Farah's Deadline

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Farah's Deadline Page 2

by Brenda Maxfield


  “Patience is a virtue,” Steve said and scooted his chair further under the table. He pulled his napkin from its ring and put it on his lap.

  Jasmyn rolled her eyes. “So is punctuality.”

  Edie laughed and sat down to the right of Steve. She beamed at me. “Farah, tonight Lizbet is serving. We take turns. The girls also help with the cooking, but don’t you worry yourself about it right now. I’ll have an orientation meeting with you after dinner. For now, enjoy the meal. I think you’ll find the food at Pleasant Living Home quite delicious.”

  “So, can we start without Ariel?” Jasmyn asked, taking a gulp of water and setting her glass down with a thud.

  “Let’s give her a couple more minutes,” Steve said.

  Lizbet had evidently finished serving the food because she slipped into the spot across from me. There was a thin layer of sweat on her upper lip, and her face was flushed. A slightly red face was a big improvement over the pasty complexion she wore earlier. I wondered if she’d consider using blush.

  “We say grace before meals here,” Steve told me.

  I nodded. Everyone sat still while the subway clock over the mirror ticked down the seconds. “All right. We’ve waited long enough,” Edie said and bowed her head. “Shall we pray? Lord, for this food, we are grateful. And please bless every one of these girls and the miracles of life growing inside them. Amen.”

  “Let’s eat.” Jasmyn grabbed the bowl of mashed potatoes in front of her and shoveled a huge spoonful onto her plate. She passed them to me. I helped myself and then looked up in time to witness a rush of energy — in the form of an Asian girl — enter the room. I half-expected everyone’s hair to blow back from their faces.

  “Sorry I’m late!” she gushed. “Crazy how time flies.”

  She plopped herself in the seat next to Lizbet and grabbed the basket of bread. Her black hair was braided tightly, pulling her flawless skin back into an expression of perpetual surprise. Her dark eyes were smudged at the corners where she’d brushed a heavy swath of navy eye shadow. Even though she had a dainty mouth, she took a massive bite of bread.

  Then she saw me.

  She laughed, spraying crumbs around the table. Her hand went to her mouth, and she laughed harder. She made an exaggerated swallow and gave me a wink.

  “Whoa! Sorry for the crumb-shower, everyone.” She raised her eyebrows into a pointed arch. “I’m Ariel. Three months along.”

  “Two months,” I said and grinned. Now here was someone with personality. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so alone at Pleasant Living Home after all.

  Edie rose from the table and fussed around Ariel, wiping up the crumbs with her napkin. “Ariel, slow down, girl. We have plenty of time to eat.”

  Ariel glanced up at Edie. “You’re right. Sorry. And sorry for being late.”

  “Shall we continue our meal?” asked Steve.

  He reminded me of a butler, all straight-faced and formal.

  Ariel gave me a sly look, smiled as if we shared a secret, and resumed eating. How she could shovel such loads of food into her mouth was beyond me. She was thin, too. No, she was downright skinny, three months pregnant or not.

  When we finished eating, Jasmyn and Rosaline cleared the table. Edie came around and took my arm.

  “Honey, come with me. We’ll chat about the rules and such. We don’t want you confused or uncertain about anything.” She steered me through the living room. “This is your home for the next seven months or so. More than anything, we want you to be happy.”

  She took me into the same small office where Steve had taken my dad earlier. The room was filled with a mid-sized desk shoved up against one wall. Two stuffed office chairs flanked it, one behind and one in front. Edie sat in the one behind and wheeled herself around the desk to where I sat in the other chair.

  “There’s a list of household tasks on the kitchen bulletin board. Your name has already been added to the rotation. We’re flexible if you’re ever feeling sick. The girls are great to switch around tasks as needed. Are you feeling sick at all?”

  “Not much anymore. I still puke sometimes in the morning.”

  She patted my knee. “That will pass soon enough. Now, there is the issue of school. You’ll be attending our local high school.”

  She had my attention. I stiffened. “I thought we’d be home schooled.”

