Baby Alicia Is Dying Page 5

  Desi nodded thoughtfully, wishing that her mother were as easy to relate to as her aunt.

  On Monday morning Desi climbed off the school bus and headed for her locker. She was glad that Thanksgiving break was only three days away. She needed time away from the vibes and undercurrents she kept feeling at school.

  She had almost reached her locker when she noticed kids pointing at her and whispering. The back of her neck tingled. Why had she suddenly become the topic of conversation? At her locker she stopped and stared. Spray-painted red letters left a hateful message: “Get Out, Nigger Queer Lover.”

  Chapter Eight

  Too shocked to move, Desi stared, but the shock gave way to horror, and horror to fear. She backed away, turned, and ran, shoving past people, struggling to keep her tears inside.

  She hit the main entrance and raced down the steps. She ran until her lungs burned and her legs felt rubbery. She stopped at a corner and willed her heart to cease pounding. All around her, morning traffic flowed. The rest of the world appeared perfectly normal.

  She wondered what to do. She couldn’t go back to school, and she had no way to get home. As she dug into her purse, looking for bus fare, a car pulled up at the curb. She recognized the rumble of the broken muffler instantly. “Get in,” Brian said, leaning across the seat and opening the door.

  She didn’t need an invitation, and jumped inside. “Did—did you see my locker?” she asked haltingly as he pulled out into traffic.

  “I just heard about it.”

  She buried her face in her hands. “Why would someone do that? Why would someone write those awful words?”

  “Because some people are stupid and mean. And gutless too. You can’t pay any attention to idiots like that.”

  “But how can they hate me so much? They don’t even know me.” She fumbled for a tissue.

  “The operative word is hate, Desi. Hate has its own agenda and doesn’t need a reason.”

  “I’ve heard about hate groups, but I never expected to run into one in high school.”

  “Grady has a couple of them. People who hate everyone who’s different—blacks, gays, any minority—it doesn’t matter. They’re misguided jerks who spout ‘ethnic purity’ and have no tolerance for anyone who’s different from them. I think it’s a disease worse than AIDS.”

  “Ethnic purity”—he used a term she’d read in history books and heard occasionally on the nightly news. Until now the phrase had had no meaning, but all at once she saw it in all its ugliness. She found a tattered tissue in her purse and blew her nose. “Do these kids really think I’m going to give them AIDS because I volunteer at the ChildCare house?”

  “Probably not, but it is a scary disease. Fear makes people do dumb things.” Brian pulled into a parking place beside a public park. “Come on, let’s walk.”

  Her legs felt shaky, but she walked with him. They crossed the grass and stopped at a pond where ducks swam on murky, sun-studded water. A cool breeze dried the dampness on her cheeks. Desi felt tired and completely drained. “It’s hard to believe kids like us belong to hate groups.”

  “Believe it,” Brian said. “But you can’t spend your life looking over your shoulder, wondering if someone’s going to grab you.”

  Until he mentioned it, the idea hadn’t crossed her mind. “Do you think someone might try and hurt me?”

  “I don’t think so. People like that use fear as their biggest weapon. They use scare tactics because they’re cowards.”

  “Well, their tactics are working,” Desi confessed. She glanced sideways, saw his rugged profile, his muscular build and long hair, and recalled that the first time she’d met him she’d been slightly fearful of him. Then another thought occurred to her. “How do you know so much about these hate groups?”

  “I’m blond and blue-eyed. The perfect candidate for racial purity.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I told them all to leave me alone, that I wasn’t interested.”

  Overwhelmed by all that had happened that morning, Desi suddenly thought of her mother’s world of high school innocence. Had that kind of world vanished altogether? “So you think I should ignore the message on my locker?”

  “If you don’t ignore it, then they’ve got you where they want you.”

  “I don’t want to play by their rules,” Desi told him with more courage than she felt. “And I won’t give up my volunteer work.”

  He took her by the elbow and turned her to face him. “If people would only use their brains, they’d realize that the medical types at that house aren’t going to let you be around something that’s hazardous to your health. I mean, they wouldn’t knowingly risk a lawsuit now, would they?”

