by M. V. Miles
“Addison, wake up,” a strange voice said, shaking me.
My eyes flew open. I was on a plane. Stuart was leaning over me. I pushed him away.
He looked worried. “You were having another bad dream. Do these happen often?”
“No,” I mumbled. It felt so real. I sat up in my chair, ignoring everyone staring at me. I grabbed Stuart’s glass of melted ice and Jack to control my haggard breathing, but he removed it seconds later.
“This is mine. Here.” He replaced the cup with one filled with water.
Elizabeth just fluttered away into the night sky. “She’s ash,” I whimpered.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I didn’t want to explain myself to him. Maybe this was her sick way of saying goodbye.
Stuart turned back to talking politics with some guy sitting across the aisle.
The old woman from earlier kept gawking at me. I tried not to let it bother me. I never had nightmares before. Maybe it was stress-related. I looked around for something to do. Part of me wanted to open the shade again, but my fear stopped me. So I grabbed the magazine that was in front of me in a little pocket on the wall. No way was I going to go back to sleep.
An hour later, the captain informed us to put on our seatbelts to prepare for landing. Stuart handed me another piece of gum, but instead of chewing it I pocketed it. I didn’t trust him or the gum. So I fastened my belt and tried to relax, but all too soon I felt nauseated. I opened my eyes and glanced at Stuart, who was reading the Wall Street Journal. Part of me wanted to throw up right there on the floor, but I managed to hold it until we were off the plane. Thankfully, there was a trashcan at the jet way exit.
Stuart's face flushed as I straightened and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Was that really necessary?” he asked.
“It was either that or on the floor.”
He handed me a Kleenex from his pocket. “Use this. Next time try to wait until you get to a bathroom. God, this is so embarrassing.”
“Excuse me. How about next time I just let it fly out my mouth!” No way was I apologizing for something I didn’t have control over.
“Don’t be a brat. Come along. We have to get our bags.” He stomped down the concourse.
Now wasn’t the time to have a full-blown argument with him; it could wait. So I swallowed my pride and followed.
As we walked through the airport, sunshine shined down on us through large skylights and I welcomed the warmth and colorful plants that lined either side of the hall. We joined everyone from our flight in front of a silver conveyor belt.
“When your bag comes out, just step up and take it. It’s not that complicated,” Stuart instructed.
Before I could answer, a green light began to flash, and the metal tray began to move, delivering bags like an assembly line. Of course Stuart’s bags were the first to appear, and I watched as he stepped forward and grabbed them, rejoining me in seconds. Seemed easy enough.
I shrugged my carryon over my shoulder and waited for my things to arrive. The bags kept rolling out, but mine never appeared. People gathered up their suitcases and left. A red light flashed, and everything came to a screeching halt. Stuart and I were standing alone.
“Where’s my bag?” Elizabeth’s jean jacket was in there. I climbed on the conveyor belt and peered past the clear plastic flaps leading to a warehouse-type building. There were trucks loading bags onto other belts, but ours was empty.
“You're not supposed to be up there," Stuart said from behind me. "Do you see it?"
“No, it never came out. Where is it, Stuart? I need that bag.” My stomach gurgled with anxiety.
“Okay, okay, just calm down. Come on.” He said and took off down a hall.
After ten minutes, we were still walking, “Where are we going?”
“To file a missing baggage claim.”
“That bag is really important to me. I need it, Stuart.”
“I know.” He opened a glass door leading into an administrative office.
We were told to sign in and wait.
“You did check it in, didn’t you?” I questioned, after a few minutes.
“Addison, I put your bag with mine. You were there. Unfortunately, this sometimes happens.”
I didn’t believe him.
It seemed to take forever until we were called back, and a man in a suit took Stuart's phone number and address. At first, I thought Stuart was genuinely concerned, but when he couldn’t produce the baggage ticket, I changed my mind.
“I knew it; you didn’t check my bag, did you?” I accused again seconds after we had left the office, coming to an abrupt halt. People were forced to walk around us.
Stuart frowned. “Addison, people lose bags all the time. It’s not that big of a deal. Stop causing a scene.”
“But they don’t even have you checking in a third bag. They have my carryon. I mean I saw you put that sticker thing on it, but…”
“Well, maybe their computers messed up,” he said as his left eye twitched.
“I don’t know how you’re even a good lawyer. You can’t lie for shit.”
He whipped around, glaring at me, and pulled me to the side of the passageway.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. I had the attendant throw your clothes in the trash, where they belonged. You can’t dress like that here.”
“Seriously?” Who threw someone else’s clothing away? I didn’t think he would actually admit it.
“Besides, you could use some new ones. So there, I told you the truth. Can we please go so that I can get home before midnight?”
This isn’t what Elizabeth would have wanted. I turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, leaving Stuart behind calling my name.
I cut to the right and darted down another hall but didn’t see any exits. So I kept running. There had to be a way out somewhere. I hit a dead end. Shoot, what happened if there was a fire? How were people supposed to get out? I spun around and froze. Stuart blocked my retreat.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Stuart asked, bending to catch his breath.