  “Oh no, dear. Steve and I aren’t able to teach all of you. But don’t you worry. Sticksford High is a great school. We have an arrangement with them for all our girls — except the older ones of course. Didn’t your father tell you? He sent your transcripts to Sticksford.”

  I shook my head. Dear old Dad hadn’t shared a whole lot of anything. Once the decision was made to ship me off, all responsibility was shipped off, too. I sighed.

  “I don’t want to dump too much on you at once. Tomorrow is Sunday, and we usually go to church together, but it isn’t required. You may stay home if you like. Although, we always make sure at least one other person stays so no one’s alone. You know, in case of any kind of emergency. Would you like to go to church?”

  She stared into my eyes with such a hopeful expression, I hated to say no. But I said it anyway. She flinched as if insulted.

  “Oh, well. Okay, then.” She pushed her hand through her hair and then gave it a pat. “We’ll talk more tomorrow afternoon. Sometimes the girls play games in the evenings as I told you. You’re welcome to join them.”

  “Is there a TV?” I asked. Playing games sounded pathetic.

  “Yes, we have one in the den. We don’t encourage it, though. It can be such a time waster.”

  A time waster — exactly what I needed while I waited for Pete’s rescue.

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  Edie smiled at me, leaned forward, and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “I want you to feel right at home, Farah. We’re all here to help you. Sleep well, and if you need anything, my room is down the opposite hall from your rooms.”

  “Okay. Thanks,” I said, eager to go in search of the TV.

  The den was located to the right of the dining area. The walls were covered with overflowing bookshelves. Two large plain sofas from the Dark Ages were angled in the middle of the room.

  Ariel lounged on one of them.

  “I figured you’d be here soon,” she said. She was sitting cross-legged, rubbing her feet. “I knew you were a kindred spirit the moment I set eyes on you.”

  I chuckled. “Did you now?”

  “You going to church tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Probably not.”

  “Sit here next to me.”

  I did.

  “I never go. I have adventures instead.”

  “What do you mean by adventures?”

  She scooted close. “This place cramps my style. Oh, everyone’s nice and all, but man, you can hardly move without someone watching you.” She searched my face as if waiting for a reaction.

  I was careful not to give one. I wasn’t accustomed to revealing myself too soon in any game.

  “I never go to church,” she repeated. “Usually, Rosaline has to babysit me. Notice how old she is?”

  “Yeah, what’s that about?”

  “You can live here if you’re under twenty-four. She’s twenty-three. She’s got a horrid sob story, but don’t we all? If you stay home tomorrow, it can be just you and me.”

  “And...”

  “And I happen to know someone who’ll come get us. We could be gone for two hours without anyone knowing a thing.”

  She crossed her arms and looked at me with obvious pride in her arrangement. “You in?”

  Normally, I was the one who came up with plans. But then, did I want to sit around the house all morning? And if I left with Ariel, I might be able to contact Pete.

  “I’m in.”

  “Superb,” she said. “I assume you know how to act innocent.”

  I widened my eyes, opened my mouth slightly, and put on my best flustered look.

  Ariel burst
out laughing. “You’re better than I am.”

  ****

  At ten o’clock, I crept down a deserted hallway to my room. I’d ended up watching TV by myself for most of the evening after Ariel left, feeling nauseous. I guess everyone else took Edie’s view to heart about TV being a waste of time. Waste of time or not, I couldn’t muster up energy for much else. My body was a deflated soccer ball. I had no desire for anything, which worried me. It was as if my body, my old body before pregnancy, had deserted me. I used to be able to run circles around everyone. Even the best athletes at school couldn’t keep up with me.

  Now, I was lucky to make it through the day with enough energy to fall into bed.

  And at ten o’clock, falling into bed was all I wanted to do.

  I opened the bedroom door a crack, and the faint glow of the electric clock greeted me. Lizbet rustled in the covers but said nothing. I tip-toed in, found my sweats in the dark, and put them on. I walked to my bed and pulled down the covers.

  “I’m awake,” Lizbet said.

  I jumped. “Didn’t mean to waken you.”

  “You didn’t.” Her voice was soft, but firm. I got the feeling she was more courageous in the dark.

