you. That's what parents do. They support their children, no  matter what." I couldn't quite bring myself to look at my dad when I  said that.

"It doesn't matter now, anyway," Ariel said, weeping. "We can't get to the hospital and the baby's going to die."

"Don't say that," Nick said sharply. "We're here to help. Mr. Davis here  has been a father for twenty years. He knows what to do with a baby.  And I take a first aid and emergency response class every Tuesday  night."

"You do?" Dad asked.

"Yes. I figured it was a good idea since I'm in charge of a school with a thousand teens who think they're invincible."

"Does the class cover childbirth?" I asked.

"It does-starting next week," Nick said, and I groaned. I was pretty  sure that Ariel wasn't following this. Sweat poured down her body, and  she was whimpering pretty much constantly now.

"I think she's getting close." I could actually feel her body tense with  each contraction, and they were even closer together now.

"Okay, Ariel, listen to me. Are you listening?" Nick said. He pushed her  hand at me and I took it, squeezing it as he had. "Does it feel like  you should push?"

"Yes," she said, her voice a long hiss of pain.

"Is this position okay?"

It took my dad a minute to realize that Nick was talking to him. "I  think maybe she should be squatting. Leaning against Cassie is good, but  more upright."

Nick stood and vaulted over the crying girl, coming to rest on her  opposite side. "Grab her arm," he told my dad. Together, they lifted  Ariel. She cried out in pain but was able to get her feet underneath  her. Once she was standing, the men turned away, and I helped her kick  her panties off. Thank god she was wearing a skirt. Then we eased her  back down again, arranging her in a squat with the backs of her legs  resting on my thighs. I pulled her head and shoulders back, urging her  to lean against me again.