“Going home,” I replied, searching for some way around him.
“Like hell you are. Not after you dragged me halfway across the country to get your ass. You’re coming home with me. End of discussion.”
No. I slumped against the wall. “I didn’t ask you to come get me. I was just fine without you. Those clothes were my things. Elizabeth’s jacket. Things I can’t replace.” I hated the sorrow in my voice. Burying my head in my hands, I tried to stop crying.
Stuart squatted down next to me. “Look I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“No, you don’t care, and that’s obvious. So just let me leave, you’ll never see me again, I promise. You know this isn’t going to work. Let me go,” I pleaded, staring at him.
He shook his head. “I wish it were that easy.” He grabbed my upper arm with a firm grip and hauled me to my feet.
What did that mean?
“Walk,” he ordered.
I didn’t move, so he jerked me forward and pulled me after him.
“Go to hell.” I resisted, reeling away from him.
“Addison,” he said, as a security guard approached us.
“Is everything okay, sir?” he asked, and Stuart released me.
“No, he’s trying to kidnap me,” I screamed.
“Sir, is this true?” the man asked.
“May I talk to you for a second?” Stuart stepped to the side but still blocking me. I didn’t know what they were saying, but I did see Stuart pull out his wallet and hand the guy money.
“Ma’am, please go with your father,” the officer said, facing me.
“Are you for real? I tell you he’s trying to kidnap me, and he slips you a hundred and it’s all good?”
“Ma’am, please calm down.” The guard rested his hand on his stun gun.
“Don’t 'ma’am' me. People like you disgust me.” I glared at Stuart.
“You got what you wanted. Let’s go.”
Stuart thanked the man, and we continued down the hall. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him. “Try to humiliate me again and see what happens.”
I jerked loose but continued to stay close, feeling like a prisoner walking down death row. My freedom was now in the hands of someone I didn’t even know. What did he mean when he said it wasn’t easy to let me go?
We collected his abandoned bags. Surprisingly, no one had touched them.
“Where are we going?” I asked after five minutes of walking in no clear direction.
“Since I can’t leave you with the bags, we’re going to have to walk to the parking garage.”
“This isn’t my fault, remember?”
“No, it’s not, but you’re not making it easy.”
We exited through an automatic door depositing us outside to a light breeze and sunshine. I sighed. He was right. The weather was nice.
On our walk, we passed a large flying saucer-like building. “What’s that?”
“A restaurant. I’ll take you there sometime,” Stuart said, as we entered a multi-level parking garage.
I didn’t deserve to go anywhere after the way I had been acting. It was childish of me to run away. I pushed the elevator button, but it was out of order. Figures.
“Up the stairs we go,” Stuart said.
We walked up five flights to the top level, where a man was sitting in an air-conditioned booth reading a paper. He jumped up when he spotted us, and Stuart handed him another card. The attendant ran it and slid Stuart his keys.
“Thanks,” Stuart said, and the man buzzed us through the gate. Once inside I shrugged my sweatshirt off and ran to catch up with Stuart who was half-way across the lot. Man, he was in a hurry. He stopped next to a cherry red sports car.
“Talk about a death trap.” It reminded me of one of those little toy cars that kids rode around in.
“What?” Stuart asked, as he climbed in and rolled down the windows.
“Nothing.”
“The door's unlocked. You can get in anytime.” Stuart started the engine.
“Is it safe?”
“Yes, Addison, it’s perfectly safe. Now, will you please get in the car?”
I slid in, slamming the door on purpose. There was no way this car was safe. We were practically sitting on the ground. But it was pretty sharp. I had to give him that.
“Put your seatbelt on.”
“Duh, I’m not stupid.”
He peeled out of the garage, tires squealing all the way down the curving exit ramp.
As we left the airport, I spotted a sign that welcomed us to the Sunshine State. All the sunshine in the world couldn’t take away the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t supposed to be here.
Chapter Eight
Stuart lowered the top, exposing us to the sun and the wind, which whipped my hair around so much that I pulled my hood up.
“This is so much better than being in that nasty cold weather,” he yelled, smiling over at me.
“I like snow,” I lied.
He smirked and turned up the radio.
I shifted toward the window and came to face to face with my reflection in the side view mirror. My eyes were red-rimmed with dark smudges under them. Surprisingly, most of the concealer was still there, but it would have to be reapplied soon. All this wind didn’t help. I looked up as we were passing a street lined with palm trees and people playing Frisbee in the park. Perpetual summer.
I lowered my eyes to my ripped jeans and my pale skin peeking through. What was going to happen now? What if he dropped me off on the side of the road? What would I do then? I didn’t know anyone, and it wasn’t like I had a cell phone to call for help. Besides I’m sure the pay phone cost more than fifty cents here.
What did I expect? This wasn’t the first time I’d felt isolated. Six months ago Elizabeth was picked up for drugs, and I was sent to the county home for unwanted children. My stay there was cut short when I added bleach to some bully's shampoo. That led to juvenile hall, where I spent most of my month in isolation. Everything seemed lost, but Elizabeth got clean and I got to go home. I really thought she’d changed. If I’d only known she was sick then…
Stuart pulled off the highway, disrupting my thoughts as we entered into a residential area. Everything was so clean and fresh. So different than the trash-littered streets I was used to. Here there was space for kids to run around. I bet the crime rate was low.