  I climbed under the covers. “Uh, Lizbet, sorry about before.” I wasn’t used to apologizing when the other person couldn’t see me. My habitual practice was to look adorable when saying I was sorry — and, well, not to brag, but I was blessed with thick red hair and flashing green eyes. Most people couldn’t resist.

  She sat up. “It’s okay. Were you watching TV?”

  “Nothing was on.”

  “What I told you before, no one knows. What happened to me. Okay, not exactly no one. My parents and Ned know, but Steve and Edie don’t. They only know it was bad. The rest of the girls don’t know either.”

  “They don’t?”

  “They know I won’t talk about it.”

  “Who’s Ned?”

  “My brother. I have a photo of him.”

  “I already saw it.” I was sitting up in bed now, too. I could make out Lizbet’s shadowy silhouette across from me.

  “Oh.” She sucked in her breath, and I waited for her to go on, but she didn’t. All I heard was air seeping from between her lips.

  “Go ahead and talk if you want,” I said.

  She nodded in the shadows. I waited again. Usually, I barrel right through with my opinions and advice. But for some reason, looking at her thin figure in the dark, I stayed quiet.

  “He hurt me.” A huge sob exploded from her chest. I stiffened. She cried, her low moaning sounds mixed with choking hiccups.

  She kept it up for a few minutes, then it faded into gasping breaths, until finally there was silence again.

  “My father and mother didn’t know him. We were only doing our spiritual duty, entertaining guests. He was the Bishop’s second cousin. The Bishop had other guests that week, so we took him.”

  She wiped her face with her arm. “I wasn’t well, so during the revival meeting on Saturday night, I stayed home and so did he.”

  A blind person could see where this was headed.

  “He came into my room, and... and...” Her voice hung in the air.

  “Say no more. I get the picture.”

  Lizbet sniffed loudly. “There was no one to help me. I didn’t tell Mother until the next morning, and by then he was long gone.”

  “But the police could have found him. It wouldn’t even have been hard.”

  “We didn’t call the police. I have to bear this.”

  Why hadn’t she fought for herself? “How ridiculous. He should be the one suffering.”

  “No. I’m here and I’m safe, and I’ll have it and give it away.”

  “He could be hurting other girls.”

  She didn’t respond. Her extended silence made me feel like a sleaze for turning it back on her, like catching him was her responsibility.

  “Forget what I said.”

  There had to be more to her story, but I was sure I wouldn’t hear it that night.

  “I’m not giving my baby away,” I said, my voice too loud.

  “I know. You said Pete was coming for you, right?”

  “He better,” I answered. Exhaustion had worked its way through every cell of my body. I lay over in bed and brought the covers to my chin. “I’m pooped. Night, Lizbet.”

  “Night.” I heard her squiggle down into her covers, too.

  Day One was over.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning was Sunday, and I helped serve the breakfast of eggs, toast, fruit salad, and milk. I’d never eaten such a big breakfast, except when I spent the night at Emili’s. Her mother cooked enough for all the people in Edgemont. And she liked me, way more than my own mother liked me. I spent tons of time there, too, before the Day—the Day when I screwed everything up.

  My name wasn’t on the clean-up roster, but I’d volunteered because I wanted the church-goers to hurry up and leave the house, so Ariel and I could be free to sneak out.

  One problem, though. Some old lady named Beatrice was hanging around in the kitchen. Since Rosaline was going to church, Edie said there needed to be an adult at the Home.

  I was about to protest loud and long, but Ariel gave me a look and shook her head. I shut my mouth. By nine o’clock, everyone was loading into the van. Edie tried one more time. “Sure you don’t want to go, Farah? You can meet more people, and they’re all kind and loving.”

  “Thanks, Edie, but I’ll stay with Ariel,” I said.

  Ariel had a bored, whatever look on her face. I tried to discern whether she was putting on a show, or whether she didn’t care if I stayed or went.

  Finally, Steve hustled Edie out the door. It slammed behind them, and Ariel jumped off the couch and clapped her hands.

  “What about Beatrice?” I whispered.

  “Phhst, nothing.” Ariel waved her hand in dismissal. “Give her five minutes, and she’ll be sound asleep.”