  Desi agreed with him. What Brian said made perfect sense.

  “And I’m sure that your parents wouldn’t let you do something that might be harmful to you either.”

  “My mom’s sort of been hassling me,” she confessed.

  “Hassling is what moms do best,” Brian said with a grin.

  “Maybe we could do our science fair project about AIDS,” Desi suggested. “I can get all the information we need from ChildCare, so no long hours of being stuck in the library doing basic research. I’ll bet it’ll score points with Mr. Redding. Practically a guaranteed A.”

  “I’m not so sure I want to do a project about AIDS.”

  “Why not?”

  “Hey, don’t take it personally. I don’t want to do any science project. I’ve got my job on top of my studies, and I don’t want to overextend myself.”

  “Not even for an A? You said you had to pass this year.”

  “We are passing. Your surgical skills slicing open frogs, my neat, organized journal keeping—we’ve got this course down cold. All I want is to pass the thing.”

  “But a project—”

  “Forget it. We can make it fine without all the extra-credit work.”

  She was disappointed. For a time she’d thought they’d been on the same wavelength, that they’d shared some deep understanding about life. Now she saw that except for his explanation about organized hate groups, Brian was just a lazy student. He was content to slide by, and there was nothing she could say to motivate him.

  They stood at the edge of the pond in an awkward silence. The sun warmed the back of Desi’s neck and shoulders. “So now what?” he asked. “Where do you want to go? Back to school?”

  “No. I can’t go back there today.”

  “Home?”

  “Not there either.” She didn’t want to tell him that she hated the thought of being alone all day. “If Mom finds out about the hate message, she’ll make me give up going to ChildCare for sure.”

  “So where?”

  She turned to face him. “Will you take me to ChildCare? Maybe I can help out today and get my mind off this whole thing. If you take me, I’ll introduce you to Alicia.”

  “Who’s she?”

  Desi smiled mysteriously. “It’s a surprise. But I will tell you this—she’s drop-dead beautiful.”

  “Thank heavens you’re here,” Sadie said the moment Desi and Brian arrived. “Two of our regulars phoned in sick with the flu, and our backup helper is staying with Anthony at the hospital this morning.”

  Desi introduced an obviously self-conscious Brian, then asked, “Where’s Alicia?”

  “Just stirring from her morning nap. Maybe you could bathe her.”

  Desi seized Brian’s arm and dragged him down the hall into the sunny yellow bedroom that Alicia and Heather shared. Alicia was lying in her crib, babbling to herself and kicking at the slats. When Desi leaned over, the baby’s face lit up, and she reached her arms upward. Desi scooped her up and hugged her close. “This is Alicia,” Desi cooed, holding Alicia toward Brian, who shifted from foot to foot. “Isn’t she adorable?”

  The baby seemed to study him, then swatted the air and buried her face in Desi’s neck. Desi laughed. “Do you always have that effect on women?”

  “Very funny. I prefer my women a little older
, that’s all.”

  “Come on. You can watch me give her a bath.”

  “Are you kidding?” He shifted nervously. “I’ve got to go to work.”

  “School’s not even out yet. You’ve got time.” She went to Alicia’s dresser and sorted through clean clothes with one hand while she held the baby in her other arm. “You could give me a hand, you know.” She smiled at Brian. “Trust me. It’ll be fun.”

  He came over and halfheartedly picked through the jumble of baby clothes. “How do I know what goes together?” He found a white nylon sock trimmed in yellow and another trimmed in pale green.

  “That’s not a fashion statement, Brian.”

  “I know that.” He dug through the drawer until he discovered the mate to the yellow one.

  Desi marched into the bathroom and drew a few inches of warm water into the tub. Quickly she stripped Alicia and sat her in the water. The baby squealed with delight, slapped the water with her feet and hands, and sent sprays all over the front of Brian, who was hovering over the tub.

