Blown Away

by K'Anne Meinel

  She remembered the so called town square. It was four intersections that had at one time, in her own lifetime, been four dirt roads that came into Oakley and were now bordered with the old buildings, rotting along them. She knew that a park in that spot, which was dry, dusty, and town kids had used to run through in the weeds, would be an enormous boost to the town.

  “We would of course name it after your father,” he said with a toothy smile. “Christenson Park sounds wonderful doesn’t it?”

  Ellen stiffened at the mention of her father. “Were you around when my father was alive?” she interrupted him to ask. She didn’t remember him.

  “Well, no. My wife and I moved here when the canning factory went in the next town. We didn’t want to live there and found a right nice…” and he was off describing the house he and his wife had settled in so long ago. She had grown up there; she remembered where the house was. He further told her about his own background, how; when he retired he went into politics and became the Mayor of their little town. How proud he and the council was of her accomplishments.

  Ellen had stopped listening fully again as she thought over his proposal. When he mentioned a price, an outlandish one at that, she shook her head. “I thank you for coming by Mister Barnes,” she stressed deliberately. “But I’m not interested in giving any fame to my father. Nor do I think your proposal feasible.”

  “Well, it would sure breathe life into our little town…” he tried his best sales pitch but Ellen held up her hand to stop him.

  “Your ‘little’ town,” she began frostily. “Deserves to die,” she told him with a finality and swept by him to get into the Maserati. She had a breakfast she wanted to find and had no more time for this fool.

  Mayor Barnes stared at the expensive sports car in consternation. He couldn’t believe someone of her wealth, from their very own home-town, and he did consider it his home now after all these years, could turn down the proposal. It was a drop in the bucket to someone like her.

  * * * * *

  “She can’t do that!” was a familiar refrain heard around Oakley as the list of people Avril Ellen Christenson was suing began to get served with court orders.

  “How could she know?” gasped someone at the co-op.

  “She must have had someone spying on us!” another answered.

  “Do you think she had a private investigator checking us out?”

  “That Laramy kid, I betcha he told!” someone else put in and the Laramy kid, who had nothing to do with this, was summarily fired.

  “What? Those fields weren’t being used, how the hell did she know…?” was heard in one household.

  “I suggest you just return the items she has listed on that there order,” Mr. Mann had to tell a few irate people who barged into his offices. Ellen was suing for the return of her parents ‘things’ that she had suspected people had. Her well-timed visits, to those who thought themselves ‘honored’ by her, soon found out otherwise. Her observances led to a detailed list of who had what, people she had suspected when she left, some she had known, others merely speculated about. The burden of proof was on her; however she had the money to make these people miserable, and was.

  The court order by Ellen’s attorney against the co-op who had led her to believe that they were handling the acres owned by the Sheehan family…not only were they being audited on Ellen’s behalf, for the past twenty years, but sued for their mishandling of the acreage. There was one more lawsuit pending, against a guy who had been using the back acres, far from regular roads, for his own crops, without paying rent to the co-op or to Ellen.

  It was amazing what a few well-placed drinks and dollars could net in the information network in a small town. Ellen hadn’t had to try too hard, but neither had Mr. Mann. Rumors were being confirmed. ‘Things’ that had been ‘salvaged’ or actually taken in the search through the house were now being returned or were disappearing to never be seen again, after all, you couldn’t sue for the return of an item if it didn’t exist right? Ellen or rather ‘Avril’ had used her camera on her phone to take a few pictures that Mr. Mann now had in his possession. Mr. Mann had to hire on his partner to help with the lawsuits as his new client, who had an unlimited supply of funds, was going after quite a few people.

  “I was just doing my job!” the former Sheriff Worley protested when he and his wife were served.

