Rude Awakenings: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 2)

Chapter Nine: Lauren, Summer, 1979

Running. She was running. There was no thought at all, only her legs pumping. All objects in her field of vision were blurs, obstacles to be avoided only. Intersections were ignored, her own peril unimportant. She had no concern for herself. Every particle of her being hurtled in one direction, towards one purpose: get to help.

She ran, not only to find aid, but to outrun the image of that hand, that big hand, grabbing Rachel's shirt and yanking her inside the Trybek house. If she could just run fast enough, she could beat the Devil of that hand and what it might be doing to Rachel right now. She couldn't let herself think, because if she did she would sink into self-recrimination, for not being right at Rachel's side to fight off that hand before it could take her; for not considering the possibility that Mr. Trybek was home even though he was normally at work at this time; for being across the street and unable to do anything to help even after she'd told Rachel she was looking out for her.

It never occurred to her to knock on the doors of the other houses on Boyne Street, where the Trybeks lived. If she had, she might have gotten help to Rachel faster. That kind of logic was meaningless to a thirteen year old girl in a state of panic. Shock had whittled down all options for ending this nightmare to one: go back to Lawrence Street, because Lawrence Street was where her friends were, where the safe grown-ups were, and they would know what to do. She was like a homing pigeon with one destination in its head, a compass pointing to magnetic north. 

She was vaguely aware that a car narrowly avoided hitting her as it made a left turn from Ewen onto the street while she zipped across it. A blaring horn followed her, dopplering the further away she sped. Later she would not even remember this detail, much less tell anybody about it. It mattered not at all to her. All that mattered was that her best friend in the entire world was in the house of a big, abusive man, with nobody to help her, and if she got hurt or worse, Lauren would never forgive herself. She would crumble to dust and fade away, without Rachel to keep her glued together. Rachel was the first kid who ever accepted her for who she was; she was her confidant, her vault of Lauren's fantasies about Joe; even, it made her feel weird to admit it, her first partner in something sexual, and it would take thirty more years for that relationship to be reconfirmed.

She knew she was at Mrs. Anderson's house before her vision brought it into focus; her muscle memory knew these streets from all the trips they'd made delivering papers over the past year. They'd been delivering papers, and Rachel had been bringing one to the Trybeks' house, when tragedy struck. Lauren had left her wagon and remaining papers behind in her rush to get here. She didn't know how long it took her to get here, but that didn't matter either; every second she took was another second too long.

"Mrs. Anderson!" she screamed as she rushed up the front stairs, nearly tripping in her haste. She banged on the screen door so hard she feared she might punch through the screen.

"Over here!" Mrs. Anderson called as she came around the side. "I saw you hurrying up the stairs, Lauren, what's wrong?"

"CallthepoliceRachel'sintrouble!" Lauren shrieked.

"What? Slow down, girl!" Mrs. Anderson commanded, but she was concerned now.

"Mr. Trybek pulled Rachel into his houuuuuuuse!" Lauren wailed, close to tears. No. She couldn't cry now. She needed to keep it together, for Rachel's sake. "She's in there, and who knows what he's doing to her, and we need to call the police!"

Mrs. Anderson's face drained of colour, and she said something far worse than Rachel had ever heard her say.

"Oh, fuck," she breathed. "I'll call them! Then we'll go back there together!" She knew where the Trybeks lived because she'd accompanied Danny back home just a few days ago, a huge mistake in Lauren's opinion. Danny had run away, and they'd taken him back to his abuser. Who did that? And now Rachel was in danger from the same man.