The Color of Heaven Series [03] The Color of Hope

by Julianne MacLean

  Resting my elbow on the side door, I cupped my forehead in a hand. “Why can’t we just go home? I want to go home!”

  A muscle twitched at her jaw and she gripped the steering wheel tight in both fists. “You think I don’t want that? I’m at the end of my rope, here, Nadia, with sixteen bucks to my name. If you want to yell at someone, yell at your deadbeat father.”

  “But he’s not here!” I sobbed.

  “Exactly!” For a long moment she paused, then spoke in a calmer voice. “But I’m here, and I’m doing the best I can, so don’t give me any more grief. I have sleeping bags in the trunk, so we’ll spend the night in the car, in the rest stop parking lot. Just pretend like we’re camping.”

  She drove faster down the freeway while I put my feet up on the dash and sat back in angry silence.

  Chapter Six

  I’M NOT SURE what time it was when I was startled awake by an aggressive pounding on the hood of the car. Curled up on my side in the back seat, I sat up and squinted into a blinding light aimed at my face.

  “What the hell do you want!” my mother screamed.

  Confused and disoriented, I shaded my eyes with the back of my hand. Was it a cop checking on us? I wondered.

  Mom sat up in the front seat and shouted at the man at her window. “Get the hell away!”

  A burning sensation exploded in my belly as I realized the man was no cop, and my mom was behaving like a rabid dog backed into a corner. All my muscles tensed and I screamed when a second man rapped on the window by my head.

  “Mom!” I cried.

  “Got any money?” the man asked me. Then he rattled the door handle, trying to force it open. Thank God it was locked.

  Mom quickly turned the key in the ignition and burned rubber to get us out of there. The tires squealed, and I’m sure we left twenty feet of skid marks.

  I was crying uncontrollably by the time we pulled out of the parking lot onto the freeway. “Who were they?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Mom replied. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel as she checked the rear-view mirror.

  Still in the back seat, I tossed the sleeping bag aside and tried to take deep breaths, to stop crying and calm my racing heart.

  “That was scary,” I said. “I don’t want to go back there.”

  “We won’t.”

  I’m pretty sure she was speeding. She must have been going at least eighty miles an hour.

  That’s when I heard the wail of a siren, and turned to look out the back window at a set of red and blue flashing lights behind us.

  Chapter Seven

  “LICENSE AND REGISTRATION please,” the police officer said when Mom rolled down the window.

  He shone his flashlight into the back seat and aimed it at my face. Like before, I squinted and held my hand up to block the blinding ray of light that stung my eyes.

  “Is that your daughter?” the cop asked.

  “Yes.” Mom fished through her wallet for her licence. I noticed her hands, with those long red painted fingernails, were trembling. The cop took the light off me and used it to examine the licence she passed to him.

  I felt nauseous by then, like I was going to throw up. I just wanted to go home.

  “Do you still live at this address?” the cop asked.

  Mom handed him the vehicle permit, which she’d retrieved from the glove compartment. “Not exactly,” she replied. “We got evicted yesterday. We stayed in a motel last night, but I don’t get paid until Friday, so that’s why we were camping out in the car. We were at the rest top back there, but a couple of suspicious looking characters banged on the window and asked us for money. That’s why I was speeding. I was really freaked out. I’m still freaked out.”

  I felt frozen with fear in the back seat, convinced the cop was going to haul us off to jail and lock us up for life.

  “You don’t have anywhere to stay tonight?” he asked. “No family or friends to take you in?”

  “No. It’s just me and my daughter.”

  He leaned down to look at me. “You okay back there?”

  Terror gripped me. I couldn’t speak. All I could do was nod my head quickly up and down.

  The cop handed my mother’s licence and vehicle permit back to her. “You could try the homeless shelter, but you have to get there early.”

  Mom shook her head. “I wouldn’t feel safe there.”

  He leaned down to look at me again. “Where do you go to school?”

  My heart pounded thunderously in my ears, but somehow I managed to make my tongue work, and told him what grade I was in, and the name of my school.

  “I’ll get her there on time tomorrow,” Mom assured him, “and we’ll be fine as soon as I get paid. I already have a lead on a new apartment. Someone at work...”

  I suspected she was making that up, because she hadn’t mentioned that to me.

  “This is just a rough patch we’re going through right now,” she added.

  The police officer was quiet for a minute.

  “All right,” he said at last. “I’m going to let you off the hook with a warning this time. No more speeding. You got that? And we’ll check out those suspicious looking characters you mentioned. Drive safely, now.” He returned to his paddy wagon while Mom turned the key in the ignition.

  “Jesus,” she said. “He didn’t even call it in or check my license. I guess it’s our lucky day, because I really can’t afford to pay a speeding ticket right now.”

  She pulled onto the road and drove slowly for at least a mile, nervously checking her rear view mirror every few seconds, just in case the officer changed his mind about letting us go.

  Sure, I thought. What a lucky day.

  Chapter Eight

  PAYDAY ON FRIDAY was like waking up Christmas morning. We’d slept in the car in a different parking lot each night, and thankfully Mom didn’t get pulled over again for speeding.

