by Anna Oney
All this time, Emma thought, I believed I was a good person . . . but I was wrong.
Chapter 24:
Emma
For the remainder of the night, Emma drifted in and out of sleep. After hours of tossing and turning, she surrendered to the restless state and decided to get dressed. After what had transpired between her and Tom, Emma was ashamed to face the mirror to check for the usual bumps in her hair. When she heard three small knocks at the door, followed by a couple of scratches, Emma knew it was the girls coming to see her off.
Donning a fake smile, she opened the door to welcome them in, but before she could say good morning, all three of them were wrapped around her. Claire clung to her legs and Lizzie to her torso. Jane, the tallest of the three, nearly choked her to death.
Raising her chin from Jane's neck, Emma spotted Darby and Stella standing in the doorway. As the blue-haired woman's eyes swelled with tears, she cleared her throat, signaling for them to wrap it up.
Emma donned her pack and fetched her rifle, and they headed out the front door toward her childhood home. The morning dew had just begun sticking to the tall grass. By the time they reached the back of the house, the legs of Emma's overalls were damp.
Expecting her parents to be in bed, the group entered without knocking. Giving them some much-needed privacy, Darby grabbed Stella by the collar and promptly ushered the girls to the playroom without Emma having to ask.
Before reaching her parents' room, Emma found herself staring at Griffin's second-grade picture hanging from the wall. He'd been so young then. A troublemaker, but who wasn't at that age? The picture had been taken before he got braces, and his front teeth were spaced apart. He wore a navy-blue shirt with the collar popped. Back then, Griffin had pulled up the collar on all of his shirts. On picture day, whomever Griffin's teacher was at the time would fix it before his turn. But he would always switch it back before the expected flash of the photographer's camera.
Replaying the memory in her mind, Emma reached out to him, and thought, I'm coming, Griffin. Don't worry, and knocked on her parents' bedroom door. When Emma heard them tell her to come on in, she knew the coast was clear and they were both fully dressed.
On the tips of her parents' noses sat their half-moon reading glasses. Ripley panted heavily at their feet, shaking the bed. Glancing from their novels, Shirley and Doolie set their books to the side and gently patted the space between them.
"You want to lie down, baby doll?" Doolie asked.
Smiling in response, Emma crawled into their bed just the same as she did when she was a child, and struggled to ease herself between them.
"We're too big to still be doing this." She laughed, situating herself. "Don't y'all think?"
In response, Shirley cried, "I just don't want to let you go!"
The man sniffling to Emma's right pulled her to his bare, hairy chest, and wept.
"Me . . . me either."
"I'll be fine. Really, I will. Don't worry."
Straightening up, Doolie brushed off the sudden wave of emotion, and asked, "Where's Tom?"
Emma had never been the type of girl to lie to her parents. Lying simply wasn't permitted among their clan of hard workers and misfits, but she did so all the same. "He's waiting at the barrier."
"We set the stuff you asked for on the kitchen table."
"Thanks, Momma." Emma paused, taking her hand. "I promise I'll be careful."
"About Pete," Doolie said, "I know we decided on bringing him back, too. But when the time comes, if it ain't possible, don't go for it. All right?"
"Okay."
"You seem a little on edge," Shirley said. "Your hand hasn't stopped shaking since you walked through that door."
"Just nerves. They'll calm down once I'm on my way."
"I wish I had some of my crazy pills left." She frowned. "I'd sure give you one."
"Shirley," Doolie said, "she don't need that shit."
"Easy!" Emma exclaimed, trying to prevent a fight. "This was s'posed to be a calm farewell."
"It was, until your father snapped at me."
"I'm aware, Momma." Emma sighed. "I'm aware. Now, before I depart, is there anything else y'all want to say?"
"Remember what I said about inflicting the same da—"
"Daddy," Emma interrupted, "like I said, I'll do whatever I believe is necessary. You're just gonna have to be satisfied with that."
