When She Was Bad Page 4

  The news anchor went on to say not to keep the bagged lettuce and greens past the use-by date. “In recent years, the amount of salmonella outbreaks in the U.S. has increased, resulting in more than twenty-five thousand hospitalized and five hundred deaths every year. And it isn’t just greens. Cucumbers, ground beef, poultry, eggs, pistachios, and sprouts have also been linked to outbreaks.”

  They went to a commercial break, and when they returned the woman finished up by saying, “To be safe, always follow the package directions and use by the date on the bag. Eat the greens the same day as purchasing, and avoid any bags that look wet or have mushy leaves. We’ve had a salmonella outbreak recently here in Wichita from eggs. Symptoms to look out for include: stomach cramps, diarrhea, and fever.”

  I turned off the television and went back outside. In the light from the setting sun, the greens on my plate looked like an alien life form. Feeling sick, I threw the rest of the salad into the trash along with the opened bag and the two unopened bags.

  Now I’d have to add another stop to my errand list: go to the farmers’ market in the next town over and buy my greens there. If I was still here in the fall, I’d be sure to plant greens. If things kept going this way, what on earth would I eat—beans and rice?

  CHAPTER 8

  TIRED FROM STANDING ALL DAY, I clocked out after my shift and went home to Midnight. As I ate the sub I’d picked up on the way home, North Carolina seemed a lifetime away. The thought of a Bojangles’ sweet tea served by a woman with a soft Southern drawl who called me sugar made me want to get in the car and drive. Not to mention the smell of the salt air, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore lulling me to sleep at night. I’d never given a thought to being landlocked until I was here with no beach nearby. Even the moist air that stole my breath when I stepped outside during the summer—I missed it all. And I missed the friendship I’d built with Grayson, even if it was built upon a lie. I was lonely.

  I woke, my t-shirt plastered to my back, the sound of gunshots still ringing in my ears. The comforter was in a heap on the floor, the sheets tangled around my legs. Instead of trying to go back to sleep, I padded to the kitchen and made a cup of tea. Outside, the breeze blew across my damp shirt, making me shiver. The dark shapes on the ground reminded me of bodies, but it was only the cows.

  Midnight pushed through the hole in the screen and jumped up on my lap, turning around a few times before he curled up, purring softly. The air was already warm—it was supposed to be 104 today, so thank goodness I could wear shorts and a t-shirt to work. The heat was so different here, dry, not like the sticky humidity in North Carolina. I used to think I could reach out and grab a handful of air. Sultry was the word people used to describe the heat in the South. There were days I’d walk out to my car, the heat slamming into me, stealing my breath, ripping it away and making me feel like I needed another shower before I got to work. Since I’d been here, I’d gone through two bottles of lotion. My skin was parched and dry all the time.

  Would the nightmares ever go away? I saw their faces but didn’t understand why, because I didn’t regret what I’d done. Only wished I knew what the cost for my actions would be.

  Dawn broke across the sky as I stroked Midnight. Maybe it was being here in Kansas. The memories of my grandparents were strong, but I’d craved anything familiar as I ran away from North Carolina. At the time, I never thought giving up my identity would have such an impact, and even though I kept my first name, I didn’t feel like me.

  In the deep of the night when I woke and couldn’t sleep, I heard the cries. Beseeching me to help, to mete out justice and punish those who had gotten away with their crimes. The ever-present darkness scratched at the door in my head and whispered through the keyhole. I didn’t know how much longer I could resist the call.

  Later that morning as I was getting ready for work, I heard a reporter talking about people getting sick. But this wasn’t the salmonella thing—there was also an outbreak of E. coli, from hamburger, the guy on the news said. They said thirty-seven people were sick and seven had been hospitalized. A list of the affected brands appeared on the screen, along with the grocery stores where the tainted meat was sold, and the Grab-and-Go was one of them. The reporter could hardly keep the glee from his voice, the juicy story no doubt pushing up their ratings.

