Strains of Silence

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Strains of Silence Page 6

by Strains of Silence (retail) (epub)


  Kasia nodded. That was the same thing she prayed for herself.

  And then Mark Cleaven said the words that changed everything.

  “And if there’s someone here who’d be willing to go and work with us? Let me know.” His words reverberated in the air, rippling waves in concentric circles. They crashed against her heart.

  That’s me.

  It’s not music, but it’s something. And what held her back?

  After the service—without a word to her new friends—Kasia hustled up front. She didn’t want him to leave before she got to him.

  Kasia stuck out her hand before doubt could kill her nerve. “Hi, I’m Kasia. I can do it.”

  Mark laughed. “Do what?”

  “I think I’m your new ESL teacher.”

  ~*~

  Zan parked in front of a yellow Cape Cod. Manicured wasn’t the right word, but the freshly mulched flowerbeds must be a favorite hobby. He hadn’t meant to be impressed with these people who’d taken his sister.

  Bailey hurried out to meet him, and he wrapped his tiny big sister in a hug. Nothing frail about her this time. She offered him an Adirondack chair by the front window, and an older lady waddled out with a tray of iced lemonade, set it on the weathered wicker table.

  He extended his hand. “Alexander Maddox, ma’am.”

  She grasped it before swiping a silver strand of hair from her forehead. “I’m Mrs. Beistline. We certainly adore your sister.”

  Zan watched Bailey settle into one of the low chairs. She glowed, eyes vibrant. If he hadn’t spent last week afraid for her, he might have warmed at the peace in her eyes. But it irked him.

  He waited until Mrs. Beistline went inside. “I called off the search when I got your note.” He needed to swallow the anger, but Bailey had to catch what he was pitching. “I went to your house, you know? Filed a missing-person report and everything.” Her blindness to his frustration and concern drove him nuts.

  Bailey frowned. “Sorry. My only focus was getting away. We thought it would be best for me to completely disappear. And I figured you were tied up with baseball.”

  “Really, Bay? In what world would baseball be more important than you? You disappeared! Not a word to anybody. We were all—”

  “I know.” She sipped at her lemonade. “I should’ve thought of everyone else.”

  The words punched him in the gut. “No. You did what you had to. It was just…scary. Listen, forget about it. Tell me about these folks.”

  “They’re great. I met them at a support-group meeting at West Ridge Community Church. As soon as they learned about everything, they opened their home to me.”

  “If you want to get out for good, you could always move home. Mom and Dad would—”

  “I don’t want to leave Huntington, Zan. If Michael doesn’t find me, I’ll be fine. I love the church—the people.”

  “Bailey, when you’re in a situation like this, you go to family. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. You don’t need to depend on strangers, especially if they’re filling your head with—”

  “Hold it right there.”

  Zan blinked. Never. She’d never stood up to him before. To anyone.

  “I’m content. I feel safe. I know I haven’t made great decisions in the past, but I want you to trust me this time.”

  “Was Mike…” He rubbed his knee, couldn’t figure out how to ask. He got up and leaned on one of the supports.

  “You can ask me anything.”

  Zan reached across his chest and massaged his shoulder, grasped for words. “Was it just when he was drunk? I mean, did he ever…”

  The words hung there, and Zan gave up trying to phrase his thoughts. When he turned to gaze out at the mountains in the distance, she spoke.

  “He was abusive in just about every way you can imagine—he messed with my mind, screamed at me, threatened me, beat me, accused me of…all kinds of things. And I didn’t even see it. I got really good at making excuses for him.”

  “What happened that night at the house? You had to be terrified.”

  “He did all the smashing and breaking after I left.”

  “Thank God.”

  Bailey snapped her head in his direction and one eyebrow slid up underneath her bangs. “I do, Zan. I might not have lived through that one. Of course, my decision to leave caused the reaction.”

  “What changed? That made you leave.”

