They

By Kathryn C. Lang

They control. They demand. They expect certain things.

Carla refuses to be one of them.

She searches to uncover the truth they have kept buried all these years before they have a chance to bury her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kathryn C. Lang
• Release date: Nov 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370790203

Kathryn C. Lang

#Hope builder. #Dream inspirer. Master of “it’s all about #relationships.” Aficionado of inappropriate laughter, Kathryn Lang has been helping others find the time to make their dreams come true. She shares with people that are trying to walk the tightrope of family, work, and faith – and keep them all in the right balance. She has a sense of humor, enjoys a little snark now and then, and references movies and songs in her every day speech. As an award winning author, master multi-tasker, and encourager extraordinaire Kathryn encourages you to laugh because laughter helps make this journey worthwhile.

Book preview

A Quiet Street

The quietest street holds the darkest secrets.

This was one of those streets.

The crisp blue sky, majestic trees lining the walk, and historic homes dotting the green lawns completed the image.

The cars started arriving and each one held a couple dressed in starched straight outfits fitting for the season and the time of day.

They had been gathering together for years, always in the light of day and never with a shroud of secrecy. Rumors – whispers really – floated about that the gatherings had been going on for centuries.

The whispers never went far. Nobody talked out loud about the meetings they had. The last thing anyone wanted was to be the epicenter of what was said or done in one of those gathers.

If you walked down the street on one of those days, you might notice how none of the surrounding neighbors came out of their homes – none of the neighbors that weren’t invited to the gathering that is. Even the animals seemed aware that it was not wise to be out wandering around.

The street stood still, holding its breath.

After three hours – always three – the front door would open and the starched outfitted couples would casually make their way to their cars. Some of the ladies would chat on the porch while the men murmured together on the sidewalk.

They shared pleasantries in the cool sun of the afternoon. It was always a nice day when they gathered.

They laughed – not forced laughter, but a light, carefree and honest laughter that would have left you wondering why the rest of the street seemed hidden behind their curtains.

But the rest of the street did stay hidden.

It wasn’t good if they noticed you.

If you had walked up on the gathering as they were dispersing for the day, they would nod an acknowledgment. It was not at all the reaction you would expect from people others whispered about in the shadows around town.

They appeared normal. They wanted it that way.

Chapter Two

New Girl

Walking into a new school never got any easier, even with all the practice Carla’s dad made sure she received. In the last few years, she had been to six new schools and they always stared at the new girl.

She had been prepared this time for the move. Even though her dad always said that this time would be the last, it never took long (or much) to make him restless for change. It would start with the distracted look, followed by the hours of staring at maps, and then the envelopes would begin to arrive. She would come home one day to find the whole house packed up and dad waiting to load it all up into the new opportunity.

They never talked about what happened. It was just a part of her life.

No matter where the new opportunity led them, Carla always had to face the school as the new girl. She had tried to make it a game in an attempt to make the experience more tolerable. She referred to it as New School Bingo. Her first goal was to identify the groups and determine their boundaries the second goal was to plot her escape. If she got all the pieces lined up before an eventful encounter, she won. If she didn’t, well experience had taught her that escape from people was the most important piece of this particular game.

The schools all looked similar from the outside, almost like one architect did one drawing and then traveled across the country selling the design to multiple school boards. Strangely enough, she had discovered they were also pretty much the same on the inside – cool kids, athletes, band kids, academics, theater troupe, artsies – the cast remained unchanged from school to school, town to town, and state to state. The breakdown of the number of groups seemed only to fluctuate based on the population of the current location.

Despite being prepared for the move, and despite knowing what she would face, Carla still struggled with the first step into the new school. Walking in for the first time always felt awkward. Her feet would try to freeze up. The air would seem unnaturally still and hushed. People would stare. People always stared at the new girl.

She pulled her shoulders back and forced a look she hoped would declare to everyone, I’m okay with this. She pulled open the door and stepped into the hall.

It was quiet and empty. A hum came from the end of the hall, which she soon found led into a large open space, most likely the cafeteria. She had braced herself for the normal stares, but this time she knew it was different. The buzz she had been hearing went silent. The air almost felt heavy. They did stare, but more through her than at her. None of them made eye contact. She realized it was the way they stared at her that made the atmosphere feel so heavy.

I AM okay, Carla told herself, hoping at the last moment she hadn’t spoken the words aloud. It was bad enough they were all staring, the last thing she needed was to out herself as the CRAZY new girl.

