“Yeah, me too. It took a while for me to want to come back here again after all that mess. Dad almost got killed. Twice!”
“Wow.”
The story that Jenna had conveyed to her while in the hospital over a year and a half before, during her early hours of labor, had struck quite a chord. All of those people trying to resurrect an ancient religion, sacrificing people, and trying to get some Celtic goddess to possess them was almost too much to believe. But it had been in the newspapers and on the TV stations. It had even been on Fox News Channel!
It was the religious aspects of the story that were hardest to come to terms with. More so, the Christian aspects. After all, could a god really exist that cared about humankind? According to Jenna—even Jamie and Amy—the answer was yes.
“Life would be a lot easier if everything ahead of us wasn’t a mystery,” Elizabeth said.
Jenna appeared thoughtful for a moment, then said, “One of my favorite writers, Emily Reid, said something that has stayed with me. She said, ‘Never knowing what comes next is the mystery of life, but knowing that it's your mystery makes it all the better.’ I think she was telling us that we can live life looking forward to what it will reveal, or we can just shrink back from it and miss everything important.”
Now Elizabeth had something new to think about.
Nearly fifteen minutes later, they had their cups of ice cream in hand, both of them settling on Razzler Chip.
“This has always been my favorite! Some of the others are really good, but.…” Jenna sighed with contentment as she placed a spoonful in her mouth and closed her eyes.
Elizabeth giggled and tasted her own. “Mmm…. Such a good choice!”
The two walked up the sidewalk, but instead of crossing the street, they walked a bit farther, past the public parking area to the drive that led to the Pittston police department. A sign at the entrance said, “Village of Pittston Public Administration Complex.” About thirty feet past the sign was a stand of trees that formed a half circle and blocked people’s view of the buildings from the street. Half a dozen benches hugged the tree line with a walkway that ran in front of them, sadly all taken by others enjoying the evening.
“Oh well.” Elizabeth shrugged. “We can always walk back and sit in a police cruiser.”
Jenna laughed. “Oh yeah, that’d go over well.” She attempted her best news reporter voice: “Jenna Lawton and Elizabeth Franklin, daughters of Police Chief Brent Lawton, were taken into custody this evening after breaking into police cars.”
Elizabeth could hardly contain the laughter as she finished the “news report.”
“The two were sentenced to three years hard labor at the Fairlane Diner without pay.”
“Oh, as if working there with pay isn’t bad enough for you,” said Jenna, still recovering from the laughter.
“Hi, ladies!” The voice of a woman called out to them from the street. It was a police officer who’d pulled to the curb in her cruiser.
Uh-oh, Elizabeth thought. She cringed.
“Oh, hi, Officer Townsend!” Jenna called back.
Immediately, Jenna walked to the vehicle. The young officer was leaning—what little she could due to the built-in laptop between the seats—toward the passenger window.
“Enjoying the day, I see,” the officer said.
Elizabeth didn’t know why she felt resistant about approaching the vehicle, but she stayed put.
“Loving it! You should come and have ice cream with us.”
The female cop laughed. “Oh, yeah. That’d go over real well with your dad.”
Jenna laughed then looked back at Elizabeth.
“Come meet Officer Kim Townsend. She’s one of Dad’s newbs.”
Elizabeth stepped closer as the officer laughed and chided Jenna lightheartedly.
“Hey, I’ve told you to stop that! I’m no longer a rookie!” Shifting her attention away from Jenna, the officer said, “You must be Elizabeth. Both Jenna and Chief Lawton have mentioned you. Good to finally meet you.”
Feeling a bit out of place, she quietly responded, “Uh, thanks. Good to meet you.”
“Well, I won’t keep the two of you. It’s end of shift for me. Sort of. Got a bit of paperwork to complete before I get to enjoy some free time.”
“Doing anything fun this weekend?” Jenna wanted to know.
“Yeah, I think so. Gonna hang out with some good friends tomorrow evening.”
“Well, have fun! Stay out of trouble.”
“Never,” Officer Townsend said with a laugh. She pulled away from the curb then turned right toward the police station parking lot.
“I like her,” said Jenna, looking at Elizabeth.
“Seems nice, I guess.”
The girls noticed a family of four—parents and two children—as they got up from one of the nearby benches and began to walk away.
“Quick! Before someone else sees it!”
The girls laughed as they cut across the grass to get to the bench and plunked down.
With another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, Jenna turned to Elizabeth. “So, getting back to what I hope you’re still okay talking about.… You know the story about how my family was attacked by the Picti people three and a half years ago, but I don’t know the whole story of what happened to you. With your mom and dad, I mean.”
The smile faded from Elizabeth’s face. She took a bite of ice cream and lowered the cup and spoon to her lap. It was true. Only Jenna’s mom and dad knew the whole story. Well, most of it, anyway.
“So, this sharing-of-life-stories thing is part of sisterhood, huh?”
Jenna put on a soft smile. “Kinda. You can tell me and trust me with anything. I’d just like to know. I want to know my sister better.”
