by Stacey Ritz
Rainie was speechless as she sat motionless on the porch swing. She pulled a blanket from the far end of the bench and wrapped it loosely around her shoulders, still gripping the phone tightly to her ear.
“Rainie?” She paused.
“Yes, Mama?” Rainie answered similar to how Jackson had responded to her today, her voice filled with a mixture of fear, anticipation and sadness.
“I know you’re surprised to hear from me. I know. And the reason I’m really calling is because…because your dad…”
A chill ran down Rainie’s spine.
“Your dad was in a car accident. He passed away.”
Rainie didn’t respond. Instead she focused on the duet of crickets and toads singing around her. She looked up at the stars glittering brightly in the night sky. Sparkles the cat pushed through the cat door making her way from the inside of the house to Rainie’s lap. Animals always knew when you needed them, Rainie thought. She stroked Sparkles black fur without attempting to form a response to her mama’s words.
“I’d like you and Veronica to meet me in Corolla, North Carolina to spread his ashes.” The line went quiet again. “Please Rainie, please don’t say no.”
2
CHAPTER TWO
ALBERT / CAT
Albert was rescued after suffering serious abuse. He’d been seized by police and was in need of immediate veterinary care. After extensive surgeries , Albert lost one of his front legs and one of his hind legs due to the severity of the injuries. Despite all he endured, he learned to trust again and now lives a happy, healthy l ife. He lives with other rescue cats and animals at the farm.
FACT S : A clowder is the name for a group of adult cats. A kindle is the name of a group of kittens born to one mom. Many famous historic figures have loved and adored cats; Abraham Lincoln was one. When Lincoln’s wife, Mary Todd was asked if her husband had any hobbies, she replied, “cats.”
Leaving work wasn’t easy. Leaving the farm meant trusting others to keep things running. It meant worrying about every minute detail while she was away. It wasn’t a matter of mindless paperwork, rather, it was a matter of quality of life. The animals in Rainie’s care were special needs and senior animals. They each had traumatic pasts and often required specific techniques when working with them. Being a work-a-holic was part of what made the temporary leave difficult, but more than that was the concern for the lives that depended on her. Everything had to continue running smoothly. The little things, sitting with Dustin the donkey for an hour each day and knowing how to approach him, teaching him to trust, had to be performed properly if the progress she’d already made was going to continue. The emotional well-being of a living being is as, if not more important than, their physical care. Rainie knew this all too well, and that, coupled with the fact that she’d never once left the farm for more than a few hours, perpetuated her already high anxiety
Rainie founded Kentucky Farm Sanctuary on a fifty-acre patch of land in rural Lexington seven years earlier. The name was simple; she’d chosen the name for her non-profit organization after learning that Kentucky is a word of Native American origin and has been attributed to the Iroquois word “ken-tah-ten” which means: land of tomorrow. Rainie always envisioned the sanctuary as a place that cultivated hope. She truly desired that the land of tomorrow, her farm sanctuary, would be one of kindness, compassion and hope.
The sanctuary served as home for many different species of animals. It occasionally also served as a rehabilitation center for wildlife. After a few years in operation, Rainie began working with the foster care system to implement a volunteer program for teenagers aging out of the system. She knew that spending time with animals could serve as a positive experience for anyone, especially those experiencing anxiety about the future. Those that enjoyed the work and showed promise were often later offered employment at the sanctuary. Rainie’s standards were high and that meant great things for the animals and for the people who spent their time there. Hard work and discipline were requirements on the farm. She saw Kentucky Farm Sanctuary as a safe place for all living beings. It had been her vision from the start and it was something she vowed would never change.
