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“I see. Well, thank you for calling.”
She sounds calmer than before, even though I’m sure this must be the strangest thing that’s ever happened to her. And, the scariest. Imagine a stranger calling to tell you that your child was in an accident and she can’t speak for herself. Scary stuff.
“Oh and Isabel asked if you’d kindly call Vanessa and tell her about this? We’re sure she’s also worried sick.”
“Of course.”
“Well, we need to put her to rest now.”
“I’ll call tomorrow,” she reminded me.
“I expect you to,” I reply cordially. “Good day.”
“Good bye,” she replies and I hang up the phone.
‘Well, it’s a good thing that we had signal, otherwise we’d have to - “
When I lift my eyes, I see large tears rolling down her face, getting soaked up by the bandages. She cries silently, her eyes closed. There is no sobbing, no wailing, not even sniffling. She cries like a dignified princess. Hell, she even takes a beating like one, too. I quickly look around, but there’s nothing to dry her tears with.
“Hey,” I lean over the table. “You’ll feel better after you take a nice shower. I promise.”
She looks up. Her eyes are gleaming, but not in a way when you see a bride. Hers would sparkle with happiness. Isabel’s eyes are closed windows and I can’t see through them. She’s barred any entrance. She is keeping her pain inside, but her gentleness shines through, no matter how hard she is trying to hide it. I can see the betrayed poet in her, the artful dreamer who still believes, despite everything that just happened. As she looks at me, her tears dry out. She glances down at herself and the realization of her dirty, torn self seems to hit her now like a ton of bricks.
“Come on,” I stand up first, offer her my hand. “I’ll take you to the showers and Theron will get you some towels and a fresh set of clothes. You’ll feel like a whole new person after it.”
She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes can never be silent. They sing a song of freedom, of never being caged, no matter what. Noiselessly, I hear the song and I recognize the words. I’d just add some Billy Idol background music and we’d be good to go.
Chapter 10
I feel the hot water run down my body in thin strips, taking away all the dirt, all the pain, all the hurt of the previous several days. I want to lift my head up to the makeshift shower head and the sun that shines behind it right at me, but I can’t move my neck and face in that direction. So, I just stare forward, my eyes closed, making sure not to moisten the bandages. Occasionally, I glance around me. I’m hidden from plain view by four large wooden boards, one serving as a door that is simply pushed open. There is no key. Therefore, there is no complete privacy, either. But I believed Dex when he told me that I could stay here as long as I wanted and be sure that no one would interrupt me.
The last few days have questioned my notions of trust. I don’t know any of these men. And, that’s the worst, the scariest part. They’re all men. I haven’t seen a single girl here and it freaks me out. From the explanation I got, I understand this is some kind of a fly by station. These guys are a biker gang and they occasionally stop here, for a few weeks, to rest, unwind, whatever. Then, they continue. But, continue what? Do they have jobs? I doubt it. Bikers just ride. Right? It’s a one-sided conversation I’m having with myself, but it calms me down. At least, I can trust myself, with my limited understanding of the world I found myself in.
So far, these guys have proven to be on my side. I’ve only had contact with two of them. Theron is the kind of guy my mom would love to see me with. He almost made me smile a few times, if that was possible with this thing on my face. And Dex… well, that guy would be Vanessa’s choice. She always liked them a bit rough around the edges.
Not wanting to use up all the hot water, I switch it off. I look down and see several bruises on my elbows, knees and to the side of my hip. They’re still fresh and bright purple. They don’t really hurt. It’s on the inside that’s painful. These outside bruises will heal fast enough. I push the door open and peer outside. There’s no one there. Then, to the right, I see a chair and on it, there’s a big green towel, folded neatly. Underneath it, I see some clothes, but I can’t recognize exactly what they are, as they’re folded as well.
I grab the towel and quickly close the door. I wipe my body slowly, every tap and rub against my skin reminding me of the ordeal I just passed and the fate that could have befallen me, if I weren’t this lucky. I try not to cry, because now, there is no reason to anymore. I’m saved. I’ll be going home soon and I can start forgetting all about this.
I peer out again and grab the clothes. It’s a red, checkered shirt which looks one size too big, but it doesn’t look half bad. There’s also a pair of pants there and surprisingly, they fit like a charm. I braid my wet hair and just leave it like that. Now, it’s time to open the door again and go back to that shack. Dex brought me here and showed me the way back. I was sure I’d memorized it.
I get out of the makeshift shower stall and find myself outside. The sun is shining brightly, oblivious to my pain. I welcome its warm rays and somehow, for a brief moment, I can forget where I am. But the harsh pinecone fragrance reminds me I’m far away from the city. Far, far away. I look to my left and see a familiar path. About two minutes later, I find myself in the same shack I woke up in and I see a face that I will never forget.
Theron is sitting on a chair and the moment I enter, his eyes focus on me. He looks like a lost soul and I know exactly how that feels. When I look around, I feel like a sailor who’s lost sight of land ages ago. Home is so far away that it’s almost forgotten. I take a few steps towards him and he doesn’t say anything. I walk on trembling legs, even though the shower really refreshed me. It helped wash away all the shame, all the hurt and now, I can start rebuilding myself on the little that is left. Silently, I walk over to the bookshelf and I skim through the titles. I’m trying to find something I thought I saw, but I’m not sure I can trust my memories anymore. It could have been just a dream. I use my finger to read the vertically aligned titles, tilting my head a little. I hear him getting up, but I don’t turn around.
A moment later, he is behind me. I still don’t see him. I don’t smell him. I don’t see his shadow. There is no indication of his presence behind me other than my own inner feeling. I don’t move. My heart starts beating faster, but it’s not out of fear.
“Are you looking for anything in particular?” he asks, his voice reaching me from behind, like winds to a sail.
I turn to him and I write out Alice’s name in the air, slowly. He immediately gets it.
“That’s here,” he tells me, stretching his arm right past my shoulder. His skin brushes against the thin fabric of my shirt and I shudder with the promise of a pregnant silence that follows.
I take the book from his hand. It’s been much loved by someone. I wonder if it’s him. The dusty, worn out coat feels flimsy underneath my fingers and I can’t wait to read it again. I walk back to the bed and glance at the window. It’s only starting to get dark and I feel like it’s past midnight. Still, I feel far from Cinderella. If there was ever a time to feel like a book character, this was it. I feel just like Alice, stumbling down the rabbit hole, with no idea what waits for me at the bottom. Will hitting it hurt or will I just float down, like I’m on an invisib
le cloud? There is no wisdom in my soul now, no great knowledge in the form of foreboding or some kind of a sixth sense that women often boast of. I’m left with humbleness, in a soul whose empty pages wait to be filled with meaningful content.
“There’s a little lamp by the bed you can use, if you want to read at night,” he tells me, pointing at a nightstand and a small, dark blue lamp. “Also, if you get cold, there’s another blanket in the closet.”