Elizabeth looked into Jenna’s eyes. They are so alive and kind. I know I can trust her. “All right. There isn’t any reason why you shouldn’t know everything, I guess. You already know the story of how your mom and dad found me at the store.…”
Chapter 9
J
enna turned to face Elizabeth, her back propped against the hard armrest of the park bench, ice cream cup and spoon in hand.
“You already know the story of how your mom and dad found me at the store,” Elizabeth began. “I was desperate. I was just hoping that one—just one—of the pregnancy tests would come back negative. But, after five positives in a week … I knew I was dead. My parents were going to kill me if they found out. When they found out.”
“Mom and Dad took you to your home. Isn’t that right?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how I would have handled things if they hadn’t been there. But first, they loaded my bike in the back of the SUV and took me to that park on Narrow Road. I guess they didn’t want me to make a scene in public.”
“Or maybe they just wanted you to be someplace peaceful to help you relax.”
“I guess that could be true. Anyway, we ended up sitting at one of the picnic tables. I remember it being nice, like today. They told me that they had a daughter about my age. Might have been you they were talking about.”
Jenna laughed. “Yep. Might have been.”
“So, they asked me why I was so scared. I didn’t really want to get into a lot of my family drama. Your mom said she understood—that she’d had some tough times in her family when she was a teen. After I moved in with you, she told me her story. I think her life was more messed up than mine, with both of her parents dying and stuff.”
Elizabeth had been playing absent-mindedly with her plastic spoon up to that point. She looked at it for a moment and pushed it into the remainder of her ice cream. Leaning to the side, she placed the container in the grass and turned to face Jenna again, curling her leg underneath her on the bench.
Jenna watched, curious, as Elizabeth paused for a moment.
“I didn’t know at that point that your mom and dad were going to take me to my house. I just remember telling them a bunch
of times that my parents were going to kill me. I think I cried a lot.”
Jenna nodded her on.
“Your dad started to ask me some questions. Things like, ‘Do you live in Pittston?’ ‘Do you have brothers and sisters?’ Stuff like that. I think your mom is the one who asked about what my parents’ reactions might be like. My parents….”
Elizabeth stopped to process for a moment. “It’s not like they’re angry drunks or anything. I mean, I didn’t think they were going to hit me or something like that. I just knew that they already didn’t really want me in their lives.”
Jenna knew part of the story already. She knew that Elizabeth’s parents were what her mom called socialites. They had a reputation among their friends and business acquaintances that was really important to them. They liked their rich friends and being around important people.
It wasn’t hard for Jenna to understand that they wouldn’t want a pregnant teenage daughter throwing a wrench into their lifestyle. What she hadn’t heard before was that they didn’t want Elizabeth.
“They didn’t want you? Did they say that?”
“Well, they never came out and said that, exactly. But I just knew. In my heart, you know? They never really showed me any affection. They never told me they were proud of me or went out of their way to make me feel pretty or important.”
And with that last sentence, Jenna saw the trembling start in her lower lip. Glancing to her eyes, they were already filled with tears. She wanted to reach out to her but stopped the urge. Elizabeth had made it through the story before with her mom and dad; she didn’t want to do anything to stop its course this time.
Elizabeth took one of her napkins and pressed it against her eyes. She sniffled and continued.
“It didn’t used to hurt, you know. It used to just make me angry on the inside. I think I started to just harden my heart … probably around the time I turned ten years old.”
When Elizabeth paused, Jenna asked, “Did something happen when you turned ten?”
Elizabeth’s lips pursed and the quiver increased. She nodded her head. After a moment and with a strained voice, she said, “I turned ten! It was supposed to be a special birthday. Right? I mean, I was turning double-digits. I just knew it was supposed to be important.
“I remember a girl at school, Becca, who had turned ten a couple months before. She said that her parents threw her a big birthday party. She’d been allowed to invite anyone she wanted to come. I wasn’t allowed to go, but that was okay, because I knew I was going to have a party, and I could invite her to mine. I kept hinting to my parents, things like, ‘Ten sure is a big birthday, isn’t it? Kids at school are having parties.’”
Jenna knew that something painful was about to be said. She braced herself. Tried to, anyway.
“On my tenth birthday, I woke up so excited. I got dressed on my own, picking out my own clothes. Something better than jeans. A pink and white skirt, I think it was. I ran down the stairs into the kitchen where Mom always was on school mornings. I yelled, “I’m ten! Mommy, I’m ten!”
“I remember, for just a brief moment, that my mom smiled and said ‘Happy birthday, Elizabeth. Yes, you’re ten. You’re growing to be a big girl. Now eat your breakfast, and off to school with you.’
“I nearly gulped down my cereal and ran out to my bus stop. I got on the bus, sat next to a girl that I didn’t really know well, and told her, ‘I’m ten today! I’m going to have a party!’
“It was all I could think about all day. When I saw Becca, I told her, ‘I’m having a birthday party! Wanna come?’ She said yes, and I got even more excited.
“When I got off the bus that afternoon, I ran home and rushed through the front door, yelling, ‘Mommy! Becca can come!’
“My mom was walking down the stairs. I remember it like it was yesterday. When she got to the bottom she said, ‘Becca? Who’s that, dear?’ I told her that she was a friend from school and that she was going to come to my party. And.…”
Elizabeth tried to keep from weeping, but she lost to the struggle. Two heart-wrenching sobs emanated from her chest, and Jenna’s heart broke instantly.