  He yelped, and Desi giggled. Alicia laughed, clapped her pudgy hands together, and slapped the water again. In minutes the water was puddling on the floor. Brian wailed, “Help me! I’m melting! I’m melting!” just like the witch in The Wizard of Oz. Desi laughed while Alicia kept splashing and squealing.

  After the bath Desi put Alicia in her high chair and fed her. Brian sat in the rocker and watched. He said, “She doesn’t look like a health hazard, does she?”

  Soberly Desi spooned strained apricots into Alicia’s dainty mouth. “She’s just a sweet little baby who never did anything to hurt anybody. It doesn’t seem right that people can hate her just because she might get AIDS.”

  “Yeah, it’s a shame all right.” He stood. “Look, I need to split.”

  Surprised by his abruptness, Desi missed Alicia’s mouth. “Thanks for helping me out today.”

  “Well, I’ve never bathed a baby before.”

  “That’s not what I mean. Thanks for the ride from school. For being there for me.”

  “Will you be okay to go back tomorrow?”

  “What’s a little paint on a locker?” She tried to sound cheerful, but inside she was scared.

  “If it’ll make you feel better, I can wait for you at the main door and walk with you to biology. I mean, we are partners.”

  “I’d like that.” He left, and Desi cleaned Alicia up and sat with her in the rocking chair. “He’s a nice guy,” she whispered to the baby nestled in her arms, feeling some need to explain why she liked having Brian around. “And he needs me to pass biology.” Alicia’s eyelids drooped. Her small hand clutched the front of Desi’s blouse. “And he’s too muscular for my tastes.” The baby slept. “Honest, he’s definitely not my type.”

  Desi gazed down at Alicia’s face, at the sweep of lashes that almost brushed her cheek, at her tiny, perfect lips, at her smooth and flawless brown skin. She smelled of baby powder and clean soap. “I love you, Alicia,” Desi whispered. She bent and pressed her cheek against the baby’s forehead. “And I’ll always be here for you. No matter how hatefully other people behave.”

  She rose and walked the baby to her crib, where she laid her down on her stomach and covered her with a flannel blanket adorned with pink elephants and yellow ducks. Desi’s heart ached with love. She didn’t care how bad things got at school, how mean, how threatening. She would never abandon Alicia. The way the baby’s mother had.

  Chapter Nine

  Desi met Brian at the entrance the next morning and walked beside him to her locker. To her relief she saw that the janitorial staff had removed all traces of the red paint. When the principal made a short speech about the consequences of defacing school property during morning announcements, Desi felt anxious. She hadn’t been called in to the front office and assumed that the administration was dealing with the incident as an act of vandalism, not an attack on Desila Mitchell.

  Over the next week no one at school had much to do with Desi, except for Brian. She told herself she’d never been popular anyway and it didn’t matter—but it did. Especially with Corrine. Her longtime friend’s abandonment hurt Desi. “I’m telling you, Randy takes all my time,” Corrine insisted.

  “Then I guess you’ll be too busy to see much of me over the holiday.”

  “I guess so,” Corrine replied without meeting Desi’s eyes.

  Desi’s hurt turned to anger as she asked herself, Who needs Corrine Johnson anyway? “Well, don’t eat too much turkey. See you around.” Desi left Corrine standing in the hall.

  That afternoon, when Desi went over to ChildCare, Sadie was upset. “It’s Anthony,” Sadie explained.

  “I thought he might be home for Thanksgiving.”

  “We all thought so, but he’s taken a turn for the worse.”

  Desi felt as if an icy hand had squeezed her heart. She had a flood of questions, but before she could ask any, Gayle asked to speak with her privately. Nervously Desi followed her into the living room. The second they sat down on the sofa, she blurted, “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes,” Gayle said bluntly. “You’ve read our guidelines for volunteers, haven’t you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then you know our rules state that family members and friends of volunteers should not accompany them here.” Desi nodded. “Sadie tells me that you brought a friend with you the other day. She didn’t say anything to you at the time because she was so shorthanded. I told her she should have.”

