30 Days

by Larsen, K

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  By K. Larsen

  Copyright 2012 K. Larsen

  Original cover photograph by Briggs Johnson

  Prologue

  The list! I can't forget the list. I rip it from the wall fold it up and stuff it in my sports bra. My heart is beating wildly in my chest. I feel frantic and I’m starting to sweat. I pull on my hoodie sans hood strings of course, slip my feet into my lace less Keds and make my way to Manny’s sleeping form.

  It’s eerily quiet in the corridor right now. Just the faint hum of the ice machine and various beeps and buzzes from patients rooms. I quietly sneak around the nurses’ station desk and crouch down to Manny. I’m so sorry. I really do like you. Please forgive me. I tug his wallet out of his back pocket and remove all the cash. A hundred dollars will be plenty to tide me over until the morning. I stuff the cash in my sports bra. I unclip Manny’s employee badge from the front of his shirt, toss the wallet on the desk next to his head and quickly walk down the hall.

  Every noise, every beep, every voice makes me panic and stop moving. I press myself into the wall until I’m sure it’s nothing. This is crazy Elle. What are you doing? I silently scold myself. When I’m sure the coast is clear I walk to the main doors of our floor and hold Manny’s badge up to the magnetic reader. A slight click alerts me that all I have to do is push the door in front of me and I’m as good as free. My hand shakes as I raise it up to the door. It feels heavy and like someone else’s arm. With my palm on the door I lean into my arm slightly until it opens just enough for me to slip through.

  I try to walk as inconspicuously as possible to the elevators and punch the down button. There is no one in the hallway except a few passing laundry aids who pay me no mind. The fact that I’m wearing scrubs, a hoodie and white sneakers is probably my only saving grace. I blend in pretty well. The elevator dings and the doors open. I put one foot in front of the other until I’m safely inside before hitting the lobby button. My skin feels like it’s on fire. My breath is quick and shallow and my heart is beating so fiercely in my rib cage that I’m afraid it might crack bone.

  The elevator dings again and the doors slide open. I step out of the metal box turn left and keeping my chin down, head for the glass front doors. The fifty foot walk seems to take forever. There is a woman sitting behind the information desk who’s watching me. I tilt my head up and smile at her. She smiles back. The revolving doors close around me as I step into their spin and then I’m out.

  It’s the end of July or the first week of August. I’m not sure which. It’s muggy and damp and hot out. The humidity assaults my lungs when I try to inhale. It’s definitely too hot for a sweatshirt but I only have a sports bra on underneath it. I keep walking further and further away from the hospital until I’m sure that if someone looked out a window they wouldn't see me. I walk into the nearest convenience store to buy a pack of gum and a bottle of water. The air conditioning in the store feels heavenly. I’m dripping with sweat from my walk here and nerves.

  I did it. I’m out! A wave of relief washes over me leaving me temporarily giddy. When I exit the store I notice a few taxis parked and waiting across the street. I make my way over to one of them. “Could you take me to a cheap hotel?” I ask the cabby through the open window.

  “How cheap?”

  “Dirt cheap.” I reply. He nods his head at me and I open the back door and climb in. He drives four blocks before pulling up in front of a dilapidated brick building. “They rent by the hour.” He informs me.

  I didn't mean this cheap but honestly it will do. I hand him a ten dollar bill and get out of the cab. When I finally check in, paying for one night, I’m left with fifty two dollars and change. The cab ride to my house from here will be at least thirty dollars. I lie down on top of the blankets fully clothed and stare at the chipping ceiling paint. Jenny, we did it. I’m out. Almost free. Stay with me. The bed is lumpy and the room smells funny. I close my eyes trying to ignore my surroundings and an hour later I fall asleep.

  I wake with a start. I’m groggy and can't remember where I am. It’s disorienting. When my brain catches up with me I let out a squeal of joy. This is the dirty, cheap hotel. I am not in my sterile room. I escaped.