  “One night, our neighbors called the police, and I—whew. This one’s embarrassing.” She kicked at the welcome mat.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I do, actually. It’s good for me. I covered up the bruises while Michael met the officers at the door, and then when I came out, I basically fell all over myself declaring his innocence. ‘He didn’t do anything. I fell.’ No one pressed charges.”

  Zan felt sick. He’d always wanted to believe Mike was just gifted at smooth-talking his way out of trouble—without Bailey’s help.

  “The next day, while Michael was at work, my neighbor Sally came over. She brought her pastor’s wife with her, and they invited me to come to a group that meets at their church. It took me forever to actually go, but Sally never pushed. She just showed kindness like no one I’d known in a while. And the group? After about four sessions, the Lord began to let me see what sort of shape I was in—and what was happening.”

  “Did you tell Michael you were leaving?”

  “No. The Beistlines rented a trailer while he was at work.” She reached for his hand. “Alexander. Let me figure things out. I need this.”

  Zan’s chest hurt from the pride he felt for her. That took some strength.

  He scratched his head. No more dark circles under her eyes. They were clear instead of dull and glassy. She’d been so frazzled and broken. Now? Stronger somehow. Clearly, she bought whatever these people were peddling. For today, he could get behind anything that made her feel valuable. “All right, Bay. You figure it out, but keep us in the loop. We love you.”

  “I know. I feel it.”

  “Stay in touch with Mom, if nobody else. Charleston feels a world away when she doesn’t know where you are.”

  “I promise.”

  He reached across the table and squeezed her hand, willed her to pick up on his mental signal. Hang on to the worthwhile stuff, but don’t fall for the Jesus con.

  ~*~

  Jayce stood near where they sat for the service, a helmet tucked under his arm. “A.J. had a quick creative-arts-ministry meeting, but she wants us all to head over to her Uncle Frankie’s for a cookout. You in?”

  “Who’s going?” Kasia asked.

  Jayce gave Kasia that Southie nod. “Does it matter? There’s gonna be a grill.”

  “I can make a salad if you want,” Kasia said.

  “I bet you make a wicked salad, but, ah, lettuce ain’t really my thing.”

  “Can I ride with you, Kasia?” Kyle asked.

  Jayce dropped his Bible into a worn backpack. “Let’s just park at your place, Kyle. I’ll drop the bike and we can all take Bond-O.”

  “What kind of motorcycle, a chopper?” Kasia asked.

  Jayce’s eyes crinkled with laughter. “Ah, no. No, I’m not the chopper type. I drive an old British cycle. My old man and me restored it together. Took us four years.”

  Kasia’s eyebrows arched. “Four years? Are you serious?”

  “Yeah.” He had a pleasant, far-off look in his eyes for a moment. “Parts were a little pricey, so we just did a little at a time.”

  Kyle’s face was full of admiration. “That is one sweet bike.”

  “If the bike is so special—why did your dad let his college-bound son take off with it? It’s like a what? Fifteen-hour drive?” Kasia asked.

  Jayce nodded with that wry smile again. “Yeah, almost sixteen. My bike’s better for an afternoon drive. Fine around town, but he wanted me to get down here all right.”

  A.J. jogged over. “Jayce, I’ve got to run over and pick up those canvases
for the coffeehouse. That all right?”

  “Yup. Pick us all up at Kyle’s when you’re done.”

  As they neared Blake’s neighborhood, Kasia’s shoulders turned into two solid knots of tension. She couldn’t wait to drive past it.

  “Oh, take the next right onto Finley Road.” Kyle pointed out the window.

  Her stomach hit the floorboard. Finley Road. She swallowed hard as she hit her blinker.

  “Just pull in here—this first left.”

  Why here? Kasia stayed as far away from Blake’s building as she could, pulled in next to the mailboxes.

  As soon as she parked, Kyle jumped out of her car. “Be right back.”

  Kasia grabbed her phone and called Lenka. She leaned her head back on the seat and closed her eyes, imagined she was somewhere else.

  “Hey,” her sister answered. “So…what’d you think of everything?”

