by Sarah Gai
“Okay, well, keep it in mind,” Pastor Graham said. He pulled up in front of the twins’ house and Autumn and Eric got out of the car. “Have fun guys.”
“Thanks for the ride,” Autumn politely called out.
“See ya later, Grandpa,” Eric waved. Eric turned to Autumn as Pastor Graham pulled away.
“Sorry about that,” he apologized.
“He meant well,” Autumn smiled and they started up the driveway towards the twins’ house.
They had a wonderful afternoon swimming with the twins. Autumn and Eric headed back toward their homes, smelling of chlorine and sunscreen, just as the sun was setting.
Autumn’s new job was great; Mr. Granger was a kind, old man who insisted Autumn have the weekends free for fun, church, and the like. Autumn was not about to turn that down.
As they walked, Eric’s fingers caught Autumn’s, tucking them into his. Autumn kept her gaze on the ground, smiling. It wasn’t the first time over the past week Eric did this and she hoped it wasn’t the last either.
“You know, I’m really glad I got into trouble,” Eric confessed, glancing at her shyly all of a sudden.
“Really?” Autumn asked, looking puzzled.
“Yeah. I got to meet you,” he smiled over at her. “I mean, I have met a lot of really nice people, but I’m really glad that you’re here.”
“Me too. Actually, this has been the best summer ever,” Autumn admitted. She had loved every summer Liam brought her back to Pennsylvania, but they seemed bland in comparison to this one. Eric had stepped out of nowhere and turned her gray existence into shades of multi-colored light.
They turned the bend in the road that passed by the campsite to see Liam standing there, his hands on his hips. His face was crimson from drinking and his eyes squinted in anger. He strode purposefully toward Autumn, grabbing her roughly by the arm.
“So this is who you’ve been hanging around whenever I’m out of sight,” he roared, his breath thick with the stench of hard liquor. “What do you think you’re doing, Autumn—”
“Hey,” Eric bellowed, ripping her arm free from her father’s vice-like grip. “We were just at the pool. You don’t need to manhandle her like that!”
“You don’t own a suit,” Liam instigated, ignoring the boy next to his daughter, his gaze burrowing into her.
“I borrowed one from Meg,” Autumn replied, her voice quivering in fear.
Liam exploded in anger, “What have I told you about accepting charity?” Spittle flew from his mouth covering her face.
“She didn’t do anything wrong!” Eric yelled, trying to put himself between Liam and Autumn.
Liam let go of Autumn and shoved Eric out of the way. “First, you manipulate Ava into giving us free food and now you’re taking clothes from that girl? What else are you doing, Autumn?”
“I was just hungry dad.”
“We buy groceries!”
“You drink all of the damn money away!” Autumn did not hold back as she wretched at him.
“You don’t know what I’ve been through!” he bellowed. “You have no idea how hard it is for me to put bread on the table, you ungrateful little—” Liam lost it and backhanded Autumn across the face.
Autumn rose a protective hand ready for the next blow when out of her peripheral vision she saw Eric’s fist slam into her father’s face. Autumn stood shocked, eyes bulging as she watched in slow motion as Liam fell onto his back, his head banging against the ground.
Suddenly, everything sped up again in real time. Eric screamed irately at Liam,“Don’t you ever hit her again asshole or I swear it will be your last breath!” Eric stood above Autumn’s father, who lay powerless on the ground. With a final solid kick, Eric turned and stared at her.
Her father never hit her in front of another person. Now, shame washed over her knowing what Eric witnessed. He saw a part of her life she never wanted him, or anyone, to ever see.
“Run, Autumn!” he yelled, grabbing Autumn by the hand and hightailing for Pastor Graham’s house. They ran through the woods, brush hitting and scraping at their legs as they picked up their pace. They could hear Liam, whom was back on his feet and taking up the chase, yelling obscenities behind them.
Autumn turned her head to look behind them—Liam was swerving drunkenly, unable to catch up. The cows looked at them askance as they ran past the field and up toward the house.