  Ellen had a long and thorough memory. She had been a frightened teen and they had taken full advantage of her. Having the means of revenge began to soothe the guilt she felt over her father’s death. Some of these people could have prevented the situation; some of them had taken advantage of it. Now it was time to pay, she wasn’t waiting for ‘judgement day’ to let some higher entity deal with them. Fate or Karma hadn’t bitten these people in the ass so Ellen Christenson was going to mete out the punishment as she saw fit.

  Her final days in Oakley had her glared at, practically spit upon, but justice was swift and everyone who had gotten served was now ‘suspect’ in the eyes of their small-town neighbors. If someone of Ellen Christenson’s stature was going after them, they ‘had’ to be ‘guilty.’ Money spoke volumes and she was using it judiciously. As her time came here to a close, the need for revenge faded and she let her anger go; in many ways. It was time to leave and Mr. Mann and his partner could handle the rest for her anyway. She only ‘needed’ to be back in Oakley if any of these lawsuits actually went to court, most would be settled long before anyone wanted to suffer the public embarrassment of what she was suing them for.

  Before she left she stopped at the cemetery to talk to her ‘mama’ and apologize.

  “I tried Mama, I tried,” she sobbed. She started when she thought she heard the wind that always blew in Oklahoma sigh, “It wasn’t your place.” Looking up and around she thought she had finally gone over the edge. She felt comfort for having visited her, even in this dismal place. Glancing at the headstone next to it she felt nothing anymore, no anger, no resentment. She felt that was progress, he didn’t have the control he once had over her, the anger was gone. It had all been so pointless and such a waste of emotions. It was time to go and as she got into Ryan’s car, now hers, she realized she could finally leave the past behind her. She looked around the cemetery once more, the wind blowing her hair back from her face. She saw the names, many of them familiar, many had relatives still in the small town. They would all end up here and she was done, so done with it all.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  PROMISES KEPT

  Driving back from Oklahoma she felt the weight of her years peeling off of her. She finally felt free again. Even the storms she encountered on the plains didn’t bother as they once had. Ellen was normally frightened of thunder and lightning yet now she felt exuberant, cleansed of the past that had once weighed heavy upon her and her psyche.

  “Hi Dr. Keurig,” she answered her phone with her blue tooth in her ear. They had come a long way from the shoe box car phones that even Ryan had pointed out would go by the wayside. Phones nowadays did indeed have her favorite games on them.

  “Are you okay Ellen? I was worried about you when I didn’t hear from you,” Nancy expressed herself.

  “I’m doing great, I have a lot to share with you when I get back,” Ellen promised. She had never felt so free before and was actually looking forward to filling in the therapist on what she had done, what she had initiated and what she felt like.

  Nancy was surprised, while she thought it was a good idea for Ellen to go back to the home she had once had to perhaps exorcise some of the ghosts, the Ellen she was hearing through the phone was completely different from the one she knew. She sounded so…almost happy. She had to wonder if it was real. “Well, do you want your normal appointment time next Thursday?” she asked hesitantly, not sure if Ellen was really as happy as she sounded.

  “Sounds good, I’ll be there,” Ellen promised and disconnected the call soon afterwards.

  Driving towards Las Vegas she remembered another pr
omise she had made and checked in the same hotel outside of Vegas that she had stayed in a little over a week ago. Going to the same diner she looked around disappointedly when she didn’t spot the young girl she had hoped to help. Ordering dinner from the same waitress she waited until she saw the woman wasn’t too busy to ask, “Has that girl been in here?”

  The waitress looked at the well-dressed woman trying to remember her and then it hit her, she had been the big tipper a week or so ago. Of course she remembered her. “Yeah, she’s gotten at least one meal a day here for the last few days,” she said sourly. The kid was a menace. Dirty and disheveled, if this woman hadn’t prepaid for the meals they would have thrown her out.

  “Did I miss her today?” she asked hopefully.

  “I haven’t seen her today,” she answered. “I don’t think I saw her yesterday either…” she finished musingly, trying to recall.

