That Necklace Was Everything to Me

 

 

“I have to go back,” I said, tears already stinging the corners of my eyes.

 

“No Ma'am,” Ella Mae said. “We need to get going or we'll be waiting in this lot forever.”

 

“I dropped something important. I can't leave without it.”

 

My eyes pleaded with Ella Mae and she took pity on me. “Be quick, alright?”

 

I ran back to the stadium, going over every step we'd taken throughout the night. The bleachers. The field. The concession stand. My necklace wasn't anywhere. I needed more time.

 

“Dammit,” I said. I kicked the wooden light post hard. A sharp pain ran through my big toe and tears rolled down my cheeks. That necklace was too important. I couldn't lose it now, after all these years.

 

“What did you lose,” Agnes asked, coming around the corner to join me.

 

“My mother's necklace.” I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand and sniffed. I was acting like a baby, but that necklace was everything to me.

 

“Oh no, Harper. I'm so sorry. Was it expensive?”

 

“No, it's not like that. It's not about money. That pendant was the only thing of my mother's I'd ever owned. I never knew my mother,” I said. “She gave me up for adoption when I was a baby. My parents gave me that necklace the day they told me I was adopted. They said my mother wanted me to have it. It's completely irreplaceable.”

 

Agnes touched my arm. I saw genuine sympathy in her eyes. “That sucks,” she said. “I'm sorry but Ella Mae asked me to come get you. I don't think she's going to wait much longer.” I knew I couldn't afford to make Ella Mae angry. One bad report to my case manager could land me in kid-prison if I wasn't careful.

 

“Maybe you can come back and look for it on Monday,” she said.

 

I swiped at my tears again, then followed Agnes back to the van.

 

“Did you find it?” Ella Mae asked.

 

I shook my head and climbed into the van. I didn't say another word the entire way home.

 

Later, once everyone was in bed, I tried to fall asleep. I really did, but there was no use. I couldn't stand the thought of someone else picking up that sapphire pendant, and I definitely couldn't stand the idea of it sitting there in the dirt with people's gum wrappers and coke cans. What if someone stepped on the stone and broke it?

 

I tossed and turned, unable to let it go. I only had this one piece of my mother. It was the only thing important enough for her to want me to have it. I needed to get it back.

 

Quietly, I got out of bed and tiptoed to my door. I slowly turned the brass handle, but as I suspected, the door was locked. I cursed through gritted teeth. Agnes was wrong about the doors. Why were they locking us in our rooms at night? And it wasn't every night. Only sometimes. I'd checked. Were they afraid we would have secret meetings or sneak out to meet boys?

 

Granted, sneaking out was exactly what I was trying to do, but a simple locked door wasn't about to stop me. I looked around for something I could use to turn the lock inside the keyhole. On my dressing table, I had a bag of bobby pins. I took one out, straightened it, and pulled off the little rubber tip.

 

Crouching down, I inserted the bobby pin into the hole, going by feel until I was able to slowly turn the lock mechanism inside the door. It only took me a few minutes of trying until I heard the distinct click that released the lock.

 

The dark hallway outside my bedroom door was silent as a tomb. The gentle whoosh of air conditioning was the only sound. I stepped lightly down onto the top step and winced as it creaked beneath my sneakers. Frozen, I didn't make a single move until I was sure no one had heard me.

 

Slowly, I made my way down the stairs and out the front door.

 

Once outside, I searched for a way to get into town. Starting up the Shadowford van would be way too loud. Plus, someone might see me. It was just too risky. What I needed was a bicycle. And there was only one place I could think to look.

 

The barn.

 

I made my way to the back of the house, mindful of every noise that rose above the steady song of crickets in the Georgia night. The motion sensor light above the barn door clicked on as I approached, and I hurried through the lit circle.

 

The door was tough to open, but I finally managed to crack it enough to squeeze inside. I couldn't see much beyond a huge spider web right in the entrance, but it was clear the building was bigger than I first realized. A couple of cars by the far wall were covered up with off-white tarps. A pegboard wall held carefully organized tools. Hammers, wrenches, a hand axe. Then, against the wall near the back, I saw the silhouette of a bicycle.