After a long day at school in ISS (incidentally after a long day high on drugs) I got home that night and got in an argument with my mom. I can't remember what about, but I'm sure it was the usual. Finally, she had had enough of my talking back and lunged for my bed, putting her hands around my neck and nearly choking me. She said the only thing keeping her from killing me right then was that she didn't want to go to jail-- I wasn't worth it. She moved from my bed to the doorway and pointed her finger towards the stairs. "Get out!" She said. At first, I was tentative. I looked at her as if she was a madwoman. At this point, I was quite sure she had gone mad. "Are you serious?" I asked. "Get out." she replied more firmly. She was now standing in my door way and I shuffled past her, so as to avoid the swift kick in the ass, and then I left... running. Suddenly, I was running away. I wasn't nonchalantly walking down the street. I wasn't just cooling off. I was absolutely running. I'm not sure why. Perhaps, I was afraid she would change her mind and come after me. Perhaps I was afraid she was already on the phone with my Officer Friendly (Ish)... I just had to run.
My little brother chased me down the street as fast and far as he could, screaming my name. I couldn't help but turn around to see him. He had tears running down his face and was struggling to keep up with me. It hurt me to see, but I had different priorities now. I had never been close to my brother. I told him to go home, then turned and kept running.
I ran up to the main street until I got to an unfamiliar residential street that led me to the top of the gravel pit. I sat at the top of the hill catching my breath and taking in the scenery. It was surprisingly peaceful that night. It was such a stark contrast to what I was feeling inside. After resting for a few minutes, I headed down into the pit and just wandered aimlessly for a bit.
I wanted to talk to Megan. I was sure that the phone tree had begun by now. I was sure that her mother had already heard the entire story... but I needed to talk to her, to have an ally. When I dialed our work number, my boss answered the phone. She must have sensed the urgency in my voice when I asked for Megan. She asked if everything was okay, and I ended up explaining the short story of what had happened to her. She put Megan on the phone. With nowhere to go and no one to turn to, I got on the TRAX and aimlessly rode north and south a few times just trying to pass the time while I thought things through. I called Megan back at work and my boss once again answered the phone. She was worried about me and wondered what I was going to do. She said my parents had been calling there to see if I went there and were looking for me. She gave me a co-worker's phone number and told me to call her-- that she wasn’t working that day. I called her, NIcki, and explained the situation. She asked where I was and immediately came and picked me up at the TRAX stop.
I went over to her house and hung out there. It was the usual activity at her house. Tim and Jamie were there smoking endless amounts of weed. As much as I wanted to partake and to ease my troubled mind, I restrained, thinking it was probably better. I know the next day would be a shitty one regardless, and decided that the least amount of drugs I had in me at the time, the better. I knew that Ish would definitely be in the picture, but I wasn't sure when or how. It was an uneasy night of sleeping.
**Part 2**
The next morning, we were all slow to recover. We slowly got up. We spent most of the morning talking and hanging out in her backyard, smoking cigarettes and passing time. Nicki asked what my plans were and I told her I honestly didn't know. I didn't want to stay with them much longer because I didn't want them to get in trouble for "harboring a runaway" or something like that. It just didn't seem very fair. I told them that I needed to talk to Megan. I asked if they could drop me off at school during the lunch hour so I could find her and also retrieve some clean clothes from our locker.
At around noon, we headed towards the school. She dropped me off by the park, so as not to be seen dropping me off. I headed for school and immediately found Megan. As we were walking and talking trying to catch up on the eventful night/day, it was clear the rumors had already started. People I didn't even know knew my name were coming up to me and asking if I was okay and what was going on. Apparently, there was a note in all the teachers boxes telling them that if I showed up I needed to be immediately escorted to Quarnberg's office. Quarnberg was one of the Vice Principals. For some reason, he had taken quite the interest in me that school year and I became his own personal crusade. Rather than meeting with Breen, my assigned VP, I was always brought to Q. With this new information saying that I was in hot pursuit at the moment, we decided to be quick about retrieving goods from the locker. We hurried over there and that's when it happened.
We were immediately cornered from all angles. The school police officer, Radley, came down the hallway in the middle of the school, and LeAnn and Renee, the two hall-monitors, came up the perpendicular hallway, one from each end, until they met at the intersection where we were. They came marching down the hall with walkie-talkies in hand. They had purpose.
"Come with me."
"You need to come with us now."
I was escorted down the hall, one on each side of me, and one trailing a few feet behind us. We were on our way to Quarnberg's office. I got in his office, took a seat on his couch and he sat across from me with those almost concerned eyes and said flat out, "What's going on?"
Of course, my sixteen year old attitude factored in and I answered cooley, "What do you mean?"
"This morning, I got a phone call from an Officer Marquez saying that if you were to show up, you were to be escorted to a secure place and held there until he could pick you up. It's not everyday a police officer is demanding to be contacted when someone shows up at school. So again, what's going on?"
I sat dumbly for a few minutes. "I got kicked out."
"That's not what I hear," he retorted.
"Then why are you asking me what happened? My mom and I got in a fight last night and she kicked me out of her house. I show up here to get some clothes from Megan and now I am here."
