Cody Bear: The Snack Cake Chronicles, #1

By Jill Penrod

Rescuing Tacy comes at a price…

 

Her history is a secret. She doesn't know phones, videogames, even snack cakes. She's underweight, afraid of everything, and now his next-door neighbor's foster daughter. As a computer geek who never talks to girls, sophomore Cody Highland didn't expect to be asked to play guardian to a teenage girl on her first day of school, but the neighbors ask anyway, putting their most precious possession in his hands.

 

He says yes, and so it begins. Life with Tacy is exciting, dangerous, emotional, and gives his life meaning. Suddenly the computer geek is singing in the choir and auditioning for school plays. Through it all he becomes her protector, her teacher, and her friend.

 

But when her past comes knocking, being Tacy's protector will become the hardest thing Cody has ever attempted, because of all the changes she's made in his life, this one will come the closest to taking him down. Tacy herself may have to save him, assuming she can find the strength to do it.

 

Cody Bear is part of The Snack Cake Chronicles, Christian young adult novels. Read them in any order, tales about growing up, growing in faith, and learning to love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jill Penrod
• Release date: Sep 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215804445

Jill Penrod

Jill Penrod wrote her first novel in high school. It was a space opera (she watched Star Wars A LOT), and it was not great literature. But she persevered, graduating college with top honors in writing. Since then, she’s published more than thirty novels. She writes in several  genres including Christian teen romance, sweet romance, Christian fantasy stories, and non-fiction. None of them are space operas. Jill lives in Kentucky with her husband and youngest son. She has three adult children out there doing adult things like work and marriage. When she isn’t writing, she gardens and spoils her long-haired Chihuahua Sparrow, along with a few other cats and dogs. Recently she fulfilled her dream of moving to the country, although it has yet to be seen if this city mouse can become a country mouse or not.  

Book preview

-1-

Cody

TACY HAPPENED DURING THE SUMMER after freshman year. I was fifteen. She was fourteen. I lived in a small town in the heart of the Midwest, a nondescript person in a nondescript town in a nondescript state, minding my business with no deeper thoughts than what video game I wanted to mod this week and how I might convince my parents to upgrade my computer.

My street was called Modern Lane. Really. There was nothing modern about it. The houses were little ranches made during the time when a gazillion little ranches were built in little neighborhoods all over the country. My dad worked in a bank, and my mom worked part-time selling cosmetics at the mall. She always looked pretty. Dad always looked sharp. I never looked sharp, and they liked to point that out to me.

However, they were nice about it. My parents were good. The town, the school, pretty much my whole life was good. Slow, maybe boring, but I liked it, and I walked into the summer after freshman year thinking life would always be good and slow and easy.

Tacy happened, though. God laughed a lot when he sent her my way, I’m sure. But I’ve never been more thankful for anything from God in my whole life.

Mr. and Mrs. Houlihan lived next door, an older couple who sometimes fostered kids. Usually little kids who toddled around and played on the plastic climbing toy in the back yard. They had no plans to adopt, so they kept kids for a few days or weeks, and then the kid would disappear, soon to be replaced by another. This had happened many times in my memory, and I figured it would keep happening until the Houlihans got too old to watch little kids. Like the rest of my life, it was normal and I didn’t expect change.

The first sign of the change that summer occurred when the Houlihans showed up at my door and asked to have a conference with my parents and me.

Conference. Honest, that was the word they used. I had no idea what kind of conference might include me, my parents, and the neighbors.

Anyway, we conferred. We sat at the dining room table, me next to my mom, and everyone simply waited for one of the Houlihans to say something.

Mr. Houlihan finally cleared his throat. He was a normal kind of guy. Both he and his wife were a little plump, a little short, and chronically friendly. I’d never heard an unkind word from either of them. They loved every kid who came their way. They passed out huge candy bars on Halloween. Both took turns in the nursery at church. Just about perfect people.

However, right now they looked nervous. Maybe closer to terrified, like they brought us news of a world plague or the arrival of a deadly comet. I honestly didn’t have one idea what might come out of their mouths right now.

