Poor Jenny, Bright As A Penny

Chapter 9

Jenny sat in her room at J.D.H. the next afternoon and waited to hear what Mrs. Dermody had to tell her; she had been summoned the minute Mrs. Dermody came on duty.

“Jenny, Sammy was picked up this morning for questioning about that pot party, and about your sister’s disappearance.”

“Where is she?”

“According to Sammy, she and the two boys came back last night as your mother was leaving. They watched her put her suitcases in the car, and they watched you and Bingo get into the patrol car. When everyone was gone, Crystal threw quite a tantrum, Sammy said. Then she packed her things, and left with Clayhill. Sammy says he doesn’t know where they went, but Crystal said, ‘The farther the better.’ That’s all the police learned, Jenny. It isn’t much or very good news. I’m sorry.”

“It could be worse,” Jenny said. “Crystal’s all right, anyway.”

But how long would she be all right? If we had stayed, Jenny thought, she wouldn’t have run away. We all three would have gone with Lud like Mama told us.

It wouldn’t be any good, though. We would be running from the police. Mama left us. She ran off in the middle of the night and I did the only thing I could, for Bingo’s sake.

But it was hard to convince herself. What would happen to Crystal because of what she had done?

As the weeks passed with no more information about Crystal or Mama, the worry grew into a guilty knot in Jenny’s stomach. It accompanied her even when she thought she had forgotten it for the lovely sense of security she got from having her own room, and a clean bed, and good meals three times a day. Then the old blue Plymouth was found abandoned, as if it might have stopped running at last. Had Mama and Lud bought another car? Or perhaps Mama was not with Lud at all? What would Mama do alone?

She hesitated to tell Bingo, he was so happily settled in. Maybe she shouldn’t stir things up for him. She had never kept anything from Bingo, but now—She was debating what to do when she was taken to meet him on the bench in the hall, and saw him fighting angry tears.

She waited quietly for him to tell her what it was about.

“Mr. Serivan says I’m to be sent to a foster home.”

“What? Why?”

“He says they don’t like to keep displaced children here too long. He says this is the first opening there’s been, so I’m supposed to be happy. Nobody asked me what I wanted! You said we’d be here a long time. You didn’t say anything about a foster home!”

“Well, I didn’t know!” Her sudden guilt at seeing them torn further asunder made her turn her anger on Bingo. “Stop being a baby. You might like it if you tried.”

“I had enough trouble talking myself into liking it here.”

“Oh, come off it. What am I supposed to do? Besides, you knew it would be a long time. Isn’t it better in a foster home than locked up?”

“But I’m used to J.D.H. I want to stay here with you.”

“Well, what you want to do and what you’re going to do are two different things,” Jenny snapped. “It’s part of being alive and growing up that you can’t do as you please all the time!” She knew she was being nasty, but she couldn’t seem to help it. What’s happening to me? she thought. Still, Bingo is acting like a baby. “And what about me. How do you think I’ll feel still locked up while you’re not? Do you realize I spent my sixteenth birthday in jail? Some girls have parties or dates on their sixteenth birthdays. I’ve never even had a date with a boy.”

“What does that have to do with my going to a foster home?”

“Oh, nothing. Only I’ll be locked up and you won’t. You should feel sorry for me.”

“You got us in here,” said Bingo.

*

It was Mama who rescued Bingo. At least she delayed his departure. Before he could be sent away she was picked up and returned to the city. She was tried at once and afterward Jenny and Bingo were allowed to visit her in county jail. Mrs. Dermody said, “There’s another reason for not sending Bingo to the foster home just yet,” but she would not tell Jenny what it was. She drove them to county jail, and though she took them inside, she did not go into the room where they would meet Mama.

They entered the stone building through a sally port, a small space secured on either side by a locked gate. When they had passed through the first gate they stood in a locked cage until the other gate was opened for them.

They were led through an echoing room to another locked gate, and through it to an inner garden with barred windows looking into it. There was one more locked gate, a concrete hall, and a flight of steps leading down into the visitors’ room. Then they were told to sit on stools before a long table that was divided down the middle with a heavy sheet of glass.

Four women in prison gray were sitting at the table on the other side of the glass. Each had a visitor who faced her through the glass and talked to her on a telephone.

Mama was led out. She sat facing them. Her hair had not been bleached for a long time, the roots were black. She looked sullen. The glass reflected lights and shapes across her face as if she were under water. But her scowl was real enough. She picked up the phone and sat glaring at Jenny. Jenny said, “Hello, Mama.”

Mama pushed her hair up in back and examined her fingernails. “I’m surprised you’d come see me at all after walking out on Lud.” It sounded strange to hear Mama’s voice on the phone when she was right in front of them. “And where’d Crystal run off to? Them cops said she went to Mexico. I don’t believe that. Unless they scared her away, snooping. Why didn’t you come with Lud like I told you?”

“I don’t know, Mama.” Jenny said helplessly. “The police will find Crystal.”

“I hope not,” Mama growled. “Them dirty cops, picking me up. I was gonna come back for the trial. They said I jumped bail. Did you bring me any cigarettes?”

“No, Mama.”

“Lud’s gone and they won’t let me have my children; they won’t let me out to take care of my children and hunt for my little girl. Crystal would be home if I were out of here.” Mama began to cry.

Jenny said, “We miss you, Mama. But we’ll be all right until you can take care of us again.” She felt like a hypocrite.

Mama sighed, “It’s terrible in here, terrible. The food’s all starches and gravy, and the cells are so crowded they have mattresses on the floor, you can’t hardly sleep for women talking and shouting and carrying on. And they play the television all the time. It’s enough to drive you crazy.”

