by Frankie Love
“I’m not like you, Bear. I can’t stop thinking about Laila and what Ricky might do... about the Badlands. I can’t erase the memories.”
“Laila is fine, what I’m worried about is you,” I tell her. Do you need to see a counselor or something? Because calling Laila isn’t an option, Ginny.”
Virginia twists her long blonde hair into a bun on the top of her head, keeping quiet as she contemplates my words. “She’s my best friend... and we just left her.” She sighs, pulling the blanket back around herself, tears welling up in her eyes. “We should have moved to a big city. Somewhere where I could get lost.”
“I’m done being lost. I’m ready to be found.”
She gives a sharp, sad laugh. “Found, out here? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“There are people here. I go to Eagle Crest for groceries. The closest town is only about five miles away. And besides the supermarket, there is new construction finishing up for a small outdoor mall. It’s not so bad. And there is a school in town, you could be a lunch lady or something.”
“I don’t want to get a job. I can’t be responsible for anything or anyone. Hell, I can hardly take care of myself right now.”
“I know.” I exhale, knowing Virginia isn’t the type of girl you can push too hard. I wish she were more resilient, but she just hasn’t found her strength yet.
“So where are you off to anyway?” she asks. “Eagle Crest?”
“If I were, would you come along?”
“No way.”
I nod; I’d assumed she’d say that. “I’m just going for a long walk. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
I leave the cabin, and my mind is already thinking about her. About the other morning when I carried the empty basket belonging to the woman from the woods to her doorstep.
I had followed the path she’d taken, and it led me to a cottage among the trees. One right from the pages of a storybook. White picket fence, flower baskets under each window. A sloping roof and a tiny second story window that was stained glass. There was a vegetable garden and a clothesline. Potted plants on the doorsteps and a picnic table under a blossoming cherry tree.
I’ve never had a real home, but if I were to ever dream one up, it would be just like hers. That cottage is where memories could be made, where a real-life could be created.
The cabin I’m sharing with my sister seems so cold in comparison, but what do I expect? Virginia and I had been with the Badlands since we ran away as kids. I’m twenty-six now, and she’s twenty-one; both of us, though, spent a decade on the backs of motorcycles and in dive bars.
Never once did we spend a night in a place that could be called a home.
It makes me feel even less worthy of that woman’s affection. I hate that I took her virginity. Even more so, now that I’ve seen what a beautiful life she already has.
Yet, holding her in my arms was more perfect than anything else in this world. Her body against mine felt complete, felt right. For that sliver of time, it was as if life made sense. With her hands on my chest, there was no question of where I belonged.
Then the harsh reality hit me when she asked my name.
I can never get close to her because I don’t want to feed her lies... and if she knew the truth-- that I’m a man on the run--she would know that I’m not worth her heart.
And with the Badlands MC after Virginia, I know we need to keep our heads down more than anything else.
Swearing at myself for being such a fucking mess, I cut through the woods. I look longingly past the creek, beyond the thicket, and catch the faintest glimpse of her stone chimney between the trees.
Knowing that I shouldn’t be staring so longingly at what isn’t mine, I head to the left and blaze a new trail through the mountain trees, heading off my property and onto the land that is the state park.
It doesn’t take long before I find myself at a fork in the trail, the highway in full view down below. I could either keep going left into the woods or wind my way to the base of the trail where there is a small pull-off point, where some cars are parked down below.
I pause, taking a breath as I decide where I want to head next. My stomach is growling and I’m dying for a freshly cooked meal. God knows, the cabin doesn’t have anything besides cans of soup and boxes of macaroni. But the thought of hiking into town and eating alone at the place I spotted earlier, Rosie’s Diner, is hella depressing.
My grumbling stomach is put on the back burner as I notice a commotion below me. There’s a car on the side of the road and a man and woman are screaming at one another.
Watching them, I want to make sure both of them are okay. I’m not sure they are. Fingers are pointed, and their shouts are echoing off the mountain.
“I never wanted them,” he shouts.
“I never did either. We should have left them at the hospital. I can’t do this!”
“Then what do you wanna do?” he screams.
“I want to get fucked up,” she sobs. “I want to run away forever!”
Their words flare something up inside of me. A protective urge begins to burn. I hate the idea of either of these strangers hurting themselves.
They look strung out and high, panicked, and scared, and while my phone doesn’t get reception here, I immediately take a photo of their license plate. I’m not sure why. It’s not like I’m interested in going to the authorities. Right now, my main objective in life is to keep my head down and stay off anyone’s radar.
But they are shouting louder and louder, and when they each rip open the back doors of the car, leaning into the vehicle, I get even more concerned.
“What are we gonna do?” he asks, his voice desperate.
“We can’t be caught with them. We have all that shit in the car and we’re fucking high out of our minds. We’ve just gotta go!”
I begin moving down the mountain, doing my best not to fall. I don’t know these people, but it’s obvious they need help. “Hey,” I shout. “You okay?”