Bursting noisily through the front door, Mrs. Brooks came running out of the kitchen toward the back of the house. “Why are we slamming doors? What’s with all of the ruckus?”
“Autumn’s…father,” Eric breathlessly tried to explain as Pastor Graham appeared from the sitting room, “he…he hit her. If I didn’t get her out of there, I was afraid of what I might do,” he growled.
Pastor Graham placed an arm on Autumn’s shoulder. Autumn kept her arms crossed in front of her chest, one side of her face still burning, bright red. She wished she had the ability to melt into the floor.
“Come in and have a seat,” Pastor Graham’s voice was soft and concerned. He ushered Autumn into the sitting room. “I’ll be right back,” he reassured her before leaving the room. The incensed closing of the front door signified he vacated the house.
“I’ll fix some tea,” Mrs. Brooks warmly said.
Autumn sat down with Eric wedged beside her on the couch, placing his hand on her back to rub it reassuringly. But before Autumn knew it, Eric pulled her into his lap. She embraced his comforting gesture and threw her arms around his shoulders, nestling her head tight into his neck. Eric’s pulse was quickened and sure, giving Autumn the comfort she longed for and the security she craved.
A few minutes later, Pastor Graham re-entered the room, dabbing the sweat from his forehead as he took a seat across from them.
“He won’t be coming back here tonight, so you can rest assured,” he promised. “Autumn, has your father hurt you before?”
Her throat tightened as a hot tear slid down her cheek. She was speechless; all she could do was nod, unable to look his way.
“Why haven’t you told anyone?” Eric asked.
“Because he would kill me. He threatened to on more than a few occasions and I believe him,” Autumn whispered, lifting her head to peer up at him.
“Do you want us to contact the authorities, Autumn?” Pastor Graham inquired, concern etched upon his face.
“No, no,” Autumn begged, her head whipping to the side and her eyes large and pleading. She may not like her father, but he was all she had.
“You need to get help, Autumn,” Eric stated. “You can’t live like this.”
Autumn felt his body tense, wild with surpassed anger. “I can and I have to,” Autumn defied. “I don’t have anyone else.”
“You have us,” Eric stated.
Autumn smiled sadly. “You’re going back to Memphis at the end of the summer.”
“Come with me,” he pleaded.
Autumn’s heart exploded—who was this boy? He barely knew her, yet he was offering her a home. Autumn might be uneducated, but she was not stupid. They were young and, surely, he would tire of her soon enough; then where would she be?
“I’m under eighteen.” Autumn so badly wanted to say yes, but she could not. “Besides, I doubt he will hurt me again after the warning you just handed to him,” she reassured. It was a lie, but Eric didn’t know that.
Pastor Graham was silently watching their exchange. He cleared his throat, “Well, Autumn, we can’t force you to go against your father, but if you ever need to get out, please, let us know. We will do whatever it takes. My home is always open to you.”
“Thank you,” Autumn sincerely acknowledged.
Pastor Graham walked to the shelves. “I know I’ve never asked if you hold any beliefs about religion,” he began.
“I don’t believe in anything,” Autumn replied.
“At least take this,” he handed her a white, leather-bound Bible, its pages edged with gold. Autumn took it. “Just see i
f you can’t find something that speaks to you.”
“Thank you,” Autumn said gratefully.
“I don’t know God’s plan for you my dear, but I know he has one. Ask him to show it to you and he will.” With that, Pastor Graham turned and left the room.
Autumn was so tired from the last few hours’ events that when Mrs. Brooks asked what she would like for dinner, Autumn replied she just wanted to go to bed. Saying goodnight to Eric, she rose from his lap, the heat from his body fleeing, replaced with the cold, lonely feeling Autumn was accustomed to. She could not bring herself to look back at him as Mrs. Brooks led her to one of the spare rooms.
Climbing beneath the covers, she didn’t even have time to marvel and appreciate how soft the bed was as sleep claimed her within seconds.
When she returned to her camp the next morning after leaving a note of thanks on the hallway side table, her father was absent and the camp quiet.