  PRESENT

  The sun is shining through the sheer curtains. I stretch my arms and legs, arching my back. I haven’t slept so well in a long time. I feel rested. When I open my eyes the sheer blue of the bedroom walls calms me. I can hear the waves lapping the sand outside and seagulls squawking. It’s going to be a good day, I can feel it. I smile as I roll out of bed and start the coffee maker before brushing my teeth. Back in the kitchen I grab the new mug I bought yesterday that reads ‘step aside coffee, this is a job for alcohol’. It made me giggle, so I bought it. Setting it on the counter I turn and reach for the fridge handle. The list hangs directly in my line of sight. Have dinner alone- is at the top of it.

  I yank the door open, grab the creamer and head outside with my coffee and a cinnamon roll from the bakery up the street. Morning Jenny. This is day one sister! I’m going to tackle that stupid list if it’s the last thing I do. Love you. I sink my teeth into the cinnamon roll and moan. Inspecting it further it has got to be the best cinnamon roll I’ve ever put in my mouth. Its perfect parts icing, dough and cinnamon and I think I could eat ten of them. I try to savor it, really I do, but I pretty much shoved as much as possible in my mouth and finish it in three bites. I pick up the complimentary paper left on the patio set every morning and thumb through the pages leisurely as I finish my coffee.

  I choke on a sip of my coffee when I see my picture, the same one from the TV, printed on the back page of the third section. It’s a missing person’s type ad but also goes on to say that I am a possible danger to myself and to please call Mick Tyson with information. Who is Mick Tyson? I grab my kindle and open up the web to search him. I really wish I had my laptop.

  Mick has a 90% success rate when searching for missing persons.

  Supply him with the information on the locate missing person sheet

  and he will do the rest. Everything is confidential.

  For a free confidential & discreet consultation, call 888-800-3455

  I blow out a breath. Great. Not entirely the perfect morning I had planned. Well Mick, I hate to foil your plans but Elle Darling is not going to be found. I have thirty things to get done and intend on doing them. It helps that I’m paying for everything in cash. I’m not as stupid as Ryan thinks. With new found determination I decide to take a shopping trip today and give myself a makeover.

  I hit the salon first indulging in a long overdue manicure and a pedicure. While my nails are drying I get an amazing facial that leaves me feeling like a new person. Lastly I get a haircut. I’ve always kept my hair long, at least half way down my back but I have the stylist cut in some long wispy bangs and bring it up so my newly brunette hair skims my shoulders. I look better than I have in months. Healthy. Alive. Almost vibrant.

  I leave the salon with a smile on my face and a spring in my step. I feel wonderful and I haven’t felt that way in years.

  Now it’s time for some serious shopping. I want a new look for my wardrobe. I’ve always dressed fairly preppy but I think it’s time to go with a more laid back look. One that suits me better. I am now laid back, happy go lucky Elle. At least I’m trying to be. I want fun clothes. I want comfortable clothes. I stop into almost every boutique on the little downtown strip and start building a playful, yet comfortable wardrobe. Turns out, to my delight I’m a size smaller now too. Stress will do that to you I supp
ose. Things I never thought I could pull off before look amazing now. Maybe it’s just my new outlook or maybe the one size down is the reason. Either way, I don't care. I’m having a blast trying everything on.

  By the time I’ve finished shopping I am tired and starving. I head back to the cottage to unload my new things. Tonight I have dinner alone. At a restaurant. I need to pick something that says I’m not on a date, and I’m not a pathetic woman eating alone. Needless to say I deliberate on this conundrum for a while.

  I settle on a jean skirt, a green cotton tee and a pair of wedge sandals. I grab my purse and stand at the door, knob in hand. This better not end up sucking Jenny. I twist the knob, push the door ajar and start walking. I wander up and down the main drag a few times passing restaurants and trying to decide which on one. Some are just too fancy to eat at alone. Dimly lit, soft music playing and couples handholding. Some are too loud and the crowd too young for my taste. The Pig Pit is where I end up at. There is bluesy music drifting through the air and it’s decorated in plain metal tables that have brushed steel tops. It’s crowded but not loud or overwhelming.