They turn their faces toward the mountain, towards me, their eyes wild and manic.
“Shit,” she screams, pulling something from the car. “Leave them here. That guy will get ‘em. They’ll be better off without us.”
“You sure?” he asks. Now I’m only a dozen yards away. I run faster, trying to catch up to them.
“I’m sure. Just drop them and go.” They drop what they’re carrying and head to the front of the car without looking back. I can’t see what was in their hands, the trees are blocking my view.
“Hey, wait!” I shout, barreling down as fast as I can. But before I can reach them, they are speeding off down the empty highway, not turning back. Not even once.
I’m short of breath as I reach the pull off. The exhaust from their rickety old car billows as they rip away onto the road. I run a hand over my beard, wondering what just happened -- but then a cry echoes in the hollows of my heart.
The cry of a baby.
I jog closer and see, behind a tree, two infant car seats are left alone in the parking lot.
My blood pumps as the shock of what I just witnessed rolls over me. I kneel down before the car seats and see two identical infants buckled up--thank God--and a diaper bag tossed beside them.
My throat goes dry as I look at the crying babies, all alone in the world, left behind on the side of the road. Tears prick my eyes and I may be a man with a rough past, but the reality of what is before me breaks my fucking heart.
They are tiny, I have no clue how old they might be, but they are howling something fierce.
What if I hadn’t come when I did?
I can’t think about that.
“Shhh, hey there little guy,” I whisper, not knowing, actually if they’re boys or girls. They are in white onesies with thick, black hair, and big, dark brown eyes. Tucked in their car seats I find pacifiers and I gingerly press them into their crying mouths.
They instantly begin to suckle, and I exhale, just now realizing I’ve been holding my breath.
I don’t have a working phone on me and I’m miles from town. I don’t even know where I’d take these two abandoned children? The fire department? Bringing these babies to the cabin would freak out my sister; she couldn’t handle the police showing up and questioning me. Anyway, she’d have a goddamn meltdown.
“You’re gonna be okay,” I promise them, a plan formulating in my mind.
I sling the diaper bag over my shoulder and lift a car seat with each of my hands.
Thinking fast, I realize there is only one person who will know what to do with these twins.
I hike up the trail, praying these innocent babies will be safe.
6
Grace
I’m straining peppermint for a new tincture through a fine mesh cloth when there is a pounding on my front door.
Wiping my hands on my apron, I walk to the door. “You there?” a rough voice calls and I’m startled for a moment before a smile begins to spread across my face as I realize just who is out there.
Maybe the stranger in the woods is ready to apologize for being such an idiot when he let me go. God knows it’s what I’ve been dreaming about every night. Him coming here, to me, taking me in his arms, maybe tossing me on my bed.
My cheeks flush with desire, but when I swing open the door, I see his face and immediately know something is wrong.
Very wrong.
His face is lowered, and I follow his gaze to see two infants on my doorstep.
“What in the world?” I ask, covering my mouth in surprise as one of the babies begins to cry. “You’re a father?”
He shakes his head, and I realize his face is pale. “No, I just... shit, I was at the trailhead, and I saw a car pull over,” he tells me. His hand shakes as he runs it runs through his hair. “This couple started screaming, high out of their minds, and then they drove off, saying they didn’t want them anymore. They left the babies on the side of the fucking road.”
“Oh, my God,” I say, covering my mouth with my hand, kneeling on the floor, reaching for the buckles on the crying baby’s car seat. My fingers tremble as I unlatch it and lift the baby from the chair. The baby is so tiny, maybe three months old and hardly dressed. Through the onesie I can tell the diaper is soaked through. I lift the baby to my shoulder, patting its back, trying to soothe it.
“I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have a phone or car, I was just out on a walk and town’s a good five miles away. So, I just came to the safest place I could think.”
My mind is reeling. “They just drove away?”
“Yeah,” he says. “They were shouting, saying the babies would be better off without them.”
“Oh, my God.” The baby on my shoulder has stopped crying, but now I feel tears pricking my own eyes. “Thank goodness you were there.”
He nods, tensing. “But now I have to go, I just needed to get them here, to you,” he says. “Do you know what to do now? Can you call the cops?”
“What do you mean go?” I ask sharply. “You have to stay here. You have to explain what happened.”
“No.” His voice is urgent. “I can’t... hell.” He blows air from his cheeks. “I can’t be here when the cops come.”
I swallow. “Are you in trouble?”
“I can’t risk it... Listen, please make sure the babies are okay. It’s all that matters.”
My eyes meet Grizzly Adams’ gaze. Tears are welling up in them, and I see he is shaken up, he understands show vulnerable these babies are, how awful the story is. My heart expands for him as I see the worry he is carrying. He may look rough and rugged, but at his core, he is a good man, I know that, even if he doesn’t.
“They will want to know where I found them.”