“Rebecca, be sure to hook Betty’s wheels on at seven in the morning on the dot. She knows the routine and she’ll get anxious if you’re late. Oh, and every day be sure to check on Dot’s leg. She’s starting to use it but we want to make sure an infection doesn’t set in. If there’s the slightest sign of an issue we’ll need to get Dr. Wyse to look at it immediately. We need to be sure to stay on top of that… And Randy’s medication has been switched from liquid to pill form. I’ll need to show you how to administer it…” Rebecca followed Rainie around the farm, taking notes and nodding as the list continued to grow. Rainie knew she could trust Rebecca, she’d been working as the sanctuary manager for four years and had always done a fantastic job. But there was a great deal to do each day. There were a slew of small tasks Rainie followed up on or did herself each day that went unnoticed by others, although the animals would be sure to notice if these tasks were neglected. When it came to the care of the animals, a lack of care in any capacity, would not be tolerated. Rebecca knew this and was also passionate about the lifesaving work the sanctuary provided. Because of this, Rainie trusted she could hold everything together for a handful of days. She’d be back soon enough. She’d go to Corolla, spread her dad’s ashes on the beach and be back the next day.
John Newbury, a teen volunteer who’d been at the sanctuary for one month, crossed their path. He was carrying two empty buckets, his eyebrows furrowed. “Excuse me, Rebecca.” Rainie walked through a mud puddle to reach John. “Let’s meet back here after lunch and I’ll finish going over everything.”
“Sounds good, boss.” Rebecca smiled and headed into one of the barns while hanging her clipboard full of notes along the interior of the wall. The pigs squealed with delight at the sight of Rebecca and Rainie watched as two of them jogged up to her, rubbing their snouts into her open hands.
“Thanks. I’ll catch up with you then.” Rainie waved and then turned back toward John. Her boots were covered in mud, a typical occurrence on any given day. Some people wore suits and heels to work, Rainie wore an old pair of blue jeans, tall boots and an old T-shirt. “Mr. Newbury!” Rainie began walking beside him. John was much taller than her. He wore a pair of worn-out sneakers, baggy gray sweatpants and a black tank-top.
He stopped and looked up at her without a word or a smile.
“How’s it going?” Rainie asked.
“Fine.” John mumbled.
“I wanted to talk with you for a moment. Have a seat.” Rainie pointed to the picnic table a few feet away from where they stood and the two headed toward it.
Taking a seat, John folded his arms on the top of the table and looked around, avoiding eye contact with Rainie at all costs.
“Is everything going okay, John? Do you enjoy working here?” Rainie leaned back and joined him in looking at their surroundings. She wasn’t here to intimidate, she was here to provide a service.
“It’s fine. What did I do wrong? What am I in trouble for?” His defenses were up, although he was trying his best to appear confident and aloof.
“First, I wanted to tell you that I’m so happy to have you here. I’ve noticed that you’ve done a particularly good job with the pigs. Peggy and Sam have taken a liking to you.”
He waited quietly.
“Do you enjoy working with them?”
John nodded hesitantly.
“I did want to bring to your attention that last night it was your job to lock the door on the pigs’ enclosure.” She paused, waiting to see how he’d respond. Her words were firm but kind.
John shifted uncomfortably and for a moment she thought he might run away.
“If the pigs had been free to roam overnight, they could have been attacked by coyotes…” She paused, giving him time to soak in her statement. “It’s a life or death situation John. Everything we’re doing i
s to keep the animals safe, happy and healthy. No matter how small or inconsequential you think a chore is, there’s a purpose for it. It matters.”
“I forgot.” John mumbled.
“It’s okay this time. I caught it. Everything is okay. I wanted to bring it to your attention so it doesn’t happen again.” Rainie pushed the stray strands of hair behind her ears. “Are we clear?” She looked him in the eyes.
“Whatever.” John tossed the words her way with malice. “They’re just animals. What does it matter anyway? Why do they need special treatment?”
Rainie pressed her lips together. It wasn’t the first time she’d handled this type of conversation. She knew he felt hurt. She knew this wasn’t about the animals. It was about him. It was about what he’d been dealing with in his own life. It was about his own pain. “Mr. Newbury, I won’t be spoken to that way. The first rule at the sanctuary is respect. And what’s the second?”
He fiddled with his fingers. His nails were caked in mud. “Kindness.” His voice was a low mumble.
