Under the Viaduct by H. Anderson (first e reader txt) 📗

narrowed his eyes at her. “Almost twenty years. Why?”

Excited words came bubbling out of her. “My thesis project, it’s about…well based on…a homeless woman and the family-like group she’s formed with young adults in the streets of…well, the streets. This woman, Mama C, she used to work here. Maybe you knew her. Her name is Claire—”

“Watson,” the resource officer finished for her.

“Yes!”

“Claire’s homeless?” Wrinkles appeared on his forehead.

Kaylee looked at her shoes and lowered her voice, the excitement at finding someone who knew Mama C dampened. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“I think I need to hear the whole story. Follow me.” Officer Weyland led her into the office where he leaned on the counter and said, “Lindsay, will you call Mrs. Jones and Ms. Owens to the office, please. Then the three of you meet us in the teacher’s lounge.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead leading Kaylee back through the office into a small, dingy lounge. “Coffee?” he asked.

She rubbed her hand absently across her abdomen, trying to decide if coffee would help or make worse the roiling going on inside her. “No, thank you.”

“Have a seat.” He motioned to a plastic chair across from where he stood at the coffee maker. “I have a lot of questions, but we’ll wait until the others get here so you don’t have to tell your story twice.”

Kaylee nodded and sat, thoughts running around in her head like ants with too much caffeine. She stood as the secretary entered with two other women.

“Lindsay, Beth, Sarah—this is Kaylee Burke,” the officer said.

Kaylee reached for Lindsay’s hand and, shaking it, said, “I think we spoke on the phone last week.” The secretary nodded and looked up at Officer Weyland. Kaylee shook hands with the two teachers. They shut the door behind them and all found seats.

Officer Weyland spoke first. “Kaylee here has some news, and some questions I assume, about Claire Watson.”

The only one who didn’t look surprised was Lindsay.

Kaylee reached into her jacket pocket, then stopped. “Can I… Is it okay if I take some notes?”

The others looked at each other, then her, and nodded.

With a quiet sigh of relief, she pulled the notebook and pen out of her pocket and flipped it open to the page she’d written her questions on. She looked up at four expectant faces, sweat broke out on her forehead and her voice quavered a little as she spoke. “Okay…umm…did you all know Mama…I mean, Mrs. Watson well?”

Beth raised an eyebrow when Kaylee slipped and said “mama.” But she answered first. “The four of us were inseparable here at school.”

“And we got together once a month to play Bunko,” Sarah said.

“What is going on?” Lindsay asked. Brow furrowed. “Where is Claire?”

“I’m not sure she wants…actually, I’m pretty sure, positive really, that she doesn’t want anyone to know where she is.” She hurried to continue before the three growly-faced ladies could let her have it. “But I can tell you she’s homeless and has been that way for nine or ten years.”

There was a collective gasp from the women, Mama C’s old friends, then the questions came rapidly and in three different voices. “Is she okay?” “Is she crazy?” “Where is she?” Again.

Kaylee raised a hand, palm forward and waited for the storm to calm. “Can I ask some questions first and then I’ll answer yours as best I can? Please?”

Beth settle back into her chair with a quiet huff. “Fine. But you’d better answer our questions, starting with why you’re here.”

Leaning forward slightly, Kaylee explained again about her thesis before beginning her questioning. “So, what was Mrs. Watson like, before the fire?”

Lindsay and Sara looked at Beth. “You were her bestie, you answer,” Sara said.

With a nod, Beth started. “She was an angel. Don’t get me wrong, she was strict, the strictest teacher of all of us. But the kids loved her anyway. She had a way of getting to the troubled students. Getting to them and forcing all the good in them up to the surface so the bad choked on it.” She shook her head. “It was magical, watching her do her thing with these kids.”

Sara nodded, wiping at a tear leaving a trail of dark mascara on her cheek. “It doesn’t surprise me at all that she’s taken some young homeless kids under her wing.”

Beth laid her hand on top of Sara’s and continued. “And boy oh boy did she love that husband and son of hers. Danny put that woman on a pedestal and she did everything within her power to keep him happy. Their son, Eugene, he was a bright boy. They had him later in life and Claire proclaimed him a miracle from the day she found out she was pregnant at age thirty-seven. He got a scholarship, an academic one, to Syracuse. Would have moved there that fall if…” Lindsay handed her a tissue.

Officer Weyland took over from her. “She loved that boy like no mother before her. Every morning she’d come in and have coffee with me and talk about Eugene. How he wanted to be a scientist and help find a cure for childhood cancer. How he volunteered at the children’s hospitals whenever he had time. She was so proud when he got a full scholarship to Syracuse.”

Kaylee wanted to ask about the fire, but she couldn’t get her voice to work. She pictured the three of them—Mama C, Daniel, and Eugene—celebrating his achievements. How happy and proud she must have been.

“The fire,” Lindsay spoke in a near whisper. “It was horrible. I was here, in the office, when the police came to tell her.” Her eyes glassed over with the memory. “You could hear her screams all the way out in the yard.”

Silence filled the room, except for the sniffling and quiet, choked sobs being released after ten years of being stifled. Kaylee let the tears roll freely down her face until Lindsay handed the tissue box to her. “And after? What did she do after the fire?” Kaylee uttered.

Beth blew