She took a step into the cafeteria. She took another step further into the cafeteria. With each step, she determined to look unaffected by the weight of their gazes hanging on her. Even more important, she needed to feel unaffected by that weight, and the more she pretended it didn’t affect her the more she believed it couldn’t affect her.

Her eyes went from face to face looking for something, anything, to help with the next step.

She went to her default game, something comfortable and normal to help her through. Name that group, she thought to herself. The group up against the wall were likely the troublemakers. They all had their sleeves rolled up and jackets on or over their shoulder.

The second group she noticed where most likely the academics. They had books spread out around the table and they were sharing their notes.

The one group, almost in the very center of the rest, stood out to Carla. The girls were all dressed in the latest fashions. The boys were propped around them, each sporting letterman jackets. There was not a hair out of place among them. Carla recognized this group from all her others schools, but only from the outside.

She watched them long enough that she realized she was now the one staring.

It felt like she had been there for eternity, easing her way across the cafeteria one step at a time, and still, nobody had made eye contact with her. Not until she exchanged glances with him. The dominant group circled around him. He held the center. And now, he looked at her, making eye contact, and smiled. The look warmed her and she felt her lips showing that delight.

Her heartbeat sped up when she realized what she was doing. Never connect with that group. Nothing good comes from connecting with them. She reprimanded herself for losing her concentration. Stick to the game plan.

Carla ducked her head down and made her feet match the beat of her heart. It was time to get out.

Being new was always a struggle. Being new and grabbing the attention of that group would only make things worse. Every school had its own rules, but that group always had rules you had to be in to understand. You had to abide by those rules even if you had no idea what the rules were or why they existed.

It was better for everyone if you could stay far away from that group.

She made her way to the office with no more encounters. Checking into a new school had become second nature. If you do something often enough, it gets easy. She had found her experience made it possible for her to handle the enrollment process sometimes better than the ones in the office. This time was no exception.

Wow, you are good at this. Ms. Stewart said as she and Carla worked through the process. The secretary had remarked to Carla at how few new enrollments they got. Most of the people who go here have been in this school system since birth. She laughed at her joke.

Carla tucked that piece of information away. She was certain she would need it in the future.

You should come to work for us. Ms. Stewart made the offer as they finished up the paperwork. You have a free period. We have an opening then.

Carla embraced the idea of filling in her free time with work. Sitting in a study hall or the library left too many variables for her to control. Could I?

You need to get approval from your parents.

That’s not a problem.

And it doesn’t pay very much?

I get paid?

Ms. Stewart laughed, both at the comment Carla had made and at her expression. Of course, you get paid. It’s not much. Just something for your efforts.

She could make some money, avoid the dead time, and stay in the protective ring of the office. It was a win all around. When could I start?

I’m fine with you starting tomorrow as long as you bring in your sighed paperwork.

Great. I’ll bring it first thing in the morning.

Getting her dad to agree to anything he might consider extracurricular would not be a problem. Even though her dad was always uprooting them and dropping them into what he assured her was a great, new opportunity, he still was eager for her to put down roots when they arrived.

Carla couldn’t stop smiling. It might not seem like much to some people, but getting the job in the office provided a huge boost for her. It was something, and something was more than Carla had in a long time. A job offered a nugget of peace to look forward to. The bonus being the money.

Her schedule had worked out for her as well. Art was always one of her favorite classes, and it was her last class of the day. She now had something in the middle of the day and the end of the day to help her get through the rest.

She crossed her fingers. Things were finally working out. Maybe this time her dad would manage to stay settled.

Her free period turned out to be the lunch period, which also was the longest class of the day. It made her more grateful for the chance to work during that time.

Lunchtime was the worst for the new girl. Everyone else had their assigned seats with their groups. The seats weren’t actually assigned until you tried sitting where you didn’t belong. Carla once determined that if she ever had the chance to create her own school that might be the option she enforced. It would help new girls from having to find a seat and then eat under the stares of the rest of the room.

She had noticed some tables outside. The weather was nice so she thought she might have a chance of grabbing her food and ducking outside before anyone noticed her. In the future, she thought it might be even better to bring her lunch so she could avoid the stares altogether. A bonus idea started to form. She could always stay in the office and eat or that was what she was hoping would be possible.

