Like Dandelion Dust by Karen Kingsbury
Once again, Molly felt the room start to spin. What was happening here? They were talking about documented bruises on their son’s body? At the hands of a convicted felon? A domestic-violence offender? Had the whole world gone crazy? Joey would never be safe with a man like that—never! She tried to focus. Jack was talking now.
“What I’m saying is, did anyone ask Joey what happened?”
“The Porters told me the story in front of him.” She shook her head as if to say that wasn’t how things were supposed to work out. “I pulled Joey aside and asked him if the story was true, if that’s how he got the bruises.”
“What did he say?” Molly couldn’t sort through her emotions fast enough. One moment she was furious, the next she wanted only to take Joey in her arms and rock him until he felt safe again.
The social worker gave a thoughtful nod. “He said it was true. What I didn’t like was how he kept looking over his shoulder while I was talking to him.” She hesitated. “I think he’s afraid of Rip Porter, but I can’t prove it.”
“So, isn’t that enough?” Jack’s voice was a study in controlled fury. “The man’s served time for domestic violence. He leaves bruises on my son’s arm. Certainly the judge won’t give the man custody now.”
Mrs. Bower pressed her lips together. “If you and Joey were walking and he tripped, you’d reach out to catch him, too. And you might leave bruises on his arm.” She lifted her shoulders. “I have no choice but to believe the story. Without Joey’s testimony, no one would ever blame Rip Porter for a few little bruises.”
Molly read more into the woman’s statement. “Meaning what, exactly?”
“Meaning it’d take a lot more than that for anyone to accuse him of abusing his own biological son.” She looked intently at them. “Children rarely testify against adults, Mrs. Campbell.”
“But if the Porters are lying”—Jack’s mind must’ve been headed in the same direction as Molly’s—“and if we could get Joey to tell us that, then wouldn’t the judge throw Porter back in prison and let us keep him?”
“No.” Allyson was a strong woman from what they knew of her, a businesswoman. But in that moment she looked sad, even vulnerable. “The system doesn’t work that way. The paperwork was forged, so by the court’s standards, Joey’s adoption was never completed, never official. If Rip Porter walked into a downtown bank and held it up at gunpoint with a dozen witnesses, they could send him to jail for the rest of his life, and still Joey would not belong to you.” She tapped the file in her hand and looked from Molly to Jack. “Joey’s adoption never took place. Not legally.”
After Allyson left, Molly and Jack cuddled with Joey and Gus on the sofa. They watched Disney’s World’s Greatest Athlete and laughed when the coach’s team was so bad, his football players didn’t know which direction to run. When Nanu, the jungle boy, came with the coach to the United States to help the team, Joey sat on the edge of his seat. Clearly he was amazed at the way the jungle boy could run and jump and hit and throw. But near the end of the program, Joey cried quiet tears. “Nanu doesn’t want to win. He just wants to be home.”
“That’s right, Joey.” Molly kissed his head.
He looked up at her. “’Cause home’s the best place.”
Jack and Molly exchanged a look. Then Molly said it was time to get Joey’s pajamas on. They walked him up to his room and she took his T-shirt off. The bruises were easy to see. They couldn’t have been made by anything but an intentional grab at their son’s arm.
Molly ran her fingers over them. “Joey . . . what happened here?”
Joey stayed silent.
“It’s okay, baby.” Molly kissed his cheek. “You can tell us. You’re not in trouble.”
Joey bit his lip. Gus moved into the room and for a few seconds he was distracted, petting the dog.
Jack tried this time. “Joey, tell us about the bruises, sport. What happened?”
“You can’t t-t-tell that other d-d-daddy, okay?”
Molly wanted to cry an ocean of tears. When had he started stuttering? Was he that afraid, that worried that somehow the “other daddy” would hurt him? In just one brief visit? What would a lifetime with a man like that mean for Joey?
“That other daddy is Mr. Porter.” Jack’s tone flowed with compassion, putting Joey at ease. “He won’t find out. I promise.”
Joey ran his other hand over the bruise and his eyes grew damp again. “That m-m-man was m-m-mad at me. I was laying d-d-down and he wanted to talk to me.” The stuttering was worse with every sentence. “He grabbed me and made me sit up. Then he yelled at me. He t-t-told me pretty s-s-soon he would t-t-teach me a lesson.”
Jack groaned and leaned against the wall.
Molly could only imagine the battle her husband was waging inside his head and heart, because the war inside hers was just as fierce. If Rip Porter were standing in front of her, she would punch him square in the face. How dare he lay a hand on her son? It didn’t matter that Rip was Joey’s biological father. The man was a stranger, and a bad guy at that.
She ran her fingers gently over the row of marks on Joey’s arm. “Buddy, why didn’t you tell that to Mrs. Bower?”
“’C-c-cause . . . that mean daddy was watching us. If I t-t-told the t-t-truth he might hurt me again. M-m-mostly I talked to God. He stayed with me the whole trip.”