She crawled into the tent, zipping the flap closed. Taking out the Bible Pastor Graham gave her, she began to flip through the pages, trying to find something that spoke to her, as the pastor suggested.
“But what do you do when it seems like God is silent?” Autumn whispered to herself.
Autumn - August 2010
Liam had not spoken to Autumn in weeks. It was a nice reprieve, one she was thankful for. They still drove together to work and, similar to every other day after he clocked out, Liam would drive back to the bar, get out, and not speak to her, leaving Autumn to go her own way.
Autumn was true to her word and pocketed some of her earnings to buy new undergarments and some decent clothes from the second-hand store. Miss Ava insisted she simply needed more and slipped extra pieces of clothing and toiletries into the bag she had by the back kitchen door of the B&B, along with food and some extra money. Autumn was grateful, but she could not take the money so she left it in the bag. She knew she should give the extras back, too, but she really truly needed them. She promised herself that one day, when she was able to, she would pay Ava back for every last favor.
“So what are the plans for this week?” Eric asked the group. They were at Ava’s and the place was packed with tourists. The twins and Autumn looked at each other sadly.
“Don’t you know?” Aiden asked.
“Know what?”
“It’s the end of picking season,” Meg gloomily admitted.
“I leave at the end of this week,” Autumn finished, her heart heavy with the sad realization. This had been the best summer in Ligonier yet.
“You can’t go yet,” Eric exclaimed. “I’ll still be here until September at least.”
“We have to go now before all the jobs are taken for the fall harvest in New York.”
Ava entered at that moment with their food. She had a bright red bandanna wrapped around her hair like Rosie the Riveter and she looked frazzled.
“Here you go kids,” she uttered. “This is on the house.”
“Thanks, Ava.” Meg tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. As the years passed, the twins’ hair dulled some, going from bright orange to a deep shade of auburn. It suited them as their adult years grew closer.
“You’re the best, Ava.” Aiden grinned as he began to dig in to his huge stack of pancakes.
Autumn smiled at Ava, as she accepted her plate.
“Thank you, Miss Ava,” Eric said gratefully.
“Miss Ava, hey?” she asked. “I like that southern charm you got there, Eric. Dig in kids.” She hurried back to the kitchen.
“I need to talk to Ava,” Autumn stated, getting up. No one said anything, as they chewed vigorously. Autumn walked back into the kitchen. “Hey, Ava.”
“Hey, sweetheart. What can I do you for?”
“I just never thanked you properly for the food…and the money.”
Ava’s face filled with kindness as she opened her arms wide, hugging Autumn tightly.
“You are so welcome. I would do anything for you, you know that right?” she asked. Autumn nodded, emotion constricting her voice.
“But why have you been turning it down lately?”
“It’s my father. He doesn’t want to accept handouts.”
“It’s not handouts. If only…” Ava mumbled.
“I can’t accept it. If I could, I would.”
Ava crossed her arms, tapping a tooth with one of her fingernails in thought. She inhaled deeply, as if she had something to say, but then thought better of it. Smiling at Autumn she said, “Well, if there’s ever anything you need, and I mean anything, promise me you won’t hesitate to ask. No matter where you are Autumn, you have my address and number, what ever you need, I will make it happen. You have no idea how much you mean to Sharon and I. Just promise to call me.”
“I promise,” Autumn replied, knowing it was a promise her father would force her to break.
“Okay. Get in there and eat your eggs before they get cold.” Ava kissed her forehead once more before pulling away and making herself busy, her eyes glistening.
Autumn walked back to her table where her friends were all whispering hurriedly. They stopped when they saw her returning, sitting back in their seats, and pretending to act casually.
Autumn cocked an eyebrow. “What’s going on, guys?”
“Nothing,” they said in unison, as they turned back to their plates.
“Tell me,” she said, not liking that they all held a conspiratorial gleam in their eyes.
“It’s for us to know and you to find out, chica,” Meg said. The two boys grinned and continue to eat.