Carla had been waiting in line for ten minutes – which anyone who has had to stand in a high school lunch line knows is an eternity – when some girls stepped in front of her.

Under normal circumstances, Carla would have stood quiet and let the moment pass. Under normal circumstances, Carla would have seen the storm brewing and stayed under cover. These were not normal circumstances. She had only eaten a single piece of toast that morning because of the nerves stirred up by having to face a new school. Her stomach had been protesting for a while, and the smell of lunch cooking had only made it worse.

Plus, she’d been in and among the people for ten full minutes. Peopleing had never been her strong suit.

I was next. The words were out before Carla even realized she was going to speak.

The moment the words left her mouth, Carla knew they were a mistake. This was that group. The looks of shock from the people around her would have been enough to announce the problem. The fact the entire cafeteria went silent confirmed it. A clang from the back of the kitchen emphasized the silence that had filled the rest of the moment.

The girl closest to Carla waved around a spork like a deadly weapon – waving it back and forth. Carla assumed it was a spork because of its shape, but she wasn’t about to ask.

The weapon wasn’t all that threatening, it was, after all, an eating utensil. It was almost comical watching it wave in front of her. Carla would have laughed if it were not for the girl. The Spork Girl wore a look that was menacing even if the weapon wasn’t. Carla had enough sense, despite her hunger and the humor of the weapon, not to laugh.

Did you say something? Spork Girl asked.

Carla took a breath and used the moment to look around for help. Everyone in the room seemed to conveniently be looking at anything else. Every adult in the building must have packed up and gone out to eat. She was alone, and there was no good way to answer the question Spork Girl had left hanging out there.

I said, I was next . . . in line. She added the last part hoping to calm the situation. Carla also made her tone softer while also trying not to make direct eye contact. She remembered reading in a book about wild animals that these were some of the tactics to help you avoid being attacked. She did not want to give Spork Girl a reason to attack.

The air hung around them. The line – and Carla was quite certain time itself – stood still.

Well, I had no idea you were next. Spork Girl offered back with no sentiment other than dripping sarcasm with a flash of contempt.

Things looked bad for Carla. She scan the room trying not to look panicked. She was trapped – by the people and by the metal rails some brilliant designer had put in place to help keep the line in order. The bars were now her prison.

She heard footsteps. The room was that quiet. She looked up to see him striding across the space. The same guy who had looked at her and even smiled was back. So was the smile. It took every fiber of her being not to return what he offered. A smile challenged an animal on the verge of attacking its victim. Spork Girl would strike out at such a challenge, she was certain.

Carla bit down on her lower lip to force down her response. The action did nothing to lessen the butterflies now loose in her stomach. They combined with the feelings of hunger and it almost made Carla sick. Being the new girl, in the middle of all of this, would be tough enough to get past. Throwing up on Spork Girl would not help her pull up out of the pit, although the mess might get her out of the moment.

There you are. He said to Carla.

She looked to be sure he was talking to her.

Mr. Garner sent me to find you. He stepped up to the line and leaned on the bars, putting himself between Carla and Spork Girl. He wanted to know why you weren’t back yet. He was talking to Carla. She was trying to process the fact that he was talking to her.

While she was working through the information he offered, he turned his attention from her to Spork Girl and the entourage around her. Hey, Tabby.

It seemed Spork Girl had a name.

He nodded at them all, and Carla was certain she heard them swoon. I missed you there for a moment. Could you help me out and let the new girl go on? I hate to go on an errand for Mr. Garner and then return empty-handed.

Spork Girl, who she now knew as Tabby, changed her attitude and demeanor as soon as he spoke to her. She became a pile of happy and compliant. Carla would never have believed the transformation in Spork Girl if she hadn’t been standing there witnessing it happen.

Sure, Jake. The spork had been retracted to her side and she stepped out of the way for Carla to move past her. The other girls in the group followed.

Carla took their actions as her cue to get moving. She hurried through the line before the atmosphere or the characters could change again. Jake – he appeared to have a name as well - stayed with Spork Girl turned giddy, but turned and nodded at Carla as she paid for her lunch. Be sure you go straight to Mr. Garner. I don’t know what he needs, but it must be important for him to send me around the school trying to find you.

She nodded her response, in part because she didn’t want to draw attention to herself by making noise, but mostly because she was still trying to process what had occurred. She beat a hasty retreat from the cafeteria and the situation although she was proud she hadn’t broken out into an actual run. Carla took a chance and glanced back at the group. He was there still, caught in a conversation with the gaggle of girls. His attention for her was now gone.