“These are not just animals.” Rainie motioned around her. “And none of us are just anything. We are all living beings, John. We all matter. You matter. No one’s life is more or less important than another’s. We all want to live, to be fully alive. To be loved. To be cared for. Isn’t that what you want, John?”
She watched the tears pool heavily in his brown eyes.
They sat in silence across from each other at the picnic bench before John’s voice reemerged. “I’m sorry.” He bowed his head. “I’m sorry I forgot to lock the enclosure. I…I had to…I was…”
Rainie stopped him from continuing. “Apology accepted. We all make mistakes, me included.” She laughed, signaling to him that everything was okay. “We’re all here to check and double check each other…because we’re all here for the animals.” She cleared her throat. “But just because we’re here for the animals, that doesn’t mean we don’t care about you, too.” She stood from the table and John did the same. “If you work hard and have respect and kindness toward everyone, and that includes yourself, you always have a place here.”
Reaching in her pocket, Rainie handed John a list of chores. Knowing that more than twenty-three thousand children age out of the United States foster care system every year and more than twenty-percent of those children become instantly homeless, she did what she could to change the statistics. By the age of twenty-four, years after aging out of the system, only fifty-percent will have gainful employment. Rainie desperately wanted to see that change and she tried her best to do her part to help in her small corner of the world.
“Mrs. Amburger?” John asked, wiping a quiet tear from his cheek.
Rainie raised her eyebrows.
“Were you a foster kid, too?”
Taking a step toward him, Rainie met John’s eyes. “I wasn’t. But I do understand wanting to escape your past.”
John nodded before walking away with his list of jobs in hand.
The day meandered between Rainie’s regular animal care tasks, training Rebecca to cover all of the small things while she was going to be away and worrying she forgot to tell her something, not to mention, trying to push away the anxiety of the impending trip. Once everyone had left for the day, she spent a few hours finishing a grant before showering and facing the empty suitcase that sat on top of her bed.
Three pairs of socks? Would that be enough? She looked at her work boots sitting outside the closet door. She wouldn’t need those at the beach. She pulled out each dresser drawer trying to decide what to pack. She didn’t own a bathing suit, but she supposed she wouldn’t be in Corolla long enough to swim. She would go and face her mom and sister. She would be there to spread her dad’s ashes and she would come home the next day. That was her plan.
Until now, Rainie had been too shocked from her mama’s phone call to feel anything but anxiety. She tossed and turned, not sleeping for a minute that night in anticipation of her upcoming trip. She woke at five to start the chores and greeted the staff and volunteers as they arrived throughout the morning. Since then, she hadn’t paused for a second. She’d been too busy making sure everything was running smoothly and that everyone knew what they needed to do while she was away. As she folded a T-shirt and placed it in her luggage, she recalled that she’d only been on one vacation in her lifetime. She’d been nine years old when her family rented a beach house in Corolla for one glorious week. And now, twenty-three years later, she found herself packing for the beach once again. But this time, it wouldn’t be for a family vacation. This time they wouldn’t spend the week together laughing. This time she wouldn’t be able to pretend that everything was copacetic as she did when she was nine. That week was the one week she looked back on from her childhood with nostalgia. It was the only week she remembered her mama seeming free. She laughed and jumped in the waves. She floated on a raft in the beach house pool. Her mom had braided the girl’s hair all week. And her dad, he hadn’t gotten mad. He hadn’t run away. Instead, he swam with them in the ocean. He watched movies with them in the evening. Once, he even made French toast for breakfast. It was as if the beach brought out the best in her parents. She remembered not wanting to leave. Sure, she loved being out of school. She had loved playing on the beach and building sand castles with Ronnie. But most of all, she reveled in the fact she had a loving family. For one single week, they mirrored the perfect families she had admired on television. They interacted. They were kind to each other. They were happy.