  “We want to warn our viewers not to cook any of these recalled products, and whatever you do, don’t eat them. Throw the tainted packages away or return them to wherever you bought them. The stores will replace what you purchased. If you do throw the meat away, make sure you put it in a sealed bag in the trash. We wouldn’t want children, or pets, or other animals to eat the tainted meat.”

  The man looked off to the side as if he’d received more bad news, and I frowned at the sparkle in his eye.

  “This is breaking news: two people admitted to the hospital yesterday have developed hemolytic uremic syndrome, otherwise called HUS. That’s a type of kidney failure.”

  The man put his TV face back on.

  “The salmonella outbreak is spreading to surrounding states. Salmonella was found in eggs, two breakfast cereals, and three types of corn chips. Reports have been coming in: at least one hundred people are sick, and four have been hospitalized. The factory where the products are made used private inspectors. Tune in at six tonight to find out—is this illness a sign that we need stricter controls? We’ll keep our viewers posted as we receive further developments.”

  The days melded into one another, and sometimes I had to look at my phone to see if it was a weekday or weekend, not that it really mattered anymore. But this was the first time since I started my job that I had two days off, and I was looking forward to doing nothing. A load of laundry buzzed in the dryer at the same time as my phone rang. It was work.

  “This is Hope.”

  It was my manager. “We’ve got three people out sick with some kind of bug, maybe the food poisoning that’s going around. I hate to ask, I know it’s your day off and you usually work days, but is there any chance you could work the night shift for the next couple of days? Just until they get better. We’re really shorthanded.”

  I sighed, but what could I tell her, no? The other people that worked days with me had kids, and there was no way they’d be able to take the shifts.

  “Sure. What time do I need to be there?”

  She let out a breath. “I won’t forget this, Hope. As soon as everybody’s back and healthy, I’ll give you a couple extra days off. If you could be here at nine thirty tonight, that would be great.”

  So much for time off. Instead of going outside to paint the meadow, I took a nap. When I arrived at work that evening, I went to the employee break room to put my bag in my locker and get my smock. When I clocked in, I smiled at my time card. I was always early, and the extra minutes added up. The smell hit my nose: bleach. For a minute I was back in North Carolina, standing beside a dumpster, pouring bleach on my clothes. Dizzy, I had to sit down and breathe deeply. You’re in Kansas. You’re safe. Maybe a customer was sick. It didn’t mean anything was wrong, but as I left the room, a sticker on one of the lockers caught my eye. A resort in Florida with an alligator smiling. An omen, but what did it mean?

  When I passed the meat counter, I waved to the guys talking. The area was open to the public so people could see what they were getting, like an old-fashioned butcher shop. What a joke. I wanted to tell them if they really wanted to know where their food came from to watch the trucks that brought the boxes to the loading dock, or better yet, send people to the feedlot or slaughterhouse. But that was a whole different story, and no one cared.

  Damn, I’d forgotten my lip balm. When I rushed down the hallway, something about the voices made me pause. I peeked through the swinging doors, my eyes watering. I saw the two guys that always worked the night shift. They were taking packages of meat and chicken from the big refrigerators, tearing off the plastic and throwing it away.

  One guy tossed the meat into a big
pot of water. It had to be the source of the bleach smell. And as I watched, the other guy scooped out the meat, dried it off, then doused it in something red before he repackaged it. From where I stood I was too far away to make out the names on the label. Everything went red, and the ever-present blackness whispered in my ear, caressing my cheek, telling me something was not right.

  But I ignored the voice, shaking my head. The packaging must not have been done correctly, sometimes the label machine didn’t work very well. That made sense. Because the other alternative was disturbing. Disturbing enough that it rattled the chains on the door inside my head.

  CHAPTER 9

  “HI, HOPE, WHAT ARE YOU doing?”

  It was the little girl from the house across the fields.

  “Is it okay if I call you Hope? Everyone in town knows who you are, but I don’t remember your last name.”

  “It’s Hope Rache, but you can call me Hope. What’s your name?”

