Chapter 4
After hours of misery under the sweltering August sun, Lareina decided to find shade and try traveling at night. Walking under the stars brought her a sense of peace, and she told herself the darkness would cloak her from Galloway. She dozed through the day and woke in the late evening as locusts began their buzzing decrescendo. When the first morning light streaked the sky with pink ruffles, she found the shadow of a tall tree and tried to rest.
Fortunately the weather remained clear, but the consequences of previous storms found her in the form of a washed out bridge and one section of a northbound road still deep under water. When she couldn’t continue forward, she backtracked to the nearest intersection and tried a new route. For four nights, she walked over cracked concrete, taking directions from sparsely placed signs pointing her toward Austin.
The sweltering heat of the day made her sleep restless. Most days she couldn’t keep her eyes closed for longer than thirty minutes at a time before Susan’s hopeless face floated into her dreams, desperate and pleading.
Protect the pendant. Warn him.
Then she would sprint through a nightmare. Galloway chased her across an open field, but her feet didn’t carry her any farther away from him. He grew closer and closer while she ran over the grass, trapped on a conveyor belt.
I’ll find you no matter where you run.
She sat up gasping and drenched in sweat as if she’d been running for hours. The leaves above her shimmered in lowering rays of the sun, fluttering against each other in the soft breeze. A symphony of crickets chirped in the grass all around her. Pulling the top of her shirt over her face, she wiped the sweat from her forehead, then slid it back down, making the landscape visible once again. Closing her eyes against the dull ache across her forehead, she coughed to temporarily relieve the feeling of sandpaper in her throat. For the two weeks she’d carried the pendant, her greatest fear had been Galloway finding her. Now that fear intertwined with the possibility of getting too sick to keep moving and dying alone. No one would ever know her story. No one would notice she was gone.
Bracing her hands against the tree’s sturdy trunk, she pushed herself to her feet, scooped up her bag, and limped forward on blistered feet, determined to reach civilization. She hadn’t seen a house, a person, or even a dog for three days. Cotton drifted lazily on the breeze. A tree branch creaked.
Lareina resolved to take better care of herself: eight hours of sleep, three meals a day, the most nutritious food she could find. She scanned the landscape for her usual foraging suspects: wild berry bushes, fruit trees, dandelions. None appeared on either side of the crumbling road she followed.
The familiar sound of rushing water caught her attention. She rubbed her watery eyes and examined the road ahead, fearing more flood damage, but an unbroken ribbon of concrete stretched ahead of her as far as she could see.
Relieved to find a functioning bridge, she paused to watch the swollen creek swoosh along below her like a slow-moving train. Large rocks obstructed the flow in places, slowing the water down and causing it to foam as it lapped over the obstacles. Starvation or fever? Which would be worse? Did she have a choice? She flattened the back of her hand against her forehead, but it didn’t feel any warmer than usual.
Splunk . . . splunk . . . splunk.
Waist-high grass swayed in the breeze as far as she could see on both sides of the creek. Wispy clouds turned orange against the hazy blue of a late evening sky.
Splunk . . . splunk.
The unfamiliar sound took a moment to register in her tired mind. An auditory trick? An echo? She scanned the path of the creek looking for jumping fish, but instead glimpsed a rock fling itself out of the grass and into the water with a splunk. She waded into the grass to investigate.
Not far from the bridge, one rock and then another splashed into the muddy water. Rubbing her forehead, she walked forward.
Splunk . . . splunk . . . splunk . . . splunk.
A small hand clutching a rock let go at the top of the arch, sending it into the creek. One more step and the hand attached to an arm, and finally a little girl, not yet tall enough to see over the grass that swayed around her. Even with footsteps crunching toward her, the girl remained too preoccupied with her activity to notice.
“Hello,” Lareina said when she stood four steps away.
“Hi,” the girl replied, calmly turning toward her.
A child estimated to be two years old was discovered walking around a pasture. The words of the article haunted her. Had she been afraid? Had she been crying when they found her? Or had she been oblivious like this little girl, sure someone would come along to take her home.
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?”
“I’m lost.” The little girl suddenly sounded a bit frightened as if she just remembered.
Hunching down on one knee, Lareina positioned herself at eye level with the child. Helping the little girl could mean a day of lost travel, and the risk of Galloway catching up with her. She let her eyes follow the creek off into the distance, then brought them back to the whimpering child. Just walk away, she told herself. She’s probably been abandoned out here, and you can’t take care of her.
As she stood, the words on the initial document in her file flashed through her mind.
Child’s Name: Lareina (last name unknown)
Birthdate: Spring of ’73 (estimated)
Status: Abandoned at two years of age. No success locating the parents. No note left with the child. No evidence the child will ever be reclaimed.
She tried not to, but she always pictured her parents somewhere warm and sunny, swaying in a hammock and sipping lemonade without her. How could they just leave me? That question had repeated in her mind for as long as she could remember. The two people who were supposed to love her more than anything in the world had left her to fend for herself. With no further leads in her file and nowhere to go, she had remained in San Antonio for two years.