  “How many tonight.” The hostess asks.

  “Just one.” I reply trying my best not to sound sad, lonely or pathetic, like I feel.

  “Right this way.” She walks me to a small table in the corner at a window. I look at the menu and quickly decide on a pulled pork sandwich with all the fixings. The waiter comes, takes my order and promises to return with my lemon water shortly.

  As I sit there looking around, watching the other customers I realize that no one is paying attention to me. I’m a ghost. I, however, notice all of them. There are some really interesting conversations. A group of college aged guys are talking about a professor who apparently spits when he talks and therefore, no one wants to sit in the front two rows. How spit can reach two rows back is baffling to me. I chuckle quietly to myself listening to their banter. The table to my back is involved in a much deeper conversation about God and his existence. I almost choke on my water as a woman counters her friend asking ‘if God exists then what's up with the Holocaust?’.

  “Here you are.” The waiter smiles as he puts my food down in front of me. “Enjoy.”

  “Thank you.”

  I put my napkin in my lap and dig in. My eyes dart around as I take small bites of my sandwich. There are a few guys at the bar who keep looking over here but besides that no one seems to notice that I am sitting alone eating. Plus the three guys at the bar aren’t ugly. I don't openly stare at them because I don't want to draw attention to myself but the quick glances that I do steal, shows them all to be quite attractive. Ok, maybe you were right... no one gives a shit. It’s not so bad. I don't feel like a leper. Yet.

  By the time I finish quite possibly one of the best pulled pork sandwiches in history, what did they put in it anyways? Goat cheese maybe, I am so stuffed I feel like I’m going to waddle home. The waiter brings me the check and after settling the bill I stand to make my way out.

  “Hey.” A voice calls. I ignore it because obviously they couldn't be talking to me. “Hey, excuse me.” I stop and turn towards the voice. Two light blue eyes on a handsome face meet mine.

  “Hello?” I ask.

  “Would you like to join us for a drink?” He asks as he motions to the other two guys. I feel a smile creep over my face. They are hitting on me! “Um, thanks for the offer but no.” I retort.

  “Oh come on, you don't look like you’re in a rush. Just sit with us.” Blue eyes says.

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” He counters. I shrug trying to come up with a reason but the white noise and chatter of the restaurant distracts me.

  “Ok, one beer.” I give in and three good looking men smile and point to the empty stool at the end of their row. Blue eyes is clearly the outgoing one, tall and confident. He is now sitting furthest from me. In the middle sits a dark haired stocky man who has a friendly face. Next to me is, I guess, the quiet one. He nods his head at me when I sit down and I can’t figure it out but I’m intrigued at his quiet demeanor. He, like blue eyes is tall and well built. The three of them are dressed casually but all look like they spend ten hours a day at a gym. Their shirts stretch tightly around their biceps and chests. The quiet one has light brown hair and the strangest hazel eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re captivating. He hasn't said anything yet but I feel strangely connected to him. Comforted in his presence.

  “Ben.” The outgoing one says.

  “Hi Ben.” I say leaning forward to see him.

  “John.” The stocky middle guy shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Hey. I’m Elle.” I say to the three of them.

  “Colin. Hi.” Hazel eyes lock on mine as he reaches his hand out to me. I shake it. The contact makes my body tingle like chemicals colliding. His eyes widen slightly as if he feels it too.

  Whatever feeling it is startles me and I drop his hand. He only said hello but his eyes look like coming home. It takes me by surprise and I’m not prepared for it. Immediately I feel out of place. I don’t want a beer. I feel panic coming on. I slide off my seat and stand nervously shaking my head, Colin’s hazel eyes never leaving mine as he stares at me with curiosity.

