Yes, I Know the Monkey Man Read online

  They could be your family, too, a small voice in my head said. But no, they couldn’t. My family consisted of me, Joe, and Gram. That was it.

  We got back to Suzanne’s house at around nine o’clock. Grandma and Grandpa Sperling went to get ready for bed. I grabbed Sherlock’s leash and called, “Here, boy! Want to go for a walk?”

  Sherlock bounded down the stairs. He definitely wanted to go for a walk.

  “Take Sam with you,” Suzanne called.

  Was she serious? “How about if I just take Sam’s cell phone instead?” I suggested. “That way I can call you if something happens.” I’d been hoping to call Joe while I was out walking. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him all day.

  “You know the rules, T.J.,” Suzanne said.

  I sighed. Why was it such a big freaking deal to go off by yourself around here?

  “I don’t mind going with you,” Sam said as I snapped Sherlock’s leash to his collar.

  No, but maybe I minded. Fine. Whatever. “Let’s go,” I said, heading out the door before Suzanne could tell us how far we could go or how long we could be gone, too.

  “Your mom sure has a lot of rules,” I told Sam as we started down the street. Sherlock sniffed every yard we passed.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think she has any more rules than anyone else’s mom. Doesn’t your dad have rules?”

  “Not really,” I said as we crossed the street. “Joe trusts me.”

  We stopped to let Sherlock do his business. Crickets chirped all around us.

  “So what’s it like living with Joe?” Sam asked. “What’s he like?”

  “He’s … great,” I said. We started walking again

  “You’re pretty close?” Sam said.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. But inside I wondered, were Joe and I close? How could you be close to someone who lied to you and kept secrets from you? “What about you and Suzanne? Are you guys close?”

  Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s a lot she won’t talk to me about. She’s always been that way. Like she would never tell me anything about Joe. She wouldn’t tell me what he was like, what he did for a living, nothing. She wouldn’t talk about you, either. It was like the two of you never existed. Of course, I know the reason she never talked about you. It made her feel too sad.”

  I felt like the ground had just dropped out from under me. Talking about me made Suzanne sad? Was that why Gram and Joe had never mentioned Katie? Did it make them too sad to think about her?

  “And you saw Mom at the airport,” Sam went on. “She was the one who brought up the fact that Joe used to have a sister, but then, bam! she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  “Well, that’s because your grandma and grandpa’s plane got in.”

  “No.” Sam shook her head. “I know my mom. It was more than that. She just didn’t want to talk about Joe’s sister. And I kind of got the impression you didn’t want to talk about her, either. So, what’s the big deal? Why doesn’t anyone want to talk about this Katie person?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” she asked. “You know more than I do. I’d never even heard of her before today.”

  I sighed. “Neither had I,” I admitted.

  Sam stopped walking. “What?”

  “I’d never heard of Katie before today, either.”

  She just looked at me.

  “What? Why are you so surprised? I didn’t even know you or your mom existed until three weeks ago. I didn’t know Grandma and Grandpa Sperling existed. Why are you surprised I never knew Joe used to have a sister?”

  “I’m not,” she said quietly. “I’m surprised that you lied to me.”

  “I didn’t lie to you.” I threw my hands up in the air, which jerked Sherlock’s collar and made him yelp. “I never actually said I knew anything about Joe’s sister. I just said I couldn’t tell you much about her. And the reason was because I don’t know anything. No lie there.”

  Sam’s eyes narrowed. “No, you said you knew about Katie, you just ‘forgot’ about her.”

  Was that what I’d said? “I think you’re remembering wrong.”

  “That’s what you said,” Sam insisted. Her eyes softened. “But I think I know why you said it.”

  “You do?”

  “I think you didn’t want Mom or me to know that there’s more Joe hasn’t told you.”

  Wait a minute. Did we have some sort of bizarre psychic connection?

  “Look. You’re not the only one who’s been lied to, you know,” Sam said. “I may have been the one who found you, but I didn’t know you really existed until the second I saw you.”

  Was I supposed to be grateful to her for finding me? As far as I was concerned, I was never lost.

  I started walking again, faster this time. But not fast enough to lose Sam. “Wait, T.J.,” she called, hurrying after me. “Don’t you understand? You’re not alone. You and me, we’re in this together.”

  I whirled around. “In what together?” As far as I could tell, she didn’t have to worry about Social Services or her dad’s broken back or her grandma in a nursing home.

  Sam didn’t answer at first. “In this … search for the truth,” she said finally. “Don’t you think it’s strange no one ever told either of us about Katie? She would’ve been our aunt, T.J. The only aunt we ever had. Don’t you want to know who she was? Don’t you want to know why she died so young? Don’t you want to know why no one ever told us about her?”

  “Sort of,” I admitted.

  “Good,” Sam said. A slow smile spread across her face. “Because I think I know how we can find answers to all those questions.”

  “How?”

  “How does any other child of divorce get what they want when one parent says no?” she asked.

  I had no idea. I’d never really thought of myself as “a child of divorce” before.

  “They go to the other parent,” Sam said. She reached into her purse, pulled out her cell phone, and handed it to me. “Call Joe, T.J.”