"I am satisfied, darling. I'm proud of you."
"Then I'm on my way."
Embracing them, Emma allowed hers and their last-minute tears to flow. As she headed toward the door, Doolie interjected, "Hey, baby?" Emma halted in her tracks. As Emma turned to face them, he continued, "When you find your brother, tell him we love him, will you?"
"I will, Daddy. I will."
Leaving them, Emma moved on to her next destination: the playroom. Peeking through the crack in the door, Emma spotted Jane resting on a beanbag, reading a book. In the corner, Lizzie and Claire were busy dressing their dolls. Darby busied herself with picking up building blocks and placing them back in their designated cardboard box.
Emma stepped inside, and then gathered the girls in a circle, while Darby stood behind them. Shockingly, they did so without protest. Then she knelt before them.
Lizzie was the first to speak.
"It's time for you to go now, isn't it?"
"Yes, baby, it is."
"I don't want you to go!" Claire cried.
"I know you don't, sweetie, but I'll only be gone for a few days." Emma brought all of the girls' hands together, and she covered them with hers. "I love you girls very much. I love you as much as I would love my own babies. For as long as I'm away, never forget that."
"Don't worry," Jane said, wiping away a drifting tear. "We . . . we believe you."
Claire jumped on top of Emma, and buried her weeping face into her caretaker's shoulder.
"I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you, too." Emma cried, and the other two joined in. Falling backward, Emma lay flat on her back as each of them wept.
"We love you."
Seeming to realize the attention wasn't on her, Stella jumped on top of the girls, making her the centerpiece of the pyramid. Once again, the pit bull stood proud as the master of attention, as they all had a good laugh.
Emma bid them one last farewell, and kissed each of their foreheads.
"Remember to be nice to one another and say your prayers," she whispered.
"We will," Jane replied.
"Could you throw a couple of them my way? I'd really appreciate it."
"Yes ma'am." Lizzie sniffled.
Detaching from the sisters, Emma stood and looked to Darby.
"I'll walk you out," her blue-haired friend said, tearing up again. "C'mon."
Leaving the girls to their games, the two women entered the kitchen, where the rest of Emma's supplies waited for her. The bullets and wire Emma had requested were there, but what held her attention was a new addition to the pile. They had melted the end of a dinner candle, gluing it to the bottom of the inside of a mason jar. They'd connected string to the top to construct a handle. For Emma's journey, they'd made her a flashlight from scratch.
"We're running low on fuel for the lanterns, so we thought this'd help you when you're out there," Darby said, handing over three extra candles. "Made them last night. Did a little arts and crafts, apocalypse-style."
"Did you now?" Emma chuckled, fastening the jar to the side of her pack. "How'd that go?"
"Ehhh."
"That good, huh? Well, thank you."
As soon as the supplies were packed, the situation went from warm little girls' farewells to a best friend's goodbye. Clinging to her, Darby said, "You be careful out there. Stay clear of strangers."
"I will," Emma replied, stroking her friend's back. As they parted, Emma slung her rifle over her shoulder, and made sure the spear tip was secure in its sheath.
Darby sighed, wiping her nose.
"What if a
certain person, in particular, starts to notice you're gone? What should I tell him?"
"Maddox and the boys are off on one of their hunting escapades, so just tell him I went to join them." Emma paused, buckling the straps of the pack. "That should cover the days I'll be gone. They usually stay out for that long."
"You sure he'll buy it?"
"No doubt." He'll believe I didn't want to see his face for a few days.
"Look, I don't want you to leave thinking I'm mad at you," she said. "If I didn't say those things last night, I wouldn't have been being a good friend to you."
"I've already done forgot about it."
"So we cool?" Darby replied.
"We cool, my friend."
"Cool, cool, cool. Good, so now that the air is cleared"—she nudged Emma's shoulder— "I guess it's about that time you're on your way."