  As soon as she deposited her check, she picked me up after school and we searched through the classifieds together, looking for a cheap place to live. Unfortunately, we couldn’t view anything until Saturday. Mom wanted to save her entire paycheck for a down payment and not blow it on a motel room, so we decided to spend one more night in the car.

  Christmas would have to wait until tomorrow.

  She went back to work for the evening, and I went to the mall.

  Later, when she finished her shift, I met her at the hotel service entrance. If good luck was waiting to strike, that wasn’t to be the moment, because just as we were walking to her car, it began to snow.

  “Mom,” I said. “We’re going to freeze. I can’t do this again. I’ll die.”

  “Oh, don’t be such a drama queen,” she replied as she unlocked the car door and climbed in. She leaned across to unlock my side, and I got in beside her.

  There were pop cans and food wrappers all over the floor. I had to kick them aside.

  “You’re not going to die,” Mom said. “Think about it. People camp in tents on the way up Mount Everest where it’s always snowing and there’s hardly any oxygen.”

  “And people die!” I argued. “There are books written about it and climbers end up on Oprah telling about how they lost all their fingers!”

  Mom turned the key in the ignition, but nothing happened. A few dashboard lights briefly flickered on, but otherwise, there was just a clicking sound. She tried again and again, but there didn’t seem to be any power in the battery or electrical systems.

  Before I had a chance to ask what was wrong, Mom screamed, “No! Dammit!” She started slapping the steering wheel and kicking the pedals.

  “Mom, stop!” I pleaded, because I couldn’t take it if she lost her mind and took off. Then what would I do?

  After uttering a few choice curse words – the ones she always punished me for saying out loud – she tipped her head forward onto the steering wheel and shut her eyes.

  “What else, God?” she asked. “What else do you want to throw at me this
week?”

  I was shaken and frightened, and had a lump in my throat the size of a boiled egg, but I was determined not to cry.

  “We made it this far,” I said. “I’m sure we can make it to tomorrow.”

  She leaned back in the seat and blinked up at the roof. “But it’s snowing.”

  “So?” I replied. “People climb Everest you know. And it’s really cold at the top, but they say the summit’s great.”

  I would have done anything, said anything, to make her love me enough not to leave.

  She turned her head to look at me, and the defeat I saw in those eyes filled me with dread. It was like a kick in the stomach, but then she smiled, and a wave of relief washed over me.

  “I have an idea,” she said, “but I’m going to need you to stay here for a bit.”

  “Where are you going?” My heart pounded as I watched her pull her car keys from the ignition and drop them into her purse.

  Please don’t go.

  She dug around in her purse for something, then withdrew a tube of lipstick, lowered the mirrored visor, and slid some color onto her lips. It was candy apple red.

  “There’s a room on the tenth floor of the hotel,” she said. “It was trashed the other day. The TV screen was smashed and there were some holes punched in the wall. No one’s staying there until they get it fixed up, which won’t happen until Monday. I think I can get us in there.”

  “Are you allowed to do that?” I asked tremulously.

  “Not really,” she replied, “but who’s going to notice or care? The manager takes weekends off, and I’m pretty sure I can sweet-talk the desk clerk.”

  “Mom...” I was worried about what she might do to get that key.

  “Relax,” she assured me. “He’s a really nice guy with a heart of gold. I’m going to tell him the truth about what we’ve been through this week. I’m sure he’ll help us out. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  Ten minutes. I was pretty sure I could survive that.

  Chapter Nine

  TEN MINUTES LATER, a blanket of icy snow had covered the windshield and I could hardly see out. I felt trapped and scared, and started planning what I would do if Mom didn’t come back.

  If she never came back.

  But surely that wouldn’t happen, I told myself over and over. She didn’t have much money. She wouldn’t leave her car behind.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin when a knock rapped at my window.

  I rolled it down, and there stood my mother with her arms folded across her chest to keep warm in what now appeared to be a raging blizzard. Her bleached blonde hair blew wildly in all directions.

  But she looked happy.

  “Good news,” she said with a smile. “Our luck has changed. I got the key to the room. Grab your stuff. We’ll go in the back door and take the service elevator up. Dennis said no one will bother us. He’s on for a twelve-hour shift and he’ll call up if there are any problems.”

  “You’re sure?” I asked before I reached for my bag. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

  “It’s fine,” she cheerfully replied. “I promise. All the big wigs are off duty tonight. We just won’t have a TV, that’s all.”

  I reached for my bag. “I don’t care about that. I just want a warm bed.”

  “You got it. Now hurry up. Let’s go. I’m freezing out here.”

  Half an hour later, I was wallowing in the bliss of a warm bath, followed by the pleasant sensation of a hair dryer blowing my long locks around, while I sat forward on the toilet with my head between my legs.

  Ah, sweet luxury. I made a vow never to take hot running water and electricity for granted again. It’s a miracle in itself. Who invented and perfected the hair dryer? I wondered that night, when I felt clean and safe for the first time in days.

  Thank you Dennis, whoever you were. It was a good night.

  I just wish that brief stroke of luck could have lasted a little longer.

