I am standing in a courthouse, on the stand, called to fight for my sister's freedom. Ava is trying not to cry. Arianna and I are pretty close as well. I don't know what to say, what I can do to keep my family together. I'm shaking in my Goodwill boots as I break down in front of the judge. "I love her. She's my big sister and I don't know what I'll do if I lose her. Please, please don't take her away from me," I end up begging. Clearly, something in the tears routine works. The judge's eyes soften a bit as she says "Miss Williams is clearly a troubled child. She has problems with drinking and smoking, which are both illegal for her, but at the same time she is desperate. Arianna will be fined three thousand dollars for her multiple infractions including possessing a fake ID, purchasing liquor and cigarettes, and driving under the influence, not to mention while underage. Her driver's license will be suspended for two years, and she will be sent to a youth mentor host in upstate New York, and as her sisters are also troubled as I understand, they may go along,"
Three nights later, my sisters and I are packing straight after our last day of school before summer, and before going to our host's house for a year. We'd be homeschooled and rehabilitated by them, and although Arianna was relieved she had no jail time and Ava was excited to live out of the IFPs' house, I was a train wreck. We didn't have a whole lot to pack, just a couple sets of clothes and some things special to us. Ari's favorite books, my lyrical and tablature notebooks, and Ava's little stuffed pink pony from our parents and her one Barbie doll were going to join us.
Our case worker from the program is a very perky, not older than thirty woman with very curly black hair and a plastered on smile. Her name is Brooke, and she'd been on my nerves since the moment I met her. The entire five hour drive included us listening to her chirp about this and gush about that, and I managed to tune it out until the conversation turned interesting. "Your mentors' names are Victor Lewis and Chris Hall. They're young, but wise beyond their years. Oh, you're just going to love their place. Fabulous. It's in such a cute little town, May Grove, and boy, do I mean little! Look, we're within limits," Brooke tweeted.
The sign I saw was hand painted in appearance, welcoming me to May Grove, population 716. Oh, God, this really was little. I hoped the kids were friendly, if there were even that many kids my age. Even more, I hoped there were no tricks. It already scared me enough that my mentors were two men. I can't handle that much. It was eleven at night, so no one was really out and about, but even so there wasn't much to look at. A few houses in the downtown area, two or three shops (one clothes store I knew Ava would love), a rough looking diner, a teeny library, a church, the tiny school (which apparently was K-12), a post office, and a TON of farms on the outskirts.
We ended up driving deep in the woods, where all I could see was what was in the headlights. Ava was asleep against my shoulder, and I stroked her hair reassuringly. After a good fifteen minutes, we arrived at a modest two story olive colored cottage in front of a smallish lake. On the white porch, a screen door clicks shut as Brooke crunches to a stop on the gravel drive. A really young guy, tan with wavy dark hair and a dolphin-perpetual-grin steps down to meet us.
"Hey, girls. I'm Victor, so glad to meet you. You must be Arianna, and you're Autumn, and that leaves Ava, right?" he greets us happily, shaking our hands one by one. "Thanks for taking them, Brooke. We'll take good care of them, I promise," Victor hugs Brooke and with a wave, she climbs back in the van and drives off. Victor claps his hands together and waves us inside. "Chris was just making some food, we figured you were hungry after a long day. Come in, don't be shy," he tells us. Ari and I follow him, as Ava has conked in his arms.
Don't be shy? It's a shame, too bad, I AM shy. So painfully shy...