We’re about to take another foster child, Mr. Houlihan said. Okay, if I’d thought about it, I could have predicted that one. But the looks on their faces said this child was a serial killer, and I doubted that. Um, she might be difficult.

My mom blinked, which she did when she didn’t know what to say. My dad tilted his head.

How can we help? Dad asked. Good old Dad. He worked in a bank and wore ties all the time, but he was a good guy.

Well, Mrs. Houlihan said, and she looked right at me. Then she raised her eyebrows and gave me this funny half smile. Maybe this was the part where she explained their foster child was a werewolf or in witness protection hiding from assassins. Ah, Cody, she’s older. She’ll start at the high school in the fall. At least, we hope she will. They tested her, and she’s smart as a tack, but she doesn’t communicate well. Anyway, I wondered if, I mean... She wrung her hands and looked at her husband. I smiled at her butchering of the sharp as a tack metaphor, because when things got strange I thought about grammar and logic and not feelings. Then I waited. Eventually they’d tell us why this was going to impact us.

Her name is Tacy, Mr. Houlihan said. She’s fourteen. She’s been, ah, isolated. She doesn’t know much about pop culture or modern life or, ah, anything, I guess. She was abused. I can’t tell you much about that. But she might need someone on her side when school starts. We don’t know anyone else your age, Cody, and we thought you might look out for her on the first couple days. Maybe show her around.  I hope you can meet her this summer, but I don’t know.

She doesn’t really talk, Mrs. Houlihan said. I don’t know what we’re going to do with her. We take little ones. But...

She looked at her husband again, and he put his hand on hers. Her shoulders relaxed when he did.

God wants us to have her, Mr. Houlihan said. I don’t know how I know that, and I don’t think we’re right for the job, but we both knew it the minute we got the call. The fact that we got the call at all—nobody should have called us for this girl because we only take babies. So, anyway. I just wanted all of you to know.

Mom looked at Dad. Dad looked at me. I shrugged.

Sure, I said. I can show her around. It’s fine.

And it was. I didn’t mind showing someone around. I didn’t mind asking her to eat lunch with me or introducing her to my friends. I had pretty nice friends. I doubted a girl would want to be with us, but I didn’t mind trying.

The thing to know is that I wasn’t popular or handsome or athletic or anything. My friends were the geeks. And really, if you’re thinking a stereotypical gaggle of geeks, with acne and glasses and some of us too big and some of us too little—you’re dead on. We were those guys. But in our little town, we’d always been around, and for some reason the jocks and the dudes and all the other groups didn’t pester us. We just weren’t worth the trouble.

Mr. and Mrs. Houlihan smiled at me like I’d promised Tacy a kidney. I wondered if she was ugly. Like maybe she had buck teeth and a lumpy nose and eyes that didn’t track together. I wondered suddenly what I’d said yes to. I’d imagined a normal girl, but they looked way happier than necessary for that.

Thank you, Mrs. Houlihan said. She shot from her chair, and I braced, because she was a hugger. I’d known her my whole life, so I was ready, and I noticed my mom grin at me when I cringed in her ample arms. She smelled like flowers. Oh, Cody, thank you. God bless you. I knew you’d come through. You’ve always been the sweetest boy.

I sighed, because this was true. Not that any guy wanted the moniker, but I was possibly the sweetest boy.

Soon they left, promising to have us over to meet Tacy at a cookout when they felt settled, and my parents stood in the doorway and stared at me.

You mean it? Dad asked. You’ll look out for her?

Yeah, I said. I mean, why? Is there something all of you know that I don’t? Why is this so unbelievable? Do you think she looks like a werewolf?

Mom laughed. I doubt it.

Maybe she talks all the time, I said. Then I shook my head. No, she doesn’t talk at all, right? I mean, how much trouble can one silent freshman girl be?

Oh, the irony of the question. But of course I didn’t know that at the time. One silent girl could turn the entire world on its head. It just happened I had no idea my world had been careening along, way out of balance, for a very long time and needed to be turned on its head.