  “Sorry guys, but I think I need to head home, maybe another time. It was nice meeting you though.” I sputter excusing myself and quickly dart out of the restaurant before they have a chance to say anything. What is wrong with me Jenny?

  Searsport is nice because from my cottage at the Inn I can walk anywhere I need to so far. My walk home gives me plenty of time to over analyze why I bolted tonight. Dinner had gone well. I did it and I didn't feel strange or judged. In fact it was nice to just sit alone and enjoy a meal. Why couldn’t I enjoy the company of three good looking guys over a simple beer? They weren’t creepy or mean. All three were friendly. It was Colin’s touch, his eyes. It was too intimate for two strangers and it threw me.

  By the time I arrive home my mind is reeling. I can’t get Colin or his hazel eyes out of my mind. They’re unforgettable. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that I felt so relaxed and at ease when his eyes were so intent on mine. Like we’d known each other our whole lives. Like he saw me. The electricity that rocketed through me when our hands touched was surreal, I shake the ridiculous thoughts from my head. I also didn’t stay, I remind myself. I bolted like some crazy person with no explanation. I may not be crazy but I certainly acted crazy.

  I fill a glass with water and sit on the deck watching the moonlight reflect off the ocean. The light undulates with the shift of the tide. It’s breathtaking. Ok, Jenny, one thing down. I miss your laugh tonight. I miss talking to you. A breeze whips around me making me feel alive.

  I switch on the kitchen radio and Keep Hope Alive fills the small open space. The Crystal Method reminds me of early high school. I turn it up as loud as I can and plop down on the couch. Leaning my head back on the cushion I close my eyes, take a deep breath and smile letting the electronic pull of the music lift me up. Hope creeps back into my soul. When it ends I stand and stride with purpose to the fridge and pause. I grab the sharpie in the pencil holder and cross out number one on my list. Done.

  ***

  “That was odd, what the hell?” Ben hollers two seats over to me.

  “Yeah seriously, what’d you do to her hand?” John asks.

  “I have no idea.” I shrug still slightly stunned.

  When she sat next to me I couldn't tear my eyes from her. Brown silky hair hanging at her shoulders and those eyes. I swear they cut right through me. Her eyes had flashed emerald sparks as she looked at me. She was stunning but not in the way that makes you intimidated like some women. She wasn’t overly made up or trying too hard. There was a soft presence about her. I felt like I’d known her my whole life. Like she knew all my secrets just from touching my hand. She bolted before I could stop her and for a moment I wanted to run after her. I didn't of course. That would probably scare the shit out of her. She seemed so
delicate, maybe five- five, but fragile in some way. Her hourglass figure didn't go unnoticed. But something about the way she carried herself said that she had no idea how beautiful she was and that she was lost. A deep sensation that this was just the beginning washed over me.

  DAY 2

  The pitter patter of raindrops lulls me out of a deep sleep. I crack my eyes open to a gray and gloomy room. The clock reads eight am. I groan pulling the covers over my head and go back to sleep for another two hours.

  See a movie alone the list reads. I’m not in the mood... It’s such crappy weather out today that I just want to curl up on the couch with my kindle in my jammies and read for the day. Maybe even nap. I don't have to do something every single day really. Do I Jenny? I hold my breath and wait for an answer that never comes.

  I drink my morning coffee sitting curled in one of the armchairs reading. I can feel that stupid list calling me. Dammit Jenny. I set the kindle on the coffee table and pace around the room deliberating. Decisively I jump in the shower resolving to get ready and see a movie. I throw on jeans, cowboy boots and a lightweight long sleeved shirt. After putting on some mascara and lip gloss, I pull my hair haphazardly into a ponytail and set out.

  I stop at the first shop I come to, buy an umbrella and ask for directions to the nearest theater. The young lady at the register is stunning and perky. Even on this gloomy day she’s a ray of sunshine. It makes me laugh as I step back out into the rain and start my three block walk to the theater.