“Very well,” Autumn conceded, “but I don’t like surprises.”
“No one does,” Meg admitted, giggling.
“Unless you know what it is,” Aiden jested.
Autumn
The next night, Autumn found herself at the twins’ house having her hair and makeup done by Meg. Apparently, she had no say in the matter. Not one to ever paint her face with anything except sunscreen, Autumn was out of her element. However, Meg was positively giddy at the thought of treating Autumn as her own life-size doll.
Autumn sat in a wooden and canvas camp chair in front of the bathroom mirror, clad only in Meg’s pink terry-cloth robe, as Meg finished setting Autumn’s hair by blow-drying and attempting to straighten it.
“What are you planning on doing with that?” Autumn asked as Meg pulled out a bottle of flesh-toned liquid.
“Make-up,” Meg replied as she arranged an assortment of eye shadows, eyeliner, mascara, bronzer, and a few different shades of lipstick onto the counter. “Foundation comes first.” She placed a dab of the foundation onto a tiny foam triangle.
“Why do I even need make-up?” Autumn probed. “What are we doing?”
“You’ll see,” Meg said with a giggle without giving away any clues as to what the night held.
Small butterflies erupted in Autumn’s belly. This kind of pampering was something she was not used to.
Aiden came running down the hallway, sticking his head into the bathroom. Autumn clutched at the opening of the robe. “How’s it going, ladies?” He peered around the door, a large smile plastered on his face as Autumn glanced back at him through the mirror.
“Out! Girls only,” Meg snapped as she finished coating Autumn’s face in foundation. It gave Autumn’s skin a healthy shine, covering the slight reddish tint she acquired from working in the orchard picking strawberries all summer.
Meg followed it up with some powder foundation for a nice, finished luster. Just when Autumn thought they finished, Meg pulled out her make-up brushes, expertly creating a cat-eye look with gold eyeshadow and a barely-there streak of pitch-black liner. She coated Autumn’s lashes with the sticky mascara and then defined Autumn’s cheekbones with blush before painting on a soft, yet shiny, nude lipstick.
Meg stepped back to survey her work, hands on her hips. “Not bad, if I do say so myself.”
Autumn beheld her reflection in the mirror—she looked like one of the women on the glossy m
agazine covers she saw in gas stations across the country. For just a moment, Autumn almost cried as she examined herself. She was beautiful.
“You have a calling with make-up,” Autumn said, looking away from the mirror.
“Every girl needs to know how to primp,” Meg smiled, shrugging her shoulders as if that was just common sense. “Come on, we have to find you something to wear.”
They walked down to Meg’s room where several fancy dresses were spread across the bed. Meg grabbed one with a sage-green bodice and cream tulle skirt that hit just below the knee. It was the kind of dress Autumn would have chosen for a dance—if she ever had the opportunity to go to a dance.
“It’s lucky we are both around the same height and size,” Meg stated. “Even our shoe size is the same. I wish I had blond hair like yours though; it’s so shiny and…manageable. Anyhow…chop, chop. You have places to be, so get your butt into that dress, missy.”
“Aren’t you coming?” Autumn clutched the dress.
“Nope,” Meg replied with a smile. “Just you and Eric.”
Autumn’s heart was racing. “What? You’re really not coming? Is this some kind of…date?” Her hands began to shake at the thought of a date with Eric. She and Eric were alone plenty of times, but it was walking and talking—this was different.
“Come on, girl. You know he adores you,” Meg rolled her eyes.
“Why—”
“This is his way of telling you,” Meg sang as she closed the door so Autumn could change. “Now, hurry up and get dressed so I can finish your hair. I will be right outside of this door young lady and time waits for no one. No escaping out of the window.”
Autumn laughed; Meg’s room was on the second floor, so jumping wasn’t really an option, unless you were Aiden whom, several summers ago, launched himself out of his bedroom window, breaking an arm and fracturing several ribs.
But doing her hair again? Autumn would never spend this much time “primping” as Meg called it—too much work.