  A nervous edginess crept up my spine. “How do you know?”

  “Not the first time she’s babysat me,” Ariel said. She leaned close and whispered. “Gen is coming for us in fifteen minutes. By then, it’ll be no problem. We’ll leave a note saying we went for a walk in the trees, in case Beatrice wakes up. Gen will meet us at the end of the drive. Beatrice will never know, trust me.”

  “How’d you make plans with Gen? You have a phone stashed somewhere?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I have my ways. Someday, I might even tell you.”

  I frowned and followed Ariel to the couch, where we sat like good little girls. Beatrice poked her head in from the kitchen area, her spiky gray hair in total disarray. “You girls okay?” She drawled her words.

  “Fine, Beatrice, thanks,” Ariel said. “We’re going to sit and chat for a bit. Feel free to take a load off.”

  “Don’t mind if I do. Didn’t sleep well last night.” She came in and stood in front of us, huffing from the exertion of walking ten steps. “Mercy, I haven’t slept well since I was twenty — which was awhile back!” She put her hand on her belly and chortled.

  Ariel laughed with a huge blast of energy. I stared at her. Talk about over-doing it.

  “Beatrice, if you haven’t slept since you were twenty, you must be mighty tired. Go on and rest on the couch in the den. It’s the most comfy.”

  Beatrice nodded her head like she’d been served her favorite birthday meal. “Don’t mind if I do,” she said. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  She waddled off to the den with a smug look on her face.

  Ariel put her hand over her mouth and laughed into it. She craned her neck, following Beatrice’s progress to the couch. Then she put her hand down and whispered, “For someone who never sleeps, she falls into a stupor mighty fast. We’ll give her a couple minutes. Got your purse?”

  I didn’t. I slipped off the couch and hurried to my room. With the thick carpet, I wasn’t worried about making any noise. My stomach was gurgling. I paused
at the bathroom door, wondering if I was going to puke. After a few seconds, it settled back down. Must be too much excitement.

  I grabbed my purse, slung it over my shoulder, and hustled back out to the living room. Ariel was standing in the doorway, peering into the den. She held her finger to her lips. “Sound asleep,” she murmured.

  We headed to the front door and opened it so slowly cobwebs could have formed. Once the door was shut with a dull click, Ariel threw her arms wide. “Freedom!” she cried.

  “Shh, she’ll hear you.”

  “No she won’t. She’ll be out for two hours at least.”

  Ariel grabbed my arm and pulled me down the drive. She didn’t have to pull hard; I was ready. I’d only been at Pleasant Living Home for one day, but it already felt like a month. Halfway down the drive, we were running.

  Ahead, there was a green compact car. A tall, slim girl was leaning against the hood. She wore skinny jeans, boots, and a sloppy, brown leather jacket. Her black hair fell against her face, covering one eye. She smoked a cigarette like it was a lost art.

  “Gen,” Ariel called and ran up to her. They hugged and air-kissed. “This is Farah, a soul-mate.”

  I reached them, panting a bit.

  Ariel grabbed Gen’s cigarette from her mouth. “Smoking? Man, Gen, you’ve got two pregnant girls here.”

  “You smoke,” Gen answered, struggling to retrieve her cigarette back from Ariel’s grasp.

  Ariel flicked it onto the asphalt. “Not anymore. Use a brain.”

  “Oh, fine,” Gen said. “Get in the car. We don’t have much time.”

  Ariel laughed and slugged Gen in the shoulder. Gen walked around to the driver’s side, and Ariel opened the passenger door for me.

  “Hop in.”

  I climbed over the folded seat, settled into the back, and fastened my seatbelt. She slipped into the passenger’s seat.

  “Hang on, girls,” Gen said. She twisted the key in the ignition and the motor rumbled to a shaky start. She yanked it into gear, and we jerked down the road.

  “Slow down, or you’re gonna make us both puke,” Ariel complained.

  “Sorry, need a new fuel pump. Quit complaining. You’re out of the Home, aren’t you?” Gen let up on the gas, and our ride smoothed out a bit.

 

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