Barely able to get the words out, Elizabeth went on. “Mom looked at me and said, ‘There’s no party, dear. Where in the world did you get that idea?’
“Right then, I knew something really bad was happening to me. I said to her, ‘But I’m ten, Mommy! I’m ten!’ And that’s when the bomb hit. She said, ‘You’re too mature for parties, Elizabeth. You’re becoming a big girl. Now go upstairs and do your homework. When your father comes home, we’ll go out and have a nice meal at a restaurant of your choosing. No fast food places, though. Okay?’
“I just stood there. I couldn’t move. My mom just walked right past me, walked into the living room, and sat down on the couch. She picked up a magazine, gave me a quick glance, and said, ‘Elizabeth, run along. Get your homework done.’”
Jenna used a napkin to wipe her own eyes. There was little she could think to say in response. “I’m so sorry.”
Elizabeth sighed out the word, “Yeah,” and hung her head for a moment. When she looked back up, she said, “We ended up going to one of their favorite restaurants. They gave me a card with a fifty-dollar bill in it. Happy birthday to me.”
She let out another sigh. “That’s when I knew that I wasn’t as special as other kids. I think I started hating my parents right then. And now.… Now that I had to tell them that I was pregnant, I think I was less scared of what they’d think than what they’d do. I felt like they would kick me out.” She hung her head again. “I was right. Well … after they told me, immediately, that I was to have an abortion and I told them no.”
“Did my parents go into your house with you to talk with your mom and dad?”
“No. They told me that they were willing to go in with me—I think your mom actually wanted to—but I didn’t want to embarrass them with what I believed was coming. So, they waited outside. I walked back out to tell them that my parents had just read me the riot act and that they’d told me they couldn’t—excuse me, wouldn’t—be seen in public with such a ‘disgrace.’” Elizabeth formed double-quote signs with her fingers.
“After my mom said that word, I didn’t wait for another sentence from her. I just turned around and stormed toward the front door. I opened it, spun to face them, shouted, ‘I hate you!’ and slammed the door behind me. Your mom got out of the SUV immediately. I ran toward her and she opened up her arms for me. I stopped short, not wanting to be touched. Or wanting to. I don’t know; I was so confused. She walked up to me and wrapped her arms around me anyway. She whispered something like, ‘I’m guessing it didn’t go well. Are your parents…?’
“She didn’t finish her question. I don’t think she knew how to ask, so I just said, ‘They want me gone.’ And your mom said, ‘Then you’re coming home with us. You don’t have to bring anything; we’ll take care of everything.’
“But I told her that there were some things that I definitely needed. So, I went back in the house, saw that both of my parents were looking out the front window toward your parents, and told them that I was leaving to stay with some friends who actually cared. When they asked who they were, I said, ‘Better people!’
“I got my laptop, a couple changes of clothes, and some personal items. And that’s how I ended up walking through your front door that evening and meeting you for the first time.”
Chapter 10
D
rew felt a stream of sweat trickling down his back and soaking into his T-shirt as he pushed the lawn mower back into the garage. He glanced at his watch.
Not a record, but still … not too bad.
Stepping out onto the gravel driveway, he looked around and breathed in the sweet fragrance of freshly mowed grass.
Sunlight still danced along the tops of the trees that formed a natural privacy barrier against any cars that might pass by. The driveway had been designed to
curve into the thick stand of trees then back toward the street, providing the additional concealment that made his mom somehow feel safe.
The sound of birds resonating in the air would soon give way to cricket song. Maybe he’d stick around, sit on the porch, and just listen for a while.
He enjoyed the place. His mom had only lived in the home for about eight years, which meant that there hadn’t been many important memories made on the property; those that had been made there were therefore both important and special.
He sighed. Thought you were nuts moving out here by yourself, Mom, but I get it now.
Periodically, he pondered the idea of moving to the property himself. But that would add another half hour to an already-too-long commute.
Drew walked to the house, up the three steps, across the porch, and through the front door. The inside was hot, but it made no sense to run the air conditioning while unoccupied. The only thing running in the house was the refrigerator, where he kept a few sports drinks and adult beverages for his bi-weekly visits.
He walked down the hall toward the kitchen, passing numerous framed photos, carefully hung in a lavish display on both walls.
Occasionally, he’d stop to focus on his mom’s masterpieces. At least, that’s what some in the industry had called them.
A few of the frames held magazine covers and articles about her work as a photographer. While she’d never made it to the “big time”—National Geographic or Time—she’d still been the recipient of several photojournalist and nature photography awards.
The craft of photography had been her first love.
A curio cabinet to the right held some of her older cameras from days gone by. She had kept them as a reminder of where she’d come from and what she’d gone through—the things she’d had to endure to make it as far as she did. Several rolls of undeveloped film sat in little black and gray containers on one of the shelves, waiting for someone to care enough to remove them and have them processed.
He stopped short of the kitchen. For a moment, he just stood, giving the idea true consideration for the first time.
That Dark Place Page 6