“Grandma Bernice is my mom’s mom. She never comes here. Not since mom died. Dad must’ve told her the story to get her over here.”
She walks quickly towards the door and places a hand on the knob. I have just enough time to ask her, “Are you sure, Maddie? Your dad said not to answer it for anyone but him. He didn’t mention your grandma.”
“No, it’s cool. I recognize her voice.” She is plenty self-assured – I’ll grant her that – but I've had enough danger for the night.
I leap out of bed and walk towards the corner, eying the open window as an escape route. I’m certainly not going to die because someone has decided to play a sick head game with a little girl and her teacher.
Maddie opens the door slowly and peers out. Confirming the person’s identity, she opens it wider and runs to an older woman dressed in black, holding tight to a cane. “Grandma! What are you doing here?”
“Your dad called me. He’s out on a ride with the rest of the club and asked if I would take you home with me for a few days. How could I say no to that?” She’s sweet, the total package of a grandma. It’s hard to picture this woman raising a girl who later got killed because she rode with a dangerous, drug dealing motorcycle club. Grandma Bernice looks more like she’s ready to bake some cookies – not sit on the back of a Harley.
“Here, Grandma, I want you to meet someone,” Maddie says hurriedly, motioning in my direction. “This is my teacher, Miss Springer. She was staying with me while they had their meeting. She was here when they shot off at the house!” Maddie says it so proudly, as if it is a badge of honor to wear. I more wanted to run off into the darkness screaming in fear rather than be here – but, I have to admit, it’s kind of sweet to be introduced like this.
I walk over slowly, outstretching my arm towards her. Grandma Bernice looks me up and down, staring at my outfit. It’s obviously not what she had in mind for a teacher to wear – especially one doing house calls. It’s obvious she knows why I’m here and how I ended up becoming Maddie’s caretaker. It’s equally obvious that she doesn’t like it.
“Maddie,” her grandma says, “why don’t you run downstairs, grab a few snacks from the kitchen, and then wait for me there. I want to thank your teacher before we go.”
Maddie obeys, running quickly down the stairs. We’re left alone, just the two of us. Something tells me this isn’t going to end well.
“So,” she began cautiously, “you’re Maddie’s teacher? What were you doing here tonight so late?”
How did I end up on the interrogation seat? She’s already shooting daggers at me, like she knows exactly what kind of person I am. I quickly slip into defense mode. “Maddie got into some trouble at school earlier this week,” I explain. “Her father and I were discussing her school performance and making plans on what we should do. That’s when we got shot at. I’m only here because he won’t let me go home.”
“I see,” she says, a frown of disbelief on her face. “Well, let me give you a warning about Cal, Miss Springer. My daughter was his old lady for over five years before they had Maddie. And in that time, she transformed into something dark hearted, evil. It’s no secret I blame him for who she became when she died. And even more so, I blame him for her death. His club and their war was the reason why she died in the crosshairs.”
I don’t see why this matters. I already knew about Maddie’s mom dying, and her personality change seemed totally unimportant. What does it have to do with me?
“Listen, young lady,” she continues, connecting the dots for me, “You run with a motorcycle club man, you risk it all. You saw those girls down there. I heard one got shot. They get brainwashed and sucked in. And then they are the ones who pay for their man’s mistake. And Cal’s girls get the worst of it. You look like a nice girl, Miss Springer. I suggest tomorrow morning, or whenever Cal lets you go home, you stay there. Don’t get involved with him. Don’t get involved with Maddie. Do your job, and forget about both of them.” With that, she slowly turns and heads back down the stairs.
I stand still, motionless. Inside me, a million cogs turn rapidly as I tried to make sense of it all. This woman knows the dangers; she saw it firsthand with her daughter. And she saw it through to death. She knows exactly what she was talking about.