  “Thanks,” Ellen said, realizing the woman just simply didn’t care. She ate slowly, hoping the girl would show up. She wanted to live up to her promises. She couldn’t help wonder though if something had happened to the girl or if she had given up. She’d been gone over the week, but she had mentioned it might take longer. The filing of the paperwork and the subsequent lawsuits through Mr. Mann had taken extra time. Even with her money, bureaucracy took time. A lot of it would happen now that she was gone but she had started it and Mr. Mann was more than up to the challenge, he was relishing it.

  Ellen didn’t see the girl that night. She was worried. So much could have happened to the young teenaged girl she didn’t want to think about it. She spent a sleepless night in her hotel room, tossing and turning and wondering about her. She genuinely wanted to help her. She’d escaped her past, her own dismal youth; she wanted to help this girl escape whatever demons drove her.

  She considered staying an extra day just to see if the girl would show up. But she had been gone over a week from work already and someone with a job like hers didn’t just drop everything and run. She ate at the diner for breakfast, and then for lunch. Before the hotel could charge her for a second night she packed up and drove around the little suburb of Vegas, hoping to catch sight of the youth that she had promised a job to. It wasn’t until she approached the interstate that she caught sight of the girl; a woebegone figure standing on the shoulder of the on-ramp holding up a sign. It read, “West or bust,” whatever that meant. Ellen slowed down the expensive car beyond where the youth was standing. With no luggage the girl soon jogged up and looked in the window that Ellen rolled down.

  “You!” she said in surprise. She glanced at the expensive sports car and to the woman who had promised to come back. She had been at the diner or thereabouts for the past week and the woman hadn’t shown up. They had given her free meals so she didn’t mind; it had been the only food she had left without resorting to her past ways to make a meal. She had figured this woman hadn’t meant what she said and yet, here she was.

  “You want that job or not?” Ellen asked with a grin and leaned across the stick shift to open the door.

  The girl hesitated for only a second before sliding into the luxurious car. She was genuinely frightened now. Men and women had preyed on her in the past, but none with such expensive cars as this.

  Looking at the girl, she could almost smell her fear. The stringy hair, the ratty jeans, and the dilapidated jacket hid none of the anxiety. She was putting a brave, if insolent face on it, but she was still scared. “What’s your name?” Ellen asked as she effortlessly shifted the powerful car through its gears and accelerated onto the interstate.

  “Di,” she answered sullenly, looking around the car and wondering who this woman was.

  “Well Di, I’m headed for San Francisco and I’ll have a job there waiting for you if you want, otherwise you can do what you want,” she indicated the cardboard sign the youth was still holding.

  “That was just to get out of town, I couldn’t stay there anymore,” she explained. She shoved the sign on the floor by her feet.

  “You don’t have a police record or anything that is gonna have someone coming back after you back there do you?” Ellen asked, pointing behind them with her thumb.

  The stringy hair waved back and forth as Di shook her head. “I just couldn’t stay after…”she began but then went silent.

  “After?” Ellen prompted.

  “You said a week,” the teen burst out.

  “I said a week to a week and half. Sorry if you felt I was late,” she explained.

  Di was so relieved that she couldn’t argue. This was almost like a fairytale and she would do anything this woman wanted. She was out of that little town. She had considered heading back to Vegas but knew that there were worse places for a girl in her position and she didn’t want a pimp. This woman hadn’t taken her up on her offer of payment, instead she had lived up to the promise she had made, even if it wasn’t in the time that she had thought she said. She had been so disappointed. She’d given it ‘one more day’ out of sheer desperation. She’d not gone back to the diner because she felt she was wearing her welcome out there. She’d been surprised they had given her free food every day for that one week. They weren’t very nice to her though but then she didn’t look that good, even she knew she smelled. She hoped this sophisticated woman with her nice car didn’t notice.

  Ellen did notice and stopped outside Los Angles at a store to buy the teen jeans, underwear, a couple of t-shirts, new sports shoes, and toiletries. She even bought a backpack for the girl to store the extras.