Walking into the bathroom to grab her toothbrush and toiletries, Rainie felt the brush of soft fur against her lower legs. Sparkles meowed and looked up at her, her green eyes glowing. “Rebecca will take good care of you, I promise.” She reached down to pet the sleek black cat. “It’s only for a few days.” Rainie added before standing up to finish packing. She was cognizant that she hadn’t cried. Not during her mama’s phone call and not at the news she’d delivered. What she didn’t understand was why. Why had her mama not broken away from her dad a long time ago? Why hadn’t she reached out to her before tragedy struck? Did her mom ever miss her? And what about Ronnie? Would she show up? Rainie wondered where her little sister was living these days. Was she still in Morehead or had she moved away? Had she married? Did she have children? There was so much she didn’t know. There were questions she’d locked away for many years while she’d thrown herself into work and focused on the future rather than the past.
Sparkles jumped inside of Rainie’s suitcase and curled up in a ball before closing her eyes. “You’re coming with me?” Rainie smiled. “I don’t think you’d enjoy the drive.” Picking Sparkles up and gently placing her on the bed, Rainie zipped her suitcase and placed it on the floor. She’d be leaving in the morning, although she knew she wouldn’t catch a wink of sleep again tonight. She had too much on her mind. Too many swirling questions. She’d have ten hours of driving tomorrow to think, she reminded herself. And dwelling on things wasn’t going to change the way they were. The truth was, she’d been estranged from her family for years. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face the past when she’d worked so hard to put it all behind her. And to spread her dad’s ashes? She knew she wasn’t ready for that. He’d been a difficult man, there was no arguing that point. But still, he’d been her father. It was as if her emotions were being mixed in a blender. She’d built her life to feel a sense of control. But right now, with the news of her dad and the impending trip to Corolla, Rainie felt all control had been lost. Tomorrow she’d be leaving the one place she felt safe, the place she felt strong. And she’d be going to meet those who’d made her feel the opposite. To an outsider, going to the beach might be a cathartic experience. What a beautiful, peaceful setting to spread a parent’s ashes. But to Rainie, her whole world was caving in. She feared the second she saw her mama and sister she’d become a helpless child again. She dreaded the loss of control. Maybe, she thought, she wouldn’t go at all.
〜
The strawberries were neatly s
liced. Carrying them carefully into her home studio, she arranged the slices into the shape of a heart. Once the strawberries and surrounding props were in place, she turned to grab her Nikon 750. The lens she preferred for food photography was already attached. The lighting was in place. The camera was set to manual mode, her favorite setting to capture photographs.
Veronica Ellen Jorgenson’s photographs hung in several Cincinnati galleries. She also sold her food, landscape and wildlife prints, online. At twenty-five, Veronica’s life felt on-track. Although her income varied from month to month, she made more than enough to make ends meet. Admittedly, she was always happy to have a remarkable month of sales because that meant she could do more shopping. Veronica had a love for shopping; not for any particular item, for any item. She loved shopping for clothes, gifts, antiques, bargains. Anything, really. She loved the feeling it gave her. She always had. And of course, she loved adding to her ever growing collection of photography gadgets and supplies. Veronica also collected vintage cameras, showcasing them in a large glass cabinet that sat proudly in the upstairs hall. Her shopping habit was supported by her husband, Andrew, who had a more than healthy income. He worked for The Proctor and Gamble Company and at thirty-one, he’d worked there for eight years. But that healthy income came at a cost. Andrew’s time. He spent twelve plus hours at work, five days a week. He often went to the office on Saturday’s, too.
Veronica snapped several photos, wanting the light to be perfect. She experimented with various angles as she clicked the camera. Once satisfied, she cleared away the strawberries, popping a handful into her mouth and devouring their sweet taste before setting up for the next food shoot. Their cape cod home rested in Blue Ash, a quaint suburb of Cincinnati. This made for an easy commute to work for Andrew. Veronica’s commute was nil when she shot food photography at home or worked on editing her photographs, updating her website, sending out print orders or speaking with galleries. Her length of travel varied when it came to wildlife and landscape shoots. She loved everything about her work. Most of all, she loved the creativity and freedom it provided her. She’d never understood how Andrew could stand to work in a cubicle day after day, year after year. But he was happy with his work and she didn’t question it. She realized that different people craved different things from life and work. For Veronica, when she was working with her photography, she was truly in her element.