Never had she shared her story with anyone else. They would make fun of her. They would blame her. It was her own weakness allowing herself to be hurt by parents she’d never met and her own failure that they didn’t love her. The loneliness felt like a stack of bricks on her chest, like a blanket pulled away on the coldest winter day, like an eternal field of grass she couldn’t see past.
She rested her left knee on the ground once more. “What’s your name?”
“Abbie,” the girl whispered.
“My name is Rochelle. Come on, I’ll help you find your family.”
She extended her hand and Abbie grasped it tightly. The amount of trust the child displayed surprised her. She doesn’t know any better, she reminded herself, then wondered if she had trusted her rescuer long ago.
Hand in hand through fading daylight, they walked down a path of trampled grass that the child must have followed. Abbie chattered away, telling stories about her parents and sisters. Nodding and responding when the girl looked up, Lareina silently prayed that whoever they found wanted their child back. She wanted Abbie to have time to make more happy memories, memories that she would be old enough to remember.
Thousands of fireflies twinkled as they hovered over the grass. All shades of blue faded from the sky and stars glowed overhead.
A firefly brushed against Abbie’s cheek and she giggled. “If you catch one and it lights up in your hand, you get to make a wish.”
Lareina smiled despite the pulsing twinge behind her eyes. “That sounds pretty neat. Have you ever caught one?”
Abbie held her hand tighter and swung their arms up and back as she skipped along. “One time. I wished for a kitten, and the next day my sister Amy found four kittens under our porch.”
“Whoa, you wished for one and got four. You must be magic.”
She reached out and swiped a firefly from the air while Abbie talked about her kittens. If only magic did exist. In the cool night air with stars shining above and firefly lights drifting all around, she tried to b
elieve in magic, in wishes, in hope for something better. A soft glow emanated from inside her loosely clenched fist. I wish I didn’t have to run alone. She opened her hand and a dimming glow floated off through the darkness, surged bright one more time, then vanished into the glittering grass.
The field opened onto a muddy dirt road with traces of gravel down the middle. “I know where we are,” Abbie squealed. “My house is this way.” She took off quickly, skipping down the road and pulling her new companion along behind her. They only walked for a few minutes before the outline of a small, cabin-like blue house appeared in the miles of flat darkness. Bright lights glowed in the two front windows framed by white shutters and window boxes displaying blooming flowers.
“There she is,” a small, high-pitched voice yelled from somewhere ahead. The shadowy silhouettes, one tall and two much shorter, moved down the front walk toward them.
Abbie pulled Lareina up to the house. A woman with frizzled brown hair wearing a yellow sundress watched them approach Two little girls, who appeared to be about five and seven years old, hid behind their mother, peering out curiously at the stranger holding their sister’s hand.
Suddenly feeling self-conscious about her appearance, Lareina smoothed her hair away from her face. Over the past four days, she hadn’t paid much attention to cleanliness besides brushing her teeth and occasionally washing her face. Her hope had been to arrive in Austin within two or three days, but as much as she hated to admit it, after all of the backtracking and searching for a way around swollen waterways, she was hopelessly lost.
The little girl ran to her mother, who scooped her up and held her tight. “Abbie Mae, don’t you ever wander off and scare me like this again.”
She whispered something in her mother’s ear and the woman turned back to the unkempt teenager who had brought her daughter home.
“Thank you. We were frantic looking for her.” The woman had a warm, comforting voice, the kind of voice Lareina imagined her own mother would have.
“It was no problem.”
“My name is Sarah, this is Annie and Amy, and I guess you’ve already met Abbie.”
She smiled. “It’s nice to meet all of you. I’m Rochelle.”
“You shouldn’t be out here all by yourself.” Sarah’s concern showed in the creases of her forehead and the preoccupied frown forming on her lips. She didn’t see an orphan, a thief, or a fugitive standing in front of her, but a little girl traveling through the dangers of darkness alone.
“I’m actually on my way to Austin to meet my family.” The lie was much more acceptable than the truth.
“We haven’t had supper yet. Why don’t you come on in and eat with us,” Sarah offered.
“I should really keep moving.” Although spoken politely, the words came out flat. Hunger gnawed at the ever-growing void in her ribcage. The promise of food triumphed over any fear of judgment or determination to reach the city by morning.
“Nonsense, you look half-starved and exhausted, plus it’s awfully dangerous around here at night. Why don’t you spend the night here and start out again in the morning?”
Clearly Sarah wouldn’t take no for an answer unless Lareina could come up with a more urgent reason requiring her to travel at night. She tried to formulate a story of a sick grandpa or a need to deliver money to save her starving siblings, but her headache weakened her resolve. She nodded and allowed Sarah to usher her into the little house, which felt refreshingly cool.
Although she offered more than once, Sarah refused any help with preparing dinner. Instead Lareina sat at the table and watched the girls clothe their dolls in lacy, velvet dresses. She rested her elbow on the table and used her hand to support her chin. Sarah lit a fire in the old stove, dumped two jars of liquid into a pot, and stirred while it heated. The entire time, she talked about the floods, her garden, and her husband, who had traveled to the city to trade for supplies.
“How far is Austin from here?”