Jack rolled his eyes. Molly understood. What was God doing to help them? Joey had gone to Ohio despite her prayers and Beth’s, and he had come home physically and emotionally damaged. Still, Molly refused to be cynical, at least where Joey was concerned. She leaned close to him. “I’m glad God was with you, buddy. I’m glad you weren’t alone.”
Jack took Joey into his bathroom to help him brush his teeth, and Molly unpacked his bag. Near the top she found the stuffed bear. She held it up. “Joey? What’s this?”
“What?” Joey peered out from the bathroom. “Oh, that’s Mr. B-b-bear. He’s Mr. Monkey’s new friend.” Even ten minutes after talking about the bruising incident, Joey’s stuttering was less than before. “The other daddy gave it to me.”
In that moment, Molly knew what Mrs. Bower meant about children and abuse. Of course they didn’t testify. Something inside children made them forget about traumatic events, like a safety mechanism in their hearts. One minute Joey had been terrified of Rip Porter. The next, he was happy about having received a stuffed animal from the man.
Half an hour later, when his bag had been unpacked and Mr. Monkey and Mr. Bear and Mr. Growls were tucked in on one side and Gus on the other, and when Joey was asleep, Molly and Jack stepped out into the hall. Molly stopped and faced him. She had just one thing to say.
“Jack . . .”
“I won’t have it, Molly.” He was fuming, pressing his hands against his temples and dropping them to his sides again. “I’d like to get my hands on him just for one minute! Grab a little boy who’s already scared and alone and—”
“Jack . . .”
“No, I’m serious, Molly. This isn’t right. There has to be a law in place that’ll protect kids, because I’m not standing around and waiting until that man does something drastic to my son before—”
“Jack!”
He stopped. “What?”
She searched his eyes. When she had his full attention she opened her mouth and said the thing she never thought she’d say. “I’m ready for your plan.”
That had happened just the previous night. Now here they sat in the park, ready to set the plan into motion—whatever the plan might be. A plan that would force them to cut ties with everything and everyone they knew in the United States and start life over again.
Molly felt as terrified and shocked about the idea as ever. No matter what they did, life was about to take a wild, frightening, uncontrollable turn. Jack’s plan was worth pursuing because at least they would take that turn with Joey. Not without him. At the end of this very long, very dark tunnel, that was the only light whatsoever.
Jack walked back to
She felt her throat grow thick. How had he known? This—his love for her—was exactly what she needed to hear right now. That whatever they faced, they’d face it as lovers and friends. She returned his kiss. “You’re all I need, Jack.” She allowed herself to get lost in his eyes. “I trust you. Whatever we have to do, we can do it together.”
They settled back against the bench and kept their eyes on Joey. “Okay, Molly.” Jack put his arm around her and cradled her head against his shoulder. “What we’re about to do, our plans, our conversations, all of it must never—not for a minute—be discussed with anyone else.”
Molly was about to say that his warning was unnecessary. After all, they were making plans to leave the country, to create new identities for themselves.
But then he looked at her, his eyes full of sorrow. “That means Beth, too.”
Everything around her faded. The sound of the birds, the subtle breeze, Joey on his swing, even the pounding of her own heartbeat.
Beth.
Why hadn’t she thought about her sister? Molly sat back and looked straight ahead again. Her junior year of high school, she had played a pick-up game of basketball at lunch with some of the drama kids. None of them had much experience in sports, and one of the guys winged the ball at her when she wasn’t ready. She had taken it right in the gut, and it was half a minute before she could breathe again.
She felt that way now.
Leaving Florida, leaving life as they knew it, leaving everything about Jack and Molly Campbell—she was ready for all of it. But leaving Beth? Forever? Molly bent at her waist and leaned over her knees. She was getting her wind back, but her heart was still spinning out of control. Beth had been her best friend all her life. She shared everything with her sister.
“Molly . . .” Jack put his hand on her lower back. “You hadn’t thought about Beth?”
She squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds, then slowly sat up. She turned to Jack and shook her head. “I guess not.”
“You can’t tell her any of this.”
“No.” The right answers were easy. Putting them into play would be another thing. She would be working through the most difficult, most painful time in her life, and she wouldn’t be able to tell a word of it to Beth. Then, when all the plans came together, she would have to do the impossible. She would say good-bye to her sister and friend, knowing they would never see each other again.
Once more she faced forward and looked at Joey, at his pale blond hair dancing in the warm breeze as he pushed himself higher, higher. She had no choice about Beth. In a few months, Molly Campbell would be dead, and so would her relationship with her sister. Molly steeled herself against the pain that would come. She would do it all for Joey.
There was no other way.
She nodded. “I understand.”
“All right.” Jack sounded relieved. He angled himself so he could see her better. “I’ve been thinking of a plan.”
“Okay.” Her heart bounced around inside her. She felt like she was standing at the open door of an airplane, about to jump. Only she wasn’t even sure she had a parachute. “We have to get out of the country, right?”
“Right.” Jack’s words picked up speed. “That’s the hardest part, because we have to answer to Allyson Bower.”