“What television, Mama?” Jenny said.

“The one in the cell, all the cells have ’em.”

“Have they sentenced you yet, Mama?”

Mama glared at her. “Ninety days,” almost spitting the words out. “Ninety lousy days.”

“Mama, when you get out, what are you going to do?”

There was a long silence. Then Mama said, “We’ll get an apartment just like we always have. What did you expect?”

“Where are we going to live? Will we stay in one place, and not move from town to town?”

“Well, I can’t tell so far away, Jenny. What are you getting at?”

“Mama—” Jenny looked pale. “Mama, I want to settle down in one place. I want us to rent a house and stay in it until Bingo is through school.”

“That’s a long time.” Mama blurted. “You can’t expect—” She was looking at Jenny as if she didn’t know her.

“Mama. Please listen. We don’t—Bingo and I don’t want to run any more. It isn’t good for Bingo, and it isn’t good for me. We want you to look after us, Mama. But in one place.”

“How do you know what’s good for you, you’re only a child!” Mama shouted so loud the phone crackled.

Jenny held herself very straight and said slowly, “If you want us, Mama, you will rent a house in this city and get a job. Otherwise we won’t live with you any more.”

There was a short, terrible silence. Jenny could feel the anger flare in Mama like water rising to surge over a dam.

“You’re getting pretty big for your britches, missy, when you start planning my life.” Mama stared coldly at Jenny, then motioned for the matron and got up.

When Mama had gone, Jenny turned around on her stool so her back was to the glass and stared straight ahead of her. Tears were streaming down her face.

She was ashamed to go back to the car because the tears wouldn’t stop. Bingo didn’t know what to do, so he went ahead. Jenny came trudging after, but soon she had to catch up to be taken through the locked gate where Mrs. Dermody waited for them.

Mrs. Dermody didn’t say anything. She dug a handkerchief out of her purse and handed it to Jenny. Then later when they were on the freeway she said, “We’re going to have lunch in the city. I have you checked out for the rest of the day.” The sun was so bright it made Jenny’s salt-washed eyes sting. Everything was bright with sun, the rooftops glinted.

Finally the tears subsided. “I don’t know what I was crying about. It’s stupid to cry.”

Bingo just looked at her, and nodded.

When they were off the freeway and winding through slow town traffic, a siren blared behind them and a red light flashed. Mrs. Dermody looked startled, then pulled to the curb.

The patrol car parked behind them. A tall, tough-looking policeman got out and came toward them. Mrs. Dermody turned to look back at him, then she laughed. “What did I do?”

He frowned. “Lady, you just volunteered.”

“What for?”

“To take a cop to lunch.”

“Well, follow me, Officer. But don’t get lost in the traffic.”

“Smarty,” he growled, and went back to his patrol car.

“Who was that?” Bingo said, unable to contain himself.

“That was Sergeant Dermody.” She laughed. “He is my husband.”

Jenny laughed, trying to wipe the tear streaks from her face at the same time. She blew her nose and combed her hair. There’s no point in crying, she told herself. You did the right thing. Now shut up about it.

The restaurant was decorated like the gay nineties. It had red velvet walls with groups of old-fashioned photographs, and ornate gaslights. The boys who waited tables all wore boater hats, and garters over their white shirt sleeves.

As soon as they had squeezed into the booth, Jenny and Bingo were possessed by a fit of bashful discomfort. Perhaps it was Sergeant Dermody’s uniform that made them shy. Bingo wiggled in his seat and studied the menu, but he had already decided on a hamburger. Jenny smiled hesitatingly at Sergeant Dermody, but when he winked at her she felt more tongue-tied than before. Maybe it was the way he looked at a person.

After the waiter took their orders, Sergeant Dermody said quietly, “Your mother all right?”

They nodded.

“How long did she get?”

“Three months,” Jenny said. “She looked—she said it was awful in jail. Is that true?”

“It’s not bad. The inmates are treated fairly, if they behave themselves. The food’s good, I eat lunch there a couple of times a week.”

Then the hamburgers came and they were occupied with spreading mustard and layering on pickles and onions. When Sergeant Dermody had his fixed to his satisfaction he shoved the onions away and said, “Georgie, have you asked them?”

She shook her head briefly. Her eyes held Jenny and Bingo. “Now, please take time to consider this, and be honest about it. Would you two like to live at our house until your mother gets out? We have a big house. There were five children growing up, but they’re all gone now, married or in college, except Ben. We have lots of room. You’d have rooms of your own, some chores to do around the house. The schools are close. You could help us fill up the house. We’d like having you, and you’d be a help with the housework, Jenny, now that I’m starting a new book.” She was talking easily and quietly, to give them time to think.

Jenny wanted to shout, Yes! But she couldn’t. She stared absently at the four french fries on the plate.

Sergeant Dermody said, “Georgie can pack you up and have you home by dinnertime, if you’re willing. Or you can wait a few days if you want time to consider.”

“I’m willing!” Bingo shouted, before they could change their minds.

“I’d love it,” Jenny said slowly, “only—”

“Only what?” Georgie asked.

“Only—” Her face was hot with embarrassment, and when she spoke her voice was small, “Only—is it like charity?”

Sergeant Dermody picked up the check and put on his cap. He came around to Jenny’s side of the table and put a hand on her shoulder. “No,” he said. “It isn’t. The county pays for you whether you’re in J.D.H. or with us. I’ll expect to see you at dinner.”