  I wanted to call Joe. But not in front of Sam.

  “You just said you wanted answers, too,” she pointed out.

  I took the phone, but instead of punching in the hospital number, I punched in our home number. I waited until the answering machine kicked on, then held out the phone so she could hear it, too. “He’s not home,” I said.

  I tried to give her back her phone, but Sam wouldn’t take it. “Hang onto it,” she said. “You can keep trying.”

  She didn’t need to offer twice. I was happy to hold on to her phone for a while.

  Chapter Twelve

  Suzanne wanted us to go to bed as soon as we got back to Sam’s house. At 10:30. And when Sam tried to protest, Suzanne put her finger to her lips. “Grandma and Grandpa are already asleep.”

  I looked toward the family room. The lights were out.

  “Tomorrow’s a big day,” Suzanne went on in a low voice as she ushered us up the stairs. “Your grandparents and I have errands to run in the morning—”

  “What kind of errands?” Sam stopped on the third step.

  “Just a few last-minute wedding details. I want you to finish packing up your room. We’ve got the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night, the wedding on Saturday, and then the move on Sunday. You’ve got to get the rest of your things packed, Sam. No more putting it off.”

  “Can T.J. and I go to the mall while you’re running errands?” Sam asked. “Maybe out to lunch, too?”

  Suzanne forgot about the low voice. “Did you hear what I just said about packing, Samantha?” she asked, hands on her hips.

  “Yes. But it’s not going to take all day.”

  I almost choked. Had Sam seen her room lately?

  “T.J. will help.” Sam looked at me. “Won’t you, T.J.?”

  “Uh—”

  But Sam didn’t wait for my response. “If we get everything in my room boxed up, can we go to the mall?” She was be
gging now.

  I would’ve rather cleaned the entire house than go back to that mall.

  “Only if you get everything packed first,” Suzanne said. “And only if you promise you’ll be back by three o’clock. They want us at the church by five.”

  “I know,” Sam said. “We’ll be back by then. Can we have some money?”

  Whoa. I would never ask Joe for money. Not without a reason, anyway.

  “All right. Let’s see what I’ve got in my purse,” Suzanne said.

  Sam grinned at me, then scrambled the rest of the way up the stairs after her mom. I followed a few paces behind them. When we got upstairs, I saw Suzanne’s wedding dress hanging from the top of the door. I’d never seen a real wedding dress before. This one had a scooped neck with a ring of lace and tiny white balls. Some of the lace went all the way to the floor. If Suzanne could afford a dress like that, a dress that she’d only wear once, I shouldn’t have been surprised she had money to give to Sam for no good reason.

  “Don’t feel like you have to spend it all,” Suzanne said as Sam started to walk away with the wad of cash.

  I turned to leave, too, but Suzanne called me back. “Here’s a little something for you, too, T.J.,” she said, holding out her hand.

  I wasn’t actually planning to take her money, but I was curious just how much she was offering. Holy cow! “Fifty bucks!” I blurted out. No one had ever given me fifty bucks for no reason before.

  Suzanne smiled. “In case you see a blouse or something you want.”

  Right. Like I would blow fifty bucks on clothes. I should have said no to Suzanne’s money. I wanted to say no. But if I added it to the money I had left from my one-way bus ticket, I would have enough to buy another one-way ticket home. So I took it.

  “Thanks,” I said. I felt a little bit guilty.

  When I went back to my room, Sherlock was already curled up on my blanket. I got undressed and put on my nightshirt, but I didn’t go right to bed. First I pulled out Sam’s cell phone and dialed the hospital. It was a good thing I’d memorized the number; it was starting to fade on my hand already.

  I waited while the phone rang and rang.

  Nobody picked up. Joe was probably asleep. Darn. I’d have to wait until tomorrow to talk to him.

  The next morning I woke to the sound of muffled voices and people walking around downstairs. It was still pretty dark in my room, but when I checked the clock, I was surprised to discover it was already eight thirty. I peeked under the window shade. A light rain was falling outside.

  Sherlock hopped down off the couch and went to the door, his tail wagging. But I didn’t make any move to go and open the door.

  “We’ll go outside when they leave,” I told him. He let out a little whine.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to talk to him,” I heard Grandma Sperling say in a low voice. Low for Grandma Sperling was still pretty darn loud. “Find out what your options are.”

  “I know what my options are,” Suzanne said. “And I’m happy with the way things are going.”

  What were they talking about? I went to the door and pressed my ear against it

  “You’ll be happy putting her back on a bus in a couple of days? Happy to send her back to him?”

  “She came here with the understanding it would just be for a week—”

  “And you let her go with Joe that day with the understanding it would just be for the afternoon,” Grandma Sperling countered. “That man doesn’t deserve—”

  “This isn’t about Joe,” Suzanne interrupted. “It’s about T.J. and what’s best for her.”

  “And you think sending her back to him is for the best?”

  “It’s what she wants.”

  “She’s a child! She doesn’t get to say what she wants.”

  Excuse me, child? I wanted to go down there and tell Grandma Sperling a thing or two about how it was, but even more I wanted to hear what Suzanne said next.