Before Emma could open the door completely, Stella pushed her way through. As Emma stepped outside, sounds of the girls' roughhousing and giggling from the back room reached her ears. Looking to her friend, Emma said, "I hope they don't cause you too much grief."
Grinning back at her, Darby replied, "They won't; I scare them."
"Love you, my friend."
"Love you more. Come back to us."
***
It was difficult for Emma not to look back as she and Stella parted from the safety of her childhood home. By the time they reached the barrier, the sun had just begun waking itself. The morning sunlight pierced through the thick clouds and warmed Emma's hand as she unlocked the gate.
Stepping through the barrier, Emma felt as though they were embarking on a great adventure, one that would make her family whole again. She locked the gate, and patted Stella's head.
"We can do this, girl. We will do this. We're gonna bring Griffin home."
As the first steps of their journey were taken, Emma realized she'd spent most of her adolescence keeping to the clear path laid before her. Never would she risk fouling the family name. So naturally, rarely did Emma go astray. But for now, she had one mission . . . and on that mission she went.
Part II:
Innocence Lost
Chapter 25:
Emma
Their first day alone in the wilderness was uneventful. At times, Emma found it boring. During the twelve miles they traveled, they took four fifteen-minute breaks to rest their aching feet.
After hours of continuous travel, Emma and Stella agreed on a stopping point next to the winding creek. The water flowed steadily to their right, and a large hickory tree stood to their left. Placing her sleeping mat beside the tree, Emma laid her blanket neatly on top. She began tucking the excess of material beneath and couldn't help but laugh as she realized she was making the bed.
Disheveling the blanket, Emma shook her head in amusement.
"There. Now it looks the way it should, don't it?" she asked Stella. "I mean, we're in the wild, for goodness' sake."
Knowing they were miles from the nearest road, Emma felt safe to build a small fire. Using flint to start a fire had never been one of Emma's strong points. It took her ten tries before she conjured a spark big enough to ignite the brush. Afterward, Emma had simply tied some of the line to the end of a sturdy stick. For bait, she'd snagged a few unfortunate crickets, waited patiently for a tug at her line, and caught a couple of fish for their supper. The small hooks her cousin had kept an excess of were the perfect size for the small-mouthed fish that dwelled in these waters.
The fish was bland, but that was to be expected, though Stella gobbled up her share without blinking an eye.
It was a breezy night. The smoke from the small fire kept the mosquitoes and june bugs at bay, but the locusts seemed to find it humorous to harass Stella during her sleep. She paid them back in full by chewing them up and spitting them out. Sometimes she swallowed them whole, but Emma lost count after the sixth.
Lying comfortably, Emma watched the sparks from the fire float into air. Every time one of them disappeared into the night sky, it tempted Emma to close her eyes. As the fifth flurry vanished from sight, her eyes finally gave in.
The next morning, the soothing sounds of the creek caused Emma to sleep way past the rising of the sun. Despite Stella constantly nibbling at her ear, Emma stayed comfortably content. Only a day's walk had made her this tired, and Emma had probably four more to go. With that in mind, she finally decided to give in to Stella's annoying cries and slowly dragged her whooped tail from bed.
As Emma's head emerged from under the blanket, Stella darted toward her and nearly knocked her back down. "Stella!" Emma scolded as she groggily gathered their supplies.
Rolling up the sleeping mat, Emma's stomach began to growl. Seeming to notice her striding toward the water's current, Stella ran over to see their catch of the day. They only caught one bream. The disappointment wasn't only written upon Emma's face, but on Stella's as well.
Sniffing the fish, Stella cut her eyes toward Emma as if asking, "Is that all?"
"We still have another cricket," Emma said. "Maybe that one will call some fish home."
The second dip into the water wasn't as providing as the first. A small turtle latched itself to the hook before Emma could snatch the line in the opposite direction. As Emma struggled to free the turtle, Stella made continuous glances from the squirming animal to Emma's face, seemingly hoping to be allowed to torture the poor thing. The possibility of extracting the hook with the turtle's life intact evaporated, so Emma was forced to put it out of its misery.
