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Ten days later.
I haven’t asked Lucy about her choice. I didn’t want her to feel as though I was prying or attempting to change her mind. I just want to be her shoulder if she needs it. As we park, she’s quiet, contemplative. The crowd is larger today than the past couple of times we were here.
I think they’re getting to her. They spewed some horrifically invasive and cruel vitriol at her last appointment, making me wonder how they justify their actions. These people can be downright nasty, especially to the young girls I’ve seen coming and going. The parking lot is empty, though, so I’m hopeful we can get in quickly.
“It’s going to be okay.” I reach over and offer a comforting hand.
“I know,” she whispers, her tears impacting her voice. I can’t imagine how hard things have been for her, and I hate that I don’t always know the right thing to say or do.
Taking her lead, I wait until she gets out of the car before joining her. She stops me before we head towards the building and wraps me in a tight hug. “Thanks for being here for me, Miss Taylor. I don’t know anyone else who would have been as kind and supportive as you have been.”
Tears clog my throat.
“I think, one day, you’re going to be an amazing mom.” Gripping hands, we’re about to take a step when Lucy freezes, her body turning to ice.
“What are you doing with that girl?” a man shouts at us. His eyes zero in on where Lucy is squeezing my hand.
The protestors have yelled at us, thrown things at us, but they’ve never confronted us like this. “We’re just going inside.” I try to keep my voice calm, but even I hear the fear in it.
That fear is garnered by the gun in his hand. Another man approaches, then another, and soon, we’re surrounded, only a few feet between them and us.
“Miss Taylor?” Lucy is vibrating with fear; I squeeze her hand.
“You forcing that girl to get an abortion,mick?” The way he spews the last word, I understand he means it as an insult. “She ain’t your kind. Step away from her.”
With my flaming red hair, bright green eyes, and pale skin, it’s no doubt I’m no relation to Lucy, who is olive-complected and has dark brown hair and chocolate eyes. Doesn’t mean I’m doing what he’s insinuating, though.
“We have an appointment,” I force through a rigid jaw. Wrapping an arm around Lucy, I try pulling her forward, but they won’t allow us to pass. Not wishing to frighten her any more, I whisper down to her, “Let’s come back another time.”
My words set the man off because he starts yelling and raises the gun. Blocking Lucy’s body with mine, we scream when the first bullet fires, the round going wild. But that second one…
That second one hits me in the back of my shoulder. I drop to the ground, fire racing through my blood, then another spears through the side of my gut. Lucy screams again as she stares down at me in horror. Yelling ramps up behind me, but as I stare down at myself, blood pouring from my wounds, my body turns to ice as my ears ring, and before I can say anything else, four more shots blast out.
One hits my hip, throwing me face down into the ground, and three hit Lucy. “Noooo!” I scream…I think I scream. “Lucy?” I cry out as she drops just a few feet in front of me. Her eyes lifeless, her hand outstretched, and a hole in her chest where her heart pumps out her life force before, finally, there’s nothing left.
Dragging myself over to her, ignoring the agony zipping through my body, I pull her under me, securing her away from a world she was too good for. “Lucy.” I cry out her name until darkness takes me under, until my own breathing grows shallow. Until my lungs seize, and for a split second, I see a light. It’s warm and welcoming, and I want to follow it to the end.
CHAPTER2
Magnolia
EIGHT MONTHS LATER.
Turning around as I hear giggling, I point at the two culprits, only a slight twinge of pain in my hip this time. “Care to share?” I wink when they both freeze, fear flashing in their eyes before they cover their mouths to hide their little girl chuckles.
“No, Miss Taylor!” they say in unison but hand me the picture in question.
“Oh lord,” I muse, staring down at the happy couple kissing, ignoring the pang of desire in the region of my heart. “Who is this?” I kneel in front of them.
Kaya answers, “My mommy and daddy.” The girls are both seven and obsessed with love.
“They’re smooching.” Annika puckers her lips together and makes kissing sounds, sending the rest of the kids into a fit of giggles.
When I arrived in Richards Bay, South Africa, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but after a month of learning the kids’ personalities and traits, I’ve come to realize I need them more than they need me. The exchange program I joined after the shooting was an impulse, one I’m eternally grateful I jumped on.
“Okay, okay, back to the lesson.” I clap my hands together to get the attention of the other ten students. Everyone straightens up and gives me their best ‘I’m ready to learn’ faces, which sends me into a fit of laughter.
I think we do laugh more than learn/teach, and it’s opened them up to me more. They confide in me in a way they weren’t able to with their previous teacher. The woman was all business, all the time, from what I’ve been told.