Anyway, my parents assured me this wouldn’t be a problem, and they said they were proud of me, and I went back to the computer. Two weeks would pass before anything happened on the Tacy front again. And then it hit like a tornado.

SO, FINALLY WE GOT THE INVITATION to the cookout. My mom asked me to comb my hair. She offered to get it cut, and she told me to shave, and she dressed up like we were meeting a queen and not a foster kid. I didn’t cut my hair or shave. I did wear a decent t-shirt with my jersey shorts, and I wore my better sneakers. I was not a heartthrob. I would never be a heartthrob, and I was cool with that.

We went next door, all three of us together, and we fidgeted at the front door, all of us strangely nervous. The Houlihans had us over a few times a year. We’d eaten with screaming infants and roaming toddlers. Once two-year-old twins had argued in some kind of twin nonsense for a whole meal. I suspected a girl of fourteen would be better behaved than any of their former fosters.

You’re here, Mrs. Houlihan said when she flung wide the door. She smiled, but I could tell the smile wasn’t quite normal. She looked strained. Maybe this girl really was worse than all the others. I took a deep breath before stumbling into the foyer. And the reason I stumbled was that my dad gave me a little shove, something completely unlike him. All of us seemed to expect monsters in here, and it looked like my dad planned to feed me to them first.

Tacy, Mr. Houlihan called. Charles. The Highlands are here.

Mom closed the door behind us, and Mr. Houlihan appeared with a girl at his side. She was holding his hand. And I froze in place, because in all my imaginings, Tacy was not the girl I’d expected.

First, she could have been an anime character. Really, if she’d had purple hair and her eyebrows had taken flight above her head, she’d have fooled me. She had giant eyes, wide with terror. Her hair was dark and cut just below her ears, and with her free hand she pushed it behind her ears, even though it was too short to stay. It made me think she was used to longer hair.

She was skinny. Not lean or slender. No, she was skinny. She wore shorts and a tank top, and her shoulders and knees and elbows were points on her body, like she was a skeleton pretending to be a real girl. She didn’t look fourteen. She barely looked nine.

And at that moment, I understood a few things about Tacy Smith, child abuse, and life in general. This girl should have been taller. She should have been fatter. Her eyes shouldn’t have filled with terror when she looked at us. Nothing about this girl was right, and I was angry.

Really, that was what went through my mind. Anger. Fury. Something had gone terribly wrong, and I thought life was good and simple. I felt small and ridiculous and wanted to stick this girl in my backpack and protect her.

Which was good, because God pretty much planned to ask me to stick this girl in my backpack and protect her. But that was later. At this point I felt guilty for showing up, because the girl was shaking. Like really shaking, trembling, scared to death.

Ah, hi, I said. Yes, I just bowled girls over with my charm. I’m Cody. We’re going to go to school together in the fall. It’s a good school. The Calicorn Cardinals. Our mascot is the Cardinals. Ah, Go Birds.

I shook my head. I had no idea where that had come from. I sounded demented.

Anyway, it’s too early to worry about that, I said. It’s good to meet you. If you need anything at school, or like here before school, I’m just next door. I mean, you can come and ask and.... I let the thought go. What was I talking about? And yet I meant it.

Tacy, can you say hi? Mr. Houlihan asked. It could have sounded like a pushy adult question meant to point out how a child had forgotten correct etiquette. But it wasn’t like that. It was said with the tenderest, quietest voice I’d ever heard from Mr. Houlihan. And this guy fostered little kids, so he was really good at tender and quiet.

She took a step closer to Mr. Houlihan, leaning on his leg. Her head just passed his waist. Maybe she’d had small parents, but the anger sizzling in my gut said no, someone had kept good things from this girl, and this wasn’t what she was supposed to be at all.

Well, why don’t we eat? Mrs. Houlihan said, sounding a little disappointed, although she smiled warmly at Tacy. You all know the way to the back yard. Wendy, do you want to help me?