We turned left, and the houses seemed to get bigger with more space between them. As we rounded a corner, I could see we were on a cliff overlooking the winding street we’d just taken. It looked like a post card I had seen before. But where?
My knees touched the dash as I slouched down and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if he opened the door and pushed me out. It was just a matter of time before we reached our destination--wherever that was. Would I be ready?
The car stopped, and I opened my eyes to see a shack-like structure with a man wearing a khaki uniform sitting inside. He stepped out, clipboard in hand, and squatted next to the car. He reminded me of those mall cops who carried around mace instead of a gun. It made me smile. Sitting up, I peered around. We were at a gate and just beyond the gate, giant trees lined either side of the road. I spotted a sign welcoming us to Pinnacle Acres.
“Mr. McDaniel, did you have a nice flight?” the man asked as he handed Stuart a pen.
“Yes. Frank, this is my daughter, Addison. She’ll be moving in with us. Will you add her name to our family roster?”
“Of course, and nice to meet you, Addison…?” Frank directed at me.
“Solomon. My last name is Solomon,” I stated.
“Solomon,” the man repeated, writing my name down before going back inside his shack opening the gate.
We pulled forward, and the black iron gate slid shut behind us. I’d never been in community that you had to sign into. Talk about ritzy.
“Afraid someone poor might get in?” I asked Stuart.
He glanced over at me. “No, this it’s to keep us safe from the criminals of the world.”
“Whatever you say.” I’m sure there was more crime going on here than out in the real world. It just took on a different form. This was the type of place you heard about in the news when some rich guy murders his wife in the family pool.
Everything here seemed secluded and expensive. I figured we’d eventually come to a busy subdivision like the ones they had in Chicago, but at every turn I only saw more trees.
“Welcome to your new home,” Stuart announced, as he cruised down a hill toward a sage-green house bigger than my entire apartment building. How many people lived here? He pulled to a stop behind a silver Lexus and exited the car. Fear gripped me, and I was temporarily paralyzed. We were here. Really here.
Part of the front yard was surrounded by a red brick drive that enclosed it like an island. There was even a stone fountain in the center. I wonder if there were real fish in the water.
Purple hydrangeas and day lilies lined the side of the house, leading into the backyard. I maneuvered in my seat to see the front of the house where I spotted an old-fashioned swing that had been tied to a low handing branch of tall tree. I wonder if Elizabeth ever swung on that. It was foolish for me to assume she’d been here. If he was smart, he kept his wife and mistress in separate compartments.
There were more flowers and bushes on either side of the walkway that led to a multi-paned glass front door. A few white wicker chairs were on either side of it with a small side table with potted plants on it. Everything was so symmetric and neat.
The garage door opened and two cars, a light pink Mercedes convertible and a four door Cadillac pulled out. Within minutes a few Hispanic men began hosing them down. How many cars did this family need? They had servants! What? Did I just get smacked back into the eighteenth century?
One of the men greeted Stuart with a fa
ke smile taking his keys. Stuart glanced at me. “Ready? I want to get this car washed.” Stuart asked.
I shook my head no, and he slid back in the driver’s seat. “Give us a minute.” He said to the car washing guy, who nodded and pocketed the keys before jogging back to his friend.
This was way too much for me to take in. A new state, a new house, and now a new family. I felt like my head was going to explode. My hands were cold and clammy. I hoped I didn’t get sick again. Stuart leaned against the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get off on the right foot, but it’s important for you to make a good impression. You can do that, can’t you?”
No pressure there, boss. “Sure anything for you, Dad.” I exited the car, stomped up onto the porch, and paused at the front door. I wasn’t going to do him any favors.
“Okay, here we go,” Stuart said, joining me. He pushed open the door, and we entered a wide foyer with white marble floors. A double staircase leading to a landing, showcased a massive abstract painting hanging on the wall. Its primary color was blue, which clashed with the tan walls. It reminded me of a preschooler scribbling with a magic marker. The staircase split into two and headed up to another level. To the left, I could see a formal dining room, complete with napkins fanned out on the unused plates, like at fancy restaurants.
Stuart sifted through a pile of mail lying on a silver tray atop a tall standing table. A black vase with white and blue lilies sat the end closest to me. I approached them and smelled. A sickening sweet scent filled my nose and reminded me of Elizabeth.
She loved lilies. Stargazers were her favorite. Whenever we passed them on the street, she would insist upon embarrassing me by picking one or bending over to smell them. Why was I always mean to her?
Sniffling, I lifted my eyes to the ceiling finding a rather obnoxious crystal chandelier. Knowing my luck, it would fall on me, so I side-stepped from underneath it.
“You can leave your stuff here,” Stuart instructed.
“No.” I clutched my book bag to my chest. I didn’t want to risk losing this one; it was too significant. He stepped closer and ripped it from my hands, then gently set it on the floor near the dining room entrance.