  “Madeline, but it’s too long and everyone calls me Maddy, except when I’m in trouble, then it’s Madeline Amelia Spencer.”

  “Well, I like them both, Maddy.”

  She squatted down beside me, her nose inches from the painting I was working on. True to her word, my manager made sure I had four days off, but when I go back it’s to the night shift. The salmonella and E. coli outbreaks have hit hard and we’re understaffed.

  “What do you think?” I pointed to the cows. “Too many flowers in the meadow?”

  Maddy wrinkled her nose. “Cows don’t have purple and blue on them.” She skipped over to the fence and leaned over, petting the black-and-white cow. “Look, just browns, black, and white.”

  Everybody’s a critic. “Squint your eyes, see how when the sun hits them you can almost see different colors on their hides. Anyway, don’t you think they look prettier with some color?”

  While she studied the painting, I studied her. From her brown hair in a crooked ponytail to the shorts and t-shirt with a rip and stains, to her sandals that looked like they fit a year ago. When she smiled, it lit up her whole face.

  “I guess so. It’s kind of like me coloring my dog blue.”

  “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

  She let out a sigh. “We don’t. But if I did, I would name him Blue and wish he had blue fur.”

  As she chattered, flitting from one topic to the next, I packed up my supplies to take them inside for lunch. She followed at my heels, talking about school and her friends, and how much she loved summertime. Avid had recently switched to a year-round calendar and Maddy was looking forward to tracking out for several weeks. According to her, the school wasn’t so bad, and they served hot meals but she needed a break. Kids.

  From the gossip in town, I’d heard about her mom, the drugs, alcohol, and revolving door of men. Up until today, I’d tried to keep my distance, but watching Maddy with Midnight, I knew she’ll be over here a lot.

  “He is the best cat ever.” She sniffed the air, looking so much like the cat that I almost laughed. “Is that chicken I smell?”

  Midnight twined around her legs, no doubt hoping she’d give him a treat.

  “You and Midnight have good noses. I thought I’d make chicken potpie. The chicken breasts should be done by now.”

  Maddy was practically drooling on the vinyl floor, and, without thinking of the consequences to come, I broke my rule.

  “I don’t think I can eat this chicken potpie by myself. Want to help me make it and then stay for a slice or two?”

  “Yes, please.” She threw a tinfoil ball for Midnight, who ran around batting it all over the living room while Maddy laughed.

  “Why don’t you help me throw a load of laundry in the washer, and by then the chicken should be cool enough to make the pie.”

  “Okay, but do you think you could show me how to do laundry? My mom’s pretty busy, and then I could help out more around the house.”

  “You’ll be a laundry expert in no time.”

  I pulled the clothes from the hamper and tossed them into the basket. In the hallway, I pulled open the bifold doors to reveal the washer and dryer.

  “So it’s pretty simple: pour the detergent to this line on the cap then pour it in here. Wash one load with dark colors and another with light.”

  “Why?” She peered into the washer like it might be a wishing well.

  “Because sometimes if you put a red shirt in with a white shirt, the shirt might come out pink. Now, if you wanted your shirt to turn pink, that’s fine, but if you didn’t, well then, you might want to separate them.”

  Maddy knelt down and separated the rest of the laundry, tossing the dark stuff into the washer.

  “Thanks for showing me. I can do this at home.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m seven. I’ll be eight this fall.”

  It took me a moment to notice, I was so distracted by the chattering. “Midnight!”

  I pointed to the pan on top of the stove and the missing chicken breast. Maddy’s eyes were huge, her little face pale until she realized she wasn’t in trouble. The kid squatted down and I heard an odd sound. Worried she was crying, I knelt down and saw her covering her mouth, trying not to laugh. The giggles escaped as she flopped over on her back, clutching her stomach.

  “Look, Midnight caught a chicken breast.” She looked to me then back at my mischievous cat. “If I were you, I’d stay under there. Hope looks awfully mad.”