“At least half a day of walking if you know all the trails.” Sarah glanced back at the table. “Are you all right, honey? You look awfully pale.”
“I have a bad headache. I might be getting sick.” Her stomach twisted with the thought that she might have exposed such kind people to something terrible like the fever.
Sarah didn’t recoil or ask her guest to leave. Instead, she crossed the room and rested a cold hand against her forehead. “Well, you aren’t running a fever—that’s a good sign. You might have a cold, but I bet you just need a good meal and some rest.”
The reassuring words calmed her fears but couldn’t relieve the aching that streaked across her temples. With the necessity of pretending removed, she rested her head on her arms and closed her eyes. What would I do if I were alone in a field right now? What if I were running from Galloway? The questions pounded in her head despite every attempt to push them away.
Chapter 5
After dinner, which was some of the best food Lareina had eaten in months, the girls disappeared into another room. Sarah walked over to the sink, pushed the faucet up, and let water surge into a large pot. It echoed with a metallic ring as if someone struck a bell. “Does your head feel any better?”
“I can barely tell it even hurt.” She could still feel a dull ache behind her eyes, but the throbbing had subsided. “You were right. I guess I was just hungry.”
Sarah carried the full pot over to the stove and hoisted it onto a burner, then returned to the sink and began to fill another one. “You just stay right there and rest. I can tell you aren’t completely well yet. I’ll have this water heated up for your bath in a little while.”
“You don’t have to go through the extra work for me, Sarah. It’s getting late and I don’t want to keep you up.” She needed Sarah to go to sleep so she could sneak out and keep walking.
“Oh honey, I have three kids under the age of eight. I don’t usually get much sleep.” She laughed. “How long has it been since you’ve seen your parents?”
Watching Sarah walk back and forth from the sink, to the stove, to the little bathroom off the kitchen provided time to fabricate the perfect story. “About a year. I was staying in San Antonio with my grandma for a while, but now my cousin is going to stay with her.”
“It must be difficult to have so many miles between your family like that.”
“Oh, it is. No matter where I am, I always miss someone.” Finally, Sarah led her into the bathroom where a full tub of water waited. “Take your time.” She placed some towels on the counter and left the room.
In less than a minute, Lareina removed her stiff clothes and sank into the warm water that seemed to simultaneously support and engulf her. Minutes passed and she remained still, letting the water lap against her chin, the pendant shifting slightly against her chest. Reaching for the oddly shaped necklace, she cringed with the memory of how it had become hers.
Three weeks earlier she had been standing in the market surveying a bakery cart from which she hoped to snatch a loaf of bread.
“Excuse me.” The voice behind her exuded confidence and contained a musical quality like wind chimes in a soft breeze. “Could you help me find someone I’m looking for? I’ll pay you.”
The girl wore black slacks and a blazer with her blond hair twisted back into a bun and pale skin accustomed to shelter. She would pay three hundred dollars to the person who helped her find a Dr. Iverson, an old friend of her father’s. She hadn’t seen him in three years, but she had to ask him a question.
Three hundred dollars. Enough money to buy food for a year, to pay for a hotel room and take dozens of warm showers, to buy new shoes that didn’t pinch her toes. Lareina knew her way around the city better than she knew her own shadow and eagerly agreed to what sounded like the easiest money she would ever make.
The girl introduced herself as Susan Andrews with a slight hesitation and a pitch that rose when it should have fallen. She was lying about something, but everyone lied about little things.
Every m
orning the two of them met outside of Susan’s hotel and they worked to find the home of the elusive Dr. Iverson. Within a year’s time he had moved from a mansion in a gated neighborhood, to a smaller house outside of San Antonio, to a hotel room on the south side of the city, to an apartment at the center of San Antonio. Lareina became frustrated after the third building they approached, only to find out the doctor didn’t live there anymore. She herself was homeless and didn’t move that much. Was this doctor involved in something illegal? Selling guns to criminals? Writing false prescriptions? Scamming people through his medical practice? By the fourth day of searching, she wanted five hundred dollars to cover any risks.
“It’s not what you think,” Susan explained. She looped her finger through a chain on her neck and slipped the pendant from inside her shirt. “This is what I have to talk to him about.”
Lareina barely glanced at the little black triangle that looked like plastic children’s jewelry. “What is it?”
Susan’s eyes darted up and down the sidewalk in front of the crumbling apartment building, Dr. Iverson’s last known address. She squeezed the pendant against her palm before it vanished beneath her shirt. “That’s what I have to find out. You have to trust me that it’s important.”
Together they walked up to the front of the building and into a long hallway of doors. They found apartment 28B at the end of the hallway. Susan knocked once and the door slid into the room. She gasped and froze with her hand still poised to knock. The color drained from her cheeks, leaving her freckles pronounced like drops of ink sprinkled across new snow.
Taking a step forward, Lareina peered around the doorframe. A few feet in front of them, a large red splotch stained the carpet.
“We have to get out of here now,” Susan whispered before rushing back down the hall. In a narrow alley, she slumped against a wall and slid to the ground. “It’s too late.” She shivered in a tiny huddle with her arms wrapped around her knees. “It’s too late.”
Hope for the Best Page 4