Emma tossed her dog the remains, and they quickly became her breakfast.
"Poor turtle," Emma whispered as Stella savagely dissected her prize. "That's unfortunate."
After Emma doctored their fire from the night before, it gave off enough heat to cook the fish through. Stella ingested the parts of the turtle that were edible, and when finished, she tried stealing the fish from the metal plate Emma roasted it on.
"Back off! Get back!" Much like a child who refused to mind, Stella sometimes needed a good spanking. After Emma acknowledged that her pit bull was her only friend out there, she gave in. Along with the guts of the fish, Emma gave Stella the head and tail so she'd forgive Emma for lashing out at her.
After stomping out the flames, Emma approached the creek to refill her canteen and noticed the same footprints that had followed her for months. They trailed from the creek to the ashes of the fire. Since the footprints weren't anything new, Emma decided to keep pushing forward without concerning herself with them. If they were something to worry about, she thought, whoever they belonged to would've shown themselves by now.
Emma situated her pack over her shoulders, and waved for her dog to follow, and as they went, so did the footprints—though Stella seemed to avoid stepping in the same spot as their invisible stranger.
"Good grief," Emma said as Stella sniffed. "Settle that investigative nose down."
The day was a clear and beautiful one. It wasn't muggy, so Emma didn't need to remove some of her layers of clothing. As they traveled, Stella stayed a few strides ahead of Emma. Watching Stella's bow-legged speed-walk was quite amusing. Whenever she walked in a fast pace, the pit bull looked as though she were trying to make a statement. If Stella were able to speak, Emma imagined she would say, "Yeah, I'm going somewhere. You coming?"
They walked along the creek for hours until coming to a large opening. Doolie referred to this area as The Highline, which marked the end of their property. What lay ahead was completely unknown to her. It would be easier and quicker to find the nearest road, but not the safest. People would be more likely to take the road, and Emma had sworn to stay clear of it.
With Stella by her side, Emma turned to take one last look at their woods. Please, Lord, she silently prayed, hoping the other side of this long stretch of land would be as kind as theirs had been. The clearing was about half a mile wide. Emma found this concerning. If there were people lurking on the opposite side, they could easily set a trap for one unlucky soul.
Stowing the binoculars inside their designated pocket, Emma noticed the indentions from her invisible companion's knees. "What the hell?" she whispered, baffled. "You're kneeling now?"
On her feet, Emma brushed off her concerns and began moving forward. The Highline was littered with holes from animals that roamed the area. A sprained ankle wasn't something Emma needed on her journey, so she moved more slowly to prevent it from happening.
Halfway across, she came to a small hill. It took no time to climb over, but Emma was stalled by what she found when making it to a flat surface. The remains of a small fire producing a thin layer of smoke fogged the area.
"Shit."
Instead of the remains of the fire holding her attention, Emma realized too late that the tree line would be the perfect area to build a deer stand. An effective stand would be in one of the trees in front of them.
Emma practically jumped over the hill behind her. Quickly, Stella seemed to catch on, and was by Emma's side as soon as she slung the rifle from her shoulder. It wasn't until the fourth right-to-left scan that the sun finally broke through the trees behind her, shining onto a dwelling to her right. It became visible because of the light reflecting off the scope of a gun pointed in Emma's direction.
With the cover of the hill, Emma was able to keep a firm grip on Stella's collar while attempting to aim the rifle, but holding her down was like trying to keep two toddlers from enjoying their new toys—impossible.
Aiming a weapon at a person with intentions to kill proved to be more difficult for Emma than aiming at an animal. Besides that, doing so with only one free hand made it nearly unfeasible. Whomever they were, they were the one with the advantage. They had the high ground. When they fired the first shot, Emma didn't move a muscle. The thought of shouting out that she didn't mean them any harm left her quickly as they fired another.