  Maddy clapped a hand over her mouth, fear in her eyes as if I was going to strike her. The thing inside wanted to look into the mother, but I backed away from the door and ran down the corridor in my head.

  “Guess that’s what I get for leaving chicken on the stove. That cat loves chicken. We’ll call it a lesson learned and leave him to his meal.”

  She looked perplexed. “You’re not going to hit him?”

  I made sure I kept my hands loose and didn’t make any sudden moves. “You know, Midnight does a lot of naughty things, but I never hit him. I don’t believe in hitting. All I have to do is fuss at him. He knows he’s been bad—just look at him.”

  She squatted down again, studying the cat.

  “I don’t think he looks like he feels sorry. I think he’s enjoying the chicken too much to care.”

  We both laughed and washed our hands. I was only twenty-four, yet sometimes I felt like I was a hundred and twenty-four. But being with Maddy for the day made me smile and took away some of the ever-present worry.

  The darkness went quiet when there was light around. As we worked together in the kitchen, I caught a reflection of myself in the glass. The unremarkable face, the auburn hair in need of a touch-up, though the color made my eyes look bluer. Maddy touched my arm, interrupting my internal criticism.

  “Is this how you want the vegetables chopped?”

  “Yep, they look great. Let’s mix everything up and put the pie in the oven. It’ll take about an hour.”

  “Can we paint until then?”

  “Sure.” I was happy to have her close. She was full of light and I could just be.

  CHAPTER 10

  “MR. GIER, I HAVE HERMAN Licht here to see you.”

  “Thank you.” He nodded to his secretary and looked at his watch. She’d interrupt him in fifteen minutes and get rid of this guy.

  “Did Lori offer you some coffee?”

  “I’m good. Appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.”

  Augustus showed the man over to the chairs by the floor-to-ceiling windows. He leaned back in the chair. “What can I do for you?”

  “As you know, our foundation spends more than a hundred million a year fighting childhood obesity in this country.” The man handed him a marketing package showing smiling fat kids, and Augustus barely resisted the urge to sneer.

  “Big food spends that in two weeks, all on promoting processed food, so you can see what we’re up against. We can’t compete. I swear, the more fat- and sugar-laden your foods are, the more you and the others in
the industry promote and advertise them.”

  Augustus resisted the urge to throw the man out of his office. The cartel had discussed and agreed: they would listen, look like they wished to help, yet do nothing.

  “I appreciate your passion, young man. I’m afraid my marketing budget is already committed for the year, but come see me next year. Maybe I can help your company then.”

  The man jumped up, pacing back and forth, his voice rising with every step.

  “Don’t you understand? Every day we’re fighting a battle for the health of our children, the next generation. This is the first generation that won’t live as long as their parents. We’re going backwards because of companies like yours.”

  Augustus stared out at the Dallas skyline. It was a spectacular view. “As I’ve said, our funds are committed. However, we’d be happy to sponsor your baseball team for at-risk kids.”

  “And provide junk and soda? No thanks.” The man cleaned off his glasses, calming a bit. “You along with our government make it harder to help people. All the subsidies the government provides for high-fructose corn syrup production. We can’t win. They should be giving subsidies to farmers for growing fruits and vegetables, helping schools plant gardens, offering tax credits to consumers for backyard gardeners, but they don’t care and neither do you. It’s like you want everyone to get fat and sick.”

  The phone on the mahogany desk rang. Augustus answered it and spoke softly.

  “It appears our time is up. Thank you for coming and expressing your opinion. This is America and we’re in business to make a profit. Since you’re refusing our offer of sponsorship, there’s nothing more I can offer, but I’ll add you to our list of causes for next year.” He showed the man to the door.

  “Have you heard about our new campaign? Not only Gier Foods but others as well. We’re working with the current administration to encourage children to exercise more. We’ve also partnered with another nonprofit to provide information to lower-income communities regarding calorie counts and making wise choices. It’s all about balance. So you see, Mr. Licht, we’re not the devil.”