That was code meaning Mom and Mrs. Houlihan would take a few minutes alone in the kitchen. I got the feeling Mrs. Houlihan really needed to talk. That was cool with me. I could see that having Tacy wasn’t normal, that this wasn’t like the rest of the Houlihan fosters where they passed the babies around and kissed their heads and hitched them up on their hips. This one took a little more finesse.

I followed the men and Tacy into the back yard. The yards on Modern Lane were average sized, I guess. This one had a patio, a small vegetable garden that Mrs. Houlihan usually abandoned once the temperatures hit the eighties, and a few trees in the back. The yard backed up to a tall wooden fence that separated our houses from the street behind us, so it was usually pretty quiet in our yards. A chain-link fence separated our yard from the Houlihan’s yard, and a lot of weeds grew in the fence making it hard for us to see each other when we were in our yards.

Why don’t you show Cody the back? Mr. Houlihan said, holding out his hand and giving it a shake as though trying to dislodge Tacy. He looked at me. Tacy likes it out here. The trees especially.

I looked at Tacy and hoped she didn’t die of fright here on the patio. It seemed unkind to dislodge her and send her anywhere with me, because I towered over her and she looked at me like she thought I would serve her for dinner with potatoes and gravy.

I’d like to see them, I said gently. I suspected Mr. Houlihan needed to talk to my dad as much as Mrs. Houlihan needed my mom. And I was okay with that. I had been afraid of meeting Tacy, not sure what to expect. Now I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to understand all her secrets. Mostly I wanted to see her smile. Maybe, like an anime character, her eyebrows really would float over her head.

She nodded and slowly released Mr. Houlihan’s hand. Then she looked at me, and then the yard, and then me again.

I’ll follow, I said. You just take me where you want us to go.

She nodded again, her eyes still wide and fearful, and she took a step into the yard and then looked back at me like I might chase her down. Then, in the strangest move, she reached out her hand. Her little, tiny, nine-year-old hand. I reached out my own, letting her grab on, because the truth was I was afraid I’d crush her if I gripped her.

Okay, she said in a little voice, taking a long, slow breath. This way.

I caught the men’s eyes as she led me away, and both of them looked stunned. I wondered if this was inappropriate in some way. Was I not allowed to touch this foster child? I’d held some of them, so I didn’t think that was a rule, but maybe it was different when she was almost my age.

She led us to the four trees at the very back of the property, right up against the fence. It was close to the edge, and my yard was pretty visible here.

I live right there, I said, pointing. She nodded again. Ah, these are the trees, then?

They’re tall, she said, dropping my hand and staring straight up. I did as well.

They are, I said. I wondered what to say now. I wanted her to relax, but she was still shaking. In fact, when she dropped my hand she shook harder. I held my hand out again, and she put her hand in it and sighed, although she continued shaking.

I’m okay, I said. I mean, I won’t hurt you or anything. I don’t want you scared of me. They call me sweet. I rolled my eyes. Guys don’t like to be called sweet, but it might be true. I’m harmless.

She nodded yet again. Conversations with this girl were not easy.

So, I said. I tugged her down a little, very gently, and we sat at the base of the biggest tree. She still held my hand. What is your favorite school subject?

She looked at me like I was speaking Mandarin. Her giant eyes blinked, and then they filled with tears.

It’s okay, I said. If you don’t like school it’s okay. Or if you get the best grades, that’s okay, too. School here isn’t bad. Kids are pretty okay.

Again with the charm. Could I use the word okay any more than I’d just done? I’d never realized how lame my conversational skills were.

School, she whispered. I don’t know.

That’s okay. I rolled my eyes. Do you have any questions? About school or... I don’t know. About anything? I bet living with the Houlihans isn’t bad, right? They’re nice people.

She nodded again and tightened her hold on my hand.

Anna and Charles, she said, her voice low and quiet. She had an accent, I thought. Something about her speech was different, but I didn’t mind it. I wished she would talk louder, though. We eat pancakes.

I grinned. I love pancakes. Do you like pancakes?