  “It’s my decision, Mother. And I’m going to handle it my own way. Now, are we running those errands or not?”

  I heard a door open and close. Were they gone? I ran to the window and raised the shade just high enough so I could peek out at the driveway. Suzanne and Grandma and Grandpa Sperling were all getting into Suzanne’s car. I waited for them to drive away, then I pulled on a pair of shorts, grabbed Sam’s cell phone, and took Sherlock out into the backyard.

  My whole body was shaking. It sounded like Suzanne had every intention of letting me go home as planned next week, but what if Grandma Sperling kept working on her? What if Suzanne changed her mind? Joe, you’ve got to get better, I thought. You’ve got to be ready to fight for me if it comes to that.

  I opened Sam’s phone and punched in the number for Joe’s hospital room. The light rain soaked into my nightshirt. Just like last night, the phone rang and rang.

  It was quarter to nine. Joe shouldn’t still be sleeping now. Not even in a hospital. I tried the number again, but there still wasn’t any answer. Had they moved him to another room again? Was the phone simply too far out of his reach? Why hadn’t I thought to copy down the hospital’s main number, too?

  Sherlock was done outside so we went back in the house. I wiped my bare feet on the rug and Sherlock shook himself off.

  I tried the hospital again. Still no answer.

  Why wasn’t Joe answering his phone? He hadn’t gotten worse, had he? Who would tell me if he had? Who else even knew I was here?

  Mrs. Morris did. She would call and tell me if something bad had happened, wouldn’t she?

  Or would she wait until I got home to tell me?

  I called Joe’s room one more time and finally someone answered. But it wasn’t Joe. It was a woman. An older woman, it sounded like. An older woman who probably smoked too many cigarettes when she was young.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  “Who are you trying to reach?”

  “Joe Wright. He’s my dad. Is he there?”

  “No, I’m sorry. He’s not.” She didn’t offer any other information.

  I sat down on the arm of the couch. “Do you know where he is? Did they move his room again? Who is this?” I asked again.

  “I’m your dad’s roommate’s wife.” Her voice got all muffled, like she was covering up the receiver. “Do you know where your roommate is?” I heard a man’s voice in the background, then the woman came back on. “My husband says they took him for some tests an hour or so ago.”

  “What kind of tests?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe you should talk to one of the nurses.” She gave me the main phone number for the hospital and I repeated it over and over in my head so I wouldn’t forget it.

  “Ask for the fifth floor nurse’s station when you call back,” the woman said.

  “Thanks,” I replied. I hung up and called the other number. I had to go through several other people before I got to talk to one of the nurses on the fifth floor. “Can you tell me where my dad is? His name is Joseph Wright, and the lady in his room said he was taken away for some tests.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” The nurse sounded distracted, like she was doing something else while she was talking to me.

  “What kind of tests?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Privacy rules.”

  “Well, I’m his daughter,” I said. They could tell me where they took him, couldn’t they?

  “Sorry,” the woman said. “We’re not allowed to release patient information to anyone. Not without the patient’s consent.”

  Wouldn’t Joe give them permission to tell me what was going on? “Can you just tell me how he’s doing? I mean, did something happen? Is he getting worse? Is that why he’s having tests?”

  “I’m sorry. I cannot release that information.”

  I sighed. “Well, what information can you release?”

  “All I can do is confirm that he is a patient here.”

  “Gee, thanks,�
� I said. Thanks for nothing.

  Now what was I supposed to do? Wait until he was back in his room and could tell me what was going on himself? What if he never told me? Was there anybody in the entire world I could count on to just tell me the truth?

  The one person I’d always counted on was Gram. But she knew even less than I did right now. She didn’t know Joe was in the hospital or that I was in Iowa or that Sam and Suzanne had come back into our lives.

  Well, it wasn’t my idea to keep all that from her.

  Joe wouldn’t be happy, but I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t talk to him. And I had to talk to someone. So I picked up the phone and called Gram.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Why didn’t anyone tell me Joe was in the hospital?” Gram asked. She sounded like a little girl. Why didn’t anyone tell me I had a mom and sister out there? “Joe didn’t want you to worry,” I said. “I was worried anyway. I knew something was wrong when he didn’t come to visit. He hasn’t been to see me in months.”

  “It hasn’t been months,” I told her. “The accident was just on Monday. He visited you every day until then.”

  Gram didn’t freak out on me. I had to repeat some things a couple times, but I was pretty sure she understood everything I said about Joe’s accident. In fact, she almost seemed like the old Gram. Strong and ready to solve this problem. She said she would call the hospital and see what she could find out about the tests. Then she asked who was taking care of me while Joe was in the hospital … which was exactly the opening I needed to tell her everything else.

  I let the whole story pour out—from Sam showing up on our doorstep three weeks ago, to meeting Suzanne for the first time at the police station, to the custody hearing with the judge, to the letter Suzanne wrote me, to my trip here. It felt good to finally tell her. But she was really quiet when I finished.

  “Gram? Did you hear everything I just said?” Did she understand? It took a long time to go through all that. Gram doesn’t do well with stories that take a long time to tell.

  “Yes, I heard you,” Gram said. Her voice sounded different. Far away.