Carla scrapped the idea of eating outside. She wanted to be in a protective zone. Ms. Stewart had pointed out a break room for the office workers during her orientation. It seemed like the most protective zone in the school at the moment.

Now she had to figure out what Mr. Garner needed. Also important, if not more important, she had to figure out who this Mr. Garner might be. She asked Ms. Stewart about him, but he had not been to the office. Carla thought the whole Mr. Garner thing might have been a diversion, but she couldn’t figure out why.

Ms. Stewart said it was fine for her to eat in the break room but asked, Don’t you want to eat in the cafeteria with the rest of the kids?

I need to get caught up on some notes. It was a partial truth, which Carla had learned to master over the years. She was a couple of weeks behind the rest of the school, but not so much she wouldn’t be capable of catching up. It was what Ms. Stewart needed to hear to keep Carla out of the cafeteria and away from the attention of Spork Girl.

Chapter Three

The Gang’s All Here

There was nothing quite like a near-death experience to make all of your senses stand on end. Although her encounter with Spork Girl might not qualify to some as near-death, it did for Carla. She felt nervous and exposed when walking through the halls after that encounter and it forced her to take to what she referred to as mouse tactics. Carla pushed up against the walls or lockers when forced into open areas, but tried her best to stay hidden in the shadows.

She made a new plan because if you’re going to avoid being trapped in the lunch line at school then you need a plan. She considered telling her dad what had happened but anything had the ability to set her dad off. The last thing she wanted was for him to use the lunchtime incident with Spork Girl to pack up and ship out for another new opportunity.

No. It would be best to leave him out of it and for her to figure out something on her own. The plan she devised involved skipping a few lunches so she could save that money and use it to buy something to bring for lunch. Then, once she started getting paid for working in the office, it would be easier to do what she wanted.

Until then, spam and crackers would be lunch.

Her plan to stay in the recesses of the crowd could have worked, had it not been for the local obsession with football. On Friday nights the whole town converged at the small football field to watch the game. It made it complicated for Carla to complete her plan of avoiding people because her dad wanted her involved.

Her dad felt she needed people to get rooted in the community. He wanted her to be a part of it. In this town that meant being part of the Friday night ritual.

Carla had attended schools with team spirit before, but here it all seemed amped to a new level. The good news for her was that because of the level of enthusiasm, the local diner was almost always empty on Friday night. Carla whispered a silent Thank you the diner remained open during the game.

As long as she went out, her dad didn’t question where she went. It left her to find a quiet corner, which she preferred over the loud crowds. The first Friday night she had discovered the corner diner. That’s when she found out it remained open during the game to be ready for the after-game gatherings. But it was open and that was a blessing for her. It offered her sanctuary for a few moments on Friday night.

It all worked out just fine for Carla. She settled into a pattern of avoidance until homecoming happened. The intensity of the homecoming festivities multiplied the normal Friday night exponentially – which she never would have imagined possible.

The halls of the school were covered in posters cheering on the players. The students, and many of the teachers, dressed in school colors or costumes to represent the school mascot. The whole town caught the fever with displays and artwork transforming storefronts into an extension of the school halls.

Unfortunately for Carla, her dad was not immune to the feverish display. Maybe we should meet up and go to the parade together. And do you need a ride to the bonfire? He hadn’t asked if she was going which meant she was going whether or not she wanted to go. She had seen that look on her dad’s face before, so she didn’t try to negotiate.

She found her dad in the crowd at the parade. Carla enjoyed the performers, but the long line of cars with well-dressed people waving at the crowds was not her favorite part. It wasn’t her first parade, but it never ceased to amaze her at the amount of time, money, and energy that went into something that would only last a few minutes.

Carla had hoped her dad would have had enough of the crowds, but when they walked in from the parade, he again brought up the bonfire. Did you need a ride?

No, she didn’t need a ride. She didn’t want to go. Going to a bonfire amid a bunch of people she had been invested in avoiding only made her feel like she was setting herself up for a stake moment.

He stood at the door, determined to get her to the bonfire. No, I’m good. At least if she walked she could put it off a while. She went up to change to warmer clothes and more layers. She had discovered the hard way that the weather around her new home was subject to change in the blink of an eye and had no regard for the calendar.

Her dad watched her walk up the