He seemed unconvinced. He got up and walked across the room to his desk. He picked up the phone and said he had some phone calls to make and for me to sit tight. I heard him talking to what I assumed were my parents. He told them I was here, and then, no, he hadn't called Officer Marquez yet. Then, he hung up. The next call was Officer Marquez. The call was short and simple. "Yes, she's here. Yes, she's in my office. We're not going anywhere. See you soon."
Then, completely shifting gears, he turns to me and says, "What are we going to do about your grades and attendance, missy. We need you playing volleyball next year. I'm not sure what is going on, but you can talk to me, you know that, right?" There was a long period of awkward silence while Q did some paperwork and small-talked with me.
Suddenly, the buzzer in his office. "Todd, there is an Officer Ishmael Marquez here to see you." Next thing I know, the door is flying open and Ish comes storming up to me, fury in his eyes. Wow... what did Mom tell him this time? He gets right up in my face and demands me to get up. After searching my body, searching my bag, and thanking Quarnberg, he handcuffs me, and leads me out through the foyer to his squad car. Quarnberg sat there kind of shocked by the brutality of the situation. Due to a previous similar encounter we had had once before, he undid my handcuffs and moved them to the front and opened the front passenger door for me. I got in and we were off. It seemed like much less of a spectacle than the previous time and I was thankful for that. I'm sure the rumor mill really got going, though.
As we were driving, I tried to small-talk so as to ease into my side of the story. He immediately told me to shut up. He said he was so angry with me and he didn't want to talk to me yet. No problem, I thought. I can sit here. I had gotten good with awkward silences over the past few months. Then, not a minute later, he pulls out his cell phone and says, "I have to call your parents."
"Sure," I respond heartlessly, staring out the window.
Apparently he was expecting more from me. He went on to explain that my parents had wanted me drug tested, but that he didn't so much want to do that. I asked him why not. He gave me an idiot's look and said that if he drug tested me, he would have to report it to them, and would also have to make a police report and charge me with whatever he found. "Oh," was all I could muster. I wasn't sure if I believed him or not. Changing from his tough-guy demeanor to his officer-friendly demeanor, he asked, "Why don't you just tell me what I would find... that way we can bypass this entire situation." I looked at him untrustingly, with raised eyebrows. He knew I was sizing him up and wondering why it was that I should trust him. "I promise," he said.
Figuring I had nothing to lose either way, I confessed. I told him that he would find the usual-- THC. He didn't look convinced. "Is that all?" he asked. "No, I did acid on Monday, too." He shook his head, told me what an idiot I was and how bad that was for my body. He told me that it would stay in my spinal fluid forever. All this, I already knew. Then, he dropped it. "That's all?" he asked again. "That's all," I confirmed. He picked up his phone and dialed my mom. "Yes, I have her here. We're on our way to Youth Services. No, I can't do that. No, I'm sorry. No, I'm sorry, I can't do that. I'll call you later and let you know the plan." I looked at him confused. "I promised. I won't drug test you now." He had kept his word. I smiled to myself. A small victory for me over my parents.
Rather than heading for the usual Youth Services building to the west of the freeway in South Salt Lake, we headed south towards the mall. Noting the confusion on my face, he told me that we had some errands we had to run first. We pulled up to the Sandy City Police Station and he removed my handcuffs. "This is my work. I have some paperwork to take care of. I'll introduce you to some people." I followed him in to his office where he proceeded to introduce me to some of his coworkers and give me a quick tour of the facility. Weird, I was thinking. I could almost sense a sort of satisfaction or arrogance about being able to show me around. Then he instructed me to sit quietly in a little corner of his office while he put together his report. I wish I could have seen that report. He complained to me that he hated having to do paperwork and I was pushing more than his fair share in his direction. I smiled sarcastically. After what seemed like entirely too long, he got up from his computer and motioned for me to follow. We were leaving.
We headed to a small Youth Services building by the mall. It was like a miniature holding place for delinquent kids and teens. There were little thug-wannabes all over, sitting at small desks and working on papers. I was put into a desk and told to be quiet. Ish talked to the people there, then talked to me. He explained that he had to leave, but that my parents would be coming by later and they would figure out what to do with me. That was the only information I was given. I had a strange flash-back to when I lost at Lagoon when I was little. (**Lagoon**)
I sat stubbornly staring at the wall for what may have been hours. There were only a few of us in the building now. We weren't allowed to talk. Finally, I saw my parents pull up outside. I began to dread what would happen next. Immediately, my "tough kid" ice came over my eyes and I refused to look in their direction. They entered another area and went directly into a small room out of my direct line of sight. After a few minutes, I was summoned. They brought me into the room with my parents. I can't recall the fruit of the conversation, but the end of it included comments about "my bad attitude" and my parents not wanting to take me home. They had refused to bring me clothes (at my request), yet still would not take me home. They left, and I grew angrier as I returned to the small "classroom" of waiting children/teens. One of the social workers informed me that I would not be going home and would have to wait for transport. Here we go again, I thought.