  Desi was ashamed of herself. How could she have forgotten such an important rule? What if Gayle told her she couldn’t be a volunteer anymore? “I’m sorry. I had a bad experience at school that morning, and I didn’t know where else to go. Brian brought me here, and I introduced him to Alicia. We got to playing with her, and I just didn’t think. I’m really sorry.”

  Gayle looked earnestly at Desi. “I’m sure your friend is a perfectly fine person, but we have rules for everyone’s safety. The whole point of ChildCare is to give the babies a consistent, stable home life. We don’t want strangers around them. It causes confusion and breaks into the daily routine.”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  “Plus, you know how careful we have to be about the babies’ being around sick people. Especially now with Anthony so sick. We’re all on guard against germs.”

  It hadn’t occurred to her that Brian might be harboring germs he could have passed on to the babies. “I would never do anything to hurt them.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t. You’re an excellent helper.” Gayle pressed her fingertips against her temples and sighed. “I’m not picking on you, Desi. It’s just that today’s been hard for me. We may lose Anthony. I never get used to watching a child die. Whenever I lose one, I ask, ‘Why? Why do the innocent suffer?’ ”

  She glanced over at Desi. “I’m sorry,” Gayle said. “No one has those answers. In the end I always pull myself together and vow to help all the others. Thank you for caring enough to want to help these babies too.”

  Desi swallowed a lump in her throat. “Nothing’s more important to me than Alicia.” When Gayle said nothing, Desi added, “The others too. I love them all. I want Anthony to get well more than anything! I’m sure he will.”

  Gayle took Desi’s hands in hers. Desi hoped they didn’t feel as cold and clammy to Gayle as they did to her. “Desi, I know that you’re attached to Alicia, but you do understand her situation, don’t you?”

  “Sure I do.”

  “She might develop AIDS at any time.”

  “Well, of course, but—”

  Gayle interrupted. “There is no cure for AIDS.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to Alicia. She’s never been sick.” Desi stood and paced to the window. Outside, fallen leaves in faded autumn colors were scattered over the browning lawn. “I’m real sorry that I broke the rules and let Brian come into the house. I’ll never do it again.”

  Gayle walked over and hugged Desi’s shoulders. �
��We can always use extra help—if he wants to help out—but he’ll have to go through the training program just like everyone else.”

  “I don’t think this is Brian’s thing. He was just doing me a favor.”

  “All right—enough said. I know you’ll be more careful in the future.” Gayle smiled, assuring Desi that the reprimand was behind them. Together they returned to the kitchen. Alicia was with Sadie, but she raised her arms toward Desi the moment she saw her. Desi lifted the baby and cuddled her closely, trying not to be afraid for her. Trying hard to forget that she was HIV-positive and at risk for AIDS.

  Valerie rode home from college with two other students from Atlanta late Wednesday night. All her suitcases and duffel bags were stuffed full. “No laundry facilities in Gainesville?” her father joked as he lugged her things into the house.

  “Oh, Daddy!” She hugged her parents and turned to hug Desi. “I like the way you’re wearing your hair,” Valerie said.

  Desi was pleased. She’d been growing her hair long since school started, but Val was the only one who’d noticed.

  Mom held Val tightly. “It’s good to have you back home. We’ve missed you so much, honey.”

  “But, Mom, it’s only been three months.”

  Her mother held Val at arm’s distance and studied her with glowing eyes. “Are you eating enough? You look thin.”

  Val rolled her eyes. “Mother!”

  Desi laughed, but she had to admit that Val did look much thinner.

  Dad interrupted. “Eva, at least let Val get settled in before you start making her over.” He started up the stairs with the baggage.

  “I’ve got turkey and all the trimmings for tomorrow.” Their mother linked her arm through Valeries and started up the stairs behind him. “And Friday the department stores open as early as eight in the morning, so we’ll hit all the malls. We’ve got so much to do and only a weekend to do it in.”

  “I’ll be home for Christmas,” Val said as her mother continued talking, but she cast a long-suffering look over her shoulder toward Desi. Desi tagged along behind them, wondering if she’d ever be greeted so happily when she came home from college in the years ahead.