  A smile commandeered Kasia’s face. “I figured out what I want to do this summer.”

  “Good. Maybe we can carpool or something.”

  “Not unless you want a ride to Peru.”

  Silence.

  “Are you still there?”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Dead.”

  “The whole summer.”

  “I’ve got no reason to stay. I can be back at school in the fall, and I’m exactly the kind of person he’s looking for. No job, no husband, no kids, no ties—other than a supportive family who I’m hoping will send me off with their blessings.” Just saying it out loud was making Kasia’s heart hammer.

  “Huh.” Kasia could practically hear the gears turning in Lenka’s head.

  “What? I felt alive again today, and…it’s been a while.” Kasia needed this as much as the Cleavens needed her. Nothing Lenka could say would change it.

  “I think you’d be awesome at that type of ministry—and time away would be good for you.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I’m sure Mom and Dad will see it too.”

  “Lenka, you make me all sappy.”

  “Aw, I’m just trying to get you out of the country so I can have your room. You’ve got the view of the mountains back there. My window looks out on the road.”

  “Girl, if you help me persuade Mom and Dad, I’ll give you my room willingly.”

  “Don’t think I won’t hold you to that, Kosh. You go and that room is mine.”

  Kasia laughed. “Done.”

  Someone tapped on the glass beside her head. She glanced back and her stomach hit the floorboard. “Blake is outside my car.”

  “What is he doing there? Did he follow you again?”

  Kasia knew better than to answer that. He knocked again.

  “Don’t even think about rolling the window down.”

  “He’s not going to go away if I don’t.”

  “He’s not—”

  Kasia rolled it down halfway. She said nothing.

  “Will you please get out and talk to me?”

  “No. I’m on the phone with my sister, Lena. Remember her?” Kasia sounded all politeness, but a strength infused her that she’d lacked before.

  “Put it on speaker,” Lenka demanded.

  “Kasia, listen,” Blake began. “I’m sorry about the way things happened last night. I just…we didn’t get to finish. Your friend interrupted.” He wasn’t quite able to hide the venom in those last two words.

  “No, we were finished. I didn’t really want to hear any more.”

  His fist shook. With obvious effort, he stilled it, stretched his fingers out. “There are still things I want to tell you though.”

  Kasia shook her head. And then she heard the tiger purr of a motorcycle.

  As Blake looked behind her car, Kasia peeked in the rearview. The slick black cycle idled directly behind her. Jayce lifted the visor of his helmet and stared. Revved the engine.

  Kyle appeared and leaned back beside Kasia’s door, arms folded across his chest.

  “What’s happening? I need details,” Lenka said.

  Kasia’s nerves hummed, but—with the guys looking out for her—it was far more entertaining than she thought it’d be. She gave Lenka the details and put her on speaker.

  Kyle extended his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Kyle Compton. You are?”

  Blake stared at Kyle’s hand for a beat, then leaned down and hissed at Kasia, “This is getting old, Kasia. I’ll catch you at school.” He spun and stalked off.

  Jayce pulled into a nearby spot and parked. Kyle climbed in the passenger seat.

  “Is he gone?” Lenka huffed. “Yet another reason why a few months in Peru might be a good thing.”

  “Yeah, Lenka.” Blake was right. This was getting old.

  “She say Peru?” Kyle asked.

  Jayce slid into Kasia’s back seat. “All right. Ya gotta tell me: Is this guy a real threat, or is he just unbelievably irritating?”

  Both girls answered at once. Lenka shouted on speakerphone, “A threat.”

  Kasia muttered, “Just irritating—” Then she added, “I…think.” Her caveat was met with awkward quiet.

  “On that note,” Lenka said, “I’m going to hang up. But…you need to tell these guys the situation, since they’re around more than I am. See you soon.”

  Kasia mumbled, “Blake and I used to…” Minimizing it would get her nowhere. “He’s my ex-fiancé. He can’t quite let go.”