“Not for everything.” Molly felt the fight finding its way back to her. The energy felt wonderful, like she was less of a victim. “We share custody of Joey until that last visit. Isn’t that what she said?”
“True.” Jack thought for a moment. “In that case, it just might work.” He tapped his knee a few times, something he only did when he was excited or nervous. “I went online and looked at work trips to Haiti. You know, the sort of trip Beth and Bill are taking with their church.”
Molly felt a chill pass over her arms. Were they really doing this? Really having this conversation about how they could find their way out of the country? The temperature was over eighty degrees that afternoon, but she was suddenly cold. “Okay.”
“Anyway, I was looking for a humanitarian group, the Red Cross or one of the international groups for humanity. Because it might look funny for two people who’ve stayed away from church to have a sudden interest in missions.”
“True.”
“Except here’s the problem.” He turned his hands over, baffled. “I couldn’t find any in our area taking a trip in the next few months.” He chuckled. “The only groups I could find were a handful of churches.”
“Hmmm.” Molly wasn’t sure why, but she felt vindicated. At least on Beth’s behalf. “Maybe we’ve been wrong about church.” She thought about Joey’s recent conversations with God. “About God, too.”
“Maybe.” Jack waved his hand, clearly anxious to move on. “We can talk about that later. The point is, most of the work trips won’t let volunteers bring children younger than twelve.”
Molly was confused. “So how is this going to help us?”
“One church in our area is doing a trip over Labor Day—it’s an outreach to an orphanage.” His eyes danced, and he lowered his voice. “People are encouraged to bring their whole families. That way the American children can play with the Haitian children while work is being done on the building.”
Again Molly’s heart beat harder than before. Jack had never looked more serious. “What church?”
He looked intently at her. “Bill and Beth’s.”
She froze for a moment. “You’re kidding.”
“No.” He shook his head. “So first thing when we get home, you need to call Beth and tell her we’d like to come to church with them next Sunday.” He covered her hand with his. “I know the two of you are close, but you have to do your part here, Molly. You can’t give her a reason to suspect anything.”
“Oh, sure.” A sarcastic laugh came from her. “Just call her up and tell her we’ve changed our minds? After a decade of thinking they’re weird for going to church and believing in the Bible, all of a sudden we’re supposed to want to go to Sunday service?”
Twenty yards away, Joey waved at them. “Hey! Guess what?”
“What, sport?” Jack instantly turned his attention to their son.
“I’m gonna land this plane and go on that rocket ship.” He pointed to the jungle gym, the one with two slides built into it.
“Sounds good!” Jack kept his tone cheerful. If anyone was watching them—even someone who knew them well—no one would have guessed they were making plans to leave the country, to run from the authorities and start life over again.
Joey slowed down, jumped from the swing, and ran to the jungle gym. He would be busy for another fifteen minutes at least.
“Yes, Molly.” Jack turned back to her. His voice was quietly urgent. “That’s exactly what you do. We’re in the middle of the biggest crisis of our lives. People go to church when they’re in crisis, right? Isn’t that what they do?”
Molly thought about that. He was right. After September 11, record numbers of people filled churches for months. Tragedy, she remembered hearing a newscaster say, is the open door to finding faith. From the first day she’d learned about the fraudulent adoption papers, she’d discussed the matter with Beth. Her sister was praying for her and with her. Maybe she wouldn’t think it was so strange that now they wanted to go to church.
“Okay, so I call Beth.” She was still confused. “Then we become members and get involved in a work trip all in the same afternoon? We don’t have a lot of time.”
“I know.” Jack didn’t look worried. Whatever he had in mind, he’d thought through the details. “You said Beth’s family is going, right?”
“Right. Last I heard.”
“Okay . . . so let’s just ask about it. It
“And the judge is going to let us go? Let us leave the country?”
“Work trips to Haiti happen all the time.” He pinched his lips together, determined. “We’ve always been involved in civic groups, Molly. Of course we might want a trip to Haiti to be one of our final memories with Joey.”
Molly had her doubts, but she didn’t say anything.
“Besides, we won’t be telling Allyson Bower.” Jack leaned over and dug his elbows into his knees. “The social worker said nothing about leaving the country, no rules or mandates from the judge.” He looked at the ground for a minute. “They aren’t checking up on us, right? We haven’t heard from Mrs. Bower since Joey’s visit.” He straightened again. “I say we just go. She and the judge won’t figure out what happened until we’re long gone.”
She heard the bitterness in his voice, but his idea made sense. She and Jack were adventurous, and they loved taking on civic projects. They had helped raise funds for the YMCA building in West Palm Beach, and they’d taken part in several 5- and 10-K runs to raise money for a local homeless shelter. Taking a trip to Haiti to help repair an orphanage was something they would have done.
Beth and Bill wouldn’t think that was strange, certainly.
It would be only natural that they’d want to get in on the work trip. The adventure would give them something to look forward to while they hammered away every day at the task of finding an attorney to fight for Joey’s custody.