And this was it. Really, this moment changed my whole life, although I didn’t know it yet. I did know I’d been kicked in the gut by something I couldn’t explain.

Because when I said it, you see, Tacy Smith smiled.

I do, she whispered. I love pancakes.

She said it just like I had, and I smiled back at her. She smiled a little wider at that, and she relaxed her hold on my hand. I thought it strange that she held onto me when she was afraid of me, but when she felt I wasn’t dangerous she let go.

What do you like about the trees? I asked when the silence stretched again. She looked up and tilted her head like she was thinking hard about the question.

They’re tall, she said. So much higher.

Higher than what? I wondered, but I didn’t say it.

I always wanted to see the Redwoods in California, I said. Have you heard of them?

She shook her head, and I pulled out my phone. She leaned back like I’d pulled a knife.

I can show you, I said. They’re really big trees.

She nodded and watched me scroll and swipe to bring up an image of trees. In the photo I found, several people stood holding hands to encircle a tree.

Tilting her head again, she looked at the image and then up at the tree, and she stood and reached her arms out, resting her front against the tree. She wasn’t big enough to reach around, but I assumed the two of us could.

You want me to finish the circle? I asked. Like the picture?

She nodded, and I moved to the other side. There wasn’t much space between the trunk and the fence, but I shoved my hand through. When I touched her hand, I felt her jump. She pulled away and took a few steps back. I didn’t move. Then she took another deep breath and got close again. In a minute her hands touched mine on both sides.

I wasn’t sure what to do next, so I didn’t move, and she let go and giggled. The giggle was even more adorable than the smile. I got the feeling the Houlihans had struggled to find smiles and giggles, and that surprised me. This girl was strange, and she was clearly afraid of people, but it hadn’t been that hard to make her smile. Maybe she knew I was young like she was, and that made me easier.

Whatever it was, the spell broke when Mrs. Houlihan called for us to eat. I put my phone away, and we headed back to the patio. This time she didn’t touch me, and I sure didn’t touch her, but she stayed beside me, like she didn’t want to take even one step ahead of me.

Did you two have a good time out there? Mrs. Houlihan asked hopefully when we arrived. All four of the adults stared at us like we were aliens. I wanted to smack my parents and tell them to cut it out. I assumed they’d shared a few stories, and now they knew all about whatever had made this girl small and scared. I didn’t want them all to know. I was the one who’d made her smile, but I was a kid, so it all had to be a secret from me.

California, Tacy said in her quiet voice. Our trees are smaller than theirs.

Mr. Houlihan laughed. That’s true.

Tacy said almost nothing the rest of the meal. The Houlihans tried. They asked questions, but if Tacy didn’t answer they simply smiled and moved on. I realized they were good foster parents. I hadn’t seen it so much with the babies, but even though Tacy was scared, it seemed to me they tried hard to make it easy for her.

So, Mr. Houlihan said when the food was gone and we were taking our dishes inside. We should do this again. Tacy? Do you think we should invite Cody and his parents over again?

She glanced at the back of the yard, back to the trees. Yes.

I grinned at her. Thanks. I’d like that.

I’d like that, she said in my voice. I laughed at her and went home with my family.

MOM MADE THE NEXT MOVE, and that surprised me. First, I’d been grilled when we’d gotten home after our first visit with Tacy and the Houlihans. They wanted me to tell them every word the poor girl had said. However, when I asked them what the Houlihans had told them about Tacy, I got silence, so that’s what they got from me. What happened between Tacy and me stayed between Tacy and me.

And I thought that would end it. I’d proven I could interact with this girl, and now I likely wouldn’t see her until the first day of school when I’d protect her from the monsters, although we didn’t have many monsters at school. But the Houlihans didn’t seem to realize this. I mean, it’s not like I went outside and would interact with Tacy at the tree line. I liked computers and programming and online forums.

Mom didn’t seem to understand this, and a few days later she told me to go outside and play. I simply blinked. She laughed at me.

Mom, I don’t go outside and play. I’m fifteen. I have no siblings. What do you think I’d do out there?