  Jayce spoke again. “But ya made it clear that you were done, yeah? I mean, if ya need me to mess with him a little—”

  “No,” she said. “I think…I don’t think it would help if you got involved. You know what I mean?”

  Jayce dipped his head. “You lemme know if things change, all right?”

  Kasia smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “Both of you—for just being around a minute ago.”

  Kyle offered a sympathetic smile.

  A deep rumble sounded behind them. “There we go,” Jayce said. He chuckled as he turned in his seat to watch as A.J. roared into a nearby parking spot. “That girl makes me smile every time I see her.” He hopped out of the car and spun back to duck his head inside. “You two wanna follow us over, then?”

  Kasia nodded and found a smile for him. “Sure.”

  Jayce drummed twice on the roof, then closed the door and jogged over to meet A.J.

  She felt Blake’s infuriated gaze on her as they pulled out.

  ~*~

  Kyle rolled down his window. “So…Peru?”

  Kasia beamed. “I’ve decided to go work with the Cleavens—for the summer. I mean, I’ve got to talk to my parents about it and all, but it’s perfect. It’s exactly what I need.”

  “To teach? With the guy from church?” Kyle asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ll be awesome at it,” Kyle said. “Want some company down there?”

  Kasia cast him a sideways glance. “Nope.”

  Kyle patted the top of her seat. “Kidding. I’ve got a bunch of concerts booked for the summer. Just sorry you’ll miss ’em.”

  She relaxed in her seat, the smile back in her voice when she spoke. “Save some sample CDs and we’ll catch up when I get back.”

  “You’re on,” he said. “It’s a date. Oh! Did A.J. tell you about our small group?”

  8

  Kasia’s alarm shattered her semi-peace, and she snapped her head up. Why was she on the floor?

  A pain knifed her neck and shoulder as she turned and eyed the time. Ugh. Seven already? She pressed the knot with her first two fingers, bled the tension from her shoulders.

  Only an hour to meet A.J.

  She pushed herself off the rug, crawled over, and turned off the blaring clock. Floor naps were becoming too-familiar friends. No matter how she tried, Kasia couldn’t outrun insomnia.

  But Saturday night, she’d dozed fitfully. And her anxiety crescendoed.

  She kept dreaming her legs were anchored to the center of a murky lake. Shadows slithered under the surface, slipped p
ast her skin. She exhausted herself to keep her head above water. But she couldn’t escape.

  Even now, wide awake, dread dogged her. She needed an outlet, needed to do something strong. Kasia snatched her phone from the top of the dresser and paused with her thumb on the call button. Depending on who answered, her tactics would need adjustment.

  “Hello?” Mama’s voice.

  A gentle approach, then. “Mamusiu? It’s Kasia.”

  “Czy wszystko w porządku?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. I just have a question.” Did she only ever call when she was in trouble?

  “Dobrze. What is it?”

  “Well, you know I visited Busia this week, right?”

  “She’s talked of little else. It was wonderful of you to stop by.”

  Kasia rubbed the back of her desk chair with the heel of her hand. “She, um…suggested I do some mission work this summer.”

  “You don’t want to talk about this when you come home?”

  “My idea has a deadline.”

  “Oh?”

  All right, Lord. This is all You. “I met a missionary—the work sounded incredible. Similar to your English classes for other immigrants all those years. I know I can do it.”

  “It sounds perfect—‘working with immigrants,’ you said?”

  She picked up a piece of scrap paper and threw it away. “Um, no…I said ‘similar.’ It’s in Peru.”

  “Kasiu, you mean the entire summer? In South America? We don’t know anything about this—”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve travelled internationally. I know right where my passport is. And—this is why there’s a deadline—Mr. Cleaven will only be in town for a few more days. I thought maybe you and Tatuś could meet with him personally and iron out some details, where I would stay, all that. So you feel good about it when I go.” When. Not if.

  Silence. Then, “That’s…that’s huge.”

  “I won’t leave town with them. I’ll come home after exams, spend a couple weeks, prepare several English lessons with you, pack carefully…”

 

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