The Lost Saint

“Actually, Grace”—Gabriel finally paid attention to me—“Mr. Shumway specifically named you as the captain of the second group, and I agree that you’d be the perfect fit. Your team will be working with the Rock Canyon Foundation as part of their Good Samaritan project. You’ll be split into pairs and assigned a driver, who will take you around to their various projects in the city and the neighboring towns. Anything from delivering food for Meals on Wheels, working at the Boys and Girls Club, helping the elderly with household tasks … whatever they need. This group will really be getting out there and serving the needs of the community.”


“This is bogus,” Chris said. “My dad will never let us go off campus like that.”

“Actually, your father will be helping oversee your group today. And I think you’ll make a good co-captain for Grace.”

Even more perfect. I doubted Chris had done a single school assignment in the last three years. The only reason he hadn’t been kicked out of HTA was because his dad was the principal. I could just picture myself doing all the work on my own.

I was about to protest and insist on being in Daniel’s group, but I realized this might be the perfect opportunity to look for Jude in the city again. Maybe I’d be able to sneak away at some point—stake out The Depot, more incognito this time, or some of the other surrounding businesses.

“Okay,” I said. “So when do we get started?”





ON THE SCHOOL BUS




Gabriel hadn’t been kidding about Mr. Shumway’s having made all the arrangements already. He had permission slips signed by all of our parents, and we were set to get working immediately.

Half the class went to the market with Daniel and Gabriel, and the rest of us got on a school bus with Principal Conway. I thought we wouldn’t be getting started at least until the next day, but Gabriel said that the project was actually supposed to start last Friday, so the Rock Canyon people were eager to get us working. I didn’t have a problem with this sudden development, since it meant that I’d be able to get to the city sooner than expected.

Only Principal Conway informed us that we would be meeting the Good Samaritan group at the rec center in Apple Valley. Just a few of us would even be going into the city at all—depending on our driver’s agenda.

I passed out the stack of papers Gabriel had handed to me just before I got on the bus. He’d already paired everyone up, with Chris and me working together, just as I’d feared. When the bus pulled up to the rec center, we all filed out into the parking lot and were met by a line of vans marked with the Rock Canyon logo—two hands clasped.

“Your driver will have you back here in two hours, then we’ll all take the bus back to the school,” I instructed. Then the group broke up, and I hung back with Principal Conway to make sure everyone got into the correct vans and made it off all right.

I felt a pang of jealousy as I waved to April and Claire as they pulled out of the parking lot with a middle-aged female driver in the last of the vans. My slip of paper said I was supposed to be on van number 8, but there had been only seven vans to begin with, and now everyone but the principal, Chris, and me was gone.

“That’s strange,” Principal Conway said. “I’ll go talk to the director and see what the holdup is with the last van.” He pulled out his cell phone and walked inside the rec center.

Chris and I stood alone in the parking lot for a moment. The wind tossed my hair. I rubbed my arms. It had been an exceptionally warm autumn this year, but now I found myself wishing I’d brought a light jacket. Hopefully, the last van wouldn’t take too long to get here.

“This is lame,” Chris said. “I’m out.”

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and started to walk away.

“Um, where do you think you’re going?” I called after him.

“I saw an arcade down the street. I’ll be back in a couple of hours before the bus leaves.”

“But the van is here.” I pointed at the white van with dark tinted windows and the clasped-hands logo that was just now pulling into the parking lot.

“Whatever,” Chris said, and kept walking.

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