  “Why are we stopping here?” Di asked looking around at the truck stop. Wondering if this was some elaborate scheme to sell her to some trucker.

  “I thought you’d like a shower before you put all that on,” Ellen pointed at the bag that contained all of Di’s new worldly possessions. She had her try them on at the store to see that they fit but Di refused to wear them out of the store. The store salesperson hadn’t been too pleased to have the smelly youth trying on some of the clothes but Ellen had bought them for her.

  “Here?” she asked, still suspicious.

  “I’ll stand guard,” Ellen promised, and then did.

  Di stood in the hot spray of the shower a little longer than she intended. The shampoo Ellen had bought was heavenly and she used it sparingly but still it made her hair clean for the first time in weeks. Sliding into the brand-new clothes was a luxury she would never forget. They were stiff but they were clean. That wasn’t something she had felt in a very long time, being this clean.

  Ellen was startled at the pretty girl who walked out of the shower at the truck stop. She had to pay extra because the youth took so long and the showers were timed. She didn’t mind when she saw the result. For once the lanky locks were brushed out, the teen even smiled timidly at her when she expressed how nice she looked. The backpack now contained her extra t-shirts, underwear, and toiletries. She threw away her battered clothes.

  “Sure you won’t need those again?” Ellen asked amused at the gesture.

  “That’s the past, I’m moving on,” Di said with confidence. She had considered keeping them; after all she had lived in them for months. While they had covered her, she didn’t miss them. They were embarrassing and she felt clean and confident for the first time in a long time. Her stomach rumbled.

  “Hungry?” Ellen asked astutely.

  Di nodded, she didn’t want to ask for anything but she hadn’t eaten in a couple of days, not wanting to go back to the diner anymore.

  Ellen found them a booth at the diner attached to the truck stop. Ellen knew that most of the truck stop diners served decent food; truckers insisted on it. A few of the truckers eyed the two women alone but Ellen’s steely look in return had them paying attention to their own meals and no one bothered them as Ellen ordered her meal and then Di ordered her own.

  “What will I be doing in San Francisco?” Di asked.

  “What do you want to do?” she asked, she was curious what the teen would answer.

&nbs
p; No one ever asked Di what she wanted. The question threw her for a moment. “I suppose I should go back to school,” she said resignedly.

  “Is that what you want to do?”

  Di shrugged. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

  Ellen looked at her and waited. The silence spread between them but Ellen wasn’t going to push the girl. It was her decision. She’d help if she could but she couldn’t make the decision for her.

  * * * * *

  The long drive between Los Angeles and San Francisco took the requisite eight hours. Ellen could have cut the time down a bit with the powerful engine under the hood but kept to the speed limit. It must have disappointed her passenger as well as a few cops but she wasn’t about to get a ticket. She took Di to a shelter she had contributed money to.

  “This is only temporary until you get on your feet,” she assured the scared teen. “Go here on Monday and they will be expecting you,” she gave her a card for the office she owned in the city. She’d call them after Di was out of her hearing to tell them to expect her, train her, give her a job, any job, but most of all, assess her abilities. If all else she would pay to send the teen back to school if she was so inclined. She’d ‘win’ a scholarship if her efforts were enough. She’d seen evidence with her own eyes of people in her companies that didn’t have college educations and soared. School wasn’t for everyone but while the teen was making up her mind what she wanted out of life, she might want to go. It would give her a polish that she just might need to get ahead in life..

  “Thanks Ms. Christenson,” Di said respectfully. They had talked, a lot, on the trip and Ellen had introduced herself. She had liked that Ellen hadn’t pressured her about what she wanted, what she was going to do, just listened when she spoke and offered her own perspective now and then. Otherwise it hadn’t been a twenty question uncomfortable ride. As she got out of the Maserati she felt a sense of loss, no one had taken the time or cared enough to help her before.