  Chapter Ten

  MOM WOKE ME at eight the next morning with a gentle shake. “You don’t have to get up,” she whispered. “I’m going outside to get a boost from Dennis, then I’m going to see an apartment. It’s a monthly rental, so we should be able to move in today if we get it. Just stay here and sleep in. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  I nodded groggily and fell back asleep.

  I’m not sure what time it was when I woke again to the sound of a knock at the door. Assuming it was Mom, I rubbed my eyes and took my time tossing the covers aside and shuffling across the patterned carpet.

  At least I had the sense to look through the peephole before I opened the door, for there in the hallway – their shapes oddly skewed by the tiny round lense in the door – were two uniformed police officers.

  Panic shot into me. Oh God. Where was Mom? What was I supposed to do?

  I stood in front of the door, breathing hard, hoping and praying they would leave, but another knock sounded and I took an anxious step back.

  With eyes wide as saucers, I stared at the security chain and wished I had set it in place after Mom left. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest decision I ever made, but I darted forward and quietly inserted the little knob into the track and slid it across.

  My hands shook, however, and the chain rattled into place.

  Bang, bang, bang!

  “This is the police. Open the door.”

  I peered through the hole again and gulped down a breath when I saw one of the officers draw his weapon, while the other inserted a key into the lock.

  This isn’t happening, I thought. Oh, God, are they going to shoot me?

  The lock clicked, the door opened, and I stupidly launched my body forward and pushed the door shut again. “My mom’s not here!” I shouted. “But she works here. She’ll be back soon.”

  There was a pause. “What do you mean, ‘your mother works here’? Who is she? What does she do?”

  “Her name is Rhonda Carmichael and she’s a maid!”

  “What’s your name?” the cop asked.

  “Nadia.” I paused. “I’m sorry. We had nowhere else to go! It was snowing last night, so my mom asked for a key. We didn’t think it would matter!”

  I heard the sound of their voices quietly discussing something. Rising up on my tiptoes, I peered through the peephole again.

  The taller officer holstered his weapon, bowed his head, and put his hands on his hips in a relaxed fashion.

  “You’re not in any trouble, Nadia. All you need to do is open the door. We’re here because there was a report of some noise in the room this morning, and the last people to stay in there did some damage. We’re just here to check it out.”

  I swallowed uncomfortably over the knot of panic that was still boiling in my belly.

  “Everything’s going to be fine,” the cop said. “We just want to make sure the room is safe and you’re okay. So please open the door.”

  I paused to take a deep breath and calm myself. Then I reached out, slid the security chain back across the track, and let the officers in.

  It was only in that moment that I realized I was wearing my flannel pyjamas, and I hadn’t yet brushed my teeth.

  The two cops gave me a once-over, then their expressions relaxed.

  “Where did you say your mom was?” one of them asked.

  She’s out looking for an apartment because we need a place to live.” I gestured toward the unmade bed and my small open suitcase on the chair. “Obviously.”

  The cop nodded. “I see. There’s no one else in here with you?”

  “No.”

  “Mind if we check it out?”

  I gestured again with my hand. “Go ahead.”

  One officer kept an eye on me while the other checked the closet, the bathroom, and under the bed.

  “Did your mom have permission for you to be in here last night?”

  My voice shook. “I don’t really know.”

  The other cop came out of the bathroom. “It’s all clear, but we’ll
have to call the manager.”

  “I thought he was off duty for the weekend,” I replied.

  “He came in because someone called to let him know there was some unauthorized activity in here.”

  “Is it that big of a deal?” I asked.

  “Yeah. This was a crime scene up until yesterday.”

  My head drew back in surprise. “Was there like... yellow tape on the door, and everything?”

  “Yup,” the cop said.

  “Oh.” As I thought about it, I wasn’t surprised that Mom had neglected to mention that to me last night. She would have known I’d be afraid to sleep here.

  Just then, she walked into the room. “What’s going on?” she asked with a frown.

  “Mom!” I dashed into her arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do.”

  She hugged me. “It’s okay, Nadia.”

  No one said anything for a long moment, then the taller cop sauntered forward. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you and your daughter are going to have to come with us downstairs. The manager will want to see you.”

  I was still clinging to my mother with a death grip, and couldn’t pull myself away from the heavy rise and fall of her chest beneath my cheek as she sighed.

  “Fine,” she said, “but can you give us a few minutes to pack up? My daughter needs to get dressed.”

  “You’ve got five minutes.”

  I went to rifle through my small open suitcase. “Did you get the apartment?” I asked her as I took some clothes with me to the bathroom.

  “No,” she replied. “It was rented only minutes before I got there.”

  My heart sank. If only the car hadn’t needed a boost.

  Half an hour later, what we’d believed to be a stroke of luck the night before turned out to be the biggest setback of the week.

  Mom was fired from her job, and we were rudely escorted from the building.

  Chapter Eleven

  “AT LEAST WE didn’t end up in jail,” Mom said to her father from a phone booth somewhere in Kansas a few days later.

  She had collected her vacation pay and an extra week’s salary that was held back when she first started at the hotel, and we sold all the furniture from the storage unit, so we had enough cash to make it across the country and stay in cheap motels along the way.