“Say they were left on your doorstep. Just... don’t say I was here. I beg that of you.”
“Should I fear you, of what you’ve done? Are you even safe?” My words are strangled in my throat.
“I’m no danger to you or the babies. I swear it on my life.”
“Why should I trust you? I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s better that way,” he says, picking up the car seats and bringing them into my house. His eyes flit around the warm interior. The windows are open, the summer breeze wafting through the room and the minty smell emitting from the kitchen is soothing.
“I don’t know how I feel about lying for you.”
“It’s wrong of me to ask you to lie. Just do what you need to do to protect the babies and yourself.”
He’s already at the door, making to leave. My heart beats furiously, I want him to stay, but he is dead set on leaving.
And he is a criminal, for all I know he could be wanted for murder.
“Just whatever you do, take care of those babies. They need someone like you.”
“How do you know? You don’t even know me, remember?”
He takes one last, long look around my cottage, the saddest smile I’ve ever seen on his face. “I know enough to know this is a place anyone would be lucky to call home.”
Then he leaves, closing the door, and an emptiness fills my chest in a way I’ve never experienced before. The baby in the car seat is now asleep, and the one on my shoulder has calmed, which is a miracle considering their entire worlds have just shattered against the ground.
They are so beautiful, so absolutely precious. Soft skin and dark hair and somehow calm amidst the storm raging around them.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I whisper to the babe in my arms, walking to the kitchen, trying to steady myself as I reach for my iPhone. Fumbling to unlock it, I press the buttons, calling 9-1-1 as tears begin streaming down my cheeks; as I speak the words no one should ever have to say: “I’d like to report two abandoned infants.”
When the police officers arrive, they ask where the babies came from and I tell them that a man, whose name and location I don’t know, brought them here.
“And what did he tell you?” Officer Holmes asks. He’s a nice man in his late twenties who I’ve met around town a few times.
For a while, Harper and Cherish thought I should ask him out. But deep down, I knew he wasn’t my type. He’s a police officer, and he seems a little too safe for me. Even if I have a respectable enough life, deep down I am messy; my life before this mountain was nothing but heartache and fear.
His partner is Officer Martin, an older man who picks up one of the babies, rocking her in his arm as if she was his grandbaby.
I repeat the information I was given by my Grizzly Adams. “Then he left. I couldn’t follow him because I was calling you and couldn’t leave the babies.”
“And is that the first you’d seen of him?”
I take a deep breath, offering a bottle to the baby girl in my arms. The diaper bag contained a few essentials: a container of formula, two dirty bottles along with one diaper for them to apparently share.
Thankfully, I have a stock of random baby gear from when I babysit for my girlfriends and quickly set up a Pack n Play and pulled out clean baby clothes and cloth diapers. When I changed the babies after the police officers arrived, I discovered one was a boy, one was a girl.
“Not exactly,” I admit honestly. “I’ve seen him in the woods over the last week or so. I assumed he was new in town, but like I said, I don’t even know his name.”
The police officers share a look. “We can visit the nearby homes and question the people living there. In the meantime, we need to wait here with you until the social worker arrives. Shelby Stone. But she is coming from Boise, so she might be a few hours. She was in a meeting when I called.”
“Of course.” I nod, burping the baby. “I know Shelby. She was the foster care liaison when I got my license last year.”
“You have a foster care license?” Officer Martin asks.
“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “About nine months ago, I thought it might be a good fit and a way for me to give back, so I took all the courses and had my application approved. But then my business started taking off
and I decided to focus on that.”
“Are you interested in doing foster care now?” Officer Holmes asks.
I look down at the baby in my arms. “Well, I mean, I could. I would. Shelby has been pestering me for months to open my home. There aren’t any foster parents on the mountain.”
“We know that all too well,” Officer Martin says. “It’s hard to place kids out here.”
“Shelby sounded pretty stressed when we called telling her about the babies,” Officer Holmes says. “Said they would probably have to stay at the social work office tonight because they can never find emergency care for one baby, let alone two.”
I shake my head. “No way is that happening. These babies need a cozy place to sleep. They’ve been through so much today. Let me call Shelby,” I tell them. “These babies aren’t going anywhere tonight.”
7
Bear
I can’t sit still, all I can do is worry about the babies.
The sweet, innocent babies, who were left all alone on the side of the road.
“What is wrong with you?” Virginia asks. “You’ve been pacing all afternoon.”
“Nothing,” I tell her, but inside my heart is stirring like crazy. Why did I leave before the cops came? I’m so fucking scared of police officers that I ran away from that woman--I still don’t know her name--instead of staying and making sure she was okay.
But I don’t know if there is a warrant out for my arrest or if my face is plastered on the most wanted list.
Still, when headlights roll up our dirt driveway I know I made a mistake.
“Who’s that?” Virginia asks, her knees tucked under her. She is planted on the couch, the same place as she always is.
“I don’t know. You stay here, don’t worry.”