I put my hand on her shoulder and reassure her, “Your dad is right. That stuff is for people who aren’t as smart as you are.” I pause, trying to think if I should push this any further. But from the tired look on her face, I know it’s time to stop it right here. “Speaking of smart, you’re not going to ace this history exam unless we get back to studying. Open up your book and read to me about General Washington and his spies, okay?”
Another hour passes as both of us get back into the groove. Maddie’s really starting to pick up concepts and vocab words. And her cursing is improving with each new piece of gum I’m supplying her. Still, I remain in my chair, quiet and somber. I interject every so often to give Maddie corrections or to ask her questions from my teacher’s version of the textbook.
But every part of my mind is focused on a completely different project. I am turning over my words, rehearsing each line. I need to know exactly what I am going to say to Maddie’s father when he walks through those doors. And I need all the courage to confront him on how he is raising his child in this hell hole of a den.
Chapter 16: In the Middle
CAL
I hear Michelle’s voice through the crowd in the living room, “What day did the Battle of Yorktown occur?” She sounds strong but tired. I look down at my watch to see she’s been here for at least three hours now. She’s never been here for a tutoring session this long. I thought I had managed to wait her out in those woods.
“September…September…September 26th?” Maddie pauses a minute before exclaiming, “No! The 28th! Like my birthday! September 28th!” I’ve never heard her this excited to be learning. Maybe there’s something worth it in these tutoring sessions. I mean, I don’t even know what the Battle of Yorktown is, let alone when it started.
“Okay, that’s great. Use that to remember the correct answer on Monday’s test. I guarantee you it’s going to be asked. Now, second question, who surrendered to General Washington?”
“Lord Cornwally.”
Michelle giggles a bit before correcting her, “Cornwallis.”
“Whatever. He was still a pansy.”
I try my best not to bust out laughing. Maddie certainly had my crude sense of humor. But I doubt a tightass like Michelle could really appreciate that.
“Why would you say that? He was a great leader. He was following commands. And, up until a point, the British were holding off the colonists and taking back their land bit by bit. Plus, think of all the men that could have died under his commands if he made them go up against the French and their navy.”
“He’s still a pansy, Miss Springer.”
“Gum, Maddie!” I peek through the door to see Maddie spit out a piece of gum into her hand and Michelle press a button on her phone.
“But he was! If I were him, I wouldn’t back down or surrender. I’d fight to the death! That’s what my dad would do.” I’m swelling with pride. My daughter thinks of me as some great general of troops, someone who would go down with the ship if need be. She’s right. I wouldn’t give in or give up just because the Coyotes had bigger motorcycles or more men. I’d just fight harder.
“Then your dad wouldn’t survive very long. War, especially during the 1700s was all about strategy and command. It’s like playing a game of chess. You have to think about what is ahead rather than what is in front of you. And, for the British, losing all those men against their enemy the French was not worth it in the long run when they could wait and see if the colonies collapsed and try to take it over at a later period of time.”
Of course she thinks surrendering is the right thing to do. She wouldn’t know a thing about staying strong or fighting with honor. All Michelle Springer knows is giving in when the going gets tough. She couldn’t even survive a ride with me.
Michelle pauses before moving on. I can tell she is hesitant to ask, “Maddie, what is your dad’s position in this, uh, club of his? I mean, does he have a title like Commander or General?”
Maddie laughs heartily, her mother’s belly laugh. “Oh no! Miss Springer, he’s not like General Washington. He’s a Vice. Like, Vice President. But no one calls him Mr. Vice President Cal. They just call him Cal.”
“Okay, then what does a Vice President do?”
I’m uneasy about these questions. What’s it to her? She wanted to be far away from this club stuff, not get more involved and in the know. That’s what she said to me when she broke up our sleeping together.
“He leads the men, puts them in their places. He makes sure everyone does what they are supposed to do. And he helps with the enforcers. They’re the guys who puts the hurt on the Coyotes or workers that don’t follow orders. That’s who he’s riding out with today. They went down to the garage to---”
I burst through the door, stopping Maddie from saying too much. I can’t trust that Michelle wouldn’t learn about where I was and then use it against me later down the road. Who knows, she may already be compromised or speaking to the pigs.
“Maddie,” I bark as I throw her the bag of Mr. Clucky’s takeout food, “Go upstairs and eat in your room. You’re done for tonight.”