Samantha's Gift

“Yes, ma’am. We can go talk in my room. I just have to take care of—”

“I’m not going anyplace where you can make excuses in private,” the woman said. “I want to know, right here and right now, where you get off telling my son that there are angels in his classroom?”

“What?” Rachel was totally confused.

“Angels. He says there are guardian angels flying all over the kindergarten room.”

“I never told him that.”

“Well, somebody sure did.”

“Maybe one of the other children.” A light went on in Rachel’s head. Of course! Samantha hadn’t been pretending to be a bird when she’d comforted Jimmy, she’d been demonstrating her ideas about angels! How sweet.

Rachel nodded, convinced of her conclusions. “I think I know what happened to confuse your son. Children have wonderful imaginations. One of the girls must have told him about angels this morning while she was helping him blow his nose.”

Mrs. Andrews wasn’t placated. “Well, what if she did? You’re the teacher. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing. No harm’s been done,” she said calmly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go hold the buses until I can be sure one of my students is on the right one.”

“Well! I never…”

The woman was still muttering to herself when Rachel brushed past and headed for the curb. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

The buses were already gone!

After a hurried search of the hallways and her own classroom, Rachel returned to the office, gave in and telephoned Heatherington’s office.

When she hung up, Mary asked, “Well?”

“Samantha’s living with the Brodys on Squirrel Hill Road. I saw her get on bus number seven. I think she belonged on five.” Rachel began pacing. “It’s my fault. I should have kept her with me until I knew for sure.”

“She’ll be okay. Surely, the driver will notice and… Oh-oh. Seven, did you say?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Because we have a sub driving that one this afternoon.”

“Don’t tell me. Let me guess. Sean Bates is driving seven, right?”

“No, Maxwell Eades is.” Mary frowned. “Why would you think it was Sean Bates?”

“Because Samantha knows Sean. I figured she’d choose that bus if she saw him behind the wheel.”

“Nope. Sorry. We can’t use Bates until he gets an Arkansas license. Mr. Vanbruger did suggest he ride along to familiarize himself with the routes, though. He could have decided to start with any of them.”

“Give me maps of all the routes,” Rachel ordered. “Then please get on the phone and alert some of the parents who live along seven. Ask them to tell Max to keep Samantha from getting off.”

Mary handed her copies of hand-drawn maps. “Gotcha. What are you going to do?”

“Jump in my car and try to catch the bus before that poor kid gets herself totally lost.”

“Isn’t that above and beyond the call of duty?”

“Not for me it isn’t. And definitely not where Samantha Smith is concerned. The minute I saw her I knew I was meant to look after her. So far I haven’t done a very good job of it. From now on, I intend to do a lot better.”

Rachel was familiar with the rural area where the Brody family lived, but since Samantha’s bus wasn’t headed that way, the knowledge was no help. The only sensible thing to do was trace the bus route, mile by mile, until she overtook number seven.

And what if Samantha’s already gotten off before I catch up to her? Rachel’s heart sped. Or what if she changed buses at school while I was stuck in the office?

Stomach in knots, Rachel tightened her grip on the wheel of her compact car, sweating in spite of the airconditioning. She mustn’t think such negative thoughts. They only made everything seem worse.

Prayer would be a much better choice, yet she was unable to force her worried mind to concentrate enough to come up with a lucid plea. Finally, she resorted to a misty-eyed Please, God, and left it at that.

She made good time until she turned off the highway onto the narrow, winding road that ran between Glencoe and Heart. According to old-timers, Heart had once been a thriving little town. It had even had its own post office inside a mom-and-pop grocery store. For decades, that had been a favorite local gathering place, especially on Friday nights when weekly paychecks needed to be cashed. Now, however, Heart consisted of a couple of isolated houses and a community center building that was used mainly on Wednesdays by a quilting club.

This was Tuesday. If Samantha got off the school bus in Heart, she wouldn’t meet a soul who could help her.

Rachel chewed on her lower lip. “Calm down. Stop imagining the worst. You’ll find her.”

Head spinning, thoughts churning, Rachel pictured possible scenarios. If Samantha truly had boarded that particular bus because Sean was on it, she’d want to stay near him. She wouldn’t be likely to get off at all! Then again, if she hadn’t…

The pavement ended abruptly. Rachel slowed and pulled over in front of the Heart Community Center to double-check her map. She frowned. She’d seen kindergartners draw clearer diagrams.

The building sat in a rocky, dusty triangle at the confluence of the roads. One track was supposed to lead to Saddle, one to Salem with a cutoff to Camp, and the other to Agnos. Bus seven should be headed for Camp, which meant the first thing she needed to find was the branch of the road that led toward Salem.

She peered west. That one. It had to be that one. She could see the red lights flashing on the radio station antennae atop the hill called the Salem Knob.

Decision made, Rachel tromped the accelerator. Her car’s wheels spun in the loose gravel and dirt, leaving behind a cloud of powdery red dust. It was a blessing that Max was driving the bus, because he knew where he was going. She’d lived around here all her life and she still sometimes got turned around when she left the highway. An inexperienced person like Sean, using the same map she’d been given, would be likely to get lost.

Seeing more dust ahead was encouraging. Rachel cautiously increased her speed. She didn’t want to go too fast. The roads had recently been scraped by county graders, making the center smoother but uncovering and scattering enough sharp rocks to make driving more hazardous than usual. Previous vehicles had left tracks in passing; Rachel tried to keep her tires in those same ruts to avoid unnecessary risk.

Rounding a corner she came upon a sight that made her heart pound. Bus seven! Now, all she had to do was get it to pull over so she could be certain Samantha was still safely aboard.

Approaching the slow-moving bus she flashed her lights and honked. Small faces peered out the bus’s rear windows at her, grinning and waving. She signaled as best she could, but the children apparently thought she was merely being friendly because they returned her greeting with renewed vigor.

According to the map, it was miles before the next bus stop. Rachel was too frustrated to wait that long to learn Samantha’s fate, yet it was unsafe to pass the lumbering bus on such a treacherous road.

“Give me patience, Lord, and hurry,” she muttered, laughing at the contradiction. God is in charge, God is in charge, she reminded herself.

Finally, she laid on the horn and held it. That worked. Max pulled the bus over. Rachel stopped behind it, jumped out and was immediately enveloped in a noxious cloud of exhaust fumes and unsettled dust.

Ignoring the discomfort, she forged ahead, waving her arms wildly, and circled to the front of the bus. Max had already opened the folding doors.

Sean was standing on the top step, steadying himself by holding on to a chrome support pole. He wasn’t smiling. “Are you nuts?”

“Yes.” Rachel coughed as she boarded and pushed him aside. “Where’s Samantha?”

“Right there.” He pointed. “Mind telling me what’s going on? Or do you always drive like a maniac?”