She sighed. I remember when you were little and the neighbor kids would play over here. What happened to the world? Where did the children go?

I had no answers for her, and she pointed out the window.

Tacy is out there in the trees. Why don’t you go say hello? She looked comfortable with you.

I didn’t think she’d looked all that comfortable, but I struggled to disobey Mom, so I slid my feet into old sneakers and walked to the yard. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I mean, how much could either of us say about trees?

When I got close, Tacy jumped. She’d been on the ground, her back against a tree, a book in her hand, and she jumped straight to her feet, dropping the book. Her eyes were wild and huge, and she was shaking again.

Whoa, I said, holding out my hands. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to startle you.

Startle, she said quietly, tilting her head. I was startled.

Yeah, I said. I pointed to the book. That seemed like a safe topic. Is it a good book?

She picked it up and looked at it like she’d never seen it before. It was a book for littler kids than her, I thought, not very thick. They’d told me she was smart, but I wondered if that was true.

Tacy, she said with a grin. She was grinning and shaking at the same time. It’s me.

She held out the book, and as she’d said, the title contained her name. Tacy wasn’t a name I’d heard before, so I bet she liked finding a book with her name.

I’m Tacy, she said, and again I wondered if this girl was all here. I mean... She tilted her head again. I had to choose. My name. Tacy is good. I liked Tacy.

I blinked, just like my mom always did.

You chose your name? Don’t you have a name?

It wasn’t the best question, and I’m sure I asked it like I thought she was crazy, because I was thinking she was crazy.

No, she said quietly, whispering and looking around. Look, though, it’s Tacy.

She held out the book, and I took it. I skimmed a few pages because it seemed she expected me to read it right here and now. It seemed to be a storybook about a few girls who were friends. It was easy to read, and it was positive and happy. If a girl had a hard past, and she didn’t want her name, maybe this book was exactly what she needed.

I think it looks like Tacy is just the right name, I said. That got a full smile from her, and that smile kicked me in the gut the same as it had the other day.

I returned the book, and she stared at me, her eyes wide again. She didn’t know what to do about me in her space, I realized. She’d been happily reading about friends, and I’d disrupted her.

I should go, I said. I just wanted to say hi.

She nodded. I turned to leave, and she moved closer to the fence.

Cody, she whispered. I turned back and walked close enough to hear her. I have a question. It’s okay? A question?

I grinned. I’d told her to ask, but I hadn’t expected her to do it. Yeah. Anything.

She looked around, and then she looked at the book. Finally she looked at the tree.

Can we go up? Higher?

Into the tree, I said. You want to climb the tree?

She nodded, her eyes enormous. I wanted to give this girl candy bars and fatten her up. She didn’t look healthy. Could she climb a tree? If a breeze hit up there, she’d blow away.

Ah, this one is better, I said, pointing to a tree in my yard. It was one of the oldest trees in the area, with low, thick, gnarled branches. She couldn’t go far, but she could climb off the ground. It’s a safe tree. I used to climb it. Then I got bigger.

She looked me over, and that made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t a skinny guy. Remember that videogame geek stereotype? Yeah, I was one of the heavier ones. Not fat, but not lean or athletic. Thick, my mom said when she wanted to be kind but also point out that maybe I should lay off the Oreos if I planned to spend my life in a chair at a computer.

But it’s over there, she said, pointing to the tree.

You can come over here, I said. I mean, can’t you?

I don’t know, she whispered again, looking all around. What if they find me?

Okay, so I was a fifteen-year-old computer geek, not the kind of person known for great insight into the human condition, but even I realized Tacy had just placed a landmine at my feet. I had to decide if I should defuse it or sidestep.

I must say the first brave thing I ever did was take on that landmine. It sure wouldn’t be the last moment with Tacy demanding bravery.

Tacy, I whispered, leaning over the fence to get closer to her. I think you’re safe here. Even on this side of the fence. Ah... You think someone is looking for you?

She nodded vigorously, her wide eyes going wider, a state I didn’t